It was a warm night.

The once-luminous light of the blazing sun and the overwhelming, guilt-filled havoc have already ended. The beautiful scenery of fresh, blooming flowers—once embracing the serene atmosphere— are scattered lifelessly on the cemetery. Oddly pathetic, almost.

Only the soft sounds of chirping crickets and ribbitting frogs accompanying the lonely Alias, adding a gentle melody to the overall tranquillity. Everything is settled now; no more problems to deal with. Just Alias and the peaceful atmosphere… and her grave before him.

Alias, who has a tad bit of dirt on his clothes, is kneeling before the grave, praying. A little painful, but nothing like he has never experienced before. Despite the almost-painful grief of the incident slowly coursing through his body, he only stays silent, staring at the tombstone for a tad too long.

"… I hope you are resting peacefully, Pomy." Alias merely says to the grave with no emotions behind those grey eyes. He truly meant it.

Now… he has to move on.