Ah, it was raining again.

The crystalline drops splat on the concrete, fluttering down from the sky and landing on Neuvillette's shoulder.

It was the day of a large murder trial, one involving the only friend he had held since the...incident, as one would call it.

He enters the Opera Epiclese, wishing his own liquid sadness could be confined to just him for once. If only he could cry like a normal person...Well, it's useless dwelling on if only, is it not?