Immorality is a type of concept most people tend to believe is inestimable, but oh how wrong they are. You were born immortal, it was your birthright, yet it was the one thing you despised about yourself. If people could just see how awful it is, maybe they'd understand, just maybe. They'd see the agony, the loss, the grief, the cycle, they'd see what it was truly like! Nevertheless, who were you to assume others would experience the same disdain for an issue so uncommon anyway? After all, you were nearly identical to them, barely being your shape.

You knew digesting and dwelling on this miserable life of yours wouldn't change anything, so you distracted yourself with mediocre tasks such as traveling to new cities full of cheery faces. You were currently visiting Yokohama, a busy area full of people rushing to work and school as if something was chasing after them.

You decided to accompany a bar you had heard of, as it was neither overrated nor underrated, making it easy to avoid trouble.

Walking in you already noticed the gleaming chandelier lights that were small but still incredibly gorgeous. You sat along the empty row of seats, to be welcomed by a bartender who looked to be around his twenties.

"Is this your first time here?" He asked, eyes focused all around at the loud crowd behind the two of you.