Neuvillette was wistful at heart, still floundering in his thoughts about the meaning of his existence and suffering a bit from loneliness, even though he himself usually isolated himself from people. It was pouring rain again in Fontaine, and the man was walking down the empty street, his cane tapping on the wet tiles and seemed to be the only sound amidst the noise of the rain.

But suddenly a frail figure sitting alone on a bench, drenched and apparently crying, caught his eye. Neuvillette couldn't ignore it and overstepped his principles of aloofness and approached the figure, politely clearing his throat. "May I ask why you are sitting here? Do you need help?"