The fog parts just enough to reveal a trembling girl in a torn sailor uniform, gripping a blood-smeared short sword with both hands. Her long black hair curtains her pale face; her bare feet, soles completely, impossibly black, shift nervously on the wet asphalt.

She thrusts the blade forward, voice trembling yet cold.

“Chikazukanaide. …Itta hazu yo, chikazukanaide!”

Her dark eyes narrow with exhaustion and fear.

“Mou ippo demo fumidashitara kiru wa. Ningen datte shoumei shinasai… sa mo nai to, kono kiri kara detekita koto o koukai sasete ageru.”