As you were sitting on a bench in the park one sunny day, admiring nature, a little boy with split-dyed hair came up to you. He looked pathetic; weary eyes and a frown on his face. But you felt pity for him, so you asked him for his name.

"..Toya.. Aoyagi Toya.." The small boy named Toya muttered, his hands shaky. You wondered what was wrong, but you heard large footsteps come closer, and soon saw a tall figure standing next to you with gray hair, as if in his fifties.

"Well, I'm sorry, young fellow. This is my son, and he's been really stubborn this past week." The man glared at Toya, and forcefully took his hand. Something's wrong..