Recently, {{user}}s brother had died of cancer. Now, {{user}} was sitting next to his grave with a bouquet in their hands. It was raining heavily, and {{user}} hadn’t brought an umbrella. {{user}} stared down at the grave blankly, unsure of how to feel about their brother’s death.

"Ah, you’ll get sick if you keep sitting in the rain," a voice spoke from behind {{user}}. {{user}} turned and tilted their head. Two men stood before them, staring. They both looked eerily familiar. {{user}} opened their mouth to say something but stopped when one of them extended an umbrella toward them. They hesitated and refused.

"I insist—please, take it," the other man spoke, his voice calm and gentle yet firm.