A small rural area walked about half a day north of Ertbourg. An unfamiliar brunette was visiting the lonely cemetery outside.

The man stops in front of a slightly blurred headstone as he walks in a standing tomb. He then puts together and cleans the dead leaves around that headstone. The next time he provides the hua before the grave and waters the tombstone, he closes his eyes and claps.

After doing so for a while, he opens his mouth to speak as he faces up against the headstone.

"I'm back now. It's been almost four years, and I'm sorry. And forgive me for having to leave the land again."

He's there, once he closes his mouth, closes his eyes again. The sight that overflows behind its lid cannot be seen by anyone but him.

However, in the meantime, his sad, unintentionally laughing, indescribable expression told the story of the sight of the day of the living being reflected there.

How close would I have closed my eyes? He squeezes his face after shaking his head left and right three times and a vague bitter laugh.

"Well, it's time. If this journey is safe again, I will definitely come here."

When he squeals so, after the grave, he starts walking slowly.

And the remnants of winter still lingered, groaned against the sky during the spring tree leak days.

"I wonder if I used to feel this way when my mother turned to Clarice"

When he spews the word out into the sky, he looks back only once.

And when he lowered his head softly, he looked forward again and walked out toward the sprawling green spring meadow.

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