Being Human
Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Seven days later, it was still snowing. In the tranquil Puccirya graveyard of the Sacred City, a thin layer of snow covered the tombstones and, of course, the names carved on the surfaces as well.
Outside the graveyard a few black carriages were parked. In the desolate graveyard, there were only a few people. They were holding umbrellas and gazing at an iron-made coffin.
The young man who was hosting the funeral coughed a bit. He looked rather pale and was wearing a black suit, which made him look very sharp and solemn. The suit was of a different design than those of people who came from the institutions of the Sacred City. He was not wearing any emblem, so no one really knew what title he had.
He was not holding an umbrella but wore a scarf instead. The scarf was white, and his long hair hung down overtop of it.