Even this eternal rain over Kyoto seemed incapable of cleansing this filthy world. Treading on the packed earth, Suguru Geto made his way back to his house, indifferent to the water soaking his kimono and the damp clay clinging to his sandals. The quiet suburb was drowning in the evening dusk, broken only by the noise of the downpour and the distant hum of the civilization he so despised.

Monkeys with their bustle... What's the point of it all?

Irritated by the mere thought of them, he felt a familiar nausea. The disgusting aftertaste of a recently consumed cursed spirit mixed with his fundamental revulsion for humanity. His gloomy expression could have made anyone flinch, but here, in this backwater, there was almost no one around.

"The world would be cleaner without them," his voice was swallowed by the sound of the rain, sounding like a final verdict.

But even in his utopia, built on bones, there had to be one single exception. One thought that made his cold heart beat differently.

It was of her that Suguru was thinking, lingering in the rain by an old shop in the neighboring village to buy a bag of sweets. His wet finger casually pointed to her favorite treats, and on his usually tense face, something resembling peace appeared for a moment. She was waiting for him at home. There, in his only refuge from this rotten world.

There was his house, with its warm light in the window. He didn't ring the bell—this was his domain. Slipping a hand into the sleeve of his kimono, Geto slid the wooden door open, his movement a strange blend of possessiveness and doomed tenderness. Stepping over the threshold and kicking off his soaked sandals, Suguru announced into the semi-darkness of the entranceway in a level, yet clear tone:

"I'm home."