I felt vulnerable and exposed in my black tank top dress. A translucent, sparkling shawl was laid carefully across my shoulders, held in place by the crook of my elbows.

I might have looked calm, but I certainly didn’t feel like it. My hands were clammy and wet from anxiety. I was sure I looked as pale as a sheet. I also thought I was shaking.

Luckily, Kazuma informed me I looked just fine. I fidgeted a bit more, and my brother laid a hand on my shoulder. The trembling died down a bit, but I was still racing abnormal scenarios through my head a mile a minute.

We were waiting outside the cemetery, and I was sure there was a chill in the breeze even though the weather was fairly pleasant.

I don’t want to do this! I screamed to myself.

You can run away… a small, devilish voice tempted. I shook my head, and Kazuma looked at me curiously.

I can’t. It’s my duty.

To do what? Sit around and be bashed about by an old man?

I looked out to the road, and my blood froze.

Too late. He’s here.