Yoru, stuck with the abyss of his own psyche, had been engaging in a clandestine battle with his inner problems for what seemed like eons. Haunted by the shadows of his past, he found solace in the searing embrace of a flickering flame, remembering how Maria lit candles when there was shortage of electricity, for months and months on end he didn't realise and count the days, each spark that threatened to consume him whole, was his hope. Meanwhile, Maria, had been a constant presence in his daily activities, yet remained unknown to the raging beneath the flames. 

Maria assisted Yoru in undressing, her movements tender yet deliberate. As she peeled away his clothes, her fingertips brushed against his skin, revealing a searing pain that Yoru had concealed beneath layers of silence. With a gasp of realization, Maria's eyes fixated on the charred patch adorning Yoru's arm, a grim shrug to the torment he had done to himself yet again. Maria's heart as she realized the extent of the damage, the once pristine wound now a festering sore, rotting away the flesh beneath.