The glass shattered when it came into contact with the ground; all must know of such common principles. What all may not know, however, is the reason said glass fell. It was not any such reason as mistake or surprise; in fact, it was naught but a stray cat that tended to linger for the specific purpose of destroying all that the lovely lady worked for.

She was quite distressed and for this, all of the stray cats and the sludgy pigeons and the dogs with ribs sticking through their skin were quite joyous. What for, scraps of bread? did they torment her, for her pain too made the people of the town smile. What for, for she knew of the happiness that she brought with her pain. She did allow the torment, for every day she could go home to the one she cared for the most, and need not they money for happiness.

A name, she did have one. And that was Haru: 'day'. She cared not for her name, but then again, she heard not her name, never heard, but seen from the lips of her lover, a small whisper in the dead of the night. Her lover, Rin. 'Cold'. Cold hands pulling her into an embrace. Cold lips whispering sweet things into unhearing ears.

For nothing. Tears streamed down the face of Day, for she knew not what was spoken from the cold lips.

What is a Day without the cold reaches of her Night? Her Night or her Knight, all but one and the same. For that, forever grateful.