—Cold. This place is vigorously cold.

          He felt an immense amount of tension in his throat. Feeling the rough texture of the brick wall against his back, he realized that he had staggered toward the wall. He coughed up blood, tugging against his throat. He wanted to run and scream, but he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. He could only feel his body numbed with cold.
          —Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, move, dammit.
          Cold sweat dripped from his forehead. His consciousness—on the periphery of his life. His hazy eyesight acted like a camera panning—focusing in and out. His vision was murky, but he could see the pavement below stained in a dark crimson.
          —Huh...no way this is right. Is this my blood?
          He coughed out the remaining blood pelting against his throat. Feeling his body tremble with shock, his shakily stunned hand went toward the area of his body with the most heat distinguished. When his fingertips halted at a gaping cut on his chest, he knew what had happened.
          It was axiomatic why he was cold. His body was in total shock to realize there had been a clean gash that ran through his chest down to his abdomen. Deep enough to classify him as two separate people. No surprise he was cold. It wasn't the area that was cold. It was a sign of his waning life.
          To put it in simpler terms, he had been knocking on death's door, and death was about to let him in. His consciousness slowly faded from him. The ambient noise around became buzzed and bleak.
          Right before his eyes made their final blink, he saw the blade of a black sword descend. Blood traveled right off the sword—adding more red to the pool below.
          A person was standing there, but he didn't bother to look up. Because—he knew who his killer was.
          —He wished for clarity on why they, the only person worth protecting, would do this.
          "—orry."
          He wanted to cry, but no tears would roll. He precariously reaches for the person's blood-stained legs. It, unfortunately, collapsed due to how weak he was.
          He desperately held on to his remaining sliver of consciousness. He wanted to say a variety of things.
          "Don't worry..."
          —I'll make sure you don't lose yourself.
          Unbeknownst to Takumi Masuda, his life—had just ended.