Shinara, a mute girl of ten, lived with her grandmother in the town of Nekrosia. In the silence of Harumiya Cemetery, at six in the evening, she stood before the grave of her mother, Harumi, whom she had never seen. All she knew about her was that she had died long ago in a car accident.
She stretched out her small hands and placed a bright yellow flower upon the grave, as if whispering in a child's silent voice, "I never forgot you."
After placing the flower, she quietly turned toward the cemetery gate. She stepped into the cold street and walked toward her grandmother's house, fifteen minutes away.
Her steps were quick; she had stayed out too long. Suddenly, a faint sound caught her attention the cry of a cat in pain.
She turned toward the other side of the road and saw a man crushing a small cat beneath his foot until it stopped moving. Shinara froze where she stood, her eyes widening in horror.
The man turned his gaze toward her. He didn't move. He simply stared, his strange eyes piercing into her.
She swallowed hard, turned forward, and forced herself to keep walking, trying to hide her fear until she reached home.
She opened the door quietly. The house was still.
Before she could take another step, her grandmother's voice called out, Shinara, you're back?
She stopped in place. Her grandmother approached slowly and asked with concern, "Why is your face so pale? Did something happen?
Shinara shook her head and lowered her gaze. Her grandmother gently ran a hand through her hair.
"It's all right, my dear. Tomorrow we'll go together to place the flower. Don't go alone again, all right?"
Shinara nodded softly, then went to her room.
She sat on her bed in silence. From her coat pocket, she took out a small flower and placed it beside an old doll. That doll meant a lot to her; her grandmother had told her her mother made it when she was a child.
At that moment, a knock echoed through the house. Her grandmother opened the door and there stood Shinara's father.
Before he could speak, she said coldly, "Leave.
He pleaded, "Why? I have the right to see my daughter.
Her voice sharpened, "Yes, if you had ever been a good father.
He said in a broken tone, "Please, believe me. I've changed. I'll go… just let me prove it.
He turned away and left quickly. Her grandmother closed the door slowly and whispered to herself, "That bastard… he'll never change."