• The night was cold, harsh winter air seering her skin, so cold it felt as if she was burning. Yet, she carried on through the freezing snow. The silence of the place itself, slowly eating away at her sanity. Finally, she arrived 'there', her destination. She collapsed down to her knees, hands outstreatching to touck the large 'God Tree'. In many ways, this place, tucked far behind a forest and before a mountain, was a graveyard, though no bodies were buried here, it signified the same thing, in her mind.

    She flopped down on the ice cold ground, staring up at the falling snow. She opened her mouth to sing, a song of her native, language, Wutain. The same song, she sang every year on this day. Her voice filled with emotion, which to most that knew her now, would truly be a sight to behold, for she no longer showed very much emotion, over than on this day, the anniversary. The sound of a cello playing in the distance, could be heared. But she simply ignored it.
    'You're dead...please...stop this...Hatouri-san...' She thought to herself, eyes closing in attempt to ward off the memory. The music stoped, to her amazement.

    So, she returned her attention to the sky, resuming her song. Her song ended after a short while, and she gasped softly, as a single black feather fluttered past her, carried by the wind.
    "No..." Her voice was harsh, tears forming in her eyes; "Go... Leave me..."
    There was no reply, but she could feel his eyes on her, watching her in silence.
    'I can't handle you right now...Not now...'
    "Please go!" She cried out, sobs racking her petite form.
    After a long moment of hesitantion, Rin could hear footsteps, slowly leaving her sanctuary. Her sobs slowed after a short while, and she began to sing again, the same song as before.

    Hours passed as she laid there in darkness. Eyes closed, as she listened to the pure silence of the place.
    When dawn broke and the sun slowly began to rise, was when she stood, body numb from laying in the snow.
    "Im sorry..." She whispered, the palm of her left hand resting over a deep hole in the tree, a hole that could have only been made by a sword. Tears, slipped from strawberry pink eyes as she begins to walk away.