The young man tightened his maroon coat. The mid-winter night breeze pierced his skin. I don't know what I'm doing in the middle of the air like this. Just sitting on a bench with a cup of coffee in my hand.
There was a puff of smoke from the still-hot coffee. He just stared straight ahead and occasionally sighed. Gazing at the sparkling Sumidagawa in front of him. A few seconds later he lowered his head, looked down at his brown boots covered in snow, and stomped his feet two or three times again due to nervousness to remove the stuck snow.
Ravn. That's how he was called. He had been exploring the city of Tokyo for one week looking for his younger sister who two years ago went here to continue her education. Isn't it strange that an older brother doesn't know about his sister's whereabouts and condition abroad?
