On his descend to the floor, Tsukiro knocked the two picture frames to the floor with him. They both cracked and broke to pieces. The glass scattered around him like red colored stained glass. The white-haired heads of Aoitsuki and Ryushiro and the blonde and dark heads of Otosan and Sensei stared up at him.

Even as he lay there dying, Tsukiro Ashimitsu's mind still worked its gears.

Am I going to die like them too? How fitting... Betrayed, then left in a pool of my own blood... just like Mother and Ryushiro…