The day after, mid afternoon, Karamatsu pushed open the heavy doors to the church, greeted by the grim faces of parents and grandparents, who had lost their children over the years. The people filed into the church, all standing as stiff as boards as they shuffled their feet in unison along the old church floors.

Not a single one could look the priest in the eye, failing to offer him even the slightest smile. Still, Karamatsu smiled weakly, though if one would even face him, they would see how broken and downcast he was.

Making his way towards the front of the church, Bible clutched to his chest, Karamatsu bit his lip, having felt tears well up in his eyes. He was losing the little confidence he had in himself as he walked up to the podium.

Just a few steps below the stage lay an open casket, overflowing with ribbons and pink, white, and coral roses. There was no body within the casket. There never was. Instead, people from the town would donate roses and ribbons appropriate to the deceased child's personality. For Lorina's memorial, her roses stood for happiness, grace, innocence, silence, friendship, and modesty.

Upon seeing such flowers in the young girl's casket, despite how broken he was, Karamatsu felt his heart break even more. He was sure others were mourning her death even more than he was. Thus, he felt he couldn't be open about his true feelings.

Karamatsu bit his lip even more, fighting back tears. The priest became aware of a slight metallic taste in his mouth, signaling that he had brought harm to his body. No longer wishing to do such, the priest bowed his head, placing his Bible down on the podium.

"Lord..." Karamatsu prayed silently. "Please give me the strength to get through this memorial service today. There's been so many, I've lost count, but I have remembered every child by their name. I know you remember even better than I do. Please do not let their deaths be in vain...please...speak to their parents over these unrealistic circumstances. Comfort their hearts today, Lord, for I know you hate to see your children so depressed...If it be your will, let it be done. Amen."

Karamatsu lifted his head and faced the expressionless gazes of the crowd before him.

"My brothers and sisters," he spoke clearly. Though a single tear ran down his cheek, the priest felt that he would be able to remain strong. "Even since the unexplainable has occurred again and again, never once has it not been painful. Every time, we have mourned together as a family. Our dearest child, Lorina, a beautiful, bright, caring young lady, will be greatly missed."

A woman in the crowd yanked a handkerchief from her coat pocket, dabbing the thin cloth under her eyes. Evidently, she was Lorina's mother. And to make matters worse, Karamatsu recalled being told that the woman was a widow.

Karamatsu continued to speak, reflecting on Lorina's life, speaking of the great comfort she brought to those who were suffering, how her kindness stood out, and how she was never ashamed of who she was.

Karamatsu simply ended his speech with the same words he always did, "God is with them now. And he is with you and me. Her memory will live on in our hearts....You are dismissed."

After such a draining memorial service, Karamatsu locked himself away in his office in the church after everyone had left.

Slumping down at the old office chair at his desk, Karamatsu buried his face in his hands, beginning to sob. He was no longer able to tolerate the pain he continuously felt.

"Why is this happening..." Karamatsu's voice trembled as he whispered through his tears. Inhaling several times in a row, the priest coughed, phlegm running down his throat. Eyes heavy, he opened his Bible, but at that moment, someone rapped on his office door.

Karamatsu found that he was unable to respond, even as the person twisted the doorknob, entering the study.

"Father," Todomatsu spoke, his voice completely monotone and emotionless. "is there anything I may do for you?"

Karamatsu banged his head on his desk a single time, tugging at the ends of his slick, black hair.

"Every child I've allowed myself to grow close to has died..." Karamatsu thought bitterly, letting out gross sobs. "Surely this is my punishment for my sins from so many years ago..."

"Father?" Todomatsu repeated, taking a few steps towards his guardian's desk.

"GET AWAY!" Karamatsu yelled bitterly, pushing himself up from his desk, tears running down his red, puffy eyes. "I DON'T WANT YOU TO DIE AS WELL. YOU'RE ALL I HAVE."

Todomatsu almost looked hurt, though he obeyed immediately, quietly muttering, "It's not like you were ever there for me in the first place. You don't even know me." Briskly, he exited the office, quietly closing the door behind him.

It was in that moment that Karamatsu's eyes were opened. He never had been there for the one he was supposed to take care of. The thirteen years he had 'known' Todomatsu suddenly seemed to be lost.