That event was the second time something had died in his arms. This time, there was blood, and his favorite pea coat was forever stained.

He must be cursed.

Koromaru would have stayed if he lived, that was for certain, but fate had other plans. The others were devastated, of course- some more, others less.

Now two were gone.

He wonders if he'll be next.

He finds himself sitting at the Shrine benches, alone. They cremated the Shiba, and spread his ashes at the Naganaki shrine. It only seemed fitting. Now he could guard the place he loved so much in spirit forever. Iori, or whatever the hell his name was, mentioned that they should build a statue of Koromaru in his honor. Like the Hachiko statue in Shibuya.

Except dogs don't need shit like that though. The thought's nice, but unnecessary.


It's been a week, and Shinjiro's entire thought process can be amounted to the following:

"Is this really the world you gave up your life to save? Is this really what you're going to protect for all eternity?"

Shinjiro swears at himself. By no means, is he going to let his dread get the better of him-

She taught him better than that.

That Friday, he burned the blood-stained coat.

It was time to move on.