I slowly turn my head to my left.

A lady. She dons a black turtleneck sweater in the slight chill of spring and for her lower body there is a pure white pleated skirt just above her knee level. Her hair, as deep black as her turtleneck, is braided and flows downwards along her back, reaching almost her waist. Her slender hands grip her umbrella handle in a subtle, ladylike manner; the umbrella a great golden yellow, slightly transparent, the sun behind it and casting its rays onto it, creating a vibrant yellow scene. Her skin is fair and her complexion perfect.

She looks down at the same thing I looked down at. A gentle smile is apparent on her young face.

A slight feeling of annoyance piques inside me and I say out my reason.

"You say that with a smile."

Her smile widens as she giggles softly. She turns her head towards me. Her eyes are dark blue and almost bore into me.

"I said that it was tragic. I did not say I felt so." her response to my statement, her smile unchanging.

I am slightly taken aback. Never had I imagined that anyone would say such a thing in front of the very place it happened.

"Someone died here."

"I am well aware of that." she says. "Then again, everyone dies. If one mourns each and every death, one would fall in despair."

Again I am taken aback. Nonetheless, she has her point. I add on in my mind that the victim is unrelated to either of us which enforces her argument. Still, it doesn't feel right.

I stare back at the tainted floor. My eyes droop in a slight apologetic manner. Something along the lines of 'this person is tactless, I am sorry on her behalf' runs through my mind. A redundant thought.

"I am sorry." her voice returns. "She must have been dear to you. It was inappropriate for me to say such a thing."

I look back at her.

"No such thing. You had your point. And she was a stranger to me so it does not matter to me much." I reply.

She looks a little surprised.

"Oh? She is unrelated to you? I'm sorry, I thought you were judging from the long time you stood here looking at the site."

"Long time?"

"Yes, about half an hour, unmoving." she says. "Surely, if you were entirely unrelated to the victim you wouldn't have stood there for so long."

Half an hour? Indeed, my sense of time is in disarray. My eyes show my surprise. "Half an hour..." I reiterate without realizing.

She seems to take a mental note of my surprise. Her head turns back to look down at the markings. Mine as well.

"For you to not realize the passing of time, yet for you not to be related to her..." she utters.

"I saw her die..."

I semi-consciously answer her ponderings.

Her eyes widen. She looks back up from the ground. She displays an entire air of surprise and looks straight at me.

"She fell from the top floor of the building and landed head first onto the concrete. Blood splattered. Her eyes turned up at me and showed a truly dead face. Everything was so still... so putrid..." I say mechanically without looking away. As I remember the horrid scene, I feel my energy draining away. It was not my intention to do so, but everything just came back in an instant and I started acting as if in a trance. A horrible feeling. I feel my face contort to show a look of disgust.

She still looks at me but her surprise seems to have subsided. In fact, she looks calm.

"Of course. It must have had a profound effect on you, to see someone die in front of your eyes. And for you to mechanically retell the tale in such detail to a stranger." she says. Then, her eyes widen as she realizes something."But the body was found by a homeless passerby. Surely you are not..."

"I did not inform the police. My mind was... hectic... My judgement, sanity, everything broke..." I reply, my mind slowly constructing the sentence.

And I feel a hand on my shoulder. A reassuring hand. The lady had taken a few steps towards me and put her hand there.

"I believe that is quite enough. All this remembrance must be taxing on you. This, too, isn't a place for us to discuss such matters." As she speaks, she takes out a card, a business card, and holds it in front of me, motioning me to take it. I obey, taking the card from her. She steps back.

"Seeing that all this turmoil in you requires in an outlet, I'd like to inform you that my services are always available. Please consider." she says with a business-like smile. She turns on her heels and starts to walk away.

I look at the card in my hand. Sento Yuka. Private Investigator. Followed by an address. I look up again with my mouth slightly open to ask something.

Nobody stands in front of me. Only the empty pathway runs forward unendingly without a sliver of a yellow umbrella.