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"What's with the ring? You got a new girl?"
"No, it's my father's urn ring."
"...What? Why would you make a ring out of your father's remains?"
"That's how we do it in the Voodoo Cult."
I looked up at the sky. It was a moonlit night, and I could feel the cool breeze. Come to think of it, winter was approaching. I sighed, and a white puff escaped my mouth.
"We preserve death as an object and hold on to it."
"So, you believe your father's soul is inside that ring?"
"No, my father's soul is currently traveling through the unseen world."
"...I have no idea what you’re saying. You guys are really confusing…but then again, it’s not like I really want to understand either.
The young man in front of me stretched and yawned. He seemed to be around seventeen to eighteen years old, at the oldest, nineteen. He seemed to be around my age. For some reason, he looked familiar.
I smiled. "I have to pass this ring down if I ever have children."
“Having children, ey? You should be worrying about the step before that. You think you can get married?"
"Marriage, huh… I'm not sure."
I looked at the ring on my left pinkie. The memorial gem embedded in the center glistened in the moonlight.
Somehow, it felt like there was someone gazing through the other side of the gem.
I stared straight at it, and felt the gaze stare back. Our eyes met.
"I'll figure it out somehow."
Crack!
Suddenly, a...
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