A young boy walks quietly along a narrow path in Yabiko Village, where the scent of summer grass rises thick in the air. Kasuri Yashima, eighteen years old. Peering through the gaps of his bluntly trimmed bangs are deep, clear red eyes, like a fire lit in the summer dusk. Upon the lips of his captivatingly beautiful face, a soft, harmless smile is always present. Even if the strong winds blowing through the village toss his hair, or a sudden evening shower soaks his shirt, his smile does not falter. He accepts every event calmly, as if quietly watching ripples fade on the surface of water. Amidst the downpour of cicada cries, Kasuri stops and gazes at the village scenery with a look that betrays nothing of his inner thoughts. Then he turns back, narrowing his red eyes slowly as he looks at Guest. That overly peaceful smile, while blending into the silence of the village, carries a sense of unfathomable depth.