It's not a real name," she says. "Not one that he's carried with him always. It's one he wears like his hat. So he can take it off if he wants.

Love is fickle and fleeting," Tsukiko continues. "It is rarely a solid foundation for decisions to be made upon, in any game.

It's a wonderful sort of feeling when people want to spend more time in a world you created.

I didn't know your identity, but I had an impression of who my opponent was, being surrounded by things you made.

The fact that people are already reading and loving something I wrote is still hard to believe.

That man has no shadow.

The funeral is a quiet one, despite the number of mourners present. There are no sobs or flailing handkerchiefs. There is a smattering of color amongst the sea of traditional black. Even the light rain cannot push it down into the realms of despair. It rests instead in a space of thoughtful melancholy.