It was raining in Kantle again. Dusk had fallen and Okita was as drunk as his once remaining money would allow him to be. He stumbled into an alleyway soaked, supporting himself on the splintering side of a house. He had made his way partly down the alleyway when his soaked clothing, shivering flesh, and drunken body would allow him to go no further. He collapsed into the mud, leaning his back against the wall of a large warehouse. Blinking water from his eyes, he tried to look up into the darkening sky, seeing the dark amber glow peeking around clusters of dark rolling clouds. In the distance he could see the flashes of lighting, and hear the distant roar of thunder. Not nearly drunk enough, his thoughts began to turn toward that dark place which always lingered. Flashes of memory sprung into mind, memories of his wife's death, of there unborn child spilling out. Okita cried out, his tears mixing with the pouring rain. Without money for drink, and unable to bear the pain, he slammed his head into a nearby barrel. Slumping into the mud unconscious, the water pooled mixing with a trickle of his blood and began to divert around him. The clouds rolled on, as the lighting and thunder closed in.