Greyscale

It should be raining. It should rain every day. But today the sun shone brightly down upon the cold grey stone. The black-clad man rested a calloused hand on the grave as tears fell from his cheeks. Bloodshot black eyes gazed upon the name with a heavy sorrow, his right eye framed by a scar he'd received months ago.

Yes, Aizawa Shouta thought that it should rain every day. Because his sun was forever gone.

He bit back a chocked sob.

"Till tomorrow... Hizashi"