How long was it? The man's eyes stuck together; it was no longer than two hours of sleep. He was woken up by the faint, simple melody coming from outside.

  Exiting the shack, Trashman saw Yuki. She was sitting near the mauled guitar, but it still could produce sound with three of its strings. Yuki was repeating the same motion again and again, again and again, again and again, like she was in trance.

  Everywhere was covered in snow but not around her. How long has she been playing? It snowed so much over past two hours.

  "Oh, sorry, did I wake you up with my tune?" -Asked Yuki. The joy that she had fallen asleep with vanished.

  "No, I don't mind." -Said the man.

  "..." -Yuki looked at the guitar in silence and stood up.

  She used the man's makeshift blanket as a rag to cover her from snow and cold. Small snowflakes were spiraling around them. Even though Yuki met many cold winters with her family, this one was quite warm. Phantomically warm.

  "Mister, do you ever had a family?" -Asked the child.

  "Not really." -Replied the man.

  He did not really want to talk about, he himself didn't know why though. Right now he wanted to get through his morning routine now that he's awake.

  "Why do you spell out letters?" -Asked Yuki.

  "Hmm. Why really?" -The man asked out loud.

  He won't forget how to speak for now because of Yuki. Nothing comes on his mind, all he could say is that it's the part of his routine.

  "My dad also wanted to keep his routine, even though it was even more... Useless." -The last word coming out of Yuki's mouth was muffled. She just couldn't understand why he had to keep doing this. Maybe that's because she didn't have any routine herself?

  Her home wasn't like the Dump. It was a big house on the edge of the town with many more people, just like she is, all different.

  "How old are you, mister? How did you live here for so long?" -Asked Yuki.

  "I don't remember how old I am. I got used to this place; this is how I survived." -Answered the man.

  "I see. This is your home. Mister, you remind me of my father."

  "I do?"

  "Yes. But let's not talk about him. Do you want to take out some trash together?" -Yuki diverted the theme.

  She did not want to get bored here. Even though this place is a hellscape, Yuki finally had fun in a while. Come to think about, her life looked both like her father and like Trashman's... No, she did not want to think about it.

  Yuki hopped into a carrier and wanted the man to ride her around. She commanded him for a while and he listened but the more and more things they collected and larger her throne of junk became, the paler she looked.

  Not even hour later, Yuki was already tired. But the man was brimming with joy, he's a Trashman after all and they got so much of it. New junk to fiddle with, some food, and even another corpse to bury.

  When they got home, the man started to sort the trash. After was sorted, he decided to throw the corpse out because it didn't look like it qualified as a human.

  "Wait. -Yuki pulls Trashman's sleeve.

  Can we bury it?" -She asks in a quiet voice.

  "Hmm. Alright, let's go to the back then." -Agreed the man.

  "Can't we just make another row here?"

  The man thinks for a moment.

  "Did you never consider making another row before?" -Asked Yuki.

  "No."

  "Nngh, why are you all so stubborn, just following what you've been told, not even wanting to think for yourself?!" -Shouted Yuki in frustration.

  "Sorry." -The man apologised. He didn't understand why, but he felt like he should.

  Trashman dug out another grave in the newly found row while Yuki watched with her head in her knees. His speed was incredible, and he didn't lack in strength either, being able to easily throw the corpse inside the hole and quickly fill it with dirt and snow.

  Yuki approached the grave. She stuck her hands together and closed eyes, saying a prayer. All this time she was silently letting tears run from her eyes, hiding behind her palms, holding her cry.

  The world she lived in prior to falling into the Dump was a normality for her; she didn't even know a place like this could exist. Is this hell?

  Yuki was the only child in the family of a successful business trader and his wife, who was keeping their house afloat. They were a happy family.

  After years of gathering money for his family, Yuki's father considered retiring to spend more time with them. He, however, wasn't the most interesting person to talk to, but his daughter and his wife didn't care about that.

  Yuki's mother married her father because he was successful and rich, but after Yuki was born, her life changed drastically. She stopped going out, stopped drinking and wanted to find a job for herself, but her husband said that she should not bother, as he is the one in charge.

  That sparked new love in her, and they all started spending more time as a family together. But Yuki's father still spent most his time working, so her mother had to take care of her.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Being taught by the mother with no special interests, all Yuki was doing was watching cartoons all day. Now, what can her mom teach her? How do you even handle a child?

  "Wanna play tennis!?" -Shouted Yuki's mother. It wasn't an even match.

  "Twelve to one against a child; oh how could I fail so miserably?" -Yuki's mother was in despair.

  "I've seen how they play it in the cartoon!" -Yuki demolished her mother even further.

  A day later.

  "Wanna draw something?!" -Another suggestion. Yuki was ready.

  Yuki's mother presented a crudely drawn pineapple with no shadows. Her face was full of delight; she won; it is widely known that children are bad at drawing.

  "Is... IS THAT YOUR FATHER?!" -Shouted Yuki's mother, looking at an even more realistic than she is drawing of her own husband. She hanged this picture on the fridge.

  A day later.

  "Wanna see some magic?!" -Yuki's mother was a pretty good pickpocketer in her days, so she had some tricks up her sleeves.

  "UOOOOOH!!!" -Shouted Yuki's mother after she pulled four aces under her sleeves (all of which was put there by Yuki).

  Two days later.

  "Mama, is there anything you're good except cooking?" -Asked Yuki, chomping on the chocolate molten lava cake piece cooked by her mother.

  "Well, haha, not really, I discovered that the best way to be good at something is to dedicate your whole life to it. So... If you're troubled in being anything, remember that you're always good at being you!" -Yuki's mother said.

  "Mama, that is the phrase from the cartoon we watched yesterday." -Replied Yuki.

  "Oh, aah, I thought you were asleep, teehee~... But it is true that I want to be a good mother for you and dedicate the rest of my life to you, Yuki." -After these words, Yuki blushed and sipped some tomato juice. It's not that bad, grow down.

  The door in the hallway opened, welcoming the father of the family. He promised that he would read Yuki some story books before bed today, so he took unplanned day off. However, the bed wasn't big enough to fit three people.

  "Wait, three?" -Yuki's father stopped reading midway sentence and questioned the atmosphere.

  Yuki's mother crawled on the side of the bed, stealing half the blanket from the father's side.

  "You continue, continue." -She said with a grin.

  Yuki's father was always interested in books, but never had time to read them because of work. Now that there is time, he can finally spend it on his interests, the genres he's interested in and... What are they?

  The book that he read was the one Yuki wanted, but what was the book that he enjoyed? Thinking of this, he found it ironic that nothing was the thing that bound him and his wife. When he finally retired, he however felt himself even worse than when he was working all day and night.

  He tried to find what he is interested in and in this pursuit he found out that even just seeking for this has been enjoyable.

  It's been years since he retired. Most of the time he was sitting in his room, reading and thinking about what he read.

  "Dad, what are you reading this time?" -Asked Yuki.

  Before he answers, he takes a pill from the pillbox and eats it. Yuki always asked what are these for but he never answered. He just says it's a part of his routine.

  "Yuki, what do you think human is?" -He asks.

  "Mmmh. I don't know. It's me, mom and you. You're... Reading these phislopofy books again?" -Asks Yuki. It's all he reads in recent time.

  "Hahah, it's called philosophy. Isn't it interesting? What are we here for, what we are, what is a human, who made us? I find that striving for answers is really interesting in its own way, don't you think?"

  "Well, I'm fine with my answers, I don't need other ones. You've been asking this for years but you didn't answer to any, so I did it myself... Can you read something for me?"

  "Oh, of course, do you want Plato? Maybe Kant?"

  "I meant something I like." -Said Yuki and left the room.

  Yuki now came to her mother. She was leaving for work. Ever since Yuki's father started taking that medicine, her mother had to find a job because money turned out to be a finite resource.

  "Mom, can we play?" -Asked Yuki. She knew that her mother is going away again, but she couldn't help but ask.

  "Later, dear, I have to work. Maybe we'll finish knitting that apron you wanted, my little chef?~" -Asked the mother cheerfully. Her smile always made Yuki warm and hopeful. She wasn't happy with her husband's obsession over philosophy too, but she had found herself in knitting, it seems.

  Yuki's father approached them. He had to buy new medicine and visit the book club he goes to every other day. He asked Yuki to cook something for herself because he will be late and so is her mother. Yuki didn't like this. For all these years, this medicine was just a placebo.

  Alone in such a big house. It would be a blessed day for every kid, but not really for Yuki. She was homeschooled by her father, but he always used these moments to talk about philosophy.

  Yuki stood alone in the kitchen. She decided to cook omelette. She managed this task really well alone. But...

  "For who... Am I cooking?" -Thought Yuki.

  She was alone. And in so much time, she now felt alone. It's boring here. It really is. Maybe she should read some book? About why she is alone. And who's that person she is cooking for.

  It was a long, long wait. When the door finally opened, Yuki rushed to it, hugging both her parents. They all stayed up late. Yuki and her mom knitting new dress and her father seeking for answers he could never find.

  In the next morning, Yuki's father didn't feel good. When her mother left for work, she was angry at her father, so she didn't come to ask him to read her stories and just watched cartoons all day.

  When Yuki's mother returned, she called the father. But he didn't answer. She called again. But he didn't answer.

  On the next day, snow was as cold as his lifeless body on the funeral. Yuki's mother couldn't take her because the ceremony wasn't properly done. All the money went to placebo, so all the woman could do was watch how the snow felt on the flowers near his grave.

  "I'm... I'm so sorry, Yuki... I couldn't do anything. Oooo, my Yuki, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,I'msorrysorrysorrysorrysorry... I'm sorry..." -Weeping woman was clenching Yuki by her dress.

  Yuki didn't understand why her mother was so apologetic, because she wasn't saying anything else.

  "I'm sorry that your father died... That's all my fault. For not being good enough mother... And good enough wife..." -Explained the woman.

  It dawned on Yuki. A heaviest burden that a child could bear - a death of the beloved parent. It felt like a crushing stream of everything breaking was falling on Yuki. She didn't want to hear anything.

  Releasing from the grasp of the poor woman, she ran in tears.

  "Yuki, wait!!!" -Shouted woman, got up and chased after her.

  Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. No? NO. Not alone. There is still someone. A person. Yuki's whole world was her family. Her family and her family alone. He's dead. He's dead. Not returning. Did you even love him? Excusing yourself? Yes. I didn't do anything. This isn't how it's supposed to be; he's supposed to be alive and reading me a story.

  But he's dead. Yuki's father is dead. She couldn't see anything ahead of herself. In truth, not anything at all. She just wanted to run. Her mother always taught her to be strong. Her cartoons always taught her to be strong. Her father always asked; are you strong?

  Are you strong, Yuki? She approached a local dump where all the trash disappears. It was a private zone. But. If all the trash disappears her, wouldn't it be nice, if she disappeared too? What's even deeper than the coffin of your loved one?

  Yuki wanted to disappear from this world. She climbed over the fence that was gated with barbed wire, cutting herself multiple times in a process, and jumped. She slid down the slope of garbage. And disappeared.

  Just behind the fence was her mother. Reaching her weak hand to the gate, all in tears, on the ground again. She couldn't do anything but look. Her makeup flattened all over her face. Her eyes filled with despair and hopelessness. They can't close.

  "Yu... Ki..." -She whispers. She wanted to call out her more and more, more and more until Yuki answers. But she won't answer. And neither did woman have enough strength left in her to do it.

  And the snowflakes spiraled in dance around her. A cruel and cold one, unforgiving and vindictive.

  It was snowing. This cold was burning Yuki's scars. All of them.

  She couldn't say goodbye to her father before he passed away. She imagined that below this grave was him, now with no world to ever see him again. And with no her own world for her to see again.

  She burst into tears, releasing all the snow that gathered on her in the air. But it just fell on her again. She was crying over the grave of another unknown corpse. Corpse, much like her father.