Does it really matter who likes whom, or who hates whom?
Though there are countless people in this world, each person comes into it alone and leaves it alone. There is no one else they can truly rely on or keep them company.
No matter how distant the journey, how surprising the bond, or how hard it is to part from a pair of eyes, everything must come to an end one day. How can anyone escape parting and death?
He sat in the wilderness, where broken swords and tattered banners stood planted in the earth, gazing at the tide of enemies surging toward him from afar.
Suddenly, he thought of a few insignificant things.
Like the scent of lavender.
Like the endless chorus of frogs and cicadas in the fields on a summer night.
Like the orange cat that loved to nap in the sun on the windowsill.
Like the woman dancing beside a campfire beneath the stars.
Then he slapped his thighs, picked up his bloodstained sword, and strode forward.
The Wheel of Origin's Paradox began to turn.
One unlucky fellow was tossed into overlapping times and spaces before he could even light a cigarette.
