In a moment of leisure, I somehow dreamed of a young man. His snow-white hair spilled across the ground, adorned with cherry-blossom petals drifting down now and then, while two deep-red demon horns grew from his forehead.
He seemed to be sitting right in front of me, raising a cup to invite me to drink.
There was nothing covering his face, so why did I still feel as though a cloth was wrapped around his eyes?
The young man had not opened his eyes, yet I still felt he could see everything.
Why did I know that he could understand everything, yet was blind?
His face was covered in smiles, so why did I feel that he was so sad that tears began to fall from my eyes?
“Long time no see. It's our first meeting.”
