Though the flowers bloom in dazzling hues, they are all left to withered wells and crumbling walls.
Alas, how fleeting this springtime is.
History cannot be changed, yet it is constantly shaping the present. It has no right or wrong, no good or bad; that depends on the fate of those who make it. Perhaps this is the detour that youth was destined to take. It chose to unfold in a difficult way. Though its intentions were kind, the scars it left behind were cruel. Even projecting it into another timeline to atone is futile, because reality is far more merciless than fiction.
This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.
