The snow fell heavily and arrogantly in the twelfth year of the Showa era.
The sky was so dark that it felt like someone was holding your nose and mouth, the wind and snow were raging, and the white on the ground was mixed with solidified blood stains, making it muddy. A banner from a store not far away was torn off by the wind and rolled on the ground, accidentally getting dirty.
The waiter in the store wore a felt hat while cursing and shouting about bad luck as he ran around picking it up.
The daughter of the Fu family knelt in the raging wind and snow, teetering.
This year, she was twelve years old.
From then on, the pearl fell into the dust, and my spine was bent by the snow of this day throughout my life. Can't get up again.
Intention: A pony caught in a sigh, fire caught in a stone, body caught in a dream.