Thousands of years of secrets buried in the sea of flowers, sad memories rising and falling in Kawahara.
I searched and searched, thinking that the owner of that obsidian was you.
I am willing to endure the burning of the three flavors of real fire to pursue that illusory figure.
I never thought that the real you, dressed in white, elegant and pure, has been waiting silently by my side for many years.
Mo Mo, in this life I only want to have the same name as you, share the same body with you, and ultimately share the same bed with you.