That winter I moved back to Kanagawa from Tokyo.
The road along the way is piled with white snowflakes, exuding a gentle atmosphere in the late moonlight. It danced messily in the raging wind, like a piece of broken cloth. Looking at the melting snowflakes, I seemed to hear the sound of time breaking.
As if I couldn't bear it for a moment, I raised my head. The sky was emitting a cool and deep arc of light with a dark blue tone, which was very much like his eyes.
Fuji Zhousuke.