Japan, Haneda Airport.
Hino Kahoko looked at the glass partition from the side and could see the plane taking off and landing at a glance. He lowered his golden eyes, touched the red violin box on his lap, and meditated deeply as if there was no one around him. People passing by looked at her sideways. No one knew which flight she was taking, and no one knew where she was going. However, no one could ignore her classical and tranquil aura.
As a result, people's steps became a little lighter.
I don't know where this journey leads.
I just found fragments of the ticket to Vienna from the fragments of memory.
So off I went.
I didn't know at that time that what was waiting for me was the cruel past. It was the past that some people tried their best to hope that I would remember, and that someone tried their best to hope that I would give up.
I thought I could achieve some kind of happiness.