The Scent of Mortal Life

Even when she was just an ordinary lotus leaf, she had already been silently watching that person.

She thought that perhaps she was the only one in the world who knew what boundless loneliness lay hidden behind that person's indifference. They were always sitting by the pond, quietly staying there for hours. A faint smile rested on their face, yet for no reason it made people want to burst into tears.

She was delighted to be so close to them, yet every time she caught a glimpse of their expression, her heart ached unbearably. It was a very, very long time before she understood that perhaps she had spent a century cultivating herself just to smooth the sorrow between their brows. She wanted to hold them so they would never feel lonely again, and to see their gentle, tender smile. For reasons she couldn't explain, she was certain that person would look impossibly beautiful when they smiled.

She fell in love with that person, without hesitation, knowing full well that because of the sins of a past life, they would never be able to find love. Then let her fall into hell in their place, so they could find happiness in the mortal world.

Much, much later, she leaned against them in their arms, gazing at the fresh green of the garden. Their warmth passed through her thin spring clothes. In the warm breeze, she remembered the deaths and partings, the lives and farewells that had spanned lifetimes, then raised her head and pressed a kiss to their lips.

How wonderful. You're still in this world, and so am I, and we're together.