Hibiscus flowers fall towards the opening.
It seems that I have spent my whole life to bloom beautifully.
She once thought that the love between them was like hibiscus, blooming for a short moment and then dying in the wash of time.
Was the five-year agreement just her insistence?
When he appeared in her sight again, his sharp outline was so distant and indifferent.
But he asked her, was the agreement made that year still valid?
It turned out that, like her, he always held on to that relationship.
When he reached out his hand to hold her, she hesitated.
It should have been a moment of great joy, but she hesitated.
Can his questioning, his anger, drag her out of her protective shell?
Can she, who is cowardly and timid, hold his hand and never be separated again?
Can they resolve the grudges of the previous generation, resolve the shadow that remains in her heart, and find a happy future that only belongs to them?
Perhaps, love has its own destiny...
A very quiet and slow story.
If you encounter it by chance, I hope you can smile knowingly between the lines. That is my wish.
Ancient style and new writing.
Conception: