Falling Leaves, Half-Summer Not Yet Over

Have you ever seen the flowers of the other shore bloom so profusely?

Like clusters of bewitching flames, they swirl around blood-red butterflies. Though we know it's a calamity, we still throw ourselves into it without hesitation. All that remains are shocking scars, as vivid as those blazing red flames, burning every memory of the past to ash. They mercilessly devour the last remnants of warmth, leaving only numb indifference.

He once said that meeting me was the greatest good fortune of his life.

But he was so terribly unfortunate.

I never told him that I loved him.

And now, I regret it.

I can't forget that night. He was covered in blood, his hands were cold, yet he still smiled so warmly.

Sometimes I ask myself: if I had known that would be the last time we met, would I still have treated him that way?

But I forgot that in this world, there are no what-ifs.

My dear, wherever you are now, please take care of yourself.

In our next life, I'll recognize you at first sight.

In our next life, I won't hurt you again.

In our next life, I'll love you the way you deserve.