A figure in white crossed his life.
She said she was a white silk sash, destined only to lead him to his doom.
Without hesitation, he wound the love of a lifetime around her.
The sash snapped, drifting quietly from the edge of the world, just as she had arrived.
His longing was severed, but leaving him was a choice she never regretted.
She wanted him to live well, carrying on with the glory he had always possessed.
She wanted to find out who she was.
Even if she could never forget him, facing an army of thousands for her, his robes stained red.
Even if she could never forget his unwavering gaze, even beneath her sword.
Even if she could never forget how he took her hand and led her out of captivity.
She still had to go.
Fate had been playing with them from the very beginning.
Their first meeting was the prelude to a calamity from which there would be no escape.
A thousand layers of spray, like longing.
Across ten thousand miles of mist, they gazed at each other from afar.
Perhaps this was the best ending.
Gently float into this nook. . . Float away quietly
A handful of flowers, some encouragement, come on