Like a flower that has yet to bloom, like ice that has yet to freeze.
Yet it seems there are countless things being said, though sadly I can’t understand them.
The people in the story fight to the death; those outside it feel neither pain nor concern.
As for whether it’s true or not, who knows? Who even cares?
I tell my story, stubbornly refusing to see reason.
You listen to yours, and let fate decide whether we meet or part.
★ [Author’s Rambling] ★
Lately, I’ve wanted to write something thoughtful, rather than a wish-fulfillment romance full of sweetness and feel-good thrills. Of course, doing this is practically asking for trouble. Serious stories are doomed to flop. But I still want to convey something through my writing.
This story may be rather heavy. I’ve recorded the questions I’m pondering and the emotions I want to portray through it. Whether you like this sort of thing, and what you take away from it, are entirely up to you.
I write my story, stubbornly refusing to see reason.
You read yours, and let fate decide whether we meet or part.
★ [A Few Things to Know Before Reading] ★
1. The point of view shifts. It’s mainly first person, but switches to third person at times.
2. The writing style is plain. I’m not going for ornate prose anymore. To be honest, straining to come up with flowery metaphors is exhausting.
3. The male lead is unclear. Whoever you think the male lead is, that’s who he is. It could be the person telling the story, the boy in the straw hat, the red-haired, golden-eyed captain with a violent temper, or maybe there’s no such bullshit as a male lead from beginning to end. To hell with love.
Theme: Passion never fades, and freedom never dies.
