The rose-colored sky reflected our cheeks red. I wonder if they were dyed red by blood. I blindly held onto the blood wound, killing endlessly as if being controlled. You came in front of me, ignored me and pierced your chest with the sword, grabbed my hand and whispered in my ear: "Don't do this anymore..." But I remained dumb and continued to pierce your chest with the sword. Your blood fell on the earth and bloomed into countless blue roses. Each one was delicate and beautiful, but after you finished saying these words, they all withered in an instant, just like your life, gone forever. Does my soul weep? I don't know, I'm just a puppet. ． ． ． ． ．