They say that when people die, they begin to reminisce about their lives, and this is indeed true. Countless images poured out of my mind. It feels like I am back to the age of 16, the most beautiful year when I met you.
―Archie, I don't like roses, their thorns prick me very painfully.
Tsk, long-winded. It would be nice to pick flowers for you, but also picky.
But I like mandalas, and I really don't like roses.
Idiot, datura is poisonous and will hurt you. I have already pulled out the thorns from the rose for you.
——Do you hate me? My origin is unknown and I stole your mother away. There is no need to be cowardly, I will always hold you back at the critical moment, and you need everyone's protection.
Don't worry, if you don't feel sorry for you, I won't care about you. You are the person appointed by the prophet, so I won't save you.
Oh, I know, I know, don't say it, I...
I'm telling you, don't be too presumptuous to think that I'll hate you. And you are really holding yourself back. So just stay by my side and don't run around.
——The words you always say are always so cold. You can make me feel very warm, even though you are not sunshine. But it was the starlight that illuminated me on my way home, but I was too stupid and misunderstood your words again and again. We miss again and again.