The first time I met him was in the third year of high school, and I saw him hugging her. The second time I met him was in a bar, and I saw his noble and reserved look. The third time I met him was at the scene of a car accident, but what I saw was a bright mandala flower on his side. My body blossomed, and what followed was the collapse of my seven-year secret love. I think I still liked him at the age of eighteen, his comfort and cheerfulness, and more importantly, he was safer then. If there is a next life, I hope he will not meet me again...
Intention: secret love