The wind and snow are blowing, and the sound of the flute ends.
A trickle of blood flowed from the corner of the man's mouth. His stomach hurt, so he leaned on the woman's shoulder.
In a daze, I heard the woman's cold voice: "You shouldn't have saved me that day!" The words were cold and without any nostalgia.
The man shook his head, very weakly: "Since the fate is at the end, the fate is resolved here."
As he spoke, he spat out another mouthful of blood and said tremblingly: "Ake, we are clear."
The woman sneered: "How do we clear things up?"
…
The snow and rain are lingering, but only one person is left, heartbroken and empty.
Intention: How deep is the passion, the sunset in the mountains and the autumn rain