Clouds in the Sky, Flowers in the Mirror

A young woman blossoms in the pavilion, while the boy by your side knows you not. If meeting was a game of chess, then you and I, caught in its play, moved from truth and lies to illusion and reality, from tender first love to grief and despair. Was every step carefully plotted according to your plans, or was any of it truly part of our past? How short life is, yet in the blink of an eye, years have passed beneath your hand... So be it, then. In the next life, may we never meet again.