The Rising Sun

This is just a small town, just a small place. I'm used to singing and laughing, I'm used to being domineering, They are used to being bullies on the street, and they are used to bullying men and women. Why is there bloodshed, why is there fighting and conspiracy... One is the sweetheart of our childhood sweethearts, One is an indifferent, wise and calm bystander, One is the deep love between sisters, One is brotherhood, Everyone is calling me young master, young master. These people who grew up together and experienced ups and downs together, Who are they? Forget about them, who am I myself?