I Swear I Won’t Bother You Again!

This man alone is on his side, no matter what time, no matter who becomes the enemy.

Whatever you say.

× × × ×

By the time Violet and I broke up and Yulan got home, the sky was getting darker. It's basically this time of the day, so there's nothing special about the family, and only minimal greetings and servants. My parents and I would meet each other for dinner after this.

The parents who took Yulan are both gently mypace. The nostalgia is deep and the vessels are big, they value their own values, but therefore interference with others is minimal. That's not why they were thin feelings or indifferent, they were people who understood people's distance and boundaries properly.

Even from Yulan's perspective of recognizing others first with malice and indifference, I think they are impartial personalities. If Yulan had been born as their son from the beginning, he would have sincerely respected and targeted his back. If I can never cover it, I can't be like them now, and I don't want to be like them. Because the day of admiration for fairness has passed a long time ago.

I entered the room and first glazed the pocket watch I had taken out of my bag. The flowers on the pocket watch lid gleam through the glass and are so beautiful that there is no more. I couldn't find a case to match the strict protection and the beauty of my pocket watch, and they kept pinching my zero tease mouth to make the ideal thing.

Get dressed for ease and leave your uniform hanging together on the couch, someone will collect it while Yulan leaves the room. I try not to touch anything in this room, but only to clean up my clothes and garbage. Thanks to my surroundings for adapting to Yulan, who has always preferred one. The concubine son of a king doesn't really want to be involved even when he's the one to serve. When Yulan is in his room, if he were to come visit, it would be just his parents.

Sit in a chair placed at the window and raise one leg. Put your jaw on that knee, and at the end of your gaze stand a picture lined up in a window frame. But there's no shadow in the memories in it, it's a faded embossed flower, it's a palm-sized note, it's a chopped string.

A loosely lifted fingertip glances over the cold film at the embossed flower. Even if you don't cut out the scene in a photo, a flower that deteriorates and loses its vibrancy opens the door to memory.

When I saw these flowers together, I didn't even know what their names were and I just said they were cute. They make herds with the same treatment as weeds, but they don't die. That's what I found out when I was playing in the library with them. The two of us surround one book, note the book we want to read, and circle it because we're done reading it. In my preference for drawings and children's history books over stories, knowing the jinx of strings that would make my wish come true if I cut them naturally.

I remember every word Violet said, every expression, every sky, every wind, every scent.

(Finally, here we are)

Make a noise with each other, knees and foreheads bump into each other. A young self who could only trap shards of happiness without even leaving a picture. When I didn't even realize that Violet, laughing in front of me, was being crushed by a painful reality as soon as I turned my back.

I didn't even know what greed meant, I just believed purely, without foundation, that eternity would be guaranteed as long as I had thoughts. You were swimming in muddy water, and the sweetness characteristic of the child makes you optimistic. When I realize that there is no permanence in any thing and that continuity requires strength in everything, the countdown to the end is beginning and I am reminded of my worthlessness.

I can do anything for her happiness, I can't believe it doesn't make sense just to think.

(So far, no, from here. Still, just ready to go down)

Strike him in the forehead over and over again in an attempt to calm down the feeling of deviation. Quickly to get on with it, if you get caught off guard and get stuck at your feet, everything you've ever done will go back to blisters.

I threw up a cup of air and closed my eyes, and behind my eyelids, a soldered violet was reaching this way.

All the time, it's Violet who stretches out. So Yulan can stand, and I think I'll walk to her. Because Yulan, who acts with self-interpretation and greed, is an undisputed egoist, but has no shadow or form when it comes to self-ownership.

Violet's things from his head, his fingertips, his clogged penis, his blood, his life, his soul.

That's why I need her to stay a caged bird. In a world of peace and braids, for life, without knowing the shadows of external enemies. Wherever I want to go, I'll take it. If you want to fly, I'll make a wide, big cage. When something happens, I want you to stay where this body can be a shield.

If I lose my owner, only one god, if I can't breathe.

I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand it.

(It's okay, I can, I'll do it. Definitely not...... this time, definitely)

The chewed lips taste bloody. My clawed palms hurt and I could see my skin slowly chopping a thousand. I felt like I had a twitching fever, but I don't feel any pain. I don't care, to this extent.

Compared to the despair of that day, when a world I love and don't stop, was crushed and broken.