The gentle breeze brushes against the cheeks.
Under the warm sunlight, the fragrance of the garden is so familiar...
...Nostalgic...
The voice of an old friend keeps rambling on about his remarkably proud creation.
It's practically a lullaby inducing sleep.
A girl with pink braided hair pours tea into several porcelain cups.
Feeling a soft body lazily burrowing into the embrace...
...Instinctively tightened the hug in response to her attachment... gently stroking her snow-white long hair...
A petite golden-haired and blue-eyed figure is wielding a blade disproportionate to his size in the courtyard, cutting through the air with vigor.
"Are you still listening? Give me a few more ideas; my creativity is about to run dry again."
The old friend halts his words, his aging voice brimming with helplessness.
"...Ah... I'm here...
Hm?... What did you just say again?..."
.....These intoxicating times...
...Wish they could last forever...
