C71 Flowers in the Fog

Flowers are not flowers, fog is not fog.

As I gradually flew out of this haze, looking at the third floor of the building that seemed to be becoming clearer, I suddenly felt a sense of loss and regret that I hadn't seen for a long time.

There was terror in life and death, and each time one wandered about in life and death, it was a form of training that was the best for one's self.

Vaguely