“Grandma, I saw those dreams again.”
“Did you, my dear? Was it the same as before?”
“Mm… I don’t know what it means. Why do I keep seeing those dreams?”
“You see, Sumi… The Lunarelia’s bloom carries with it the thoughts and feelings of all those long gone, across the distance and into one’s heart. As long as we live in the same world, we are connected in some ways, and this is how we always remember each other.”
“Really, Grandma?”
“Really. And once I’m gone, my memories will also stay with my dear little Sumi, accompanying you every day.”
“What do you mean when you’re gone? Grandma, are you going somewhere?”
Her grandmother’s aged face softens into a smile. The wrinkles around her eyes are as vivid as the warmth of her hand as she pats her granddaughter’s head.
The little girl does not understand. She reaches out to hold her grandmother’s hand, but at that time, everything around her begins to blur, and the elderly woman’s figure, too, sinks into the light.
“Grandma?!”
Her hand only grabs empty air.
She shouts, she runs, she jumps into that light, but her grandmother can no longer be seen. Instead, she is thrown back to the side of a lake, the same scenery that always greets her every night, in her every dream.
Around her, people come and go. There are meetings and partings, smiles and tears. She watches two lovers holding hands, unwilling to separate. She witnesses parents welcoming their long-lost child back home. She sees an entire village coming together, quietly, standing by the side of the lake. A thousand candles light up, turning the shore into a sea of glimmering stars.
There’s a flower above the mirror-like water. Amid the lights of the candles, the petals bloom softly; a wave of emotions spills from within, surging toward her like a bursting dam.
And then she sees another girl, just like her, at the other end of the lake; her figure shifts and sways, as if dancing to a nameless tune.
***
Sumi wakes up with a gasp.
The familiar ceiling of her bedroom welcomes her with the faint light of the morning sun slipping from the curtain gaps. Her red hair is stuck to her temples. After a moment passes, she belatedly realizes she has been clutching at her blanket, and that her breathing has quickened.
Sumi closes her eyes once more and sighs.
“Again.”
She pushes away her blanket and rises to a sitting position. Her heart is racing still; although the dream was by no means a nightmare, it still clutched at her heartstrings, tightly, as it always did. Her grandmother’s words, her smile and the warmth of her hand, still linger in her ears and on her head. It is as if she was truly there, right beside her, before she was gone once more, always in the blink of an eye.
“...It’s been so long. Yet still I have never understood what you told me back then…Grandma.”
As she leaves her bed, Sumi’s gaze sweeps past a framed little photo on a small desk at her bedside. Her younger self is portrayed at the center, obliviously smiling with a slightly melted ice cream in her hand. Her mother and grandmother are smiling, too; one on her right, and the other on her left. The three of them share the same red hair, although her grandmother’s, once as bright and vivid, had been infiltrated with wisps of grey hair.
A pity that out of the three people in that joyful photograph, only one still remains.
Sumi’s phone, which has been sitting on the same table, starts vibrating at that moment. The screen lights up, showing a familiar name on the display.
[“Are you awake yet?”]
Valentine has sent her a message.
Sumi stares at it for a while. The question is so simple, and the answer can’t be any simpler. But for some reason, she feels a lump in her throat as she is about to reach for her phone. It is as though an invisible chain is stopping her from responding to Valentine’s message.
Quietly, Sumi purses her lips. She pulls back her half-outstretched hand and leaves her phone alone. The screen gradually dims as Sumi’s figure disappears into the bathroom.
She brushes her teeth, washes her face, and takes a shower.
She dons a dress with floral patterns and ties up her long red hair.
She puts on a bit of makeup on her face to freshen up her look.
When she returns to the bedroom once more, the screen of her phone is lit up.
[“I’m going to the studio for a bit of practice today. Are you coming?”]
There is no precedent or subsequent message. Valentine did not mull over the question of whether the person she was trying to reach was still asleep or awake. She did not ask why Sumi didn’t answer her immediately, liberating the recipient of her message from the pressure of finding reasons.
As if allowing Sumi to answer when she is ready.
As if giving time for Sumi to gather her thoughts.
Sumi finally picks up her phone. Her heart is full of jumbled emotions as her fingers hover above the screen, about to type in her answer. The scenes she witnessed in her dream are still vivid in her mind; even more so are the feelings conveyed within those memories. She isn’t sure if her heart feels heavy, or if it’s something else. It is a sensation she cannot put into words, and it has been quite a long while since she has struggled to find words for this feeling.
After a long pause, her fingers finally move.
[“I have to work on a flower arrangement order this afternoon.”] She says. [“I’m sorry. I can’t go with you today.”]
***
“Oh, my! If it isn’t Sumi. Are you the one running the shop now?”
A cheerful voice greets her when she steps out to flip the store sign. Sumi finds a middle-aged woman standing on the sidewalk, just a few steps away from her flower shop. She thinks the woman looks quite familiar. After racking her brain for a while, she finally remembers that this person used to live next to her family’s home when she was a child.
“Auntie, it’s been a long time.” She smiles at the woman. “I thought you’d moved to the countryside. I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“My nephew’s getting married this weekend. The whole family’s getting together.” The woman replies. “In fact, I’m on the way to his place now. But since I’m in the area, I just thought I’d go have a look at the neighborhood where I used to live. You know, just for a little trip down memory lane.”
Having said this, the middle-aged woman looks at Sumi from head to toe, her smile widening.
“You’re all grown up now!” She says merrily. “I still remember when you used to tug at your Grandma’s skirt whenever she took you out for a walk. How time flies.”
The woman sighs.
“If only the two of them were still here…” A look of regret pools in her eyes when she looks at Sumi again. “Your Grandma and your Mother would be happy to see you grow into such a fine young lady.”
“It’s alright, Auntie. I still have the flower shop with me. It’s the most beautiful gift they could’ve ever left me with.” Sumi smiles at her. “At first, I doubted myself, wondering if I had it in me to run the shop like they did. It turns out this is more fun than I imagined.”
“Good for you, good for you.” The woman nods approvingly. “Well then… Since I’m here and you’re already open, can I get a small bouquet for my nephew and his soon-to-be wife? I think it would make a perfect little gift.”
“Of course. What kind of flowers would you like to get?”
Sumi leads the middle-aged woman inside and shows her the shop’s most prized collection. She explains the meaning of the blossoms to her, all the while patiently listening to her elder speaking more about her family. After a while, they come up with a small bundle of bright colored flowers, freshly picked from their patches.
The woman thus bids her farewell, not forgetting to shower Sumi with advice on how to take care of herself and that she can reach out to her if she needs help.
With that, her first customer of the day finally left.
Despite that little surprise in the morning, it promises to be yet another ordinary workday in the flower shop. Some people come to buy flowers, some come just to take a look around, while others come to place orders to be delivered at a specific date. Sumi attends to them all with a smile on her face. The number of visitors is not overwhelming, but they come steadily one after another. Only once lunch break arrives does Sumi finally manage to get a bit of rest.
“Phew…”
With the back of her hand, Sumi wipes a bead of sweat from her temple. The day is quite cool, but walking back and forth around the store proves to be quite a workout in and of itself. She closes the front with a sign saying “On break,’ then retreats to the back of the shop, taking out a sandwich she’d packed before heading for work.
“Alright. Bon appétit…I guess…”
She takes a bite of her sandwich.
The floral fragrance lingering in the air accompanies her quiet lunchtime. Outside, the sound of people chatting as they walk by, cars crossing the road, and all sorts of noises commonly found in a bustling city are like muffled murmurs when partially blocked by the closed windows.
Sumi casts a look at the interior of the shop as she slowly eats her lunch.
The flowers, the doorframe, the toolbox, the small garden behind the shop… Everything is just the same, but at the same time, they look different.
“If only the two of them were still here…”
The words her old acquaintance said this morning rise in the back of Sumi’s mind. Back then, this shop used to belong to her grandmother who, in turn, gave it to her mother. It was never too crowded; there were just enough visitors to keep the shop running, just like how it is today. But even if the place remains unchanged, the quietness that comes from the disappearance of two people who should’ve been here with her does feel rather deafening at times.
And when she is surrounded by silence like this, shards and pieces of her dreams always return to fill her mind.
“What am I to do with all of these…?”
Memories of joy, memories of grief, of love and regret… Of all the human emotions that exist in this world, there is not one that Sumi hasn’t witnessed in her dreams at night. A long, long time ago, they were merely bits and pieces of times bygone, of events that she only ever caught glimpses of, enough to make a mark in her own memory, but not to the point that they lingered in her mind for long.
Nowadays, however, the scenes she witnesses at night steadily grow more vivid. In the beginning, she thought it was like watching a movie, one where she would invest a portion of her own emotions while seeing things unfold, and move on when morning came. But the more she tries to put it out of sight, out of mind, the more these memories envelop her entirely, beckoning for her to share the unfolding emotions, and to let it stay with her even for days to come.
Sumi is at a lost of what to do.
She is willing to remember everything. She believes memories of the past should not be forgotten, even if they happened a long, long time ago, because every person is unique, and each one of them has a role to play in this vast, wild world.
But she is only one person. To what extent should she remember them? How long must she keep it to herself? The way these memories keep returning to her, persistently so, feels as if they are pleading with her to share them with the world. But how is she supposed to do it? Can she do it right? Does she even have the right? The humans’ hearts are complex, and so do their feelings. What if she is incapable of interpreting them correctly? What if she ends up conveying the wrong message?
If that should happen, wouldn’t she be doing a great injustice to those people who have entrusted her with the story of their lives?
At this moment, her phone buzzes again on the table. Sumi breaks free of her deep thoughts at last, casting her gaze down onto the light-up screen.
[“I’ll be in the studio this afternoon. If you have time, feel free to join me.”]
It's from Valentine again.
Another simple message, one that may not mean anything but a casual chat between friends. Sumi reaches out to pick up her phone. However, she ends up withdrawing her hand when it is only halfway toward the tabletop. She stares at the little words in that pop-up notification for a long time, just as she did this morning, until the display of her phone eventually dims.
“I should let her know if I’m coming or not.”
But why is it so difficult just to send a simple “yes" or “no”? At this point, she should've known better than anyone else that the girl at the other end of the line would not blame or force her into doing what she doesn't want to. Valentine always lets her make decisions freely; she always has. She understands Sumi, just as Sumi understands her.
From the day the two of them locked eyes in the middle of the busy street that night, from the moment they rose onto that little stage under the stars.
But perhaps it is exactly for that reason Sumi cannot bring herself to speak with Valentine at this moment. And she is even more afraid to meet her face to face.
Because she knows that Valentine will know.
And she isn't ready for that.
“...I’m sorry, Valentine," Sumi mumbles under her breath; her expression appears complicated. I just can't…"
She picks up her phone and flips the device, screen facing down. With that, she quietly finishes the rest of her lunch and returns to work, thoughtlessly humming a wordless song.
She has forgotten the taste of her sandwich.
***
“Mommy…”
“Hmm? What’s wrong, Sumi dear? Another one of those dreams again?”
“Yeah…”
“I see. Well, don’t be afraid. Come here…”
The little girl climbs onto her mother’s bed. She curls up next to her; their identical red hair sprawled over the pillows. Her mother runs her fingers through her hair, smiling.
“What a special little child you are. The Lunarelia flower doesn’t choose just anyone to carry its petals.”
“Who were all those people? Why am I seeing them?”
“It’s a message from a time long ago, my dear. They once carried it with them, and now they’re passing it on to you.”
“But what should I do with this message?”
“It’s an answer only you can find. Whether you will keep it dear to your heart, or whether you’ll share it with the world, so those stories from long ago will continue to live, it’s all up to you.”
“I… I don’t understand…”
Her mother smiles once more. But when the little girl tries to reach out to her, her fingers seem to touch the surface of water instead. The visage of her mother blurs, swallowed by the ripples.
“M-Mommy?”
She holds out her hand, plunging her entire arm into that invisible water.
Instead of finding her mother, however, there she is again, standing by the side of the same lake, witnessing the passage of time as people come and go, myriads of sentiments carried through their fleeting lives.
She watches the same flower bloom once more, the surge of emotions washing over her like a wave.
At the other end of the lake shore, that other girl remains, still dancing to a melody she cannot hear.
***
The alarm clock rings and the dream shatters. As sunlight spills into her bedroom, Sumi wakes, finding herself drenched in sweat again. She can barely register the repeated jingles causing her phone to vibrate endlessly. By the time she remembers to turn it off, the phone has been ringing so much it nearly falls off the bedside table.
Valentine’s message greets her the moment she looks at the light-up screen. This time, a photo is attached to the chat.
[“Got a new speaker installed yesterday. It sounds much better than the old one.”]
Directly underneath is a photo of the studio Sumi knows too well; a brand new audio speaker can be seen sitting near the side wall with its packaging still scattered on the floor.
She opens her mouth, as if about to speak. But Sumi ends up pursing her lips shut, then her eyes. With a sigh, she puts down her phone and turns away.
A new day begins, but it feels like she is still living in yesterday.
***
For the rest of the week, things are not so busy in the flower shop. Every day, a few customers who have previously placed their order would call in to confirm some things, then some passersby would drop by when drawn by the colorful front of the store, where fresh fragrance always lingers.
Valentine continues to send her a message every now and then. She does not demand any answer, and neither does she persistently contact her to the point of being overwhelming. The way she speaks to Sumi never changes; she only asks her if she’s going to join her in the studio, to grab some meals, and sometimes sends a little update or two about her own progress at practice.
On the contrary, Sumi’s replies become more sparse. At first, she still responds, despite most of it being only her politely declining all of Valentine’s invitations. After that, her response time grows longer until finally, she stops replying to Valentine’s messages altogether.
“Alright… Just a little more until closing time.”
It is late in the afternoon on a Friday.
Letting out a long sigh, Sumi stretches her arms and sits behind her desk inside the shop.
When she isn’t serving customers and taking care of the flower patches, Sumi spends most of her time sitting behind this very same desk. Her old journal sits in front of her, wide open. But not a single word or line is drawn on the empty page; the pen stays perched in the girl’s hand, swaying and spinning without purpose.
All this time, there is always a melody playing in her head. The notes become clearer to her with each passing day, and she often finds herself humming to these very tunes before she even realizes it herself.
But the pages in her journal remain empty. She doesn’t know what to make of this situation; the fragment inside her seems to bloom brighter, yet the resolve in her mind only becomes more obscured. Whenever words come to her, they always evaporate before reaching the tip of her pen.
…No. Perhaps she has already understood since long ago. Yet she is too afraid to admit it, afraid of taking that one step across the line.
Sumi’s eyes hide a complicated feeling within as she gazes at the blank paper.
[“Memories.”] She scribbles on the page at last. [“Convey or preserve?”]
The tiny bell atop the shop’s door jingles.
Sumi promptly closes her journal. Rising to her feet, she steps back into the shop with a smile on her face, intending to greet the visitor.
“Welcome! How can I help–”
The rest of her words remain stuck in her throat, and her smile is frozen on her face.
“Hi, there.” Valentine casually waves her hand, wearing a similarly casual expression. “Done with work already?”
“Oh, I…” For a moment, Sumi finds herself at a loss for words. “I’ll be in half an hour.”
“I see. Hope I’m not bothering you.”
“No, you’re certainly not!” The red-haired girl quickly says, then falls silent again, unconsciously pursing her lips. “Why… Why are you here?”
“I’m in the area.” Valentine steps in, visibly relieved as soon as she feels the cool breeze from the air conditioner. Her eyes find their way to Sumi and the complicated emotions on her face. She inadvertently chuckles. “Checking in on you, of course.”
Her voice sounds as normal as it possibly could. Sumi can even swear she hears a hint of mirth in Valentine’s last words, proof that she is in nothing but a good mood.
Yet the fact that Valentine neither shows reproach nor demands answers from her only serves to make Sumi more uneasy. She knows better than anyone what she’s been doing — or what she isn’t — all this week. The guilt of deliberately ignoring Valentine, putting her responses on hold, weighs heavily in her heart.
If it were her, she would certainly be feeling anxious by now.
“Is it alright if I wait for you inside?” Valentine asks her. “I promise I won’t interfere with your work.”
“Oh… Of course, please come in.” Sumi stutters slightly. “Would you like to drink something? I can make you some cold tea brew.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll just get some water,” says Valentine. She looks past Sumi to find the small garden behind the flower shop. “I’ll wait there, okay?”
Sumi nods, then quietly watches the black-haired girl walk past her.
Half an hour isn’t that long a time, especially at this hour right before closing when the chance of new customers coming in is pretty thin. Usually, Sumi would be using this last stretch of opening hours to do some simple cleanup. But no matter what she does now, whether it’s sitting still or preparing to close the store, she simply cannot bring herself to be calm. Valentine isn’t even watching her, yet Sumi is still on tenterhooks.
By the time she is finally done for good with work, her steps feel as heavy as if someone has chained weights to her ankles as she makes her way to the back garden.
She finds Valentine fiddling on her phone while sitting in a small gazebo.
“Good work today.” The corners of Valentine’s lips pull up into a subtle smile when she sees Sumi stepping out of the flower shop.
“Thanks…”
Sumi takes a seat across from the black-haired girl.
The gazebo has been there since her grandmother was still running the shop. It is old, but Sumi has had it repainted when she took over; all the curves and shapes remain the same, except it doesn’t look like it has aged much. Only the garden chairs and table are brand new, though she has carefully selected a matching style so it would fit in this little pavilion.
The small table stands between the two of them. Valentine’s drink is sitting on top of it, a paper cup filled with plain water.
Sumi casts a brief glance at the black-haired girl, catching a strip of vivid hot pink amid the dark color. She purses her lips, unsure of what to say.
“Are you doing okay?” Valentine asks her. The calm tone of her voice barely changes as she speaks.
“I’m alright…” Brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear, Sumi unconsciously averts her gaze. “Just been a bit busy.”
“Understandable. Running a business all on your own is not an easy job. I could never do that.”
“Oh, you… It’s not as great as you make it sound.” Sumi smiles faintly, almost sheepish. “It’s just a little flower shop.”
“And a precious one at that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have taken such good care of it all this time.”
When Sumi looks up, Valentine’s smile greets her. The smile is genuine, so genuine that it pricks at her heart for a reason Sumi cannot explain. Her hands clench on her knees, clutching at the fabric of her skirt.
“...I mean, I’m the only one who can take care of it now.” Still, she tries to maintain her smile. “I can’t bring myself to let it fall to ruin — or sell it away, for that matter.”
“Of course not! I would’ve done the same if I were you,” says Valentine. She casts a look at the interior of the shop visible from the garden. “I can’t even imagine this place without you in it. You and this flower shop… You are a part of each other. There’s no taking this place away from you, and the opposite is also true.”
And still she demands no explanation from her, and neither does she press on the unspoken matter between them. The more they sit together like this, the more Sumi cannot stand herself. Biting down on her lips, she looks up at Valentine at last.
“Valentine,” her voice trembles slightly. “I’m sorry…”
“For what?”
“For not responding to your messages. For rejecting all your invitations. For ignoring you all this week,” she says, feeling a lump in her throat. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to push you away or hide things from you. It’s just that I… I…”
“Well…” Valentine maintains a calm and composed face. “Everyone has issues they are dealing with. I don’t intend to force you to tell me everything if you’re not ready, or if you feel that it is something that I shouldn’t know.”
She taps her fingers on the table.
“That said…” She returns Sumi’s gaze. “I do have one question I’d like to ask you, if you don’t mind.”
Sumi shakes her head.
“What is it?”
“What do you truly wish for?”
The question takes Sumi aback.
For all her reflection and pondering, she keeps questioning herself, whether she is doing the right thing, whether she has the right to do certain things. The memories she once saw as merely pieces and fragments of the past have grown into stories she couldn’t possibly brush aside. The bloom residing in her heart continues to call for her to share these stories. The melodies have come to her, and she has been humming those wordless tunes before she even realizes the growth inside of her. All she has to do is let it out, sing it out — and yet she is afraid to take exactly that one last step forward.
But there stands Valentine, the bearer of another bloom just like her, whose heart and voice have resonated with hers since the moment they locked eyes on the street that night. All this time, Sumi was afraid Valentine would ask her a lot of questions, that she would have no choice but to confront the core of her anxiety if she were to speak of this matter with Valentine.
As it turns out, she doesn’t even have to explain anything to her.
Valentine understands her struggles. She did not come here to tell her to move forward or take her time. She only wants to know what it is that she — Sumi herself — really wants.
Sumi can feel the rims of her eyes becoming hot. She doesn’t even know why she is feeling this way.
“I…” She stammers through her words. “I want to understand what’s happening to me. I want to understand what meaning these memories hold, what they are trying to tell me by showing me all of this.”
Slowly, she places her journal on the table, allowing Valentine to see the last page she has written.
[Memories]
[Convey or preserve]
“But I don’t know what to do…” Sumi’s voice falters. “I want to share these memories with everyone, but how can I do that? If I turn them into songs, does that mean I’m preserving these memories, or am I changing them to fit myself? Am I even allowed to do that?”
Once she starts, all the words she’d kept in the back of her mind spill out like water surging from a broken dam.
Valentine does not interrupt her. She only sits quietly, listening to everything Sumi has to confess.
“I want to reach out to others…” Finally, she looks at Valentine, her lips pursed and her brows knitted. “Just like how you reached out to me when we met. Just like how our first song that night resonated with us and those around us.”
“So I can become stronger.”
She thought Valentine would look strangely at her. She thought Valentine would find her confession bewildering, that it was too much and that she needed time to process everything.
However, once she actually had a good look at the person sitting across from her, there were none of those scenarios playing between them.
Valentine wears a smile on her face, one that is calm and certain. With her voice softened, she nods and holds out her hand toward Sumi.
“And there you have it,” she says.
***
The sun sets on the horizon.
In this perpetually bustling city, the echoes of footsteps raining down upon the sidewalks are unending, the humming of engines on the roads never ceases, and myriads of voices from all walks of life are carried in the wind, reaching far and beyond.
There are precedents to everything. The present day is the result of countless choices and decisions from times bygone; the world as it seems now is shaped by the memories of those who have passed.
Likewise, the world today will become the foundation of the world in the future; the present landscape and the people will become memories for a time that has yet to come.
With a click, Sumi locks the door of the flower shop. She flips the [OPEN] sign to [CLOSED], and turns on her heels to join the people roaming the city’s sidewalk.
I was pulled by gentle light that seemed to draw me in
Bound by thread, that felt so fragile yet it felt so worn
And so the warmth began to bloom in the depths of my heart
Spinning gold, from the memories time gifted to me
[Memory]
Her steps are light as she crosses the road; the floral patterns on her dress seem to sway gently in the wind. She carries a pastel-colored bag over her shoulder; the color fits perfectly with the soft color of her dress.
Cars and people pass by her. In a city as big as this, it is no longer strange to see people rushing through the crowd, bound by endless duties and responsibilities. To them, perhaps the golden sunset is no more than a daily recurrence, the billowing clouds and sparkling sky unworthy of their time to be spared a glance.
But the beautiful landscape won’t become any less beautiful even if people stop admiring it. If the people living here is too exhausted to remember the world that allows them to be, then she will be the one to remind them of it.
I give my heart to you
To this world that I love
Thank you - so
The stars all sing for you
And I offer this bloom
Sumi gets on a bus and sits by the window.
Around her, conversation and silence split the atmosphere in two. Half of the people are speaking with each other: a group of students still in uniforms, elderly people returning from their afternoon stroll, strangers who just met yet struck a chemistry with each other. The other half remains seated in place, earphones stuck in their ears, shutting themselves away from the environment.
The two sides look as if they are two worlds apart, but share the same space at the same time.
Sumi casts a look at her surroundings before returning her eyes to the view outside the window, keeping her smile to herself.
Whether it be fate, or what you call destiny, I want you to shine brightly
There’s joy in preserving delicate smiles like comets from fading to dust
I’m still reaching out, I keep reaching further, I know that I can grow stronger
Even when I cry, I pray my tears become song, in a beautiful melody
The trip was quick and short.
Sumi hops out of the bus — rarely does she ever do so. She, too, thinks that it is unlike her usual self. But that little hop is a satisfying one, nonetheless. Though the steps that come next are calm and clear as usual, she does not regret having made that jump.
The hem of her skirt brushes against her ankles. Once again, the golden sunset showers upon her, and Sumi’s red hair looks as if it is about to melt into the color of the sky.
She looks ahead, never turning back.
Her destination is right around the corner.
In this dazzling moment where colors gleam,
Let it hold my tears that once fell unseen
Even though the rain still falls, the dawn begins to rise
Still, they turn, the gears of time refuse to fall asleep
And even when I feel the doubt, I will not run away
Soaked in all my unseen wounds, I rise and start to dry
A small studio stands before her, its door unlocked.
Sumi turns the knob and steps in with familiarity, though it feels as if it’s been so long since she last saw this place.
The doormat, the little flower vase at the side, the carpet stretching from the entrance — How strange it is that such a simple view can give her so much nostalgia?
And even more nostalgic is the wordless tune drifting out of the studio inside. It is faint and muffled behind the closed door, but even from the little sounds she can hear, Sumi can feel her heart warming.
She heads in the direction of the music.
Gradually
The wish that lives in you
And everything you dreamed, I will make it all come true just for you
And I'll watch you bloom
“You’re finally here.”
The little studio remains unchanged, and so does the person waiting for her there.
Valentine’s smile greets her arrival. She has a microphone in her hand; next to her is the new audio speaker that she told Sumi about in her message a little while back. She’s been humming a wordless melody, without a doubt, an unfinished song in the making — or perhaps just a random string of notes to test the new speaker.
When their eyes meet, Sumi feels an indescribable wave of emotions coming over her, then settling down soon after.
Valentine’s presence pulls her in. But at the same time, it calms her down — as if telling her that it is alright to take her time, that she can move step by step, following the pace that works best for her.
Whether it be fate, or what you call destiny, please keep on moving on
Even when we say bye, I hope that your story continues with genuine ease
I know when I sing about how bright life can be, I fear that it won’t reach you
Some will fade away still, it hurts knowing that some won’t feel the warmth of an embrace
“I’m here.”
Sumi returns her smile.
She puts her bag on a chair, and her journal on the table. When she opens the book, the previously empty pages have been filled to the brim.
Words and sketches — Her writing isn’t as neat as it usually is, but her passion radiates through every line inked on the paper.
Three words are written and underlined at the top.
When Valentine leans over to take a look, she can read it clearly.
[“Sing My Pleasure.”]
Take a breath, close your eyes, and trust in me
That your dreams are safe, I’ll hold them tenderly
Ah… Yeah… Blossom gently…
“Looks like you’ve decided,” she says, looking pleased. “Does the dream no longer bother you?”
“I still see them when I go to sleep.” Sumi brushes her hair back behind her ear. “And I still don’t understand everything. But I want to try.”
The ever-unchanging lake. The unfurling petals.
They still visit her whenever she closes her eyes. The people coming and going, smiling and crying — All of them, the emotions they left unsaid, cradle her through the dream every night like an invisible stream, leading back to the same lake, the same flower.
I plead that you’ll always feel warmth in your heart
I hope you know I’ll lead with a bright smile for you
Even if you feel sorrowful today, let me promise you
I’ll be there for you now
So please…
“Alright, then. The stage is yours.” Valentine steps aside, with an exaggerated gesture making way for her.
The microphone stand is at the center of the little studio. Although there are only the two of them there, there will be no taking back the words and song she has let the world hear.
Sumi remains standing where she is, looking at the mic stand, then at Valentine next to her.
“Will you listen to my song until the end?” she asks.
To her question, Valentine holds out the microphone she’s been holding.
Stay as you are, keep on shimmering and blooming so beautifully
There’s warmth in embracing your delicate smiles like comets from fading to dust
I’m still reaching out, I keep reaching further, I know that you can grow stronger
Even when you cry, I pray your tears become song, it’s a beautiful melody
“That’s why I’m here.” She gives the mic to Sumi. “Go on. Don’t hold anything back.”
Their fingers brush against each other when Sumi takes the mic from Valentine’s hand. During that brief moment, the blooms residing inside of them — the “Memory” and the “Longing” — resonate upon feeling the other’s presence.
Sumi holds the mic close to her. Stepping forward, she places it on the stand.
Everything is now set. Sumi closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
“It’s okay if I don’t understand everything yet.”
All the memories entrusted to her — Is she preserving them, or is she changing them? Until now, Sumi still doesn’t have an answer. But she knows they will stay with her. They aren’t there to dictate what she can and cannot do. Whatever she does, they will continue to live on.
“But I will become stronger, so that I can share these stories with the world.”
Just like the memories of her beloved ones.
Take my hand, close your eyes, and trust in me
That your dreams are safe, I’ll hold them tenderly
So she opens her eyes and sings.
For the buds of memories living through her, for the longing that accompanies her through this journey.
The fragment of Lunarelia in her heart will bloom to its fullest.
