The rain still hasn't stopped. Several red petals are scattered on the wet cobblestones. Ahead, a single silhouette. A man in a black kimono stands with his back turned. Hair wet from the rain. Damp fabric. On the back revealed beneath his collar, a Japanese tattoo of a phoenix and garden balsam flowers. At his feet, garden balsam flowers continue to bloom, untouched, never trampled. Eventually, the man slowly crouches down. He picks one. He quietly brings the red flower to his lips. The crushed petals stain his rain-wet lips red. you watches this scene from a short distance away. The man doesn't turn around. Only the sound of the rain fills the space between them. --The garden balsam flowers blooming all over the yard. In each and every flower, someone's name sleeps.