The flowers are falling, falling lightly
The trees are rustling, rustling gently
Intoxicated with the faint smell of the flowers,
I will sleep in the rustling as if it were a lullaby
He wants to stay, stay here with her underneath the cherry blossom trees, where the petals flutter softly and the branches rustle of the peaceful life he thought he could have.
He was wrong, and duty called yet again, shattering his hopes.
The moon watches
The moonlight dims in the mist
We make a secret promise as it watches
I seal all my recollections in the dew
And leave it all this night
It hurts more than anything he's done so far in his life, which is saying something. He makes a promise with her as the moon watches on, unmerciful and glaring. When the mist arrives to dim it a little, he is grateful.
They promise to come back to each other.
They look at each other's faces once more, and their hands finally slip apart.
He turns away, knowing she is watching, and it breaks his heart.
I stretch my hand out only to miss his back
I pray for his peace only to become more anxious about him
Every dream she's had since they left each other is disturbing.
He's just within reach, yet her fingers can never seem to touch him. He never looks back at her.
She worries, even as she herself travels on.
The moon turned, turned red
Lit up the place, I have to go
I shake off the lingering hesitation
And throw away my sword's sheathe
One night, they both look up and see a blood-red moon.
They each know what it means, though they are both far apart; that the other is watching, and waiting, and hoping.
On opposite sides of the universe, they draw their swords and toss away the sheathes.
The sooner they finish this, the sooner the pain will end.
I just let the faint lines I see
Melt into my foggy mind
I want to see you
Even though your heart is torn apart from sorrow and hatred
She can feel where he is, though she does not know exactly where.
She kneels by the road on which she is walking, by which thousands of white peonies grow. She knows that wherever he is, there are the same white flowers.
She touches one.
I call out your name
But you never reply to me
Your last look blames me,
Who cannot do anything for you
He, too, dreams of her. She, too, seems out of his reach. He calls her name.
She turns her back and stays silent.
One night, she turns and faces him, but the expression on her face is not one of joy at being reunited.
No, it is the look she gave him as he walked away.
He wakes, and looks around him, finds comfort in the white peonies that grow around him. He chose to sleep in a field of these flowers. No matter where he goes, he seems to always find them.
Or rather, they find him.
The flowers coloring, coloring red
Bloom fully everywhere I go
I will watch over you as a flower, at least
For I am not allowed to go with you
Before her eyes, the white flower she touches stains itself crimson, the color spreading from where her fingertips touched it.
That one flower seems to poison all the rest, and in a few moments, almost every white peony around her is red, and in full bloom.
Before his eyes, the white flowers that surround him turn themselves carnelian in the moonlight.
He knows what she has done, and he knows that she means to tell him that she cares,
That she is watching, that distance is no factor in their relationship.
He smiles.
He touches another flower, and hastens the process.
She sees the last few white peonies turn red, and knows that it worked.
The midnight moon dims in the faint clouds
The flowers are falling and fading away
Puzzled at the silver light (where is the red?)
We are falling down
But all too soon, they fall.
The moon itself hides its glow, as if mourning.
The red peonies that followed them wherever they went follow them to each of their demises as well.
They each see with failing eyes how the flowers around them wilt and die.
They both know what has happened.
As their sight dims, they see a flood of red suddenly coloring the sky.
The crimson petals have detached themselves from the dying flora, and they are flying through the air, stirred by the wind.
They each smile, and close their eyes.
The way colored, colored red
Opens up before me
I will follow you anywhere you go
Even if anything comes and stands in my way.
When they finally meet again, they are no longer apart.
They stand together on a red road, under a red moon, surrounded by red peonies that they know will never die.
In the end, they kept their promise.