Fujiwara sat alone on the edge of the dirt. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

Her long pale hair was scattered, and her eyes were stagnant.

Ahead, the wind stops and the clouds are sparse, and the mountains and lakes are quiet.

There is no birdsong, no insect sound, and the fish spit slightly, but it is just like a whisper.

He sat alone.

Losing the back that is erect because of arrogance, like a dead tree that has been dead for many years, and like the stagnant time of old age.

The two low hills and the small lake were now his own world.

The still, eternal, unchanging landscape made his fear-filled mind feel a little calm.

"The gray hair is withered and old, and the white beard hangs."

The lips, shriveled like a sponge that has lost too much water, open and close subtly, chanting, low, almost silent poetry.

should be in harmony with the silent world.

For him.

The dwarf mountain resembles the creeping body of a giant beast. The narrow lake is like a giant mouth swallowed by Kunpeng.

In the eyes of Bubi, they were big enough—big enough to keep everything out, to only allow his soul to enter and exit.

"Click, click!"

Behind him, there was the sound of undisguised footsteps. Because of this sudden startle, the thin body of the incomparable was inevitably trembling.

"Sir." The samurai behind him bowed his head and bowed, his voice not losing his respect for the unequal behavior.

"You ......," Bu Bei's voice was weak and hoarse, "you see, see me trembling with fear, right?" ”

"Yes, sir!" The samurai replied scrupulously, his flat voice inaudible to any emotion.

"So, do you know what I'm afraid of?"

"I don't know, sir!"

"Hey, hey, hey, hahaha......" sneered in a low voice, as if gasping, shaking his white hair, and his thin body trembled violently with his wide clothes, "Of course you don't know...... Yes, how would you know? How can you know? ”

He muttered for a moment as if nervous, and then looked at the lake in silence, and in the clear water, which was as cold as a mirror, he saw his shriveled sleeves, his old and pale countenance, and the gray hair that heralded death.

"There's always mud under the clarity. It's like the water of this lake. He spoke without warning, but his only audience, the samurai, did not react.

"Have you seen what you look like? Through this lake, through this mirror, looking at your own appearance, looking at those ugly lines, and that desperate look, hehaha...... This man's body has been separated from his soul! ”

"Sir, it's time for you to dine."

"You, do you know what I'm afraid of?" Ignoring the samurai's thoughts, Fujiwara seemed to be asking, and it seemed to be just pure self-talk.

"Hmm...... Wait, I hear you, your heart beating faster, your breathing heavier. Hey haha...... Are you afraid of me? Are you afraid of me? Why, why, why would you be afraid of such a frail old man? With his back to the samurai, he chattered endlessly.

"I'll tell you! Now I am no longer afraid of death, and the humiliation in the terrible rainstorm can no longer make me tremble! This is all the function of thinking, and the closer you get to death, the more you love to think. Hehaha, the spark of thought that blooms in that dark abyss, how interesting this thing is! How beneficial it is to humanity! So, samurai, what am I afraid of? He didn't mean to turn around, and he commanded in a hoarse tone, "Tell me, come and tell me!" I thought, you should come here! Yes, please stand by my side. ”

Fear arose in his heart because of his incomprehension, but he could not disobey Fujiwara's orders. The samurai stiffened and came to the side of the non-waiting. Standing by the lake with the strange old man, he fell into a brief trance uncontrollably.

"Yes, yes, just like this lake, there is always clarity under the turbidity." He sighed inexplicably, his intently focused gaze as if he had forgotten, ignoring the samurai standing on one side.

He looked at the strange person reflected in the water, and watched the rickety shadow being illuminated clearly, as if he had suddenly returned to his childhood.

He was to be like a puppet, drawn by the thread, and not allowed any other desire than the one of mission.

He had to endure the cold. He was going to endure hunger. He was going to endure pain. He will cut off all other fears and obey the fate of their family.

Taking away the power of the emperor is the extremely greedy ambition of the Fujiwara family.

It was only when he exercised such a desire that he felt that air of freedom. Imprisoned in the darkness of confinement, bound in the forest of fear, he longed for such pleasure of freedom. Even if it was a hellfire red sky, so what? He's right! He is always right, because when he makes a mistake, it is also his time of death.

So, why? His body trembled with fear, and his eyes were dry and painful, as if a rock was about to tear the eye mask and squeeze it out of his body.

"I ...... Maybe dead! When he finally moved, he grinned and turned to look at the stiff samurai, "Do you say, samurai?" ”

The samurai didn't know how to answer, he could only remain silent.

"You've found out, too! You get the idea! What am I afraid of? What am I, a dead man, afraid of? Bubi waited for another trembling body, "This terrible self, this terrible devil!" Fear, fear, fear! This uncontrolled heart!! ”

It's not much repentance, it's just pure fear.

As if enough had been said, Bubi turned his head back and continued to look at the dead mountains and waters.

"The Walking Dead, gradually destroyed."

As if sighing, he chanted inarticulately.

Bubi continued: "Samurai, my daughter Fujiwara Meihong, do you know? ”

"Sir, she has wanted to see you many times, but she has refused as you say."

"Really? Does she want to see me? So, let her come! I should see her, I should, see her. After a moment of silence, when he spoke again, Bubi had already given the order to expel the guest, "Samurai, you can go, go!" Let's go! ”

The samurai bowed, packed up his belongings, and retreated. He already understood that the master probably wouldn't use this meal.

"The scorching midsummer sun is dazzling."

From a distance, I watched the gray-haired old man bow his head and mutter. The samurai couldn't help but shake his head.

"Only that's left—

Gossamer breathes. ”

“…… Whose verse is this? ”

(The poem in this film is seen in "Tokyo Mew", which is a poem by Kitahara Hakuaki, because I think it is very good, so I excerpted a little.) ）