Various passersby strolled along the streets, with neon lights illuminating the Shinjuku District, creating a night as bright as day.
On the street, a cold wind blew, and beneath this not-so-lush beech tree, Uesugi Sakura watched her little nose looking forlorn, gently placing a hand on her delicate shoulder, slowly embracing her fragile body.
Letting her head rest on his shoulder, breathing in the fragrance emanating from her hair and neck, he closed his eyes and whispered to her:
"Little Hanabi is very cute, her crying makes one want to protect her, she eats quietly, and whenever she listens to stories, she sits obediently on the stool, patiently listening to every sentence, every word."
The gentle, slow-spoken words softly brought Hanamaru Hanabi back to that past time.
"But, no one really likes that Hanabi...
