September is already on the horizon.
In the late summer, the leaves of the trees seemed as if freshly washed, spotless and shining.
In the backyard of the Furukawa Conference Hall, Kitagawa Ryoko walked through the corridor and saw Yukino Ritsuko had moved a chair under the trellis to paint. On the trellis over the pond, the wisteria flowers formed a purple waterfall, as if a velvety cloth adorned with violet flower patterns had been draped over it.
The sun shone brightly, with orioles fluttering and grass growing long.
A woman as beautiful as snow gently lowered her head, lost in her own thoughts. Among the blooming purple flower bushes in the courtyard, that silhouette exuded an indescribable solitude.
Kitagawa Ryoko tiptoed over, wearing her wooden clogs.
"Ah, why didn't you make a sound?" Yukino Ritsuko seemed startled, shrugged her shoulders, and then closed her sketchbook.
"Hey, is Sister Yukino painting?" Kitagawa Ryoko asked with a smile.
