The Moonlit Koto’s Whisper
On the veranda draped in cherry blossoms, her fingers glided across the strings of the koto. Each note shimmered like droplets of moonlight falling upon the water, weaving a song that seemed older than the castle itself.
The lake mirrored both the lanterns and the rising moon, carrying her melody across the still surface. Even the petals paused mid-air, as though the world wished to linger within her music.
Her eyes held both mischief and sorrow, for the song was not simply performance—it was memory. Every chord carried the echo of promises made beneath the same blossoms, vows that had long since faded into the night.
Yet she played on, smiling faintly, as if daring the moon to remember with her. For as long as the strings answered her touch, the past would not be forgotten, and beauty would always return in spring.
 
月下の琴の囁き
桜に包まれた縁側で、彼女の指は琴の弦を静かに渡っていく。その音色は月光の雫のように湖へと零れ、城より古き調べを紡ぎ出した。
湖面は灯籠と月を映し、その旋律を運んでいく。花びらでさえ舞いを止め、世界はその一瞬に酔いしれた。
その瞳には戯れと哀しみが宿る。これは演奏ではなく記憶。花の下で交わした誓いが、今は夜の闇に消えてしまったことを伝える歌。
それでも彼女は微笑みながら弾き続ける。月に挑むように。弦が応える限り、過去は消えず、美は春と共に必ず蘇るのだと。