"We're all growing up. Along with the passing seasons . . . The flowers that bloom near the street change. I wonder what the name of the flower was that bloomed that one season . . . It was small, and fluttered slowly. It hurt when I touched it. When I put my nose up to it, it had the slight scent of somewhere sunny . . . But that scent it slowly fading away. We're all growing up. But . . . That flower is probably still blooming somewhere. Yup. And as for us . . . That flower has so many wishes . . . And we'll keep on granting them."

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