A song drifted in, carried by the cold wind’s embrace— It matched the guitar I played in the music room steeped in twilight. It echoed the piano someone played in the room next door. And then, from the rooftop, a voice rang out. High and clear, like the chiming of bells, weaving the three scattered melodies into one. It all began in late autumn. When someone fell in love. We were all giving our everything. We were all pressing forward, driven by feelings we couldn't hold back. We were all earnest, unwavering, and honest. In that fleeting moment, our hearts were bound, and we created memories that could never be replaced. But because of that, someone fell in love. A love that came too late. A love that should never have been. Then came winter—covering all sins beneath the endless snow. Then came spring—laying judgment bare as the snow melted away.
