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𖣦 𝓕𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑵, 𝑰.
Allegory of The old portal.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ĭɞ


𝓣hey, are gleefully have a home. So, where is he belongs to? 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂 𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒂, alone. His fragile feets keep itinerant and striding around the foggy forest. Lugubrious mind is lugging him to the quaint lake, full of memories.

𝓗is tears fell down, zephyr dancing along withal his blonde hair. His luminous face is tremendously perfect, streaked by 𝐋𝐚 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐞. He smiles, be grateful of what he has now. Though, he only has himself at the end.

𝓣hen, now what? He stares at those white feathers beneath the serene lake. 𝒜 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑝𝘩𝑖𝑐 𝑤𝘩𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑎𝑛. Obstreperous sounds fills his ears, soft whispers from no one.


⠀⠀Drown here, right now.
⠀⠀You have no soul, no home.
⠀⠀Jump to the lake, Fuji.
⠀⠀Ours is your home, jump!


𝓗e was lulled by those subtle whispers. Drowsily, his eyes closed and come nearer to the shore of the lake. But, who is gonna help him?


⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚘﹆˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙ ⚘﹆
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒯𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝘩𝑜𝑤 𝘩𝑎𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑛

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