Cermin was still so happily picking flowers in a field with Ronin, when a dark cloud loomed overhead.
"Oh, it's going to rain?" He said with a frown. "But we just started picking up daffodils right now."
"We can pick them later. For now, we need to keep shade, Your Highness." Ronin told him, and they went under the tree for shade.
Cermin followed after him, still clutching daffodils tightly to his chest as he went to sit there.
He thought this was supposed to be his perfect life with perfect Ronin. But why would it rain? Shouldn't it stay sunny all the time if everything had to be perfect?
"Oh, look. This is the tree where we etched out names under an umbrella." Ronin said.
"Our names? I don't remember doing that—"
His body immediately stiffened when he saw the words etched on the tree.
They were not in the Latin alphabet at all, spelled with 'Cermin and Ronin'.
They were Chinese characters. Written under a drawing of an umbrella.