What is the definition of necessity?
There is one fact that no one recognizes. Do you, as you read this story, know what it is? Do you recognize it? Can you say that what you believe is true? Aren't all of these just illusions?
Can you distinguish it?
Everything in this world is made up of stories. Stories about being late today and accidentally putting on the wrong shoes, stories about meeting the love of your life, stories about running after your dreams...
What is your story? Is it a memory, a regret, or has it already been forgotten and can no longer be found? Humans cannot hold all their memories. Some memories can be forgotten, and some memories can never be forgotten.
But stories are different. They are written down in words, in sentences. If you record them, you can read them over and over again and remember them. That is the reason for the existence of stories, and their essence.
But what about other people's stories? Are they illusions or real stories? Can you tell the difference? Would you like to read them? Would you like to live your life remembering other people's stories?
This is the story of one person, a man who sets out to resolve his karma and who, by necessity, creates connections, and the story of an emperor who protects his people to the very end.
He was a man of pure love who had eyes for only one person, the eldest son of a family who loved his family. He loved cherry trees and dedicated his life to the sword. He was a revolutionary who stood up against a corrupt empire, and justice who destroyed evil.
This story is a tale told by countless storytellers, a myth of those who have rewritten the definition of the inevitable.
[The story begins with the fantasy song.]
"It's strange, my brother would point his sword at me."
"I couldn't imagine it. I didn't want to."
The sword in his right hand trembled. Tears like morning dew fell from his eyes, blood flowed from his clenched lip, blood flowed from his left leg, and from over his already torn left shoulder.
Cherry blossom petals flutter in the warm spring breeze, and the bodies of my friends lie on the ground, dead and horrific. There are no spectators. They all died along with these people. The only ones alive in this place now are me, the cherry tree, and you, standing before me.
I clenched my right hand tightly. I vowed to never let go of this sword, no matter what the circumstances, and looked at you before me. You, the one who had taken every life in this place, without even a scratch on it.
Is this really the end? Where did my comrades who were chatting away with laughter go? Where did my people, who were filled with so much support and enthusiasm, go?
I could hear the laughter of the head of the Moon family, with whom I often clashed. I could feel the warmth of the young head of the Ume family, whose values were similar to mine. Little by little, the wishes of my friends began to seep into me.
The people cheered me enthusiastically. The knights pledged their loyalty to this country. But all of that vanished in an instant. A single bloom destroyed everything. A single plum blossom stole my treasure.
Suppressing my anger, I approached you before me. You who betrayed your family and became a flower yourself. You who cut down a cherry tree and made your own plum blossom in its place. That was a sure betrayal. You were a traitor who had come to kill my own brother. My only younger brother.
"I'm tired of cherry trees. From now on, plum blossoms will bloom here."
"Finally, is there anything else you'd like to say?"
"Haha, that's the last one."
I took a deep breath and straightened my posture. I wondered if I had ever practiced anything longer than this sword technique. It felt like eating cold rice. I focused my wishes, my best friend's wishes, and the wishes of my comrades on the sword.
"My name is Park Jimin."
"I'm Park Jimin, head of the Bahia family and emperor of Fantasy Land."
This was the moment when the persistent fate of the Kaba family was finally broken.