"That child said that."
The old man pursed his lips.
The old woman: ...
"You even said 'mm'..."
"...So I'm not even half a fated person..."
The old woman's mind was somewhat—
No.
Very confused.
"This is too..."
The old woman covered her head.
She looked as if she were "overloaded."
"Too..."
The old woman took a deep breath.
"Too strange."
"Too strange..."
The old woman kept muttering under her breath.
Everything she had ever known told her that what the old man had said couldn't be true.
But...
The old man had sounded sincere.
There had been no sign of joking or deception.
She couldn't help but believe, just a little, that the absurd thing the old man had described... was real.
"Do you believe it?"
The old woman couldn't help asking the old man again.
"I don't know..."
The old man smiled bitterly.
"I don't want to believe it..."
"But..."
His own experience had left him confused.
The old woman fell silent.
She understood the old man's dilemma.
Because she was just as conflicted.
"...Forget it."
The old man shook his head.
"Don't think about it anymore."
"Huh?"
The old woman looked at the old man.
Don't think about it anymore...
"Mm."
The old man tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"That child was right."
"I don't need to dwell on it."
"Because I won't ever run into that pipa-playing fellow again."
"What's the point of thinking about it?"
"Huh?"
The old woman froze for a moment.
He wouldn't... run into it again?
"It... left?"
The old woman asked hesitantly.
"Yeah."
The old man couldn't help glancing around the balcony.
"Otherwise, why would I have come out to the balcony today?"
It was only because he