Work Text:
Sayori picked up the pen and began to write
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"My Basket of Flowers
I walk along life’s road at my own pace, carrying my beautiful basket of flowers.
I walk with the uncertainty of not knowing when this road will end, with the fear of not knowing if a meteor of misfortune will strike, bringing this journey to an early end without warning.
With every step I take, I regret the way I took the previous step, and by the time I think about it, I have already taken a step that I will regret in a future — that will become the present and then the past.
Flowers grow along this road, flowers that I pick and place in my basket.
Some are ugly and undesirable, but even so I can’t bring myself to throw them away, others barely withstand the test of time, already faded.
I don’t remember if they were red or blue, I only know that they exist and vaguely what they represented.
In this basket there are flowers of all shapes and emotions. Some I accidentally dropped.
It’s one flower per step and a tiny basket compared to that.
I can’t blame myself, but I can’t help but, once again, regret those I lost.
My basket is beautiful, but it can become even more beautiful.
One step at a time, I will decorate it more and more.
When this road ends, they will be the decoration at my funeral, my departure.
They will be flowers that fly to other paths, to other people.
Flowers that one day, just like me, will disappear from this world."