The park bathed in the golden glow of the sun’s warmth. Bees flitted from bloom to bloom while butterflies pirouetted through the air, weaving intricate patterns amidst the verdant foliage. In a corner garden in the park, Qu sat on a picnic blanket with Hari. The garden pulsated with life, each plant swaying in harmony with the delicate melody of nature’s symphony. As Qu reclined on the soft blanket, his gaze wandered to his other team members. 

Zakuro’s melodious voice intertwined effortlessly with the rustling of leaves and chirping of the bird. Mokuren meticulously rehearsed the intricate choreography of their upcoming performance, their body flowing like a river guided by the unseen currents of inspiration. Aogiri stood silently, his eyes alight with curiosity and admiration as he absorbed every nuance of Zakuro’s performance with rapt attention. Meanwhile, Kasumi observed Mokuren’s every step with focused determination. His keen eyes captured the essence of each movement as if etching them into the depths of his memory.

Qu’s gaze shifted from his team members to the surrounding greenery and blooms. Amidst the riots of colorful flowers, his golden eyes landed on a regal purple flower that swayed gently in the breeze. A soft smile tugged on Qu’s glossed lips as he studied the simple yet captivating blooms. The flowers’ beauty resonated with something deep within his soul, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on why. Unknown to the tall man, Hari had been studying the curious gleam in Qu’s eyes. 

“Do you know the name of that flower?” The green-haired man questioned in a whisper. Qu thought momentarily before gently shaking his head, admitting his ignorance with a humble shrug.

“The name Miyakowasure,” Hari began, in a serious but sympathetic voice, “originates from the story of the emperor Juntoku in the Kamakura period. After his defeat in the Jokyu War, the emperor was exiled to Saso Island. He loved Kyoto dearly and couldn’t bring himself to forget it. So, he sought solace in the beauty of this flower. Hence, the name “For the sake of forgetting Kyoto.”

Qu intently listened as Hari wove the narrative; his words vividly painted the monarch’s longing and resignation. The young man couldn’t fathom how heavily weighed down the emperor’s heart must have felt every time he remembered his beloved capital, Kyoto. The Miyakowasure flower must have truly caught the emperor’s attention with its delicate but simple appearance. How could one flower become a poignant symbol of the emperor’s desire to escape the shackles of nostalgia and forge a new path amidst the rugged landscapes of exile? Was there something more to the tale?

Regardless, Qu was moved by the story and felt a swell of empathy wash over him. The king’s spirit had shown true resilience in the face of adversity, but why did he feel a strange connection to the king? For a while, Qu closed his eyes, allowing the wind to tenderly caress his cheeks while the fragrance of the blossoms enveloped him like a comforting embrace. In that fleeting moment of tranquility amidst the whispers of a bygone era, Qu found himself lost in his own memories.

When the seeds are planted, the sensation can evoke discomfort.

“Mommy? Where are you? Don’t leave me.”

Qu stirred from his slumber with a whisper. The words hung in the air, laden with a palpable sense of longing and fear. His small form was cocooned in an embrace of silk sheets and plush pillows, and his large, tear-filled eyes scanned the bedroom until he saw Maica stirring from his slumber beside him.

“Qu? What’s wrong?” Maica’s soft and sleepy voice cut through the lingering words of fear, giving Qu a beacon of light in the darkness he had experienced in his dream. Reaching over, the pink-haired child patted his friend’s back. They were only children, but they understood each other, and the bond transcended that of blood ties; it was a bond forged by shared experience and unwavering brotherly love.

The discomfort intensifies as the shell fractures and the initial sprout emerges.

With a steely resolve born of necessity, Qu made the difficult decision to leave behind the comforts of Maica’s home, determined to carve out a path of his own making, free from the burden of dependency. Despite Maica’s protests, Qu embarked on a daunting journey, his heart heavy with the weight of newfound responsibility and the specter of uncertainty looming on the horizon. The luxuries of maids and butlers were now replaced by the harsh reality of survival in a society where every step was fraught with challenge and adversity.

Even then, Qu refused to back down and sought odd jobs wherever he could. In the middle of the relentless grind of daily toil, Qu could not shake the gnawing ache of homesickness that tugged at his heartstrings with each passing day. The contrast between his former life of privilege and the stark reality of his present circumstances weighed heavily upon Qu’s soul. And yet, despite the pain and hardship that overwhelmed him, Qu remained steadfast in his resolve. He was determined to prove his worth and forge a future that was uniquely his own.

As the sprout ascends, the pain intensifies; delicate stems emerge from Qu’s skin, a torment known only to the initiated. Tears betray him, nurturing the blooms of his inner anguish.

Qu navigated the dark waters of the drag industry, but the harsh glare of competition cast shadows on his dreams. The relentless grind of the job, coupled with cutthroat competition and unnecessary drama, weighed heavily on his spirit. Yet, amidst the glittering façade of sequins and stilettos, his true passion burned brightly, and he yearned to express himself beyond the confines of the ramp. But when Mokuren stormed out after a heated altercation with one of the other drag queens, a spark of hope ignited in Qu’s heart. Without hesitation, Qu followed Mokuren out of the shadow and onto a new but uncertain journey.

As the purple flower buds blossom along the stems, the cascade of tears only intensifies.

Joining Starless was a dream come true for Qu, an opportunity to express himself on stage through acting and dancing freely. However, as he delved deeper into this new chapter of his life, he quickly realized that things were far from normal within the confines of the theater’s glittering walls. From the moment he became a cast member, Qu was ensnared in a web of tension and pressure. Haseyama’s constant demands, insults, and threats of expulsion hung over Qu’s head like a dark cloud.

Then came the fans, a magnet of fervent fangirls and fanboys whose adoration sometimes bordered on obsession. Their antics range from harmless adulation to intrusive invasion of Qu’s personal space and private life. Their relentless pursuit of his attention only added to the mounting pressure that Qu struggled to navigate. As if that wasn’t enough, the tangled web of drama and conflict among the cast members was exhausting. Egos clashed, and tempers flared behind the scenes, with each member vying for their moment in the spotlight and an increase in their paycheck. Between this endless chaos, Qu was expected to maintain an intense work schedule, juggling rehearsals, performances, and floor and cleaning duties.

As the Miyakowasure flowers burst into bloom, the pain lingers relentlessly, refusing to dissipate. Qu’s tears mingle with the blossoms sprouting from his skin.

“I am creating a new team and want you to join it.”

Qu stood at a crossroads when Mokuren extended the offer to join a new team they planned to create. Despite his reservations and lingering guilt over leaving Team P, the prospect of forging a new path with Mokuren was tantalizing. Which was more important, to explore new possibilities or remain loyal to his former team? For once, Qu took a decision for himself, and with a leap of faith, he joined Mokuren to establish Team C. Their collaboration sparked a blaze of creativity and success that surpassed even their wildest dreams. Yet, Qu was plagued by a lingering sense of displacement. As days turned to weeks and weeks into months, Qu navigated the labyrinthine corridors of his own psyche, searching for answers to questions that seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand.

The simple act of raising your head instead of bowing it low can make all the difference.

Mokuren’s inclination to push them beyond their limits grew with each day. The hours were long, the demands relentless, and the pay meager at best. Some fans treated him as a possession rather than a human, and their demands encroached on his autonomy, while Haseyama constantly meddled in their affairs. Among the chaos of Starless, Qu found reassurance when he realized he was not alone through his struggles as his teammates were standing steadfastly by his side. Even though they didn’t share the same closeness as Team B, Mokuren, Hari, Kasumi, Zakuro, and Aogiri were sailing through the same storm in the same vessel alongside him.

Embrace your journey, acknowledging the past without dwelling on it, for that is the sole path to moving forward. 

Qu’s eyes fluttered open, their gleam reminiscent of gold shimmering in the sunlight as he fixed his gaze on the delicate Gymnaster Savatieri flowers. After a moment of contemplation, he turned his head to Hari.

“Somewhere in the king’s heart, he knew that he could never truly forget his beloved capital,” Qu softly said, his words measured and thoughtful. “That’s why the flower has the name of the very thing the king wanted to escape from – Kyoto. I am no one to look back on history and judge a king. But maybe if the king had embraced his past rather than constantly trying to forget it, the burden of his pain would have been lighter.”