A rain of osmanthus flowers fell with that gust of wind.
One of the osmanthus flowers landed on Wen Yu's hair.
Wen Yu plucked the osmanthus flower from her hair and realized that there were subtle markings on the petals.
Although the flower had fallen from the tree, it still bore the markings of the tree's growth.
Wen Yu looked between the flower and the paper-elemental source-type item in her hand. A dream took root in Wen Yu's mind.
"If only I could become a white paper engraved with all the memories of you and Sky City," murmured Wen Yu.
Wen Yu spoke under her breath, and the wind was still whistling. Perhaps only the Cinnabar Sweet Osmanthus caught what she said.
"If I could become paper, my front side would display proclamations while the back would be full of secrets."
This time, Wen Yu spoke louder. Before her words could sink in, she entered into a trance.
