[ Yi Sang tracks the movement of Hong Lu's finger, which guides his gaze to sweep across the ceiling. He stares, unblinking, searing the placement of the dots into his retinas. They do not swim aimlessly in his field of view, but instead, assemble into a single image.

He stares, contemplating the constellations. ]

I see -- I see a cliff with an unseen flower in full bloom. Invisible to my eyes, but I know it is there due to its fragrance. There, I see a grave too, dug by my bare hands where I can smell that flower. Perhaps I shall enter it. Perhaps I shall lie in it. Perhaps then, I shall forget about my inability to see that flower in these ceiling dots.

[ He stares, and now the dots do begin to swim. Yi Sang closes his eyes. In the darkness, it isn't difficult to imagine himself lying within the ceiling's grave.

But here he is, lying outside of that grave at the foot of the cliff. ]