Introduction

Shick, shick, shick…

In the dead of night, a gardener wields a sharp-pointed shovel, digging into the earth one scoop at a time. The black shovel’s tip has worn away its lacquer, now glinting with the moon’s pale light—a flickering spark in the darkness.

Whether it’s because the day was too hectic or the night too idle, this gardener prefers planting flowers under the cover of darkness. His shoveling is practiced and swift; soon, a pit takes shape. He sets the shovel aside, reaches into a sack at his side, and tosses a generous handful of flower seeds into the hole.

“With so many seeds, at least one or two will sprout,” he says, satisfied, as he covers them with soil. In an instant, the cluster of seeds is swallowed by endless darkness. The seeds’ nightmare begins now.

The gardener only ever boasts of blooming flowers to show off his skill, never caring what the seeds endure beneath the earth. Only the lucky ones sprout and blossom. Many more, the unlucky, never germinate, forever buried in darkness, never to see the light.

This story tells the tale of one such seed.