It's early December, and Christmas Eve decorations brighten every corner, pushing away despair and lifting heavy hearts. But there's one person whose mind is focused elsewhere. He lost his closest friend, and happiness has eluded him since. He visits the cemetery daily, haunted by the promise his friend made: "I'll come back at sunset." The sunset that once brightened his face now brings tears down his cheeks. His friend's luminous expression lingers in his mind, still smiling warmly. His face pales as he looks at the other graves, each adorned with flowers like crowns. Only one grave stays bare—the grave of his departed friend, who had only him to rely on. Seeing all the flowers, he remembers that he never gave a gift to his mate. A sob escapes his lips. He clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms as the thought gnaws at him—Why? Why couldn't I show my gratitude while he was still alive? The thought circles his mind before he screams it aloud. He isn't alone in the cemetery. An old sits nearby, he hears man cry and says: "Losing a loved one is hard, isn't it? I had the same question. Why can't we show how much we love each other? There's an imbalance. All these flowers are for the dead. When was the last time you gave a flower to someone? Never? I thought so. It shows that regret is stronger than gratitude, just as pain outlasts happiness. That's why it's easier to be bad than to be good. Do you know what's harder? Staying good with all these disappointments." The young man wonders what memories haunt him. What has he been through to speak with such sorrow? The words sink deep, echoing the pain of his own state. Leaving the cemetery, the weight of his grief drags behind him. The world outside moves on—laughter, decorations, twinkling lights—but he feels like a ghost. He had forgotten about the holiday. Seeing people pass by with happy expressions, he feels like his place is elsewhere. The young man continues through the busy streets until a caroler girl notices his mood. "Hey, mister, what's wrong? You look sad; cheer up! These are happy days to be alive!” she says. He stops, drawn from his thoughts by her warm smile. It reminds him of his friend's smile. He looks up but doesn't respond. Everything around him slows—the sounds of the street, the jingling of bells—fading into a distant hum. He hesitates, but she waits. Finally, he speaks: "My friend," his voice low, "he passed away today…” He pauses, tears in his eyes, “it feels like the world just stopped, like everything I knew, suddenly gone." The caroler girl looks at him with understanding in her eyes. She sympathizes and speaks: "I understand. My mother passed away years ago. We were very close. When she passed, a hole formed in my chest. But thanks to my brother, I pulled through. Mister, they're never truly gone—not as long as we remember them!" He listens, her warmth sparking hope. He looks at her before speaking softly: “I'm sorry for your loss. It must be hard. And thank you for mentioning her name—it eases my pain." He suddenly remembers his friend's secret: lilies. Why didn't that come to mind sooner? No, this isn't the time for regret, not again. He turns to her, his voice steadier now: "I think I know what to do. Do you know where I can find lilies?” The girl, amused by his change in demeanor, responds, “Lily flowers? There's a shop about 100 meters from here." The guy takes in this information before going off in the direction of the shop. The girl just stands there for a moment, not knowing what to make of this, but it feels like everything is for the good, and that is all she has to know! As the guy approaches the shop, he senses the atmosphere change around him, various flowers lounging around, facing the warm rays of sunlight. There they are, lily flowers, standing like delicate sentinels in the corner of the flower shop… He goes back to the cemetery after buying the flowers and finally places them on the grave. ”All kinds of things can happen in life. Losses are common for everyone, but we must move on. Because if we stop, we will be disrespecting our friend's memories. Their life deserves to be honored by carrying forward what they taught us and the love they gave." His friend once said these words. He'd forgotten them, but now, the caroler girl's warmth has reminded him. Her smile and enthusiasm awakened the will his friend left him. He looks at the name carved in stone and wonders: “How disappointed would he be if he saw me like this?” Looking up, his gaze falls on the sunset, and for the first time, it no longer feels like a cruel reminder. It feels like a promise. His desperation to bring his friend back had only kept the soul in unresolved sorrow. But the young man's realization freed the soul, allowing it to pass peacefully into the pure lands. As the lilies sway in the breeze, sunlight breaks through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the grave.