Chrysanthemum.

Purple dusk bleeds across the sky, a canvas of fading light. The Chrysanthemum Railway stretches into the distance, a ribbon of steel and regret, disappearing into the hazy horizon of City 4. A lone figure stands on the platform, clutching a single white chrysanthemum, its petals whispering secrets to the wind. The train arrives, a mechanical groan echoing the ache in their heart. A final goodbye, a whispered promise, lost in the hiss of escaping steam. The train departs, leaving behind an empty platform and a lingering scent of loss. The chrysanthemum falls, a single tear against the cold steel, a silent testament to the farewells whispered on the wind.