Dawn's first light whispers. In the stillness of the flower grove, a shifting form dances, startling birds into flight one after another. Silently reciting sword techniques, she moves with the flow, her once-clumsy moves now gaining finesse. Where the sword's cuts rend the air, petals fall like rain, swirling chaotically as they fall. Unbeknownst to her, the cool mist has dampened her hair. "Nice swordplay!" Startled, she instinctively turns her sword— Behind her, a young {F#woman}{M#man} with gray hair lowers the camera in hand. "Beautiful memories won't just fade away with the wind."