"Holding the banner... taking charge of the great flag."
Bologue's gaze lowered as he murmured to himself. After a long pause, he slowly lifted his head. Maria remained seated in the dark as before, wearing a gentle smile.
"It doesn't sound easy."
Bologue exhaled deeply, a helpless smile on his face. "There's just too much to bear."
"This is your path," Maria gently guided, "a part of growth."
"Growth, huh?"
Bologue leaned back. He wasn't falling — there was something to catch him, just like before.
"I'm almost a hundred years old; I thought I'd grown enough," Bologue laughed. "Not many live to my age."
Growth is a word filled with youthful energy. Bologue had thought himself immune to such words, yet when Maria spoke it, assigning it once more to Bologue, he suddenly felt a sense of being transported to another world.
"Human growth is complex. There's the physical increase in age and the psychological growth. Clearly, Bologue, you are someone developmentally deficient."
