In a dark corner, a match lay still. With a hot heart, it has been silently loving a cigarette all its life.

Matches are eager to embrace with cigarettes, bring light and warmth to it, and let cigarettes shine in their arms. However, fate played a joke, and the lighter appeared and easily replaced the position of the match.

Match's heartbreak became countless pieces, its love turned into a bubble. But it was still watching, watching for the cigarette that had once haunted it.

Despite being replaced, the love of matches never died. It understands that love is not necessarily a possession, perhaps just a silent blessing. Even if it is scarred, it will retain that pure and deep love in the depths of memory.