Once upon a time there was a man who died. The man had the power to make stories come true, so his hands were cut off by the people, who were afraid of tragedies becoming reality. When the man died, the people heaved a great sigh of relief. As it turned out, however, when his hands were cut off, the man had been writing a story in his own blood. That was a story he could continue spinning even after he died – a story of the man himself.
Once upon a time there was a man who died. The story the man wrote was about a happy Prince who loved everyone and was loved by everyone. The people fought, each wanting him to love them and them alone, and an evil Raven pecked at the loving hearts of one person after another. The more the Prince loved them and tried to save them, the more the people’s love just fed the Raven. In the end, the Raven thought, “I’d like to try the Prince’s heart, the most delicious one of all.”
Once upon a time there was a princess who was held captive. She was imprisoned in the demon king’s castle, her freedom taken from her. The princess had no choice but to dance like a puppet to the tune set by the whim of her sadistic captor. One day, a hero came to fight the demon king, seeking to save the princess. However, there was no way the hero could obtain the victory, for you see, the hero did not know that he himself was a puppet that the demon king had created.
Once upon a time there was a princess raised by loving parents. One day the princess snuck past the guard at the gate and slipped out of the castle for the very first time. No matter how far she went, however, outside the castle there was only an endless forest as black as pitch. In that kingdom, the inside of the castle was the entire world.
Once upon a time there was a man who died. All the stories the man spun came true, so the king, the nobility, and the kingdom’s rich all went to him to get him to write them stories. But when they saw their wishes granted, stark terror of his power seized them, and they began to abhor him. When the man finally died, the people rejoiced that this wellspring of misfortune had dried up. No one heard the echoing sound of the man’s scornful laughter.
The fight between the Prince and the Raven is being fought with fiercer and fiercer and desperation – in a place where no one can see.
Once upon a time there was a maiden in love. “I want to tell my beloved how I feel, but my love might be over the moment I confess it.” Eventually she died, without ever having been able to communicate her feelings. But the man she loved married another woman, and lived happily ever after, without having the slightest inkling that she had ever existed.