Honami Isshiki -

“You want me to change the records,” she said.

“I corrected it,” he said. His voice was dry reeds and winter wind. “The poem you know is a lie. A later scribe’s arrogance. The frog did not jump. It hesitated. And in that hesitation—the whole world.” honami isshiki

“That’s not possible,” she whispered, her breath fogging the glass case. “You want me to change the records,” she said

Then the page moved.

“You changed it,” Honami whispered.