again you run away from your house from your parents. again you don’t want to hear them quarrel or scold you.

you run. run, run. through the forest, through tears. and finally, you come running to the flower field, exhausted.

but you see there a boy with indigo hair - he was collecting flowers. maybe he also ran away from his parents?

"—who are you?" the boy noticed you and turned around. he looked a little upset and angry, but still asked you. "—I'm scaramouche, if you care."