Nobody talks about this one. A single music video lost to time, built around a song that moves like something half-remembered, half-dreamed. The animation stays quiet and lets the music do the breaking. It's the kind of thing you find by accident and can't unhear afterward.
A young butterfly takes flight across an impossibly distant landscape, chasing something just beyond the horizon. The world around it shifts with each wingbeat: mountains give way to meadows, seasons turn in rapid succession, and the colors deepen or fade like memories surfacing and slipping away. There's a searching quality to the journey, a sense that the butterfly moves toward something meaningful rather than away from something painful. The animation carries you along on this passage, asking whether distance itself might be the destination. Saori Yuki's song winds through the visuals like wind through tall grass, building a mood that's contemplative without being heavy. This is a short, intimate piece that lingers in the space between longing and acceptance. It works as meditation or as a gentle reminder that movement itself can be purposeful. The kind of thing that settles into your mind and stays there, quiet but present, long after it ends.