There once lived a young man who was very lonely. He had many friends and a family who lived not too far away, but it seemed that all around him everyone had someone close to their heart, someone with whom they would spend the rest of their lives with. But he had no such person in his life.

One winter evening after a drinking party with his friends, the young man accidentally stumbled onto a path he had never taken before. Through the dark he went, following the light of the half-moon. He did not question the path until he found himself in a valley he had never seen before.

It was a sobering experience to see in this valley a flower garden filled with beautiful blossoms. Winter peonies bloomed in many shades of pink. At their roots was tucked dry straw to keep them warm. Likewise, small straw roofs sheltered each bush to protect it from falling snow. 

The young man walked through this mysterious garden, thinking to himself that he must've stepped foot into a mythical world. 

"Who's there?" a voice croaked. The young man turned toward the end of the garden where a small wooden hut with a gabled roof stood. Out front holding a small basket on her arm was an old woman. 

"Good evening, Obaasan," the young man greeted politely. "I'm from the village, but I've never been here before." He had not even known a place like this could exist. Strange that he had lived in the village his whole life and not known of this place.

The old woman laughed, showing a smile of missing teeth. "Come closer," she said. "My old eyes can't see in this half-moon light."

Hesitant at first, the young man edged toward her. He stopped short three paces away, just enough for the old woman to gage what he looked like up close. When she looked him over she smiled, her eyes soft to their depths.

"I know just what you need," she said. "Would you care to bring one home with you?" she gestured to the peonies.

The young man shook his head quickly. "Oh no! I could never!"

But the old woman insisted, "It's nothing. I grow these lovely flowers so that I may give them away. Please, come this way. I know one that will suit you perfectly."

The old woman led him over two rows right and down the third. She stopped in front of one of the many bushes covered in straw. Reaching into her basket, she produced a small knife which she used to clip a single peony from the plant.

Satisfied, the old woman put the knife back in her basket and handed the flower to the young man. He slowly accepted the flower, turning it between his fingers. In the faint moonlight it seemed a pale pink, its petals closed into a tight bud. 

"Put it in water when you get home," said the old woman. "When it blooms it'll be the most beautiful thing of all." And she hobbled back to her house. With nothing else to do, the young man thanked her and returned home. He found a cup and filled it with water, which he placed the single peony in. 

For a few days the young man watched over the peony. He changed the water once and a while, sometimes staring at it for hours on end. He couldn't fathom what the old woman was thinking, giving him a strange gift like this. Why had she given him a flower? Why had she given him just one? Did she not want to save these flowers for someone else, someone better than him?

The young man sighed. This beautiful flower had yet to bloom, almost like it knew it deserved better than him.

Not knowing what else to do, the young man changed the peony's water again. He went about his day and returned home to sleep.

The next morning, however, the peony bud seemed much bigger than before. The young man was baffled. How had it suddenly grown over night? Since the flower was now too big for the cup, he transferred it to a vase. 

In the mornings that followed the young man found that overnight the peony's bud seemed to grow exponentially. The pale pink petals ballooned larger and larger until one day it no longer fit in the house! The young man quickly moved the flower into a large barrel of water and moved it outside to the back garden. By now he suspected that the old woman he'd met was some kind of yokai. Was she a fox spirit playing a trick on him? He would have to wait and see.

One morning the young man found the peony to be big enough for him to sit on, and yet it still refused to bloom. The young man, though awed by its massive size, felt dejected. All this care and still the flower remained closed to him. What more did it want? 

The young man stepped forward and caressed one of the outer petals. It was very soft to the touch, and he wished with all his heart that the flower would show him its inner beauty.

As he thought of the wish, the petals began to unfurl. Stumbling back in surprise, the young man watched as layer upon layer of pink petals opened to reveal its centre.

The young man's mouth dropped open as the flower fully bloomed, but what shocked him the most was what the petals had been hiding this whole time.

A handsome man about his age lay curled upon the flower's yellow centre. This man was dressed in fine robes and he appeared to be sleeping. The young man found himself trembling. What in the world was this thing? Was this even human?

As if having heard his unspoken questions the man in the peony yawned and stretched. His eyes opened and found the young man staring wide-eyed at him. The peony-man chuckled lightly and stepped down from the flower. "The old hag said she'd found a place for me," the peony-man said.

The young man, still silent with shock, took a while to recover from what he'd just witnessed. Perhaps it would be too much to explain every little detail that happened next, so I will tell you in brief.

The peony-man never explained who he was, not even when the young man asked. He had something to do with the old woman and the winter peonies, but the peony-man's origins mattered nor, as he and the young man soon fell deeply in love.

The young man and the peony-man lived happily together until their hair turned white as snow. 

As for the giant peony, after its centre was revealed it shrivelled up and died. The young man was sad to see it go, but he was happy he'd seen it bloom into the most beautiful thing of all.