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Summary
When Hachi glanced over, instead of finding Nana inspecting the sky with scrutiny, she was gazing openly at Hachi, ribbons of cigarette smoke an opaque veil to the troubled part of her lips. And Hachi couldn’t think of Nana’s lips without revelling in how sweet they’d felt on hers, even in jest.
Moonlight shattered in the stream. Bullfrogs wept.
There, that look, Hachi decides. That was the ultimatum.
"What are we doing?"
