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Summary
Be it you, who will disappear someday,
Or be it me, who will disappear someday,
In this life, we live with high expectations. To be together, a pair of two. Is that what we all wish for?
The cloak of the Index was white. Blood was a deep gray. Flesh, a pale gray. And the sky was utterly black.
In that case, red was the only hue vast enough to contain our madness.
Series
- Part 6 of Je-ne-sais-quoi (riendon my beloved)