In the era of fluttering white clothes, my high school was too short. It was so short that I could pass it by in just a few words, but it was too short to allow me to grow.
So much so that I am left with fragmented memories, half of which are cups and half of which are fucks...
I would like to dedicate this document to my green years!
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Real green onions, real feelings. A true record, truly beautiful. [Cover face]
Real green onions, real feelings. A true record, truly beautiful. [Cover face]