At the end of summer that year, the camphor tree next to the simple building was lush and green, and the cicadas chirped intermittently, making my heart skip a beat.
The boy's shirt bulged slightly in the wind, and the basketball spun on his fingertips. "How about one more?"
Under the sun, his eyebrows are flying.
The man leaning against the guardrail curled his fingers, raised his thin eyelids, and said in a lazy tone, "It's up to you."
Looking over, it seems that everything else in the eyes has lost its color.
Aloof, unruly and careless
HE
Intention: Keep your feet on the ground and look up at the stars