Youth is like an unripe fruit, so astringent that it makes people frown, but it makes people want to take another bite.
It feels cold in the palm of your hand, and it is so sour when you bite it that it makes your eyes warm.
Each of the five people holds a secret, wandering among the lights and shadows in the corridor, the sound of the wind on the rainy night, and the white walls of the ward.
I want to get closer, but I am afraid of being seen through.
As time goes by, their stories are like the core of a fruit, hard and buried deep until one day they are awakened by memory.
Concept: Youth is not a person's loneliness