The impulsive and grumpy young man with dark hair promised me a lifetime of happiness on the hill of Bipolar Mountains. But I watched his wedding, and the protagonist was not me.
I didn't cry, I just shed tears; I didn't regret, I just turned gray.
The young and mature silver-haired boy promised me to regain my emotions on the hill of bipolar. But I was ignored by him again and again.
I had no reaction because my heart was gone; I was not disappointed because I never expected it.
A hundred years later, when I set foot on this land again.
I said, I don't care anymore, yes, I let it go, I just came back to destroy this place. . .