There is always that one person who has long since disappeared without a trace in your life, but leaves a unique place in your heart. Missing is like yeast fermenting. The more you think about it, the more it will expand. At a certain time, it will not explode, but will start over again quietly. This is a story about the years, it is not over yet, and I just hope to record it while I still remember it. I am afraid that one day I will forget, and I am afraid that one day the people in this story will forget.