Under this scorching sun.
I saw a white-haired boy carrying a guitar.
Like everyone else, he fell under the bloody scorching sun.
I asked him: Where are you going?
Boy: I'm going to pursue my dream!
Me: Dream?
Boy: Do you hear the music?
The boy ignored me and walked forward step by step.
Looking for a dream? The people lying on the ground around him murmured, and then fell down again.
I shouted: Friend, please stay! This book is destined for you, so why not read it!