One leaf falls and a hundred flowers remain.
The killer is the wind in the city, gently passing by in the bustling city, but he is just a passer-by. He does not belong here and cannot find a destination that belongs to him.
The light snowflakes washed away the colorful and dazzling brilliance. Under the flashy coat, only a broken hero was seen, shattered to pieces at the gentle touch of the lonely wind.
Just like the rotten heart, which was frozen and cracked into 7 pieces, 49 pieces, 2401 pieces...
We are walking in the same city.
We breathe the same air.
We take the same steps, go through the same twists and turns, and run towards the same destination that is not the end.
But we are strangers.
Conception: