Twelve years old is already the age to know love. Twelve years old is ignorant and beautiful. By that time, my elementary school had become a sister school between City A and Japan. At that time, the relationship between China and Japan was not as bad as it is today, and Japanese things did not cause excessive resistance and rejection in China. We are still watching Inuyasha struggle between Kagome and Kikyo, and watching Naruto work tirelessly to become Hokage. Unexpectedly, more than ten years later, they have ended or are approaching the end, and we, this generation, are still growing, struggling with love, career, and the vast world.
It has been nearly twenty years since I was twelve years old, and I have been more or less disappointed in some aspects, but one thing is that I have no regrets. He is unique to me, and love is unique to me.