The human heart is like a palette. Various colors are mixed together. Even the mildest color will eventually become black.
Hope, doubt, struggle, suspicion, confusion and despair, Yumisi knew that she was not him, but she was him, and that she was chosen to be the master of this power.
Weirdness has chosen human thinking and memory to do what weirdness should do.
"Everything is fine. It would be better if we don't meet some of the same kind." Yumisi calmly glanced at the hat that exposed herself outside the window without knowing it.
Intention: a product that has nothing to do, and may not be finished
