The two were fifteen or sixteen years old respectively, and there was not even a formal farewell. That year, the camellias were blooming, and the cicadas were gradually chirping in midsummer. She looked from the playground to the top floor of the teaching building. There was only one person in the corridor. The person looked down at her, with his mouth open as if he was saying something. She couldn't hear it, but she seemed to have always known it.
"Goodbye, trash."
Goodbye indeed, but I would rather not see you forever...
Those who are destined to meet will eventually meet again
The sincere summer will definitely come
Intention: I wrote it for fun. Anyway, I was very happy when I wrote it.