In fact, you don't know that being strong is not my wings.
Smiling constantly can also hurt.
Who said that our youth is a sad poem. I know.
Just after seeing your smiles.
It's dawn. The rain stopped. Gardenias are blooming.
So, we hugged.
As a result, I can still smile brightly, and the hair lines rendered by the sun are lengthened.
Then, you said, well, you are the one I am most worried about.