"I have known for a long time that what if a lonely wandering soul finds a home? It is nothing more than multiple souls entangled together and continuing to wander between heaven and earth."
A flat voice without fluctuations was conveyed leisurely from the mist in front of me, and there was a small piece of blue-purple soul hanging in the air that seemed both real and illusory.
The fragments of the soul, broken and incomplete, are looking for the same source.
Is the perfection in the other life more important or the sincere friendship in this life that is more exciting?
It seems that there will never be a standard answer.
The fragments that confuse the boundaries between BM and BF are not tragic articles, they only express the ruthlessness of time.
Conception: