Secret love is a successful pantomime, but speaking out becomes a tragedy. From what I thought was competition, to later becoming tablemates. I don't know when I had a place for him in my heart, but when I woke up, I suddenly found that I was deeply trapped in it. I don't know when my heart moved, and I don't know how to end it. I changed classes for him, became less like myself, and particularly cared about my own image...
A secret love that started in the first year of high school can only be buried in the heart...
A secret love in school days, even putting the homework books together feels like fate
I'll still run across the building just to create a chance encounter even though we can't pass each other even though you've never looked at me.
Portrait of my real experience
Concept: Secret love is a successful pantomime, but speaking out becomes a tragedy