Hah! It showed on my face, didn’t it? I’m so easy to understand.
“You were muttering complicated things, Marikana-chan…”
What the hell? I’m so disappointing. I want to condescendingly insult myself.
Day by day, sun rises and sets. How long can I continue with that repetition?
At least I’d prefer to think of it as a series of non-empty moments.
I wonder if there’s meaning to living. Is it to just vaguely enjoy life?
Lies and insults are both disgusting, but… sometimes you want to cling onto them.
I poured coffee inside my body. The clink of the cup resounded hollowly.
“Y-Yes! What is it, Kanada-sama?”
“Marikana-chan, I’ve called you 20 times…”