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(The End.)

“You saved me,” he said.

She had been wrong. She didn't hate spring. She had just been waiting for someone to share the silence with. Download video sex japan school

Sakura watched in silent agony. She couldn't compete with that directness. Her love was expressed in ma —the pause before speaking, the tea she left on his desk, the way she stepped half a pace behind him in the hallway. (The End

Sakura Mori hated spring. Not the cherry blossoms themselves, but what they represented: new classes, new seats, new people forced into proximity. She was a kurakari —a shadow-dweller—content with her library corner and her tattered copy of Natsume Soseki. (The End.) “You saved me