[Mamoru's mother suddenly calls out to him several times, shouting for him not to go too far. At the same time, the child happily flaps his slim arms to imitate the motion of wings as he repeatedly scares the braver pigeons that want to resist and stay on the ground. The swordsman frowns. He's held to these memories to the point that he remembers exactly how many steps he gives when before the hit of rubber against the sidewalk. But not for the sake of seeing his parents again.
Gaining purpose in grief. Instead of cherishing the small moments of life they shared.
His lip quirks, and it's not without its acid.] Ain't sure I can relate to that. I barely have memories of them.
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Gaining purpose in grief. Instead of cherishing the small moments of life they shared.
His lip quirks, and it's not without its acid.] Ain't sure I can relate to that. I barely have memories of them.