Since the inception of memory, the world has been colorful.
Father in brown linen. Mother in blue clothes. Little sister who loves wearing red.
Golden rapeseed fields. Yellow earth. Black dog. White smoke. Green leaves. Rice with a hint of yellow.
Good days. Very good days.
He truly did not care. Really. Since his birth, he harbored a block of ice in his heart. He could laugh, could cry, could feel joy, could feel displeasure. But these emotions never truly "deepened."
They seemed like disguises, never coming from the heart.
However, even if it was just a warm stream flowing over the ice, he liked it very much.
Although this "liking" couldn't be considered heartfelt either, it was just a bit deeper than "something."
Then...
Then...
Then was those bones protecting one's own body. Seemed like father and mother.
The round head rolling on the ground. Seemed like sister.
— Seemed...
— Seemed...
— Seemed, it should be like this.
— Then I, seemed... seemed should...
