As a script crew, I don't understand you very well.

36-40

Chapter 36 Funeral

Author of " As a Script Crew, I Don't Know You Very Well " : Tell Me About San'an

Toru Amuro turned his head in front of his subordinates in a bit of embarrassment.

Toru Amuro, who has never had much literary talent, suddenly remembered a poem.

"What can I do to keep you?

I give you thin streets, desperate sunsets, and wild moons.

I offer you the sorrow of a man who looks long and long at the Lonely Moon...

…I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never had faith. "*

He thought of the silent night after the boy's adoptive father, Mr. Oda, had just left.

There is no wind and not a single star.

The sky was silently black, surrounded by layers of dark clouds, falling oppressively.

The silver-haired boy just looked at the bright moon quietly, without any other expression on his face, just a faint one.

That's when he remembered the poem.

This poem is placed on the young man, and somehow it brings a kind of sad despair.

Toru Amuro thought, he was such a jerk.

When the boy fell, he had a relieved and relaxed smile on his face and cut his heart fiercely, but no blood came out.

He took a puff of cigarette tremblingly.

The teenager's influence on him was beyond his imagination.

How old should Cinderella be, he thought?

At most eighteen or nineteen years old.

He remembered when he was in his early twenties.

It is the confident and unruly smile in the police academy, the joy of running wildly when being punished for running on the playground, and the tacit look in each other's eyes when being reprimanded by Onizuka police officer with a black face together with his contemporaries.

It is wanton youth.

Think back to teenagers.

——It is a serious illness.

In the video, there are embers that have never been shown in front of the water friends.

"I said," the young man who was wrapped in layers of bandages casually brushed his long hair that was hanging down, looked at Bourbon's face sinking, and sighed helplessly, "It's a wound that can't die, why worry so much."

It's just that Bourbon's hand holding the medical record behind his back has turned white.

——It is the struggle of sinking in the darkness.

The pale boy in a black windbreaker passed by JK, who was carefree, wearing a beautiful school uniform, and laughing happily with a few friends. The boy's movements were barely perceptible.