At night,
the world seemed to plunge into an eerie silence, especially within the residential neighborhoods, which were terrifyingly quiet.
Primarily because in the Island Country, there was a group that was noticeably absent—the lively aunts of the square dance.
Bustle only existed in izakayas and karaoke bars, unrelated to the quiet streets and parks at night.
All the villas had turned off their lights; the only room that still had illumination was tightly covered by curtains with only traces of light seeping through the gaps.
"Ah!!"
At the desk, Misaki Saki, wearing a pair of black-framed glasses, scratched her hair in irritation and ultimately crumpled the drawing in front of her into a ball, tossing it onto the floor.
The crumpled paper rolled twice before coming to a stop against its companions, forced to brake.
A messy desk, a cluttered floor, paper balls scattered everywhere.
