Villainess’s Sweet Everyday

Stars frost, stars frost, this world continued to exist. Before and after I was born, I'm sure it'll be forever. I wonder if we can get around here. I saw a large bookstore. People come into the store with friends three or five times. The two-storey bookstore is three-dimensional and modern. Incentives with the magic of typography everywhere.

Suddenly I feel like I want to talk to Mille-Feuille. Is this some sort of systemic, or is it some kind of force that works, or is it some kind of a compromise for escaping reality? I want this bus to change from a pastoral and horrible route. A lady in a high-sensed dress in the front seat stood up and sat down. I wonder if there is any meritorious meaning to it, and what it will acquire in its dawn.