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"London in a week before the semester resumes: it's either that I've used the last drop of fortune I have after the encounter with both Yotsuba Yazawa and Benzaiten who sat over an offertory box."

I talked to myself, and no one replied.

Of course, it'd have been scary if there was someone who answered when I arrived alone. I murmured so in the language I speak natively, about demented in its sudden enunciation. Since I've gotten hold of an immeasurable, allegedly "Lovecraftian" power, the awareness I give to everyone and everything has been heightened tremendously─but sometimes, keeping tabs to myself has, for better or worse, been its iffiest.

I don't know.

I'd be lying if I say I'm not scolding myself from exuding potential drama.

Maybe it's only from a perspective of unacceptance.