"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.