From a purely objective standpoint, Laxis had always been a withdrawn child.
She couldn’t even really feel what people called “loneliness.”
When your talent and intellect tower too far above everyone else, it becomes almost impossible to see them as your own kind.
To Laxis, she had simply grown up surrounded by a bunch of cats and dogs. That was all.
Love didn’t matter.
Family didn’t matter.
Friendship didn’t matter.
Those basic building blocks of human relationships were like air to her—messy, yet transparent and soundless melodies.
“The tin man without a heart”—there was such a character in one...
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