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... ving only a thin cut across the palm of his hand.
"Did it scratch me? What a shame."
He hadn't even seen the gear clearly, but he brushed it off—just another trivial detail not worth dwelling on.
When Mitaka Jin returned to Sakurasou, a deep fatigue weighed on him.
He chalked it up to physical exhaustion—too much "protein output" today and a restless mind. He didn't think much of it.
"Jin, you look awful. Are you feeling okay?"
Misaki had come out ...
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