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... e, changed his clothes, pretended to do his business and ran out into the early morning.
For the old Torao, the morning was a thing of the past, a time of dread and pain.
Reminiscent of past events where the same feelings had sprung up, he skipped along the white morning street.
The annoying morning journey to school became something to look forward to.
He could not help but look forward to the ordinary, everyday things he had to do.
He could see her face. ...
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