Kato Kokoro Novels & Stories

If only that distance could be folded, crushed into nothing. Because what she truly longed for that day—Wasn’t just Indonesian flavor. It was togetherness. The kind you can’t send through a screen. *** Sometimes, Heri would send her pictures of his cat—a sleepy-faced ginger cat with short fur and a perpetually drowsy expression. “SO CUTE!!! TOO CUTE!!! >.<” Sakura said cheerfully and then continued. “Send me more tomorrow, okay? I want to see nyan nyan every day!”

This is a tough enough situation, and we don’t need to add anything else to it. Luna Katarina gives me the slightest nod and turns to walk away without another word. Her leaving changes the thickness in the air, but it’s still just as thick as it was before. Jamorea, that’s my mate’s name. I have to say that I was right before. That name just does something to me. I can feel it throughout my body, and I like that feeling.

Kiro sighed after seeing how lifeless his daughter, he searched his pocket then called HiKo over the phone, who's still busy digging the books he bought for him. And the next thing happened was that they're entering the establishment, with HiKo giving Ruruo a thumbs up because yesterday she was so angry that her father really not want to bring her to eat in the Pancake House. Then HiKo gave her an advice to cry, before their father could go to work, like he did when he wanted to buy the Houchi50 series book, that was only sold in Europe, and tadaaaa their work was in success, their father was a slave to their tears.