Toji Stabs Himself の小説・ストーリー

That wasn't right. *"I hate…."* *No.* *"I….."* *Who was speaking? Her? Him? Or someone else?* *The memory shattered, and the pieces fell away. He tried to gather them, but they cut his hands. There was blood on white. The blood wasn't real…..was it?* --- Time passed or didn't. They came back or maybe they'd never left. They brought more needles, more questions and more white. "Who is Esteban Torres?"