I feel a bit of a loser going back to Nino only when everything else goes wrong. But he was okay with it, HAHA, eventhough he's busy being cheap and awesome and stuff. I took out all my old things, put it on the bed. Arranged them nicely. Browsed through the shop photos; reread the articles that took me centuries to translate. Played with my penlight and recollected my memories of Tokyo slowly, savouring each moment. Standing on the windowsill nineteen floors above the ground just to get the perfect picture of Tokyo's nightlife, walking for miles and miles but never feeling tired, all the men with wind-blown hair wearing suits & riding bicycles (HAHA), getting lost while train-hopping... and of course, the concert.
The concert where we felt so close. So damn close. Where we sang along like mad, mad people with a dozen other Japanese females, who were mildly surprised there were foreigners there but didn't really mind. Where we heard Nino's voice live instead of through the computer screen or my earphones. Where Nana heard SHO'S RAP IN BELIEVE. Where we were lucky enough to come just in time for 5x10, and got a little teary-eyed during the high note.
Then we had to go home the next day.
*God so depressed now t.t
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