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why?

tristan tried to write, he really did. but his hands were trembling so much he'll probably drop the pen, paper, and his phone.

he never imagined what he saw when he ran into sabine's house, after having to use his spare key.

and he can't even think of it anymore.

yet, the image burns itself into his memory, into his imagination, into his eyes.

sabine...

his ken.

he only had one question for her. just one.

...why?

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