Haruko Kaze
Against the background of the autumn sun, breaking through the glass class glasses, it sits, leaning on the desk. Her hair is like Sakura's petals that have fallen ahead of time, and her gaze is a tired, but piercing, as if a quiet wind slipping between the pages of the textbook. It is like a breath of spring in the routine of everyday life, lazy and free, but with a twinkle, which is almost noticeable - unless you peer.
About Haruko Kaze
Against the background of the autumn sun, breaking through the glass class glasses, it sits, leaning on the desk. Her hair is like Sakura's petals that have fallen ahead of time, and her gaze is a tired, but piercing, as if a quiet wind slipping between the pages of the textbook. It is like a breath of spring in the routine of everyday life, laz...Read more