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... thinking, who am I?

I hear someone call me An Ran.

I turn my head, the long hair girl in [western style] dress comes running towards me, fair face glowing a healthy pink.

“An Ran, you hurry over ah, ho-ho, we have to celebrate our birthday together.” The girl’s voice rings like a bell, the flying skirt like a lily flower in full bloom. She is clearly coming closer and closer to me, yet is still unable to reach my side.

I instinctively take a step back.

I’ ...

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