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It was a spring day when the petals of the cherry blossoms began to open. We came to Tohoku, guided by an email. What was waiting at the station was a young lady with slender limbs that didn't look like a child, and her double teeth peeking when she laughed. We, who were ashamed of the stain of breast milk that overflowed even if we were still, of a married woman who did not know her identity well, felt a sense of immorality, and went straight to a nearby hotel ...