I Just Want to Be an Ordinary Writer

——This kind of thing, to Kira Yoshikage, is just a piece of garbage that is a bit complicated to handle.

After all, whether it's the gift box itself, the jars that hold the spices, or the spices, they all need to be sorted out - troublesome.

'We'll deal with it in a few days'

Ji Liang Yoshikage recalled the days of different types of garbage collection, and decided the final destination of this small gift.

Next...

Kira Yoshikage glanced at the time—it was time to go out.

In his mind, the face of Arisukawa Harue appeared—the people who belonged to the Arisugawa branch were also in Sendai City, but there was no overlap between the appearance of Arisukawa Harue and Arisukawa Tachibana.

If Tachibana Bowen met Tachibana Arisukawa, it seems more reasonable.After all... Tachibana Arisukawa and Tachibana Bowen's deceased sister have the exact same face.

And Arisugawa spring painting......

Kira Yoshikage's mood is a bit complicated.

If the two ladies with the surname "Arisugawa" knew each other, it would seem easier to infer.If they are strangers to each other...

Forget it.

Kira Yoshikage stopped his thoughts, went back to his room, took his coat and wallet and went out.

Yoshikage Kira has a small plan on how to approach Harue Arisukawa.

He took the door and went out, took out his mobile phone and dialed a number on the way to the tram station.

The phone was quickly connected, and Kira Yoshikage asked with a smile, "Would you like to come out and meet?"

An apartment in Sendai

"Well..."

It was a sunny afternoon, but the bright lights were still on in this apartment, as if he wanted to stubbornly gain a sense of presence in the sun.

The woman held a small glass jar at the lamp on the ceiling, admiring the contents under the lamp - inside... those amber eyes that were supposed to be divine in the light, flickering .

'Still not pretty enough'

——Thinking about it, the woman pouted slightly.

Her "sister" needs something prettier, and it's a pity... with a strict enough aesthetic, pretty eyes aren't everywhere.

But just be patient.

correct.

Just be patient...

There will be.

Whether it's beautiful eyes, or... my sister's heartfelt praise.

The woman's name is Harue Arisukawa - she has a fairly well-known surname, and because of this surname, she must do her best in everything - this is not living up to it.

She put down the glass jar and picked up her phone to check her schedule.

Tomorrow's words...

Seems like a trip to the hospital—vacation is so short.

With regret, Arisukawa Harue lazily got up from the sofa, and went to the kitchen to open the refrigerator and take a look.

Seems like it's time to replenish the ingredients.

She lowered her head and asked herself what she wanted to eat recently, and then she picked the nutritional ratio of the ingredients to be purchased, and then took the mobile phone and entered the purchase list.

Done with this - go out.

Arisugawa Harue doesn't care about Tachibana Bowen.

It's not about confidence.

In fact, in the end, Tachibana Bowen didn't die in her hands - she was an insider at best, and the one who really did it...

She thought of the girl and shook her head with a smile - she was a very good child, even if she was caught, she would not betray her.

Look.

In this way... Arisugawa Harue is simply irrelevant~

She stepped out of the elevator on high heels and nodded at the apartment security with a decent smile.

As soon as she walked out of the apartment, her eyes fell on the sighing girl sitting on the steps.

The girl had a head of ink-like hair that poured down to cover her face.She was probably injured by a fall while riding a bicycle, and the girl was babbling over and rubbing her reddened and scraped calf.

——Looking at the back... He seems to be a very beautiful person.

Arisugawa Chune stopped for a moment, then stepped forward with a smile.

She bent down slightly, with a friendly smile on the corners of her eyes and brows: "What's the matter with you?"

"Ah, I just fell down accidentally." The girl turned her head when she heard the words, her jet-black hair rose with the breeze and the posture of turning her head. The eyes of the story.

'what,'