Ring Ring

Shiori was thinking back about the day she first met Klust.

Appearing in the room with a strong light, at first, he was merely eyes round and solidified. But as soon as I laid my hands on the sword that I could carry on my hips, I began to be alert about Shiori as well, moving only my gaze and observing the small apartment room.

I was able to swallow the scream of fear that Shiori had up to his throat because I could read from his appearance that the crust was as confused by this situation as Shiori.

They're the same as me, and I don't know why. When I was so sure, I just calmed down a little bit.

"Um..."

Speaking out of the kitchen as an audience, Crust instantly turned to Poetry Weaving, without breaking his guard. A force that is likely to be slashed when approached poorly.

To the crust staring at this one with sharp eyes, Shiori said the same words he said to the wildcat he saw on the road this morning.

"It's okay...... because I won't do anything"

I just didn't go on until I was "just stroking" but then I asked myself why I was trying to reassure the intruder.

The crust watched Poetry Weave for a while, but eventually took his hands off the sword softly.

By the way, I was later apologized for discipline by Crust. I didn't mean to slash him for real, but there's no sin whatsoever —— on the contrary, I can't believe he tried to turn his sword on the victim's woman.

"Um, what the hell are you... What kind of magic is that? And that's cosplay?

I mean, a magician's cosplayer? Cosplayer magician? Shiori listened as he guessed who the crust was.

but frowning at the words returned.

If it's not Japanese, it's not English or Chinese. It was a language I wasn't used to hearing. I have no idea what you're talking about.

Trouble...... Shiori was at a loss.

Crust was the wind asking Shiori something, but when he found out his words didn't make sense, he held his mouth like he'd given up. After looking around the room again and looking suspiciously at unfamiliar appliances such as television and air conditioning, he returns his gaze to Shiori again.

As always, it remained solidified on the spot, into a poetic weave that was just bewildered,

When I spoke a word and lowered my head gently, I twitched and flipped my body toward the window. It was dark outside when the curtains were opened, but the lights of the surrounding buildings kept the view busy. The crust opens the window while slightly clutching to the key and exits onto a narrow veranda.

"Hey, hey?

In front of a confusing poetry weave about what he was going to do, Crust put his foot on the railing of the veranda. You thought you could "go" by checking the bottom once, trying to jump as-is--

"Oh, no! Because I can't! This is the third floor!

Shiori rushed over and pulled the crust's top.

The crust turns to the troubled face of the poetic weave that desperately pulls it off. But when he went down to the veranda, he went back to his room, pulled.

"Oh, it's dangerous, if you jump off that place...! Mostly, the entrance and exit are right over there... so if you go outside dressed like that, they'll definitely ask you questions about your job. Look, sit down for a second... let's calm down once, you and me both... Oh, take off your boots. Japanese houses are strictly off-limits."

That being said, Shiori took his boots off as he sat his crust in a duvet with a lovely waterball cover on it.

Even now that I remember it, I think Shiori was acting strange then. I can't believe I pulled the suspicious guy out of the house again and let him stay there.

I stopped trying to fly off the veranda, but then I didn't kick Crust out the door because he kind of seemed like a worldless, dangerous person.

Japanese society or did not seem to know the rules and common sense of living in modern society. Though his face looked like it, he was a little odd when it came to 'foreigners', and he was pumped with signs that he was going to cause some trouble if he went straight outside.

But it was only then that Shiori opened the curtain for the two of them to live together by showing such a fondness that they had not even noticed.

In the poetry weave, life with the crust is only a pleasant memory. Even the happenings that arise from differences in language and culture, I found interesting.

Shiori was a people-friendly type, but for some reason he was open to crusts who were supposed to be that other person.

A relationship where the word "filling" fits well. Some people don't fit horses for what they did, but Crust is the other way around.

I'm calm with you, and I'm cozy. That's what Shiori thought.

Of the first, the conversation between the two was barely complete. I can't help it because the words don't make sense.

"Hmm?"

When we had the conversation, Shiori had to look closely at him to see what the crust wanted to convey. Because there's only one way to read their feelings by looking at their eyes and expressions.

But the other person has a perfect face like "God created the greatest work of art." I didn't think anything of it because I was desperate at first, but after the first four or five days of my life, Shiori became embarrassed to stare at the crust.

Even when I gazed at him, I had to give-up in three seconds mostly - that is, blush his face, and turn away.

And to such a reaction of Shiori, the crust seemed confused at first. Perhaps he was hurt a little by being distracted.

But a few times after that, the crust seemed to have figured something out. Shortly before Shiori turned a blind eye, she noticed that her cheeks were always fine.

Then Crust turned into a refreshing demon.

When Shiori tries to distract her face, she tries to subtly obstruct it with her hands on her cheeks, or gaze at it at close range so as to peek into her face, making Shiori bright red like a ripe apple.

Klust must have thought Shiori was a man who was not immune to the opposite sex.

While making myself sound good that I was just being made fun of, Shiori, however, couldn't help but be upset by every move of the crust. I had a lot of physical contact when I couldn't get through the words.

When I was tired of my winter break assignment, I said, "Are you okay? I was casually stroked in the head and twitched when I said," When I happened to make the egg tart that was in the cookbook, I was hugged like I was impressed —— I've heard this since the words came to pass, but they have the exact same treat in the country of the crust -- and my heart is about to explode.

Until then, for the poetic weave who had taken a flat path, living with the crust was highly stimulating. In a way, it was a very cardiac life, and I was sometimes confused by the amplitude of my emotions, but that was never something I disliked.

Often I find myself delighted to discover if such a girly sensation has ever happened to me. Life like a heart bouncing every day.

The time spent with the crust sparkles behind the heart of the poetry weave like a treasure.

But the brilliance is now a little dazzling and painful to the eyes.

It gets hard at the same time when I think of the look of the crust. The burnt out heart was brittle and was likely to shatter easily if it took any more damage.

The day after the parade, Shiori went out to the store as usual.

Roche was in the store, too, but he's been weirdly kind and a little disgusting since yesterday. He cares about what made Shiori cry. But it was a little uncomfortable being treated to touch the swelling.

Roche seemed openly horrified to observe the poetry weave's eye area coming down from the attic and find no sign of crying.

That's how I tell him to confirm it.

"Are you all right?

"What?" I thought I'd give it back and be mean, but I'm not even that energetic, so I'll stop.

"Yeah."

And that's all I gave back and got to work.

In fact, the only time I cried was then at the parade. I thought crying all night and swelling my eyes the next day was the promise of a broken heart, so I felt like clapping out at my reaction, which was paler than I thought.

But the way heartbreak pain appears, I guess, is for each person. If I could rather cry overnight and change my mind, I thought it would be better that way.

In the case of Shiori, a blurry dark shadow began to exist in the back of his chest yesterday. It doesn't get violent, but it's not going to disappear easily with deep roots in it.

(If I make a new love, I wonder if this shadow will disappear)

I blur about that, and, uh, I see the opposite sex that's closest to me right now. It looks very good to account for gold, it is a roche.

You felt the gaze, Roche stopped moving while holding the coin. Shiori sighs.

"I don't... it's Roche..."

"I don't know what it is, but don't get angry"

Words that describe your feelings for Roche are difficult. I think the word "like" is a little off. Of course I like it if I don't like it or not, but I get angry a lot...

For Shiori, Roche is an unfriendly guardian and near-perfect boss. I also respect the skill and knowledge of making medicines, their smartness.

Such complex emotions that I don't want to admit that I honestly respect you.

Anyway, it's not the kind of relationship that develops into love.

It seems difficult to find a new lover, so I have to forget a little bit about the crust in me. Shiori was so determined.

On that day and the next, Shiori even concentrated on her work.

Sometimes I don't want to think about Crust's engagement, but I didn't want to leave my job behind because of my broken heart.

If you lose your job, you lose almost all the support of the heart that lives in this world. That was so horrible.

But bad things go on.

Three days after the parade decided by Shiori's broken heart, the alley pharmacist suddenly lost the Lord.

—— Roche has gone missing.