The Girl Who Spits Up Jewels

I turned the book with parallax and it was the charm page that stopped my hand.

What was depicted was a carved billboard charm of meatballs pictures. "It's cute to hook it up to your pet collar," it says under the creation drawing. If it is cute to hang on an animal, I thought it would go well with a stuffed animal.

It's strange because when I decide to make you this girl's necklace, and then I look at the rabbit sitting next to her, her face looks like she's laughing happily. Wait, I gently stroked my head, and then Crewe started producing.

But this doesn't work any better than I thought. The first thing I decided to do was stretch the clay with my fingertips to create a flat ellipse, and create two protrusions on the top of it to form like a face of a raspberry, even though that was all the work, I couldn't figure out how to shape it, so I started. I'm about to dry. I watered it many times, reconstructed it, fought viciously, but finally, I could do the face of an eyeless raspberry - something I can't even see.

Ugh, I take a breath and raise my face. Across the desk, Sputnik was also fighting clay.

He wraps the elongated and stretched clay around a wooden stick, and uses something like a syringe to paint a fine ornament on it. From the thickness of the stick, what you can do is probably around the ring.

And Crewe sighed unexpectedly, not least because he was moved by his delicate handwriting and the beauty of the work he produces - not least. Because Sputnik's eyes facing it were unusual and straight.

Usually Sputnik doesn't let people in while he's working. So only when I sneaked a peek into the machining room could I see that. Unlike him, who is disgustingly painted with his usual sarcasm and bad mouth, the eyes that spot the product that comes together at hand are unclean and pure, without sweet laughter or distorted by disgust. His eyes, which no woman (kokiku) will ever know, have a good expression, not on top of this.

Bring the wrapped wooden stick closer to your face, release it, try watering it down into the light when you do, and ask how it goes. Later, against the blueprint at hand, the deficiency was known, and the syringe was shaped in the hand and replaced with a cutter or caller. That's how we get a little closer to his imagination. Only Krew knows that, his face better than any of them. That's where I had to look from the shadows. That's right in the front of me now, so let's also leak a sigh.

But. It was also staring, and there was no way the person being watched wouldn't notice. Your eyes across the ring moved a little, at the same time that Crewe thought.

"What's up?"

Unexpectedly, Sputnik called out to him, and Krew stiffened his body.

I wasn't doing anything extraordinarily bad, I wouldn't have to be questioned to hide it. It is somewhat embarrassing to have been noticed staring at him working though. Covering his cheeks with both hands, he made a cheeky laugh.

"I'm doing that, Mr. Sputnik. You look great."

"Huh. That. I can't afford to pay attention to anything else right now, so don't be weird."

"Huh. I'm sorry."

"Don't put another hand on your cheek. It's gonna be white."

"Ah."

If you ask me. The palms were dirty with clay - but from what I've just been told, it's a later festival. I can't see it because I don't have a mirror, but I could easily imagine what I look like right now around Sputnik laughing.

"Are you done yet?"

"Oh, not yet. But I'm getting better and better. It's hard, but fun."

I think I just figured out why Mr. Sputnik likes to make accessories. When I answered that, the end of Sputnik's mouth seemed distorted only slightly into the shape of a grin.

My first production is fun, but difficult, requires concentration, and I'm busy thinking about how to make it nice in front of me. Because of this, any thoughts and troubles disappear completely from my head. Now that I've withheld the important day to tomorrow, I guess I should think and take whatever measures I can, not if I'm doing that if it's true, but far more than I'm doing that, now Crewe was relieved.

"Um. Can I talk to you, please?"

"I don't care, I'm not making a sale"

And I guess that's the same for him. I replied relaxed and not feeling terribly nervous.

However. Crewe tilted his neck because that Sputnik word was slightly odd. Not for sale, what?

"Isn't that a product?

"Ah. Didn't I tell you?"

"I didn't ask. … is it a gift"

As much as I know what it means to give a ring to someone else, so does Crewe. It was because of that that the voice that asked sank, but it was an unexpected answer that was returned.

"Yeah. For myself."

"For yourself?

"Hey, come on in.... what, those eyes"

Unsurprisingly, he opened his eyes and thought something strange. Crewe answers him without hiding what he thinks, whispering his eyebrows and asking.

"That's unusual, I thought. You don't accessorize much, do you, Mr. Sputnik? No, I've always thought you were a jeweler."

"That would be prejudicial. Does the funeral parlor arrange his own funeral every day?

I don't think it's the same as this.

Speaking of which, Sputnik is slowly turning and observing the ring slightly away from his face. Looks like we're looking at the overall balance. Eventually he takes up the syringe again and moves ahead fine.

Speaking of which. Give me the ring, so I had one thing in mind. - Talk about love.

"Mr. Ilaja, you're healthy."

After whining, I recall that Sputnik did not ask Iraja about it. If he is unaware of Ilaja's thoughts, he will not understand what it means to tell him so much.

"Oh, you know. Maybe, but I'm sure Mr. Iraja is."

"I know. You want to tell that guy you're turning up a fever, don't you?

He hastily tries to put in an annotation, but he didn't have to. Sputnik answered that all the time.

"Ah. You were aware"

"I can tell by the look in your eyes when you're talking"

Is that what it is? Tilting his neck hard to understand, he said, staring at the piece at hand, "That's the difference between me and your, life experience."

life experience. For example, will I be able to detect such things to myself when I get older? When I get older, see and hear a lot of things, know, and become a woman who doesn't lack to stand next to him - and I think that much, I realize it all the more. If you just look in the eye and you know who they think, then what if.

Doesn't that mean that all my thoughts that I was supposed to have at the bottom of my heart were also stuck with Sputnik?

"Well, then, Mr. Sputnik."

"Yeah?"

"Su, Mr. Sputnik, wow, me, me, who do you think I like, you know when you look me in the eye?

Ask in an inverted voice. Then his grey eyes moved, reflecting the crew.

The tension, as if peeking at the bottom of her belly, ran all over her body, her heart bouncing, and a force in her belly expression on her shoulder - but it didn't last long. Sputnik immediately returns his gaze to hand and resumes work. staring at the ring with one eye and slowly applying force to the syringe's pawn, answering the

"I'm not very interested in your child's romantic situation."

My throat rang.

"Hih, terrible"

"What, you wanted me to care"

"It's not like that."

There is nothing more embarrassing about being noticed, but indifference is also disheartening. Sputnik laughed all the time about how he saw her like that when he had an undivided stomach for what was good.

"Well, if I'm serious about you, 'No one to think of' would be right."

"Eh."

"Think normally, it's not like a guy with a favorite guy comes into another guy's futon at night, even though he's a guardian, and he wants to sleep with you, but he wants you to fall asleep... what's up? Bloated cheeks."

"Nothing."

Yes, it's nothing. It's not about Crewe's romance or anything like that that that matters right now, so there's no need to get angry or reason to grieve at all, then there's no need to - shake your head plumply, kick out the clutter, and get the story back to the main line.

"More than that, it's Mr. Ilaja. Poor girl."

"Poor thing?"

"Mr. Soaran says he has someone who has made up his mind. They say he's dead."

"Hehe. That's my first ear."

The story of her fiancée, the story of her (button), the story of her pledge of allegiance to the association - all told, and finally, Krew concluded, "So maybe Mr. Soaran still loves that girlfriend," he said.

"So, I thought. Wizards get engaged, even if they're not with someone they like, right? Is it a homeless association pattern? Race pattern?"

Say.

For some reason he looked at Crewe with a frightened look. Like, "What are you talking about, you are" if you want to put it into words?

He said, "No, he's not a wizard."

"Eh."

"For example, Elise, the person you married was addressed to her husband... Elise's father."

"Eh."

In contrast to Crewe, who unwittingly raised his voice in amazement, he was a calm one. Pale, talk.

"It's also a problem to learn too much about the privacy of our customers, so let's just talk about this here.... My husband set up a matchmaking seat and married someone worthy of Elise's husband by finding a bourgeois man from the edge of your own working relationship. It's not uncommon for a common man."

So she was made to go with a man she didn't even like? What the heck - I almost did my hand on my cheek again, but I remember my hand is dirty right in front of me and stop panicking. Sputnik still continued his conversation calmly, against Krew, who could be wolfish about the first time he heard it.

"So I guess there's a lot of households and stuff in the wizard world. And then there's the magical talent or something. If you multiply good wizards with each other, you will often have good wizards."

"Hang up... like a dog or cat"

"I don't know how far the Witch Society and the others are going to go. I told him that's a possibility. Well, if that's the case, it's you. If you didn't really love her, would it make sense that you could have sworn allegiance to the association without grief where your fiancée and others died?"

"Oh, no."

Sure, the wizard hurt Sputnik, the same race as the awful. But straight and hard-working Iraja, or listening to her, still shakes me that it's not all when it comes to wizards.

Sputnik exhaled deeply and deeply as Krew wandered his gaze without any water to sow. Apparently, I was stunned by her worrying. He has eyes that say he has no specifications at all.

"Just"

He shrugged the conjunction. with a clear, slightly louder voice.

"Don't get me wrong. Taking the previous example, my husband wanted to make Elise happy, and Elise decided to stand by and accept it once she knew it was for her own good. Also, the person who hits her husband is very good, and she deeply loves Master Elise. - No one knows what the bottom of a person's belly is, and it's premature to decide that whatever history a person has had before they meet, even the edges (eh) created by it, are fake."

But that's hard, and I don't really understand it for Crewe. Are you trying to say that Elise is happy right now - somehow, okay, but she's not?

"What do you mean, what do you mean?

"I mean, I don't know what's in that guy's belly.... I wonder if this is the case"

Sputnik muttered his conclusion as if it didn't matter badly, placing the syringe on his desk and looking at the ring-wrapped stick closer to the light again. It's like a tangled string, with lots of curves. Embedded with some stone frames, thick and thin in some parts, it has a design that is likely to be fulfilled for both men and women.

"Yeah, well, not bad"

He revisited the whole of it he had created and grinned. Then turn to Krew,

"What happened to yours? Did you do that?

"... uh"

"The face of a rabbit."

It's too naive compared to his work. Besides, I'll tell you what. but he just guessed at first sight who it was that was a bumpy inappropriate.

I'm happy, my voice plays unexpectedly.

"Do you understand"

"Or a jellyfish with only two legs left behind."

"Rabbit."

But as always, it's a lot of words, so let's swell our cheeks.

"But eyes, nose and mouth. I don't know what to do."

"Face... then draw it in a syringe"

Let me try to lift the syringe I was gripping earlier. But what is painting with a syringe, something that even amateurs can paint well? Sputnik, who deals with it, seemed to move his hands very, very carefully - but to her, who frowns anxiously, he offered another way.

"Or how about carving it with a"

"Carve?"

"Yes. So, you just have to smoke that much after firing. Smoked liquid must have been on the shelf, and it's not that difficult to work with. Considering making your expression stand out as a nose and eye, maybe that's better. It's up to you."

You should like it. Say, Sputnik chuckled.

Smoke, huh? Lost either way, Crewe drops his eyes on the piece at hand. The first clay rays were exposed to the lights, and the thinness of the surface created a thin shadow.

That face, without even an eye or nose, got the shadow colour (all sorts of things) and looked like she was laughing happily.