About the night.
As usual, archery was attached to Marielle, and suddenly Meena came. "What's the matter," I ask, but Meena sat in a corner without fitting in and watched the archery.
"Meena?"
"No, keep going"
"... well. Then we go on!
I was concerned about her condition, but I reconsidered that Marielle's audition should be given priority over it, and immediately resumed the audition.
To be honest, it's the neck that we don't have enough time. Currently, I have basic training to avoid losing the singing skills I have.
Instead, what I'm focusing most on right now is the representation of the scenario.
(You thank Nell. Simple scenario but well put together in time)
In conclusion, Nell did more than I expected. I created a scenario.
Various immature aspects were prominent scenarios, but there is something that draws people into a story that becomes a bone.
I really wanted to complete the scenario, and Nell and I have been in the scenario for a long time.
The fantasist's girlfriend had a verse that somehow wanted to twist the scenario, but when she got a little done there, how could it have been a pretty convoluted story?
(... When I showed Marielle this scenario, Marielle would do it, I ran out of words. He also said he could stick around saying he didn't like this scenario. thanks for her decision)
The story is very simple. It's like there's only one character anymore.
Still, it's the only story like this that embodies Marielle.
Marielle's past.
That's the scenario that Nell and I came up with.
(Naturally if you think about it. If they tell you to create a scenario in a short amount of time, you just have to create something existing as a motif. That was until this was Marielle's past)
At all, I watched Marielle dance while I thought it was a good idea to have something like this.
Dance Lv.3 just like Meena. I'm sure the reason I have more skill experience than Meena is because Meena has become a dance Lv.3, which means that she has been pouring for quite a while against dancing.
"You're good, Marielle"
"Oh, right.... You're good too, Meena."
"... thank you, Lord"
"But I don't think we've beaten that dance yet," she mutters with a haunted face.
"That dance is somewhere hiccups and harsh"
"... right"
I know exactly what that word means. It's a real hiccup.
That harshness, because Marielle has always wanted to describe something lagging within herself.
"I asked Marielle if Cayenne could come today. Maybe that's why."
"Oh, you did..."
"Marielle, she was whining quietly. Thank you.... I felt half sorry, half impatient, and a little nostalgia, like"
……
"I want to respect both her acceptance and Cayenne's decision to meet."
"... I see"
I snorted straight at Meena whining quietly, too.
It must be complicated.
Marielle must have feelings she couldn't do to Cayenne, who distorted her life as a result, without being able to protect herself, and she feels burdened that Cayenne, who helped her wounded self, was captured as a criminal slave as it were.
Cayenne must have a crush on Marielle, who couldn't help but protect herself, and at the same time feels unable to do it to Marielle, Durone's daughter, who took everything from her.
Still, I guess you two wanted to meet.
That's why I decided to let you two meet. That's all. I had no right to stop it.
"... Marielle, that's amazing"
"Oh."
"I'm sure you'll be hired, Opera."
"Well, if they show you something like this, you usually hire them."
With a view, be sure.
I'm sure her essence is in dance, as soon as she got to dance and recreate the story, she got a far wider range of expressions than a singing opera.
The harshness in the depths, the passion for dance, the sorrow that has been abused, the dance is a wonderful representation.
That was enough to be looked upon unexpectedly.
"Lord."
"What's up?
Meena's question was, in a way, too pure for me to be alarmed that way.
It seems like nothing.
"... What does the Lord want to do in this world?
And it was harder than anything to answer.
"... if the answer is hard, it doesn't matter"
…… No. "
Stop thinking and drink white water. This white water in my hand, which I had forgotten to drink for a while, was cold and lukewarm. Remember the feeling of dyeing through your throat and recognise that you were thirsty.
What did Meena ask?
That question knew I was from another world. That means that Meena knows that there are different worlds.
"I, I'm sure, want to be"
I remember the old words. I was determined to be a part of this world.
That remains the same now. I've always thought it wasn't a bad idea to fulfill people's dreams like this, but I'm sure the real me is me of that nature who wants to flourish.
I'm sure I want to be. I'm sure you use the word because you have no confidence in yourself. I have no confidence in my abilities, but rather, I have no confidence in my mind.
What do I want to do?
Isn't it just making fulfilling people's dreams an alternative to their own?
"That ritual that says, 'Wouldn't you like to leave a name behind' is a word for me."
Confess.
I'm not a decent person, to be honest. I'm not even a beautiful person. I don't have a lot of people with beautiful minds who can either grind or worry about it.
I know that to justify myself, to break it off that I would have no choice in my past, life would be too tiring without them.
But without them, let's just say God asked me what I really wanted to do.
Can I answer something then that I want to do?
Maybe I can. I enjoy watching people fulfill their dreams, and that emotion is a kind of self-satisfying vice in me.
"Meena, I want to be a part of this. In a few simpler words, I want to be happy"
"... Sounds like the Lord"
"Otherwise, I'm miserable."
"... Meaning as words say"
I'm sorry, but I don't really want to get inside myself.
So I'm going to break this topic down around here.
"Marielle's dancing is amazing."
To switch conversations up to the outspoken, Meena shrugged like she'd only noticed for a moment, then smiled at me and matched me with "Right."
That's fine. Meena is such an attentive adult.
Silence lasted for a while. In the meantime, the night sky was just for me, Marielle and Meena.
The dance was illuminated by the swinging lights of the burning fire and it was fantastic.
"Oh, looks like Cayenne's here," Meena muttered.
"Well, I'll call you."
"Thanks"
"Me, it's a good time, so I'll go to bed when I call you. It was nice talking to you."
"I was happy, too."
"Lord."
When I looked at Fumi Meena, she was slightly tearful. Why are you crying, I thought.
"Please be…"
Oh, I will.
No, you can't be.
The words out of my throat, I didn't even know which word it had become. I just feel like it was the word "good night".
"Sir?"
"... oh, Cayenne"
"... why do you look like you've come up with it"
This man, Cayenne, who has a strange guess at the habits that have come late, could have been someone I don't want to see at this moment. They guessed something from my expression. I decide to delude myself by sighing exaggerated, "I'm tired, I'm the one who's tired of waiting" on eight hits.
"Look, Marielle, it's a guest."
……
Marielle stops dancing and singing perfectly. The turned face just doesn't look good in the shadow of the incendiary fire.
Better not see, I thought.
…… Evening, Cayenne. "
…… Oh, good evening! Sorry I'm late!
Marielle lowering her head gently and Cayenne laughing happily and showing off.
The cuts to the conversation are even simpler, arranging ordinary topics: "Well, let's go introduce ourselves," "hehe, yeah, that's something we haven't seen in a long time," "... oh, it's been a long time," he said.
"But you're totally different."
……
And the wind blew. The flames of the bonfire shook and Marielle's expression lit up for a moment.
He looked pathetic.
"... it's a lie. I got ugly."
With a gentle smile and words, she has no lies or lies whatsoever and just squeals like that.
It must be a word that spilled naturally, special emotions are not put anywhere in the word.
That gentle smile looks pathetic. Just that.
"... right"
Cayenne, on the other hand, neither affirmed nor denied it.
Just whine like you felt it.
A quiet time ensued, when the fire just wobbled.
If you think so.
"... Actually, hey, I'm getting old and ugly too, my head is bald and my tongue is so long!
Crap.
I almost sprayed it.
No, it's not your hair, and your tongue is long. I can't stop laughing. I thought, "Huh?" I heard a weird noise.
"... eh"
It was Marielle. It was in my bump without half.
I was holding my mouth with both hands with tremendous momentum and enjoyed it hard, and there was Marielle shaking her body like Cayenne coughing up her tongue with "cheeky" oh no more talking to you.
"Huh, ha... uh... ha"
He successfully avoided laughter by taking a deep breath on his shoulder.
There was no earlier pity anywhere in my eyes looking this way.
"Already, Cayenne, you are"
"Oh, I'm Cayenne."
Cayenne's expression also had a gentle grin, but no shadow anywhere.
…… I'm Marielle. "
Finally, Marielle returned it with a normal grin without shadows.