Aren’t You Too Sweet Salt-God Sato-San?

Saturday.

When a thinly stretched cloud hits the cedar.

In the “cafe tutuji” where the sunset enveloped me warmly, I kept waiting for him (...).

And - surprisingly, just at 19: 00 of the promise.

From the other corner, a white, thin, long, however undecorated, car appears.

"... Coming"

I whine and take a deep breath, sipping teacups of tea all at once.

… Yes, it was time for fate.

The car was parked in a simple “cafe tutuji” parking lot, just divided by a string on the gravel, and the driver's door quietly opened and he revealed himself.

It's a pitiful story, but when I kept all that in mind and I had to admit what he looked like, I got a lot of barometric pressure.

Because he was too salacious (...).

Seventy-three portions stroked with gel or something, a white shirt with no wrinkles, a blue tie.

And peeking through sharp glasses, eyes as sharp as eagles.

He - Kazuhiro Sato, with a paper bag in one hand, stepped on the gravel road with polished black business shoes, and -

"Cafe tutuji at exactly 19: 00, as promised."

He looked down at me and said it off extremely cold.

Intimidation is not the same as over the phone.

That's all, this one feels like he's holding his breath, but all the while, he points to one of the terrace seats.

"I'll make you some tea now, please."

"I have one question before that, are you the clerk here?"

"Yes, it's off duty now."

"So..."

That's it, Wagen-san glimpsed the terrace seats over there.

Several men and women are bickering in a parasol mounted table seat.

"... do you have other customers?"

"Yes, are you dissatisfied?

"No."

He sits back in his chair and sets his feet together.

"I'm not talking about trouble being asked anything else, just take the obvious story for granted, and it'll be over soon"

"... tea, I'll brew it"

The last time I said that, I pulled into the back of the store.

... hold on tight, Push-tailed Yuta.

"Did you brew this?"

After rolling the tea in her mouth just a little bit, Wakuen-san has thrown such an inquiry.

It was sudden, so I ate a little, but I answer calmly.

"Earl Gray, it's what I drink all the time, Sa... Koharu drank it too"

"... I see"

That's what Wagen-san said and put his mouth on the teacup again.

Even if you're just drinking tea, the more sumptuous it is (...).

He was silent, and when he quietly placed the cup on the saucer,

"First, let me clarify the purpose of this debate, Shoutai, what the hell do you want me to do?"

"- Return the smartphone to Koharu, and correct what Koharu said about that seriously punched minsta crap, I hope you don't bind her"

"Binding, When"

Hmm, Wagen-san buzzes his nose and mocks this one.

I see. I see what you're here for. In short, I want this back.

That said, he takes his smartphone out of his chest pocket and puts it on the table.

The cover is as simple as selling it in a 100-yen shop, and there is no such thing as decoration.

Definitely, it belonged to Mr. Sato.

"And ask for correction of the remarks, …"

"Yes."

His sharp eyes crossed my gaze.

Quite a bit, and the hiccups are sounding nasty from somewhere.

Soon, the sun will set.

"... First of all, you just referred to my educational policy as“ binding, "but not in my perception"

Wagen-san spun the words quietly.

"My daughter, Koharu Sato, is ashamed of her low ability to communicate, is not good at expressing emotions and is not good at extrapolating people's feelings, on the other hand, she also tends to feel sensitive to people's emotional subtleties and become passive, you know?

"It's..."

... I know, it's hard to say, even in front of my parents.

"Well, anyway, from my parents' point of view without a glance, yes"

"... are you going to say that protection, not restraint,"

"Exactly."

"Soon-!"

I just accidentally got blood on my head, and it returns to me all the time.

Wagen-san was still looking at this one with cold eyes.

It hasn't been long since I met him, but I can tell by instinct.

If he were to spit out words as emotions, he would take a seat on the spot.

"What's the matter, Mr. Pushtail?"

Behind his glasses, his eyes, as a sharpened sword, are returning wet light.

The battle had just begun.