'Cocktail Potion' by Transworld Transfer Bartenders

"Mr. Evening Mist?

I was called out to her when I was choosing bourbon among the foreheads I had forgiven myself. Turning around, there was the face of a young woman I found out there.

I almost unconsciously switch my expression to a customer service sole.

"─? Hi there!"

"Hello -"

─ ─ is a regular woman who comes to the store for a little while. Frequency is once or twice a month. The amount you spend isn't that great, but when she's around, the store gets gorgeous.

As a result, the amount spent by other men or uncles increases, so I am a happy customer who will contribute significantly to sales as a result.

That was the first time I'd ever met her outside the store like this.

But the fact that she came to this liquor store herself made sense. In the first place, I was the only one who taught this shop.

"You really came"

'Cause you told me.

That's what she said. My regular girlfriend says she's only one or two above me, but she looks much more grown up. But laughing in a bright spot like this seemed appropriate for the year.

Here's how I taught her how to shop.

When we were alone at the futon store, he asked me what I was doing on the day off.

So I told her that I was practicing cocktails, and that I was talking about this store.

She also said she likes alcohol again, so she said she'd go next time. I guess that 'next time' happened to be worn.

"... uh, so, what does Mr. Evening Mist buy?

"Eh. Liqueurs around here, well, it's a cocktail ingredient."

"Wow, it's all really cocktail ingredients"

"Because I look like a cocktail idiot!

I smiled back at a glimpse into the cage.

I feel weird seeing customers outside the store on holidays. Occasionally they ask the store regulars to take them out to dinner, but most of the time for older men.

How long has it been since I've talked to myself and a relatively old woman this way?

"Oh, well, here's what I am"

I don't want to talk too much, so I'm just gonna head over to the register. At the end of the day, Bourbon doesn't have a choice.

But don't call me that.

"Hey Mr. Evening Mist. Because of this, can you show me around?

"Guidance? You know more about people in the store than you do, right?

"Because it's good"

She looked just a little desperate.

Well, is it easier to ask a bartender you know than to ask a clerk you don't know for guidance? Eventually, in the form of being pushed off, I was supposed to guide you. I was glad the manager was laughing a little when he saw me like that.

I kept my customer service mask on all the time, and I felt a cage filled with bottles and heavy eating into my hands.

Eventually, it took her about thirty minutes to buy two liqueurs.

A plum liqueur made in France called 'Prussia' and a chocolate liqueur called 'Mozart', its' gold '.

Prussia tastes like elegant plum wine and is very tasty whether you drink it as is or break it with soda.

As far as Mozart gold is concerned, would it be a good idea to break it easily with milk?

I don't know if I made the right choice, but ─ looked satisfied.

"Thank you. That was very helpful."

"You're welcome. It's just not good if you stop coming to the store because you don't really like drinking at home, right?

He said, "It's okay! I'm coming. I'm coming!

She said she came by train, so I walked her to the station and gave her a lift.

She laughed furiously at the slightly thorny joke that came out of my mouth. Then again, we walk to the station, playing catchball with the same words as customer service.

Nothing in particular, we arrived at the station.

In the meantime, this would have done my duty, and now it's time for me to say goodbye. I'm going back to the store and I'm going to take my bike home again.

"See you around here."

"Ah."

As I said and tried to turn my back, ─ she sounded somewhere lonely.

I wonder, I ask.

"Um, what's wrong?

"Oh, you know. Yeah. I just want to ask you one more thing."

"Yes, what is it"

Striving and smiling, I waited for her to say.

A lot of passers-by throw their gaze at us stopping at the entrance to the station like they're not watching.

After a long tour, ─ asks.

"Mr. Evening Fog said - well, what's your favorite cocktail?!?

"Is this your favorite cocktail? Too many drinks, you're lost."

I have a lot of cocktails that I like, but when they say they're my favorite cocktails, I can't really answer them.

So I, laughing and misflirting, glanced at her bought bottle,

"If you're in the mood right now, with a Porcia soda!

As always, I returned an answer that was not obvious. But the feeling I put in there is solid and genuine. Now I feel like I want to drink the most Porcia soda in the world.

She had a subtle look on her face in my response.

"... Evening Mist really likes cocktails"

"Yes, I'm like living for a cocktail."

"Does the cocktail feel like a lover, like?

"A lover, or no longer like a community of destiny?

Joke to each other, laugh a little.

─ ─ looked horrible somewhere and looked a little unfortunate.

And I spoken of the puffiness and another question.

"Why do you like cocktails so much?

"Huh?"

─ ─ Your words mix with cracked noise.

"Well, here we go."

When I spoke again, there was no stopping voice.

At the edge of his sight, he looked like he was just a little relieved--

Bartenders and customers are basically forbidden to fall in love in our group. If you become a store manager, you will be responsible for the store, so it is not completely prohibited, but it is not recommended.

Give me a few reasons, but overall, to 'avoid extra trouble', would it?

So, if... if you had said those words, I would have told you.

'I have... someone I like'.

That would have made it as easy as possible.

It doesn't matter if such a person really is.

Simulating that in my head, I felt nauseous without being told.

I couldn't forgive myself for thinking that I might, maybe, be confessed.

I asked myself if it was worth getting into it and just being liked by people.

There is no such thing. I'm not attracted to people like me.

I couldn't forgive myself for thinking that way.

A man who didn't face Ibuki's confession from the front thinks about which side he lowers and makes love etc.

I don't deserve that. I can't afford that.

If you have time to skip depression on that, you have to practice cocktails for even a second longer.

That sentiment, which is also similar to the obsessive-compulsive notion within you.

Doc and his heart beats faster just thinking about it.

Zukizuki and it gets hot so I can burn it in my head.

The more you push, the more you accelerate your drooling, like a mixture of negative emotions and romantic feelings.

And.

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

"What!?

I hold my head and nod. I don't know for a second where I am right now. I pat my eyes over and over and realize I'm walking on a dark night lane.

I don't know how far I remember it and where it came from was my current thinking.

I look up at the blurry night sky with confusion. Raw hate and the moon is hidden in a chiseled cloud, but it will show its face again in minutes of things.

Looking at the slight starlight, I could see that the blunt pain, like being hit in the head with a hammer, gradually subsided.

Until just now, I was thinking about cocktails.

Mr. Oyaji told me, I was going to put into words the reasons for holding him in a cocktail.

But I didn't see anything like that in my memory.

"... that's disgusting"

I feel nauseous and breathe in the wind at night. At least, I tried to calm down.

I have a consciousness that my mind is not back in full. There's a big deal between me in memory and me right now.

Now I'm enjoying my job as a bartender.

But I used to feel like I was suffering somewhere from a job called a bartender.

It may be a conjecture, but I don't feel there's something depressing about my mood when dealing with people.

Seeking Ibuki's 'cocktail' is and always has been the same. I mean, my behavior should remain the same.

Yet the environment alone can change this?

I left something bigger, something missing...

"Evening."

Night greetings slip into my head as I sink into thought.

When I looked into the voice, my nausea and worries disappeared.

I was clearly blinded by that gray-haired girl.

"... Trice"

"Yeah. Long time no see, total"

Trice, who hasn't shown up in six months, told me to chant, with such lightness that I didn't feel the flow of time.

"Tonight, the moon is beautiful... no, I guess it's time to get tired of the Ten Bowl. What do you think?"

Trying to enjoy the conversation with me makes Trice feel slightly upset.

The night sky, caught and looked up, had a beautiful moon floating through the clouds.