'Cocktail Potion' by Transworld Transfer Bartenders

When I drink cocktails, I enjoy them first with my eyes, then with my nose and finally with my mouth.

Technically speaking of mouth, it varies from the tip of the tongue, to the inside of the tongue, to the root of the tongue, to the throat, and to the scent when it falls out, but if you put it roughly, that's the place.

And this [Old Pal] looks red and vibrant, and the aroma is gorgeous thanks to the vanilla-based Campari and Vermouth.

It may be a slightly unexpected fragrance from the sweet looking image, but still not enough to betray expectations.

But what is this sweet bitterness, once the tongue touches it?

What you can begin to feel is the flavor of vanilla with the aroma.

With the gentle, reasonably spicy tongue of Rye Whiskey, it then spreads into his mouth.

And when it reaches that stage, this cocktail stirs up another face of Campari, intense bitterness.

People who don't like alcohol often talk about alcohol-specific suffering.

I'm sorry, I don't really understand that, but the first time I drank this cocktail, I remembered the story.

It's bitter. Contrary to its vivid appearance, this cocktail makes bitterness where it's spread out.

Many cocktails made with Campari are somewhere to alleviate their suffering with soda, grapefruit, etc. But only vermouth and whiskey are in this cocktail.

It's just three ingredients, each with an even cocktail.

Will each feature be utilized to soothe?

But I think accepting that as the hallmark of this cocktail is the trick to enjoy.

For example, it is not [Old Pal], such as [Old Pal], which is not bitter, as some people say that it is not a beer, such as a beer that is not bitter.

Besides, it's not just bitter. Some refreshing impression in the bitterness is probably due to the white wine that is made of vermouth - the sweet acidity of the grapes.

And past the sweetness and spread bitterness of the entrance. The warm impression in your mouth after swallowing is whiskey's - rye's.

The pastoral atmosphere somewhere in Rye Whiskey is harmonious with vanilla-based liqueurs, giving a deep depth to the overall taste.

The crisp flavors and aromas of the dry vermouth make a crisp impression like the wind blowing in the meadows.

And the last remaining Campari vividly engraves its red and vivid impressions on the created stage.

The entrance is sweet, but I never want to.

The exit is bitter, but never hard.

While I enjoy that flavor, I'll imagine. That's what Trice was talking about.

It's not just sweet, it's not just bitter, look like such a friend.

Together with a certain friend, stretch out a little and ask for this cocktail. At first, the two of us shine our eyes in the bright colors that come out.

But include it in your mouth and face it as soon as possible. I do, however, realize that the friend in front of me looks just like me.

So be kind of mean and make me laugh.

Surprisingly, I like it, don't I?

With such strength, the first cup is remembered.

They grow up and ask for this cocktail from time to time, as I recall.

The second time is bitter, the third time is bitter, but it changes only slightly in about the fourth time. In bitterness, I feel a definite depth.

That makes me happy and want to tell my friends about it. So I notice that my friend looks the same again.

At the same time, I realize what I can't tell you, that I'm starting to like you a little bit more now, as I say I like you first.

Gradually, I look forward to asking for this cocktail with a friend. When I feel like drinking a little, I miss not seeing my friend.

Eventually, my friend goes somewhere. I was left alone, and I was strong. Now you can drink this cocktail anytime you want.

And for the first time, you drink [Old Pal] by yourself, and you realize it.

He said he didn't really want to drink this cocktail. He wanted to drink this cocktail with a friend.

You notice at the same time. Now this cocktail is the only one that reminds me of my late friend.

And, imagine, I laugh at my own imagination.

Based on the image Trice told me, but to have myself thinking about talking so far with just one bite of cocktail.

[Old Pal] would never be a cocktail for 10,000 people.

It's also slightly different from recommending it to people who like dry cocktails, like [martinis] and [gimlets] to name a few.

A cup with a whiskey base, but not a glimmer of habit. A drink to give a sloppy shock to anyone looking for something like that. I feel that way.

I renewed that sentiment and looked forward.

What about Trice, who toasted just like me and put a glass in his mouth?

I felt like I was looking at a friend for about the fourth cup, imaginary earlier.

We didn't say each other tasted good or bad. Trice, who sparkled her eyes, looked at my expression and accidentally stopped the words.

Then I might have looked just like her.

I decide to put aside for a moment what I think of the flavor and try to attack it from a different direction.

"Satisfied?

"Yeah."

The meaning of her asking for this cocktail existed in her. And that, apparently, was filled.

I smile, and then I move my hand to clean up the appliance. In the meantime, I made sure I didn't intentionally see what look Trice was wearing.

She tips the glass quietly. I wash the appliance with water flowing from the faucet while turning the silence into a BGM. The water that conveys my hands cools my fire lights from the ends of my body.

"Hey total. Can I ask you a question?

Her voice turned to me.

"What do you think human identity will come to?

"... what kind of question is that?"

"It's drunken bullshit. You just have to be honest with me about your total opinion."

It was a very difficult question for me to answer.

There's a woman who thought she was dead, and that's what a woman with different hair colors is asking, with her face and personality intact.

I want to ask her, and there are things she hasn't asked me.

"In a simple example, the human mind and body have been replaced, something like that. When that happens, which way do you stop with an individual, mind or body?

"... physically, physically, and mentally, mentally."

Is that an answer or a subtle line? That's my honest answer, though.

Trice creates a slight wrinkle between his eyebrows and continues to ask.

"So, which body or mind do you think you are personally treating as an individual?

"If humans take the theory that even thought animals, the more human part would be the mind. I think the contents are more important to people than they look."

"... yeah, actually, I wish I was too"

I was turning my head, listening to her toothless things.

I can't grasp the intent of Trice's question. Is there some conclusive fact she's trying to direct me there?

She includes [Old Pal] in her mouth again.

Like an anecdote from earlier, symbolic of memory.

"One last thing"

"Oh."

I finished the wash, too, and contained my own portion of red liquid in my mouth.

Try to swallow harsh memories, not just sweet or bitter, and wait for Trice's words.

Her mouth opens.

"If there was a dead person once, and there was a completely different person who took over the idea, could you say that that person was the same person who died once?"

I couldn't answer the question, I couldn't tell you.

I couldn't ask for what she wanted me to say.

I notice. Trice's fingertips are stained white, as cold and solidified. With such a strong force, he is holding the hand of the glass.

That's all she realized about this question.

I deliberately stopped my head trying to start thinking about the answer they were looking for. I thought the kind of answer I would flush here would be rude to her.

"Assuming."

"... yeah"

Only tentatively, I said with a pitiful forethought, so that I could fall either way.

"Assuming that Torisu Ibuki was reborn and lived somewhere, I'd be happy. I'm glad, but if that girlfriend is Izuki Torisu, I don't know. Because Ibuki in me died once. If that's what happened, I'd love to cry, but I don't know. I don't think I should decide whether to call her Ibuki."

Maybe, but if Torisu Ibuki is the situation I said she would have felt the same way.

Torisu was much, much more thoughtful than me. What does she think about what makes a human being human?

I hated being called Torisu, and I wanted her to call me Ibuki - suppose she was given a completely different name, consciously.

I can't throw away the name Ibuki, and I wouldn't even reject the name I was given.

Individuals are not complete in themselves alone. I have myself, I have connections with others, I have comparisons, and that's where I become the first individual in a human gathering.

If 'Torisu Ibuki' is thrown into a completely different situation than before in that state. If only thoughts still have 'Torisu Ibuki' in a different name and different environment.

I can't say for sure that I'm "Izuki Torisu," etc. That would also lead to denying the life of that different name a different name given.

"... well. You're really starting to think a lot."

Trice said looking just a little lonely.

It looks like you wanted me to affirm it, or you wanted me to deny it. But you didn't know my answer. Neither.

As she confesses, she deliberately glances at me and goes on like a soliloquy.

"I still have something to do. Until that's done, I have to be Trice. But when I finished it, I was going to be Torisu Ibuki."

"... to plan,"

"So I think the total would have been happier to have lived quietly, forgetting about 'Torisu Ibuki' really. Maybe it would have been nice if I hadn't gotten my memory back."

She said before that she came to see me arbitrarily. Maybe he was making a case for 'cocktail cooperation' to see me.

It was probably a late act that I couldn't really contain my feelings, thinking it was better not to make contact.

She has a situation I don't understand. Until that circumstance is over, that is, until the relationship involved in the circumstance can be liquidated, she seems to have to be a Trice.

At least you mean you can't be just a human being, 'Torisu Ibuki'?

"But today I really wanted to take you away, even if I was Tris. If you think I'm Ibuki Torisu, I thought I could take you."

And you said, "I don't know."

"Yeah. I don't know what to do. It's not very good to say that you don't know who you are."

Trice gave a stubborn look. Now you look like you're blaming me firmly.

"So I'll just say it again. Total"

"Oh."

"Come with me. For me, and for myself in general."

It was a quiet invitation. And maybe I found out that there was no lie in her words.

My mouth is dry. Before I speak, I reach out to [Old Pal] to moisten my tongue.

As always, sweet and bitter. I can't say one thing or the other.

"... don't say something unsolicited to me. You told me to keep chasing the cocktail, and before I got an answer in me, I asked you out."

"You've already worked hard enough for the 'cocktail'. There's nothing more you can do in this city. You're in the totality, aren't you? I don't think I have to work hard anymore."

Trice's hand reached out to me. Remember the chilling temperature her hand had, her chest clogged.

Even I know. As much as I'm stuck.

The goal of the first visible goal was achieved. Cocktails have spread in this city, and there's a 'classroom' that I'm doing right now, and even if I don't do something, cocktails will spread.

Sui's desire to help people also began to come true in no small part. I don't know how I can talk about this personally anymore.

All you have to do is take the road called Cocktail - the Bartender - on your own without precedence to this world.

What Mr. Oyaji told me today is good too. This plan isn't meant for customers, it's like I thought about it because I want to.

I'm making my chest burn.

I didn't know how to best cocktail in this place any more than I do now, and I was just trying to push the cocktail to someone else in the dark cloud.

I was reminded of what Neune said to me.

I have a way out of this city to spread cocktails in different places. Repeat what you have done in this city in other cities.

Even if it's tough in a city I don't know, for example, on the lap of 'White Oak'.

You'll be different on your own, but you have a collaborator. There's nothing you won't be able to do.

If you repeat that, repeat it, repeat it over and over again.

You should be able to spread cocktails to this city first, then this country, and finally, naturally, this world.

I have already lost sight of what I can do in this city and what I can do by leaving this city is visible.

Rationally, I know.

If I really want to spread the cocktail, that's about right.

Even the mossy part of my heart somewhat concludes that that's the best part.

This invitation is rushed, but it's not like I wasn't thinking about it.

Trice's, stared into the mixed eyes of anticipation and anxiety.

"... I am"

I thought I'd say something. I felt [Old Pal] push me on the back.

And I spit out the words in my heart without thinking.

"I like cocktails."

It's not just the said tris. I said I was surprised myself.

Because words that came out of my mouth naturally did not answer the question at all.