Otome Game Rokkushuume, Automode ga Kiremashita

Lesson four: There's nothing hard about it.

That's the easy thing to say. His eyes look at me. Instead, my eyes said why not.

If you don't know, just ask. If you don't know, just let me know.

The suggestion that I didn't think of at all was exactly, scales from the eyes. Even though it was simple... No, because it was simple, the answer that could not be guided by solidified values was as if it were a revelation.

I mean it quite seriously, not too much. This one has a death flag!

"Phew."

"... what, all of a sudden"

Happily and accidentally overflowing with laughter, I just lagged behind in telling me that the boy was creepy. The sudden laughter may have surprised you, but I wonder how that would react. That said, I'm happier than that now, so I'll get you through.

"Thank you."

……

"Yikes! Then I'll go. Farewell boy!"

"Eh..."

I guess I was pretty tense with a clear vision.

The boy's voice, still saying something, was from right to left, and the cat from 'Duke's Lady Mariabelle' was nowhere to me as I entrusted the dress and ran up. You were a three-year-old before you were a young lady, me.

He desperately moved his short leg with a dress hem in his short arm and walked with all his strength.

Where are we headed? That's your mother's room, of course.

× × × ×

"Ann, is your mother naked?

Ask Anne, a made-up, who doesn't know which way she came out of her mother's room.

Of course I fixed my dress and hair a little before I put it on, right? I don't know what time or where you were from. Ann might find out, but I don't care because she won't tell me. If you care, you lose, if you care, you have no kiri.

"Yes, yes, but... My lady, your wife is"

"Yes, that's fine."

I blocked Ann's words I answered and knocked on my mother's room door.

I can imagine what Anne would say in her previous experience. You're going to keep me away from here for reasons I don't know if I'm busy, tired, or lying or true.

In fact, for the first time since I knocked, I've had a nervous breakdown. The voice that called me must have been unexpected, ma'am, and I think I heard a rush. I had feelings... No, I guess it's obvious, but I suspected they were too generous to be seriously emotionless.

"Mother, it's Mariabelle. May I come in?

"…… Maria, honey?

"Yes, sir."

"Lady..."

I opened the door faster than Ann would have stopped. Mannerly, it's a problem, but if you pull it off here, it's no different than before.

If you can stop it, act before it stops.

I talked to the boy and got it. My weapon is too rough and not near the blades, but now it would be the blades, but it would be the reverse blade, but I can't proceed without using it.

As soon as I opened the door and went inside, a woman with a surprised face at her knee with a book in a window chair looked at this one.

Long time no see...... how funny, but my mother. A little mismatched with a ruggedly luxurious room, an outpouring that should be said to be clearer than flashy. Pastel purple eyes that look at this one and make it truly round are also unlike memories.

"I will follow you, Mother"

"Maria... what's going on?

She's also quite surprised by the sudden visit. It's a problematic reaction as a parent-child relationship, but it's a normal reaction considering the interaction so far.

Pick up the dress gently and lower your head. As you forced a surprise visit to your room without acknowledgment, it's minimal courtesy. I'm not in a position to be polite at the time of the assault, but the area is through.

Being a small, three-year-old warlord, I have only as many weapons right now as I am young and through skill. I can't do anything about it myself. But if I do, I will be killed. We need to make the most of what we can use.

I can't bring it if I'm determined to. I stared into your mother's eyes and opened my mouth.

"I have something for your mother."

"Well......... what is it?

"Mother…… Are you familiar with me?"

"Wha......!?

I could tell. I bit it, but it would be a good point. Because I'm only three years old, there shouldn't be a problem if I can't pronounce words smoothly. This time, the contents are more important than what I chewed.

My daughter asked me a sudden question... and my mother turned a blind eye to the subtle remarks. I'm surprised and saddened to understand the content, such a look.

From the look on his face, he doesn't hate me...... does he? If you pepper your expression, it's a happy result for me......

"Duh, duh... I can't believe I hate you, no"

"Then why aren't you here to see me?"

Yes, that's where my optimism stands.

Even if I came to see you, you wouldn't see me. Even if I can't see him, he won't come to see me.

Apparently I was more stressed than I realized myself. I feel very angry at the look on your mother's face when she says it's like she's scratched.

If you don't hate me, why don't you meet me? Aren't you coming to see me?

Don't look sad on your own, you haven't done anything. You're not even trying to meet, talk, or act. I'm all desperate, and you're just waiting. And yet don't look like you're the only one who's hard.

"Mine was much harder!!

"Ma, Leah... Mariah"

"Even though it's me who's miserable and hard! Maria worked a lot harder, even though she stuck around a lot! Don't your mother look like that!!

It's a terrible seizure. Allowed because he looks like a child, it's a sight that can be described as outrageous considering my mental age.

Your mother is going to cry at me crying. In your mother's case, you're gonna cry. My unleashed 'real' would be one of the causes though.

It's the first time I've noticed mine too...... no, the true meaning of 'Mariabelle'. Myself and the emotions of Mariabelle, three, the original owner of this body, mix, becoming one voice and pouring out of her mouth more and more.

"Maria has a lot of things she wants to do to her mother, even though she likes her mother... but she's probably having a hard time with Maria, so she's full of them."

Don't hate me, don't hate me, because I love you.

The real Mariabelle must have thought of it when she was three.

Like me, your mother hates you.

And more than me, you couldn't help but be anxious.

Unlike me, Mariabelle was an authentic three-year-old.

I was anxious and anxious, but I'm sure Mariabelle would never reveal it, and my mother didn't notice my daughter's anxiety... she chose to divorce me. I don't know why, maybe your mother didn't want it either. But for Mariabelle, a decisive event that turns anxiety into certainty.

They hated me. My favorite mother didn't love me.

It's hard and sad... but I can't hate it. Indifference until the destination chosen by the thoughts of no place to go is extreme. It was the cause of the lack of any information in the past five weeks, the saddest reason I thought it was within my expectations.

It was just spoiled, but it wasn't a sexual vice. That's why I don't think it's as cute as it would be acceptable, so I just think it's "Zarami" when it comes to the last five weeks.

"That's how it made me think……"

"Huh..."

"... I'm sorry, Maria."

Breathing sneezing up over crying, watery nose. As a courtier, before that, as a girl, I was wrapped in a fluffy soft feeling as I was desperately putting my nostrils on my face in an effort to endure only snot.

"You are…… everything to me. I love you from the bottom of my heart, ever and ever forever...... I love you, Mariabelle"

I'm being held tight. When I realized that, I couldn't do it anymore, and something in me overflowed.

It's me, not me. Maybe something very important for 'Mariabelle'.

He's not my father, he's not a meritocracy maid. I was able to get what I wanted, what I was missing, wrapped up in the warmth of my eager mother.

"Happiness" is a word I have for this time.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

"I'm sorry I made you feel lonely. Mariabelle was right. Your mother was wrong."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

This is the first time Mariabelle has ever heard a voice spoiling her hair with gentle hands and a soft smile.

I know. I remember the favor given to me as a baby when my heart was raw in a state of fullness.

But Mariabelle is. I don't know Mariabelle, who has grown commensurate with the year. I couldn't help but expect, that gentle smile, and the voice calling my name. Mariabelle is now the first to know all about it.

Then…… I have no choice.

Let me give you a full sense of my first mother's warmth and love to dispel my previous anxieties.

Even if later he tried to get attacked by so much shame that he wanted to run away and scream at me.