Often in my previous life, I went to ramen on my way home from work.

I think I was probably a work idiot around talking about my coworkers and their work stupidity and stuff as appropriate.

When I was twenty, I used to go to the tavern, but I liked the atmosphere.

The atmosphere we all drink, whilst being delightful.

However, whatever your carefree direct supervisor is, the drinks are no thanks to the guys in the position who have to be in a good mood.

I mean, what do you want to say?

The invitation for Claude's labor, I imagined.

It means it was a little different from what I was thinking.

Rocked by a carriage, we reached a city beautifully paved with cobblestones.

The houses on the triangle roof have a sense of unity with white painted walls and the city itself is like a set of movies.

I saw it in the photo album before, it may resemble the streets of Germany.

A city that is fashionable in a nutshell.

He eats lunch with Claude, who can be described as handsome, in such a fashionable city, stylish cafe.

Claude today is in private clothes.

A simple, clean outfit suits a good young Claude.

I was led to a terrace seat, but the cheer of spring is very comfortable.

The water from the fountain reflects the rays of the sun, it's beautiful.

Claude looks at me happily in front of me.

His gaze was sweet and mellow, as if his face were a moment of bliss.

That alone makes me feel like sugar water is going to come out of my mouth.

"Why don't you eat Claude too?

"... oh, excuse me. I was happy with the time I was doing this with the lady, and I forgot to follow her."

Sweet! Hot as a dialogue instead of gaze, Mr. Claude!

How come? You haven't even been with Locke in your last life, and you're trying me for intolerances?

It's like a date.

What I was assuming was one that smelled more muddy like this.

And yet, what's this fluffy feeling?

Why am I having a nice lunch with a handsome silver-haired guy in such a nice place?

The couple in the world, they all taste something like this?

I'm swallowed up by the atmosphere, and I don't know what to do.

The hand holding the fork is trembling and it's hitting the plate and making a noise!

When I went to dinner with a guy I dated in high school, there was no such thing as a blooming atmosphere in the back like this.

Families go, they eat guts.

It feels good to see the slip, and I'm thrilled to pay so much, but I feel different from the thrill I have right now.

Is that it? That's crazy.

In retrospect, I'm starting to feel like I didn't have a date in my previous life.

"My lady, my eating hand is stopping...... could it not fit your mouth?

My consciousness was tripping, upset by unexpected events.

A sober claude calls me back.

"Oh, that's not true! Yummy!"

"Is that true? Good."

To my words, Claude breaks his face as relieved.

That indefensible smile keeps coming to my chest.

Easy, my heart!

For Hilda, Claude is a butler. Childhood tame.

I'm only interested in Shota, so if it turns red here, they'll think it's weird.

Even if I was too immune to be treated like a princess or handsome.

I have to act like Hilda here.

But wait, okay?

In the first place, the idea of working isn't Hilda in itself.

... I don't know what to do, I'm confused.

"I want to dream that this is how a lady invites me from herself"

But Claude really loves Hilda.

Even though I'm not a dog, I can see the momentum I'm going to see the phantom tail pretending to be, and the favor is being directed.

"Hey, how come Claude admires Hilda so much?

"Yes... now the lady has forgotten, hasn't she?"

When I visit, my happy face shades until just now, and Claude smiles with a slightly sad face.

"I met the lady when I was ten. I have been taken by the Elves as a florist."

"What, Claude is a florist!?

Unexpectedly surprised by Claude's words.

A florist is a human being with special powers for those who belong to the devil.

If you interact with them or drink their blood, your magic will increase exceptionally.

It smells like a cute flower from its body and is destined to attract demons.

I don't know how I know that, but it's not because it's in Hilda's memory.

It's just because the protagonist in this maiden game, The Crown of Dusk (Odin), was a florist.

The protagonist, who is suppressed in her scent as a florist by the handsome wizard she raised, enrolled in the School of Magic without knowing she was a florist.

Look for only one destined person who will protect you.

If you find someone destined as your adoptive father put it, the protagonist can be a florist exclusively for that person.

But if I can't do that by graduation... the magic my adoptive father is putting on my main character is off, and I'm going to be in a lot of trouble with pheromone release.

It's for all ages, so I was forced by the characters of multiple people I got along with, and it was an end like an extended battle of love, or a bad end where blood was collected and used as a tool.

If this was an eighteen forbidden game, it would have been an erotic... no, I could have imagined it would have been an Eli setting.

"The lady remembers the florist."

"Yeah, for once. I guess somehow it feels like a word comes to mind!

Encourage Claude to continue the conversation, duly deluded not to be suspicious.

"I was destined to be ravaged by the elves. But before that, the lady took me into her possession and protected me."

Claude unbuttons his shirt a little and shows it over his heart for a moment with a shy face.

There was a rosy writing there.

"This is a testament to me being a florist just for the lady. This suppresses the scent, and if you forgive anyone but the lady, I will die."

Though Claude says the proof, like a treasure, while re-buttoning it.

I'm starting to feel like I've heard some pretty heavy stuff.

"Uh... maybe Claude was also doing something like that with Hilda and her... oh?

I thought it might be something I could ask, but I'm curious, so I ask.

Claude clouded her eyes all the time, shaking her neck weakly to the side.

"As much as I'm a lady, I don't spare giving myself this. I would rather you used my powers as a flower visitor. But I'm five years older than the lady. By the time your daughter was old, she wasn't eligible for romance."

Claude talks with an uncut look as he holds it over his heart.

"But even if I were a young boy of lady's choice, I wouldn't have gotten my hands on it."

"What makes you think that?

Claude whines in a given up voice, but I think the young Claude was definitely Hilda's favorite beautiful boy.

You shouldn't feel uncomfortable at all being in this Shota Harlem.

"The lady's mother was the same florist as me. The lady who has been watching her mother with the elves... must have felt sorry for me."

If you ask Claude, that's what I've said.

Hilda's father was a royal family of elves, and his mother was apparently an exclusive florist kept in the royal palace.

It seems that flowers are not hereditary, and Hilda was not flowers.

But because he had a genius magical talent that was premature and rarely seen, he was taken over by the royal palace.

"Master Hilda made a pact with me for pranks, but pretended she didn't know how to solve it. Flowers are precious things, so until Hilda grows up and figured out how to solve them, I'm supposed to be a butler with a lady."

So for Claude, Hilda is the benefactor?

I felt like I knew why I admired it.

Back in the day, maybe Hilda wasn't even that twisted kid.

- Isn't there a good place for Hilda?

At the same time, I don't think Hilda's growing environment is decent.

I've seen my mother be comforted by the elves, so I guess I hate men and ran to the shota.

There seems to be some room for sympathy.

That's why I don't know about Hilda, who created this death flag-laden situation.

She speaks to the lady and returns to me from her thoughts.

Claude was staring straight into these eyes.

"I am satisfied with that in any way, if I can be at the lady's side. Even with amnesia, I'm a lady's thing."

Pure Claude's eyes are dazzling.

Dear, respect, gratitude.

That kind of emotion came straight from Claude.

... Sorry, I'm a different person from Hilda, whom Claude is grateful for.

Watching Claude admire me, it hurts.

I felt a little guilty that I was cheating.