The Former Hero Wants To Lead An Ordinary Life

- I was enduring a tingling pain.

No... I couldn't stand it...

"Yikes... what's the pain... you better be nice now...!

"I am"

The finger of the one I said out of the blue came to me again choosing it, and I wept.

"What's so sweet about that? You...!

"Shouldn't we apply this stuff thoroughly?

"There's a limit to it. I didn't apply it enough to drool. It's sticky and disgusting."

But he didn't have the ear to ask if all my crying and complaining were gorgeous through... and he forcefully accomplished the previous phase. But while I was relieved, it was further torture waiting for me the next time I managed to endure.

"Suffering... coming... tough... idiot...!

"A little intolerable?"

"I'm not coming...!

I absurd my voice as I stuck my breath in bitterness.

...... I had no choice but to break it because you asked me not to do it, but I knew I shouldn't have forgiven you.

I regretted it from the bottom of my heart.

- The Demon King was grossly clumsy.

I was licking human donkeys diving into the sea trying to catch crabs.

Speaking of which, even in elementary school, I did my fingers with a cutter in cartoonish time, and it was bloody. Dodgeball was shitty too. I used to fall asleep and roll down school stairs.... Anyway, I've never seen the Demon King do anything smart and refreshing.

He doesn't care enough about this one, but he's got a cool black history, this one.

I shouldn't have let him pay for the scratches or anything, but he really wanted to do it, so I asked him to be bothered... so much torture awaited me in tears. It's sloppy.

"... you don't have to rush, slower..."

Instruct the demon king, who wraps a bandage around my neck, sighing.

He was strangled with a twat or a bandage... and today he seems destined to be strangled.

Me and the Demon King bought some bread from a vending machine for dinner on the way back to the dorm (I have a bread vending machine at the school. They also run other vending machines for Oodle cans exclusively for cup noodles and winter. Do you think that Oden cans can sometimes sell out like quite a popular product), I followed the hardest route to see and even went back to my room, just in case I took care of the power of the Demon King's perception alienation. Moving weakens the effectiveness of perceived alienation, but it can erase the presence better than not.

To avoid the danger of running into guilds and brothers, I had no choice but to accomplish it, and I was just concerned about tightening up the Demon King coming into the room with his natural face, - and I was the idiot who got flushed. In the end, you deserve it. I know, but anyone would want to complain if I could get scratch pills all over my neck scratches and let them strangle me with bandages. I don't think anyone could at least let me complain. It hurts and it's painful and it's hard.

Seriously hard enough to put on the scale which is harder than my brother's punishment.

Happiness or unhappiness, even if I didn't have to take a trip to the medical room, my room had all the therapeutic tools to the extent that I didn't have any difficulty handling the wound, so it was my vendetta that I thought easily that I should treat it myself.

If you go to the medical room, you will naturally be asked about the circumstances of your injury, and soon you will be contacting the school side, and soon you will be in the know of your brother.

I wanted to avoid that if I could.

- Deputy Director Frameda's story was that the guild and the school could be connected behind...

Then I just complained that my neck wound was hit by the guild, and they won't deal with it or rub it off... worst case scenario, this one could have made a point.

There are no other witnesses because they were attacked in unpopular woods. Of course, I guess I've picked that place and attacked the other side...

Anyway, first of all, I reported to the deputy director about Nezu and also wanted to talk to him.

Having considered all of that, I returned directly to my room without stopping in the medical room.

Honestly, I was tired, and I can tell you I just didn't have the strength to face any more crap.

... I was never afraid my brother would find out and set me up.

But - when I washed my wounds and started looking in the mirror, "I'll do it," the Demon King dabbled.

Unwinding the procedure over the mirror on its own is not able to grasp the distance and is difficult to do. Especially the scratches on the back of the neck.

... Well, based on those circumstances, if that's all the Demon King says, I'll let him do it... and he's had to endure the ordeal at the beginning.

The prospect of making it was sweet.

Bad timing, Rokkaya was absent, which should only be relied upon at this time.

Are you out for dinner, or are you going to another room to play, … maybe the club isn't finished yet.

The incoming newspaper department in Rokkaya seemed to be quite active, so there was less to go at dinner these days. And instead, I dined more with the Demon King. Sometimes we head from cultural research to the dining room with our seniors, and sometimes Rokkaya invites the Demon King to join us, who has become completely immersed in our dorm room with our faces. When it's me and you, you don't have to ask me out. It comes about on its own. Anyway, it's Cargamo.

Naturally, I eat in the same classroom at noon. Besides, I eat in the next seat. I'm still next door during class. The club is with us.

Will it only save that the dorm room is barely the same? But...

(Aren't we together almost all four or six...)

How much time we share. It was enough for me to think again.

Sitting in bed side by side, staring at the demon king wrapping a bandage around my neck with a painful and serious face.

- Until I came to school, it was my mother who handled my wounds this way.

A set of therapeutic tools, all of which she prepared for me to hold.

Mother should have known there was a fine medical room in the school, but "I'm determined to let it go without going anyway," she glanced and prepared a much more fine first aid set.

That's the reason my mother insisted and half forced me to add the first aid set to my luggage.

In my childhood, I was an injured child anyway.

Moreover, it tends to conceal the injuries sustained, and I guess the memory of that time is still a cause of anxiety for the mother.

She kept saying that over and over again, "Because it hurts to watch," to me, who wouldn't tackle "I'm as fine as this" when I got hurt.

That's when I was still in the garden.

I was going to watch out for myself, but at the time, my body and consciousness were so much bigger that I couldn't control them any more than I do now.

I tried to move reflexively, my body didn't follow it, and as a result, I was often injured.

Besides, years of experience were disastrous and the idea of treating injuries had completely fallen out of me. Injury in me was a choice between putting up with it overnight and letting it heal naturally, or the clergyman healing it on his own. It's an asshole story now that I think about it. It was a totally brave brain. Embarrassing.

Also, apart from that, - there was confusion about the existence of the "mother".

I didn't know why they were so annoying to say or interfere, and... some verses were somehow overheard as heavily as when the "cleric" was telling me.

I think the word "be careful" is a word that tends to mahi me if I'm oversaid.

No, whatever the word is, there's probably that side to it. Because overdose is something that helps blunt the senses.

Anyway, when I was young, I didn't know how to add or subtract it, so I was pretty unscrupulous. Think back now about the cold sweat.

I forgot why I climbed, but sometimes when I jumped off a tree in the garden, I got a crack in my leg bone. It was tough then.

I endured pain all the time in the garden, I spent time without telling anyone, and when I got home, my mother found out about the swollen and purple-colored affected condition, and I had a bitter memory of being cried over and besides being scolded "why don't you tell me right away".

But... ever since then, I've weighed myself down. I simply didn't want to make her cry because her mother's tears were painful to watch.

There is, of course, no after tears on the Devil King's flashy face.

Not at all like a mother who is a nurse.

Instead, there was so much difference in cloud mud that it was even rude to compare.

Still, it somehow overlaps the appearance of the mother and the Demon King, making them feel softly strangely restless and weird.

(... I mean, whatever you think is weird)

Obviously, it's a weird situation.

The schematic of a former brave man to be treated by a former demon king, would be nothing but weird.

The nearby thin lips are tinted to pale pearls and slightly open.

I felt more and more odd wondering if that was just touching me.

Waiting for the Demon King to finish wrapping the bandage around his neck, the wrist wound wasn't that extensive, so this one is sticking a larger scratch pad with his own hands.

"... what is that? Don't you have to apply wound pills?

I briefly explained the tube of medicine I applied to my neck earlier, as it inquired into my hands.

"Uh... I don't know if I've ever used it... Wasn't it in elementary school? If you stick this on it, you don't have to apply medicine to heal it."

The Demon King took my wrist and stared intrigued. And

"Don't you paint it..."

Too bad it leaks pompous.

... Apparently he wanted to apply medication. I thanked my mother for putting a scratch pad in the emergency set that I was glad there was a pad.

"It hurts more to watch"

"... Huh?

I was surprised because the Demon King would say the same thing as his mother.

"- Instead... I told you it hurts more to watch..."

... Me?

"Me to you?... Did I say that?

I didn't remember.

But the Demon King was often injured, too, so I might have said it once or so. Obviously, it's the mother's buyout. It's kind of embarrassing.

"Does it hurt?"

"No... not so much... oh, something's close... close, get away"

The Demon King, who has been leaning his upper body this way for a long time, rubbed my ass and retreated on the bed.

(... that? This could be a bad situation, right?

It was nothing but a possibly nasty situation.