The dinner I made Crewe make was better than I thought.
Years ago, I had hired this out to cook only once when I had been able to afford this physically and mentally, but it was the first terrible thing I created, and the beast didn't lean on people either. - That's not a metaphor, but I left it in the kitchen for about two days, one rat, one rat, and no gathering.
Too harshly, the boulder. He also said, "... well, this is a gift, too," a consolation that wasn't consoling. It is certainly a story of the time. That's enough of a story from the past, though. I tried to leave the kitchen to half the feeling that I had trouble with one arm and one leg's inability, half the horrible things I saw, but what came out was an extremely normal omelet rice. I wondered strangely emotionally if it would grow to the point where I could make about one of my meals if I let it live alone for so long, but that doesn't fix it, and that's also why I'm old enough too - gossip.
After finishing her meal, she left the room with a nose mix saying, "You're going to bed," and after a while, she came back with a blanket for herself and a stuffed rabbit.
It's a hearty, limb-running thing. The black (button) imitating the left eye appeared to have loose clasp thread and was about to fall off, but there appeared to be no other scratches or dust. I couldn't even confirm where the cotton was leaking, apparently treating her with care.
And the stuffed animal also looked familiar to Sputnik.
"Oh, my God, you still have that"
"Don't say 'that'"
Bloat your cheeks and squeeze the rabbit in front of your chest.
That was a stuffed animal that I was selling in a corner of a certain city market when they were still traveling. It was bought by Sputnik to her, frequently dreamed of from past memories. - When you give, blow a little law nut.
And apparently she still believed in that magic snail, and she says this with a smile and a laugh.
"'Cause, Mr. Sputnik, when you sleep with this, you say you don't have a scary dream"
"That's a lie."
"Eh."
It is just a fake drug effect (placebo).
To the truth that had been lightly revealed over the years, Crewe opened his mouth as if it were an abalone.
"It's just a toy I won at one of those open-air dealers over there. It won't do any good."
"So, but. Because of this girl, I'm really not dreaming anymore, am I? Really..."
With a wolf in his arms, he re-hugs the raven in his arms. And the shock, or something black fell out of the raven. It jumps and rolls the floor several times and stops the movement against Sputnik's fingertips.
Pick it up. It was black. Seeing the plush face alternate with Sputnik's twinkle, Crewe raises his sad voice.
"Uh-oh, my goodness."
"Uh-huh?
"It's this kid's name. Ragnaroo."
What a cheap naming.
Though, when I thought about whether or not I could think of a name or something like that on this young lady's head, Crewe frowned dissatisfied, knowing what he was thinking from his expression.
"Didn't Mr. Sputnik put it on you?"
"Me?
Would you give yourself such a tasteless name?
I don't remember.
"Even if Mr. Sputnik doesn't remember, I do. Oh, my goodness."
Calling the name of the stuffed animal with the stuffed animal in his arms, moaning or sparing. Sputnik waved his right hand gently, saying it was troublesome to let him get in a bad mood.
"Ahh, ahh, okay, okay. I don't know if it is, but I'll fix it. So don't get annoyed."
"Is it true? Will you really fix it?"
"When this case is cleared,"
Answering so to Crewe's words as if to push in case, she remembered the magic girl or looked sad. He cares, but as for Sputnik, I hope he doesn't scatter negative air in someone else's (one) room. Nothing can be done where I have been worried about what is yet to come.
Sputnik shook his right hand gently to show.
"Whatever it is, it's the day after tomorrow. You don't seem to have a choice but to worry about it now. If you stay focused until the day and fall, you'll have no ex or kid."
"... yes, right"
Then she nodded one thing. Consent like telling yourself. At the same time, the tightly solidified eye area loosens slightly. For this matter, it doesn't seem like there's enough to worry about.
"Just go to sleep when I know..." I said, and the clock on my desk went into my eyes. It's still too early for bed. "... go to sleep and enjoy yourself."
"Yes."
I'll spell the clock lid and take the blanket that looks heavy and carry it away from her. You'll be able to hold your own stuffed animal. I was a little worried about where I put it, but it would be here to use it anyway, and in the end, I let it go on the bed.
Crewe watched the bed for a while holding the stuffed animal, but eventually had a loose smile on his face.
"Ugh."
"What. You disgusting smile."
"It's been a long time since I've been able to sleep in Mr. Sputnik's room. I don't have scary dreams because I'm with you, but I'm still glad I can be with someone."
I hold my cheeks in the hands of those who don't hold a stuffed animal, and I look at her laughing Ugh, and, uh, I wonder when I started taking another room properly for this. When I was still in my capacity as a traveler, I guess this was when I recovered enough to take care of myself around me, but it was way back in the day anyway. I didn't think I could remember.
As Krew climbed onto the bed, he turned this way to the back of the bed and laid down a stuffed animal around the center. You have a habit of leaning over to the edge and sleeping - thinking, pounding the empty front side and asking for Sputnik, laughing somewhat.
And here's what I told him.
"Yes, go ahead"
For a moment, I didn't understand what that action meant.
Late to observe the answer, but it is difficult to accept that it is the correct answer, with a finger on the forehead and a frown root. I asked for confirmation, but the voice was lower than I thought, and it became roaring.
"What, go ahead, what"
…… Mr. Sputnik, you're going to bed. "
"Next to you?
"You said you only had one bunk, didn't you, Mr. Sputnik?"
Sure, I did.
I accidentally leaked a sigh at the condition of Crewe, who did not doubt that his claim was supremely natural.
The trick of leaning his neck strangely also keeps the question in his head in his mouth, wondering if he would have seen it slip through somewhere and missed his education somewhat.
"Mr. Crewe. I'd like to ask you something."
"What's that weird salute?"
"Are you an idiot?
"Ba"
The question I bumped into on a direct ball seems to have shocked her enough. Sputnik turned his back and sat down in his chair faster than Krew, who had lost his word, returned to me. Elbow down, support your jaw, and say blurry.
"I'll sleep in a chair."
"Why?"
"I don't want to get smashed to death, nuts. You can use the bed."
Still, it's too early to sleep, though. I put my hand on the bookshelf of the study desk, trying to read even to the point where the sleeper gets to. And, there was something moving at the edge of my vision.
Turning to you concerned, Crewe, who got out of bed, was about to lift the blanket round again because of it. Looking at it wondering what to do, he starts walking loosely looking overlapping with it lifted. He reached the corner of the room as he was about to drag his hem, wrapped in a blanket with a razor and squatted.
I closed my leaning eyes and stopped moving, so I opened my mouth to ask if I could anymore.
"What are you doing?"
Then she raised her eyelids. I want to look serious,
"If Mr. Sputnik can't sleep, neither can I. It was me who pushed it. I'll be fine. I used to sleep on the floor without a duvet."
"So I told you not to laugh and masturbate.... Ok. I'm going to sleep later, so just go to sleep first."
"Yes."
"In bed."
The reply wasn't going to move that much, so I told him to push it just in case, and he still gave me an unexpected look. I'll point you to the bed with my jaw and say, "Please use the bed properly, Mr. Sputnik," and head towards the moving bed like a potato bug.
Eventually Sputnik put his gaze back on the bookshelf on the desk, making sure that the potato worm rolled onto the bed - or on the edge of the stirrup, but gave up no more way to do it. Well, what shall we read until she's quiet? Inserted on the bookshelf are books of jewelry knowledge, technical books on jewelry processing, notebooks that have approved (approved) the idea of design, and then.
"What does a wizard have to do with a jeweler?"
"... yeah?
I get sudden inquiries and look back over my shoulder. Krew, who stopped being a potato worm and half-baked on the bed, was turning this way and tilting his neck.
"What suddenly"
"When I was depressed, I remembered the morning. Mr. Soaran, he said that the fact that the Witch Society can be found in Liafiat City also has something to do with the Sputnik jewellery store. That, why?
I remember not needing it at all. I don't care how you say it - the explanation was gross and I accidentally got a wrinkle between my brows.
"It's Tsumaneye knowledge. Miscellaneous. It's nothing to know, just go to sleep."
"That's not true. Knowing your enemies, uh, you're, uh... anyway, knowing that there's a fight, it's amazing."
"What you're trying to say is," If you know your enemies and you know yourself, there won't be a hundred fights "?
That's it.
Idiot nodding with an extremely serious face. Is it an illusion that the expression of the beard of the ship's eyes can also be seen somewhere between them?
Nevertheless, she says something serious from the bottom of her heart, and I guess she still complains about bumps if she doesn't talk.
Take the clock you put on your desk, open it and check the time again. It was still early to sleep. Isn't it a bad idea to let her study just a little bit as an alternative to sleeping stories for her who doesn't have enough knowledge? Yes, convinced himself, and one nod, Sputnik hung his hand on the bookshelf again.