The Girl Who Spits Up Jewels (WN)

"Thank you. See you later."

"Absolutely!

Sputnik opened the door to the coffee shop as he heard Elsa's drop-off words and Soaran's well-behaved greeting again at the edge of his consciousness. The doorbell rings just like it did when it came, sending them out.

Noon is over but far from dusk. Soaran, who came out following the rest, put his hand over his forehead and looked up at the sky, and said, "Oh, good sunshine". Blue skies with few clouds are spreading. It's not funny to work quietly indoors when you say you're this good and cheerful, let's play somewhere for a while now before we go home - I remembered one thing I forgot to ask, thinking about that.

"But you"

"Yeah?"

"If the reason Magic Girl came to us was to back it up, didn't you need to do that much? Where did you have to tie me up, put Ku to sleep, and try to grab me?"

"Don't underestimate me or do what I do. It was troublesome to be suspected by the association and you, so if you were going to do it, you just had to do everything you could.... and then jealousy, I guess."

"Huh?

"If you get all that messed up, you're gonna want to tear us apart, too, as a lonely bachelor."

It is a frivolous motive.

"But well, suppose losers drool their heads (like this) like losers. If anything happens, contact the Witches Association of Cokedier, and I'll help you. I don't mind in the name of the Jewellery Chamber if I don't like to give your name, if you treat me like an exhibition, my men won't open it... I wonder if the Chamber of Commerce you belong to was a crew lol. I'm glad the clerk over there has so many cute kids. Though all I know is around Cokedier."

"Are you working with that in mind? Sexual harassment."

"I've been wearing a cat for four or six hours, even if it's a beast in my head."

And just a little bit, he hung his lips up and showed them. Some crop-like 'use of witch associations' face. The thin grin of a neutral, neat-faced young man was still quite picturesque.

but it still makes me think that the little hateful magic girl is so much more human. Is there blood coming through? That's probably why you're the real him. The face you threw away to stretch up in the Society of Witches Who Are All the Enemy.

"But you, okay?"

"What?

"I'm doing a magic girl who's harmless to the association. I thought you vowed to serve the Society through the Spirit."

Then Soaran...

Hihihi, he raised his voice and laughed.

"Iraja? She bought me too much."

I jokingly say that's all I'm good at making my exterior. But knowing that Sputnik would not laugh, he sighed, as he had noticed, as troubled again.

Look up at the sky. I just saw the blue with nothing, and there's nothing to see in the olive green though.

he said.

"She is. He was a good guy."

It was clear that the person the synonym referred to was not Iraja.

Someone in his world, now, who's gone.

"We never fell in love with each other, but he was a very good partner"

Look at the void with nothing, happy, and narrow your eyes.

Sputnik, looking at it, was remembering the words of the magic girl. "Me too, I used to make silver rings". Whatever history there was before people met, even the edges (eh) created by it are not necessarily fake. What the hell did he take that ring for, what did he think and what did he make it for? For what, - for who?

The bustling streets became even more colorful when some store even started on a time sale. Two laughing women take each child past their eyes. The crowd grows more obvious and is surrounded by a rushed atmosphere.

In the midst of the noise that was likely to be scratched off, but certainly, he said:

"I'm not human enough to be torn apart and laughed at."

Well, then, when I put my hand up, he turned his back on Sputnik. I had no word to promise to reunite, but I knew somewhere in my mind that I would see him again someday, so Sputnik gave it back, vaguely, like the middle of "aah" and "yeah".

The hindsight, flickering with raised hands, eventually wandered into the waves of men and disappeared.

I didn't lose sight of it, I guess it really disappeared.

"If it's always been like this, I still don't like it"

Crewe barked kickingly at the door closing as he made a noisy noise.

I feel the illusion of being bruised and laughed at in the doorbell aftertaste. She grabbed the apron hem and moved it up and down the bulk, attempting to relieve stress, but it didn't work, and her dissatisfaction increased even more.

I am a perfectly alert shopkeeper. I was injured in one of the magic girls cases and wondered if I would be adulterating for a while, but stretch under my nose early on back! Mostly, if I had time to dictate a woman, I wonder if I could pass on one of my thanksgiving words to Krew for seeing her. The old doctor ordered me to rest absolutely. The owner doesn't know how much nerve this one has lost.

I wouldn't even say that boys are clean, white, gentle and diligent. I just wonder if, at the very least, having a little more compassionate mind won't punish you.

Yes, he took a little more care of Krew, praised me, conveyed his gratitude, occasionally tender me, treated me as one lady, and, and...

- "Crewe. I've been thinking about you."

"That's right, Mr. Sputnik, that's not cool. That's cool. That's cool. But if Mr. Sputnik is really talking about it, don't you think it's cool as a coo? You're welcome."

"Um, hello"

"Hiwow!?

Suddenly a voice rang from behind him, Crewe was surprised by all the jumping up. Turning around, there stands a mailman who is somewhat familiar with you at some point.

"Aww, uh, hi there!

"I'm in the mail...... are you okay? Bug extermination or something?

"What? It's nothing!

One day they seemed unconsciously to keep slamming the wall with all their might. Her palms are red and swollen, and she is pulsating hot. Krew turned to the mailman youth again as he clasped his hands and dismissed Sputnik of paranoia.

"So, the mailman, what was it? It's okay, I'll take it."

"You'll have one letter. Express delivery."

Remove the envelope from the bag and confirm the Zhu seal, he says. It is never uncommon for mail to be sent by express mail to Sputnik jewellery stores. A call from the Chamber of Commerce that delivery was delayed, or a request from a customer to hasten tailoring - but this express didn't seem to be any of them. To the words that followed, Crewe blinked unexpectedly.

It's addressed to Mr. Crewe.

"What?"

I thought it was a joke, but I know very well that this mailman is not the kind of person who makes jokes. I asked back pointing to my face, wondering if it was a mistake.

"Is that me?

"Yes."

But he nodded naturally.

Surprised, but I'll take it his grip. The address was that of the Sputnik jewellery store, but the address did become her name. I lean my neck unexpectedly. Sometimes friends of the city send letters to her at play, but I can't believe they mail me by express mail.

Look for the sender's name and flip the envelope. and.

The name of the unexpected was there.

"Mr. Ilaja?

The name of the wizard I met the other day. When I called her name in a barbaric voice, this time the mailman gave her a stranger look.

"What will you do? If you don't remember, will you be denied receipt?"

"Yes, no. I'll take it. Thank you."

Thankfully, the mailman smiled and, as usual, greeted him "Then I did give it to you" and went back to work through the entrance door.

Being alone, Krew holds the letter and turns his mind to the sender. She missed capturing the hate magic girl and bowed her head to Sputnik and Krew in a disappointing manner. Besides, the failure to capture her meant that the fate of her thinker could also be said to have been confirmed.

Her figure was not so easily forgotten when she laughed at Crewe, who just asked her how she was doing without the words she could speak, with her blue cheeks, and still with her temperament, "I'll try to find some other way.

What can she do for you? I wondered, but in any case, if I opened it, I would know.

I looked for boxes containing stationery and peered under the counter - and I saw ashtrays further behind them, in the dark. At the same time, a small box that appears to have been opened once gets into my eyes. Apparently, I noticed a prank. I did it, and I took the paper cutter out of the box, aware that my cheeks were heavily distorted.

I opened it and came out with a few notes. Written in an unstable place, the handwriting is subtly trembling. She slowly followed with her eyes the text addressed to her, which began with "Dear Master Crewe," nothing else.

Dear Master Crewe,

This is Iraja, affiliated with the Witches Association Cokedier Branch. Thank you very much for your help the other day. Has the store owner been hurt better?

Today, I wanted to thank you the other day and then tell Mr. Crewe something, and I decided to write to you. I would like you to know a little sooner, and I am writing in the carriage of my return, so please forgive me for being a bad person on the wheel.

It's nothing more than what I want to tell you, it's about my boss, Soaran.

When I stopped at the Association Branch on the road back earlier, I was able to magically make a call with him who was being returned to Cokedier one foot away, but I was informed of one thing there.

Says the story of the establishment of the Rear Fiat branch has returned to blank paper.

With that, his story of the inauguration of the Liafiat branch manager also disappeared. Reflected on his magic tools, he was smiling bitterly at the loss of talk of promotion (though nominally), "unfortunately, I can't help it".

Really? And he said, "Maybe a relaxing, hidden life away from magic would have been nice." "Shall I take you with me then?"

I'm ashamed at that moment, I imagine in a peaceful land with no dispute between the wizards, just a day to brew him tea softly, etc., and it's as if the sight of it, no actually, is impossible, but still, it's as if I were his

Disturbed.

Suddenly he laughed, "I'm kidding," when I couldn't say anything. "That was an annoying story for you," he said. I panicked and told him how incredibly annoying it would be, and how honored it would be if it were, but I don't know how much he believed me. But seeing how desperate I was, he laughed at me across the tool. I'm sure my efforts made sense to him.

I don't know why the plan that was going so well suddenly went back to blank paper, but I was very happy to talk about it, at least for myself.

However, that doesn't make me no longer have a reason to catch Nagitan. For the future of the Witch Society, for the development of the Wizard, I intend to continue to do everything in my power to capture the Magic Girl Nagitan.

Then, one more thing.

Thank you for listening to my thoughts on him that day, beside my lying bed.

I was more than aware that it was a different, unfulfilled thought, so I had never told anyone this thought or anything, and I was determined to keep it a secret. but secrets are still burdensome, and sometimes I find that hard to tell no one.

But this time, it was a great, great pleasure and pleasure to talk to Mr. Crewe. Also, thank you for telling me that you can love me, that I am free to love you, that I spit something close to my weak voice. You're not wrong, you seem to have been pushed back and your heart is lighter.

Talking about love was such a fun thing, too.

It's just that my admirer is not him who forgot his beloved fiancée, but him who also includes the aspect of thinking of his fiancée.

I don't know if one day in the future there will be a day for him to turn around on me, but now I just hope I can wait around next to him and heal the wounds in his heart that have mourned his fiancée.

Really, thank you.

If only Mr. Crewe was good, then again, get in touch with us.

"... Mr. Ilaja"

Take your time and finish reading until the last signing. And she shrugged. Her name became like exhale.

I am serious and work enthusiastic, but the thoughts I have in my heart are very much the same as normal girls.

Let's write back. I thought so, and Crewe nodded deeply. The envelope and the note should have been in the room. If it's how to send distance mail, then Sputnik probably knows. Writing means that this is the one who took care of me, that I'm happy that my hopes seem to have come true, that I'm always welcome to talk to you, that I support Love Road - and much more.

"I knew you were a wizard, but there are good people."

I feel warm and softly hold the letter to my chest.

- And. At that time I thought, the doorbell rang behind my back.

"I'm home."

"I'm not a wizard. Some people don't have good personalities."

He shrugged low, and Sputnik, who came home, apparently overheard.

"Did you say something?"

"I didn't say it. Welcome back. Pum."

Turn that way. I don't need to bother to say things again that I have no reason to ask.

Placing the letter on the display shelf, he asks forward how he is in a bad mood, not looking at him.

"So, what did that woman do for you? Finally, Mr. Sputnik is also at the time of the payment of his annual contribution. Pum."

"Don't say bad things about it. It wasn't a big deal for coming all of a sudden."

I don't know how trustworthy that testimony was, but even if it was, not all his predispositions could be liquidated. "Restore your mood," he said as he remained pointing toward the day after tomorrow. That's just the explanation, there's no way I'm going to be able to fix my mood for eating a bastard - I tried to bite him that hard on selfish things, then.

In front of Crewe, the colour suddenly spread.

"What?"

Blink and stare at the colors. Its identity does not glow like a gem, but is equally vibrant, nestled with a sweet smell and luminosity - a bunch of flowers.

When I couldn't say anything to my surprise, a pleasant voice shook.

"A souvenir. At the florist, I've ordered instead of a new celebration"

Speaking of which, a few days ago, it was like a flower shop flyer mixed up in the mail and placed next to the cashier.

What I was given was a lovely bouquet, based on pink and white. Received with both arms, face to face, gentle scent reaches flutter nasal cavity. Some of the wrapped flowers were still in stump condition and seemed to be enjoyable for a while if you were careful with the management.

Where did the vase go? I looked up from the flower with that in mind, and Sputnik and I met each other. Niyanya laughing and looking at her about what's funny.

At any rate, I know you think it's boring again, but for once, I ask.

"... what is it?

But the word I returned was that unexpected for Crewe.

"'Every flower and ornament has been sumptuous in front of you, and I have no idea what to give you.'"

"Eh."

It is a half-bar reading, but I can't react to the accidental admiration put on, and I get stiff.

but there is no way this Sputnik would say such a word to her without meaning. Anyway, I'm just in the mood to see if there's anything behind it.

"Don't be glad you flattered me."

Your cheeks are loose.

Don't loosen up. Don't loosen up.

Try to lift your own cheeks with your free left hand and try to manage to get the broken look back. To her like that. Sputnik spread his arms with a lofty trick and still went on like this to mock her.

"I don't know how you can't convey my thoughts. I've been thinking about you for four or six hours."

"Heh, Ku won't be fooled that you lied weird. Coo's not gonna be a kid forever."

"I'm not a kid, Je."

"That's right. … I'll transfer it to flowers and vases."

Turn your back on Sputnik so you can hide your cheeks that you couldn't put back in the end. When I walked fast, I grabbed the knob of "Employee Only" and opened the door...

"Coo."

He is called by name and looks back with reflexes.

Sputnik narrowed his eyes and was just smiling.

"It suits you."

- Oh, no.

Though I know that, I can't stop my chest from beeping.

The scent of flowers, the letters that arrive and the ash eyes that make me laugh. Inside those aligned stores, Crewe graciously embraced the bouquet, remembering the unparalleled plumage.

"Thank you, thank you"

I stopped hiding a smile I couldn't erase no matter how, and slowly, I thanked you.

As my own thoughts, which have not yet arrived, will one day be passed on to him.

Thus Krew disappears into the door of "Employee Only" and only Sputnik is left in the store.

Because of the temperature in the store, Sputnik delays his thoughts as he bites to death a small stretch that boils out. I groaned about the sugary words and other things, probably because of the sweet flavor that still lingers in my mouth. It's been quite a while since then, but the sweetness of the chocolate can hardly disappear from the back of your throat.

"You don't eat sweet things like that."

Whimpering, he decides to write down 'I was forced to order sweetness from a soft shuddered magic girl' in today's work log. I lowered my back to the cashier's chair while thinking about making coffee when she got back, then.

I noticed an open letter, placed on the showcase.

What is that, and I leave my seat in surprise, and I walk away to take it away. The recipient recognized in the envelope was rarely an employee (Klu), not a shopkeeper (Sputnik), but I don't mind, and it's worse to leave it here just to read it.

The sender had become the witch who had visited here the other day. It was spelled across several sheets, and I read it diagonally. Some of the stories I heard earlier were spelled out with a change of perspective.

I wondered what it was for at first, but if I read it, I don't have any particularly brand new information. And stories that are likely to be harmful to Crewe, again. Sputnik put the note and envelope back like they were. If she finds out she saw a letter addressed to herself without permission, I'm sure she'll complain angrily. Seems like I've been wanting to use a little difficult language lately, and it's a good thing to get knowledge, but that's annoying.

However - thought-provoking. His own face, reflected in a tabletop mirror on a display shelf, had deep wrinkles engraved between his brows.

Would she say to this that she would like to write back? Regardless of the city, I would not have taught you how to send medium and long distance mail outside the city, as much as the city of Cokedier. If you were to give a reply, I'm sure you'd ask yourself how.

I don't mind sending out a letter. The spread of her friendship is also to be welcomed for her growth. The only problem is that the recipient of her letter is a wizard. That's what it is, and wouldn't the Witch Society be suspicious about her? Will the other side believe it when they say they are just friends? We need to work on something.

Think of that as a loose end, accidentally.

Earlier, I remembered my own vomited words.

I've been thinking about you for the last four or six hours.

I disputed that she was lying, the word.

Lies, je. Sputnik, thinking, put his hand in Slack's pocket.

One foreign object hit my finger. Pick it off with your finger and thumb and remove it, watering it down to the sunlight you plug in through the window. Returned earlier than the magic girl. That, black monochrome little. That was originally an eye, etc., I don't know unless they tell me.

Sputnik looks at it and sighs, well, okay. To the extent of postal service, there is any means of deception. If you really have a problem, you can ask for help with "Magic Girl" or blackmail.

Whatever it takes. - Even before, I have.

But.

"Lies, huh?"

Behind his tiny colorless eyes, Sputnik shrugged as he made headlines like the red he gave away.

"It's a strong lie, but it's not."

I laugh my throat uncontrollably at the emotions I cling to.

It's also something she doesn't need to know.

Shit.