The Struggle of Returning to The Other World

Mr. O'Turand was present for dinner that day.

It was me imagining a long table with about thirty people lined up all the time, but it was unexpectedly a well-groomed dining experience that actually guided me. Even so, it is definitely not a luxury specification with a different dimension than the dining at my nostalgic fixer. Still, I sat down with Mr. O'Turand at a modest table wondering if there could be five or six of them at best.

If you do, a lot of forks, a knife, and a row of plates, a gorgeous table.

Ugh, I'm overwhelmed. I forgot the manners of the meal.

Nevertheless, even if not, does Mr O'Turand usually eat like this alone?

During the meal, Mr. O'Turand and I had a little conversation about a public discourse without other love.

It was mainly Mr O'Turand who told me the story.

In my witchy days, when I spent time with Mr. O'Turand, to draw words from him in silence, he said I'd just talked to him - and it was kind of strange that a reversed dinner of positions was temporary.

The only question I asked was how the owners of the fixers were informed of the matter.

Apparently you won't be able to get me home for a while... or hopefully someday... but in any case, this isn't how I can do it right now.

For one thing, he seems to have explained to me that he was to come to his relatives for a while at the convenience of the house.

Looks like Otuland offered to go to the restaurant to help someone else fill the hole I left out, but your husbands politely refused. I just got my eyeballs hot in your husband's message that if only I was safe, I'd be waiting for you to come back anytime.

"By the way, will you see your mouth for dinner?"

"Oh, yes, it's delicious. Thank you."

To Mr O'Turand's inquiry, I nodded.

"That's good. I remember that Haruka liked the food."

"Oh, so I went out of my way..."

Today's main dish is the so-called hamburger.

Indeed, I remember when I was a witch, when this dish first came out, I rejoiced like a child. Mr. O'Turand, who asked me to be present because I miss eating alone and had me hang out occasionally, apparently remembered such a trivial thing.

I don't know, really anymore.

I want both Mr Ars and Mr Otuland to be clear whether they are my enemies or allies.

I guess the fact is that it's neither, but I can hardly chew it up and accept it. Even if I know by reason, I don't feel comfortable. It becomes unstable.

You don't know what to do when you touch the other person's compassion.

"I'm sorry this happened to you."

"Oh, no."

Mr. Otuland bows his head as if he has seen through my mind.

"Lady Frahamti tends to judge things without consulting those around her. But that decision was never wrong. I think it would be teething for Master Hulka, but I would like you to bear with me now."

……

Of course I don't mind if I just endure it now.

So I can safely celebrate my day back to the original world.

But now that Lady Frahamti has been shown his full surroundings, the anxiety just swells as to whether he will truly be ready to return to the original world without anything. Lady Frahamti is only searching for the “best” for this country and him, not just moving to help me. That's already a certainty in me.

"At the very least, during our stay here, we will do our best to make it comfortable for Master Hulka. If you wish, please tell us what you want."

"Thank you, thank you"

I bowed my head in sleigh too.

Then a few days passed.

I even had time to spare as I rolled in my room bed.

I don't really have anything to do, so I just hang out like this in a room where the sun is shining or take an occasional stroll through a very large garden. By the way, when I stroll in the garden, the maid with me always follows me to the offering, so I'm sorry to let her hang out, and I end up returning to my room for the most part.

Uh, I'm free.

Human beings, I found out that if there's no such thing as a goal or a stakeout, it's something that gets interesting and corrupt.

You don't have to do anything. Rice comes out that day, you're given beautiful clothes, you can take a bath, you can give a bunk. A treatment not so different from the witch age, but there were still "goals" back then. That is, it is the great mission to correct the "temperament" and act as a witch.

The sense of crisis that my place would be nowhere in this world if I did it inspired me back then. So I did my best anyway. I just did what I was told to be stupid and honest, but I still even tried.

but not now. I really have nothing to do with it.

I rolled off the bed to the clap of sleeping heavily.

Apparently, he's gained too much momentum.

"Come on."

Groaning alone, I wake myself up at ease.

And the other way, on the couch. But then again I fell asleep.

Occasionally, I imagine when I return to the original world.

I'm sure you'll be back on the same day you were summoned here.

My righteous parents and friends aren't particularly worried about me because they don't exist, such as me, who's been missing for months, and even school is the way it always is. Of course, I haven't been absent all day.

Slightly stretched hair in this world is also back exactly to its pre-summons length. I must be working in a diner to wash dishes and getting just a little rough hands in place of a tight slip. It's been a long time since I've felt anything restless about the short skirt length of my personal clothes and uniforms that I put through my sleeves, but still quickly, become familiar with myself.

Only the loneliness of not being able to see your fixer husbands will drag them for a while.

I think about them all the time during school classes, on holidays, after school, and when I stuck in my own bed at night. I want to see you, I don't know how you're doing, but I wonder if you remember me once in a while. Anyway, that's what I think.

That uncluttered and serene emotion I once experienced inadvertently resurrected behind my chest.

(Speaking of which, I wonder how Noel is doing by now)

Lieing on my back on the couch, I looked at the ceiling blurry.

Close your eyes and you'll think of him with even more rigour than when we spent time together in the witch age.

When we get back to the original world - we'll start over again, the task of making Noel a memory.

But I'm sure it won't take as long this time as before.

One afternoon, a rare visitor came to me.

It's Mr. Ars.

"Hey, long time no see. How's it going?

He was still wearing the knight's uniform exactly today.

If you are a knight, it is not so unnatural to come to Mr. Otuland's house, which is also said to be one arm of the Chancellor. This one says he can't even get out of this room to Loc, but he hates Mr. Ars for being free to come and go.

"... nothing, normal"

As I was holding my knees on the couch and dropping my eyes on the math textbook, I dropped my eyes again on the formula at hand after sending a glimpse to Mr. Ars.

This textbook is, of course, a possession from the original world. I asked Mr. O'Turand to bring my student bag from the diner. Since I was running out of time, I thought I'd go back to my students and study for the exam. No, but when I was being made to work at a fixer, every day was so full that I didn't feel like opening a textbook.

"I'm still unconnected, Harka."

Mr. Ars walked into the room, smiling bitterly, as if not reluctantly. And on the couch - there's one couch in this room, so inevitably next to me - I sit down. I felt like telling you to just leave, so I shut up and watched Mr. Ars.

"I'm here today to see how you are. I'm worried you're doing well."

"I'm doing pretty well."

"No, let's talk some more"

I'm studying now.

Truth be told, I am no longer that angry with Mr. Ars. I mean, he's not the only one who originally said he had bad faith in me, and I know it's wrong to hit him with anger. but it kind of got on the board to take an unscrupulous attitude towards him, and it's even harder to deal with it now.

"What's a study? Wow, what is this? Awesome. Oh, is this a book?

But, you know, he doesn't seem to care as much as I say, so don't you mind?

"Would you mind not looking too closely at the textbooks? Because for this world, it's an auto part."

"Out, in different worlds. Harka, sometimes you use words you don't understand."

With that said, Mr. Ars pulled the textbook out of my hand.

Heh, something like that, I'm intrigued to see it in my textbook with a roaring voice I'm not sure about. Since my world's printing technique is not a ratio of this world, and the letters that are written will be as if Mr. Ars had never seen them, this textbook will appear odd to him anyway.

"Mr. Ars, you're more concerned about the book than you are about me."

"That's not true. Oh, I'm studying in such an amazing book, Halka, and suddenly I look like a talented woman."

And he is in good shape.

"By the way, is there something you want to tell me?

Mr. Ars asked me with a refreshing smile when he closed the textbook.

"What do you want to say...?

"I don't care about grudges or anything, specifically, if you want to say something to someone. I'm willing to do whatever I can to meet your request. Well, it's mundane to tell you to free yourself from this mansion."

Well, some spit out grudges, he said.

Then I want to spit it out like a mountain, but putting it into words is also a heavy labor. Besides, if you're going to cry to Mr. Ars, you should talk to him against the wall. Having drawn such a rude conclusion (for Mr. Ars), I shook my head (wearing it) with my mouth tied.

"Oh well, you can talk to me through Lord O'Turand..."

Mr. Ars, who accidentally glanced out the window, stepped himself out of the couch as surprised as he was.

I wonder what happened suddenly. I was curious, so I mimic him and come closer to the window, too.

From the window, I could just see the front entrance to the mansion.

One carriage stops at an approach as wide as a garden, from the gate to the front door.

It was - oh, my God, it was Noel who showed up from the carriage.

I breathed and accidentally snapped into the window.

Noel, it's Noel.

I can't even peek at his expression from here on out, but that standing is definitely his.

But... why is Noel in Mr. O'Turand's house?

He's a real badass, too.

Mr. Ars, peering through the window as well from behind me, exhaled as he was impressed.

Looks like he's been here a couple of times.

"Noel... here?

"Yes, after all, Harka hasn't been notified."

Even while I was talking to Mr. Ars, I nailed Noel's figure. He seemed to stay on the spot for a little while, but eventually walking straight to the front door, he quickly lost sight of him as he was.

"He's been secretly working to free you ever since he found out you were protected here."

Mr. Ars seemed to know the circumstances and told me like it was nothing.

- Noel is moving to let me go.

I didn't know that at all.

"Looks like you and Lady Frahamti tried to talk to each other in person, but each one of them was too subtle to go along with the conversation. I think it's probably to put pressure on Lord O'Turand."

Mr. Ars' words can be heard from somewhere far away.

Anyway, in my head, it was filled with things about Noel.

(That guy, only that guy, maybe he moves for me)

Before thanking me for how thankful I was, my chest became painful asexually for some reason, and I couldn't even stand up straight on the spot.

Put your hands on the window and eat your teeth off nagging.

Unexplained emotions overflow from the back of my chest.

It feels like a sad, unstoppable feeling. Suddenly burst into tears slipped down to her cheeks without time to stop.

"Harka, what's wrong?

It seemed that Mr. Ars had also eaten his face at my sudden change.

But even I'm surprised by myself. Why, suddenly, can't I stop crying in here? I can't believe I'm so thin and lonely that I feel like crying out louder.

This is the second time I've come to this world and cried.

The first time was when a freshly prepared meal was served at a restaurant that was greeted with quotes that wandered for two days.

The kindness of people and the warmth of the rice smudged me, and I stirred the meal in weeping.

Now, now. Not like that time again. An unspoken emotion sends tears from next to next.

I kept crying, bewildered by myself, without even speaking out.

Mr. Ars no longer said anything, just seemed to stand by his side in silence.

Eventually, tired of crying and crying just crying, Mr. Ars gave me a steamed towel.

I blurted and received it, wondering when he had prepared it for me.

With a reasonably warm towel in my sight, I apparently fell asleep as it was.

If you notice, the area is completely dark.

I was alone.

I wish the night had dawned soon, and I thought of that with my head like a clown.