Tensei Oujo wa Kyou mo Hata o Tatakioru

I feel like I've been dreaming for a very long time.

Even so, I don't remember the content.

It's chaotic in my head like it's boiled down like a lager, and it doesn't work properly for me. Besides, dull pain constantly strikes me.

Besides, my throat hurts, and I feel sick.

It was a rare illness for me to be a healthy child. It fits in the sense of pulling out of distant memories, it's called a 'cold'.

I wore thin clothes all night, so naturally, it turns out.

Thoughts are always sumptuous and don't come together well when you try to think of something. As the sand castle is exposed to the waves, it dissolves from the edge into a salad.

Sleep while you're blurry, sleep again if you think you're awake. Repeat.

Sometimes I think there were signs of people beside me, but I don't remember very well.

When I woke up, it was dark, and there was no one in the room. I looked stupid, but I forced myself to close my eyes to delude the finesse of being alone in the world.

It seems that when you get sick, it doesn't change in other worlds.

How much ambiguous time have you spent not knowing if that's how it's a dream or a reality?

I woke up, remembering my thirst.

The interior is thin blurry and bright.

I thought it was dawn or dusk, but neither. The understated light source is a lantern on the pillow and it's dark outside visible from the gap in the curtain.

The area was surrounded by silence, and only the occasional sound of paper rubbing could be heard slightly louder.

Sounds like a certain rhythm. That sounds like someone on the pillow rolling through a book page. It's not an uncomfortable sound, it calms down.

I was the one who started sleeping slightly with Utout, but I get my consciousness back to sore throat.

When I coughed up small, there were signs that someone beside me would move.

Are you awake?

I didn't immediately think of whose voice that was.

It's not that low beauty doesn't sound familiar. However, I guess you decided your head was automatically different because you weren't supposed to be in this place.

Then whoever it is, it's not the same time because of the spiciness of the cough that stopped fitting. Physiological tears seep through and it's hard to tell by sight.

withstand the bitterness while turning your body sideways and round.

Then a big hand rubbed his back like a labor.

It wasn't surprising and offensive, even though I didn't know who it belonged to.

After a while the cough stops, the bitterness finally eases a little.

Returning to her leaning position, repeatedly breathing, she was wiped with tears that had fallen zero off her eyeballs.

"I'll help you, get your body up a little. You'd be thirsty."

When you leave yourself in the arm offered as you are told, a cushion is inserted into your back. Because I have a fever, or even if it just moved a little, it's dally.

When I was put back on my body and weighed well on the cushion, a sucking drink approached my mouth.

I'm sure I was thirsty, so I open my mouth.

I don't think he's like a young kid at the end of his head, but now he doesn't have the energy to fix it.

It was pleasant to feel a small amount of water poured down my swollen throat.

Drink water in several portions and exhale deeply where it calms down.

The sore throat is relieved, or the sleeper is back again.

With a groan, I see someone sitting in a chair on the pillow.

Put a suck and drink on the table and then squeeze the cloth dipped in the washer. Such a sense of life doesn't look great.

When the person who tried to put the squeezed cloth on my forehead moved, his eyes met with thin blue eyes, behind the frontal hair of a platinum blonde without a crust.

"... Tosa?

No, no, no, you can't do that. I'm an idiot.

I can scratch my own grunt, which has fallen from scratch.

A beautiful face, unlike the father of three children, opens his mouth without even a dust.

"What?"

They replied, and it was established that this man in front of them was his father.

I mean, this is...

"Yume...?

I nod in my head at my own voice, which plundered unreliably. Yeah, this is a dream.

It's a dream, although there are parts of me that I'm a little uncomfortable with, like, my father dreaming about getting thinner. It can't be anything but a dream.

The father in his dreams sighs with a shuddering face.

"Whatever, just get some sleep"

Pissed and slightly rampant, a cloth was placed on his forehead.

I felt like I was cold, but I'm sure it was my fault.

"Why, Tosha?

With my own dreams, casting is not surprising.

It's my dream, so I guess I'll have to ask myself, but I asked the father in front of me (tentatively).

Father cleverly jumps up a single eyebrow.

"I heard that only the sturdy fool's daughter had a fever. I'm here to see the stupid side."

Wrinkle between your brows silently.

What a waste of quality. I try to poison the success of my imagination, even though I don't have to reproduce it completely to this part.

I can't imagine a kind father.

At times like this, you could spoil me.... No, you're scared, Sole. I'm not your father.

I hear you've sheltered our guests.

"... to?

"I heard you sheltered guests from different worlds."

He spoke in a pale voice as he shook his dazzling father's imagination away from his head.

Listening back with a loose voice between them, they repeat similar words.

"I guess you should say you did well"

My father's voice was flat and I didn't think he was praised.

I think I've been told this line before, so are there mixed recollections then? I can't leave my boar daughter in there without a chance or something. I got angry when I remembered.

Stupid daughter, boar, on the dumb side.

I'd like to eat what you say to my daughter about her age, but I'm also talking to myself. You sound like an idiot barking at your own imagination. And I can't deny one thing.

"That girl is an important person borrowing from the rest of the world. You can't hurt me. Considering that point only, you were certainly right."

My father's low voice is comforting to my ears.

Keep dreaming, open your mouth.

"... I don't know if it's right or not. I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"That's a sweet way of thinking"

Hmm, and snorts like a fool.

I think someone said that dreams are a symbol of deep psychology, but was I also a desire to be scolded?

I laughed with a troubled face because I understand it wasn't actually praised.

"Right."

My father looks at me like that and frowns.

My father, whose faceless expression was the default, looked like he had chewed up a bitter bug. Rare. I mean, what do you care about my imagination?

"That's how you die before your parents do."

Hearing a bitter voice, I turned my eyes round.

I can't react to words that are too unexpected.

Left me unwittingly speechless, my father looks back in the direction of the door.

"Why don't you tell him too?"

Is anyone there?

I don't see anyone from me, but my father kept talking to me, regardless.

"How long are you going to be rolling in front of the door? The knights of the escort pity me. Come on in."

From the tone that speaks to you, is it your brother?

of my dreams, tilting my face worried about the next characters.

The door opens as I watch, holding on to the wet cloth that nearly slipped off my forehead.

He came in hesitant with a snack, a good man like a glossy rose, even in the darkness.

Usually clear as a tung, the beautiful man dropped his gaze at his feet with an unreliable look like a child before he was scolded.

There are more unlikely people out there than my father.

If this is my desire, how stupid,... while I am, how healthy.

As I laughed small, my dust and physiological tears dropped zero.

"... come on?

When I called, the phantom that looked like my mother raised her face as if it had been played.