I really don't want to be reborn.

Eriri blushed instantly: "Ha—"

"The expression on his face when his best friend was taken away was so cute."

Kasumigaoka sat down next to Eriri: "Your mother is so cute."

The wife chuckled: "I think so too... If you could remove the 'you' from your last sentence, I would be even cuter."

What's with the tone she uses when she's trying to find a girlfriend for her daughter?

I'm a woman who has men who want me!

Kasumigaoka sighed, "...I think you're cute enough, really."

Eriri frowned in displeasure: "If you want another daughter, you can have another one. Why are you being so nice to her? I don't want a sister like Kasumigaoka."

"Really?"

"She's so annoying. She always likes to rub against things while sleeping at night and talks in her sleep, like a sow—it hurts!"

Kasumigaoka Utaha silently withdrew her foot: "What did you just say I looked like?"

Eriri sneered: "...There's nothing there."

"Eri, you're so unlovable. You were just as cute as Bridget when you were little, but now you're always breaking your mother's heart."

The lady held ten-year-old Bridget and complained in a low voice, "Your cousin is so unlovable. You're so much better."

Bridget looked over with a troubled expression.

“Dear Eriri, I hope that one day you will also feel sad because your daughter is not cute—just like I am now.”

"Then you'll probably have to wait until World War III, Mom."

When Kyosuke Kosaka returned with the warmed-up breakfast, he found that everyone except the black cat was staring at the big-screen TV.

"Little black cat, what are they looking at?"

The television seemed to be broadcasting a large concert live, with many shots focusing on the handsome middle-aged European man on stage. He was a conductor with stylish and decisive movements and his eyes slightly closed.

"Symphony, I don't know much about that."

“I understand. Actually, I don’t know much about it either—you have to believe me, Black Cat. I only know a little bit about those things.”

Black Cat doesn't believe this person.

She also knows a little bit about everything, but is an ordinary person with no talent whatsoever, while this man who claims to know only a little bit is an absolute genius, hiding it too well.

After seeing through part of his true nature, Black Cat stopped believing his often-repeated humble and pretty words.

After listening for a while, Kasumigaoka Utaha tugged at his sleeve: "I remember that person's name was Franz, right? He's a French conductor, and you have to book a year in advance to get a seat."

This is a real problem for Kyosuke Kosaka: "You want to travel to Europe? If we book now, what will happen to our entrance exams next year?"

"It's not that we necessarily have to go to Europe, it's just that I think this middle-aged man has a lot of style—Eri, don't you think?"

Eriri Sawamura stared at the TV, frowning in thought: "I just feel like I've seen this person somewhere before. I think I met her once when I was little, Mom?"

Mrs. Sawamura gave a vague reply but didn't say anything.

She certainly knew that man, or rather, she was very clear about the entanglement involved and the dishonorable role her husband played in it, which immediately made her feel a little irritated.

Although more than a decade has passed, the thought still stings me a little.

"Mom, I'm full, I'm going upstairs now."

"You just finished eating, so slow down."

The black cat put down its utensils and said, "I'm full too."

The woman smiled at her: "Go help her with the illustrations... Then I'll leave my daughter in the care of the little black cat."

The little black cat pounced on the stairs.

------

What does "truly fair-skinned" mean? Does Eriri's British relatives necessarily have to be truly fair-skinned?

Chapter Twenty-Nine: One day, this golden retriever will be tamed.

"Why listen to Palladio while painting? Shouldn't painting and writing novels both take place in a quiet environment?"

"Yes, that's why Sawamura kicked me out."

Sitting on the stairs, Kyosuke Kosaka seemed to be in a good mood, holding a drawing board and a pen in his hand, his gaze gently falling on the model.

The model is Bridget, a relative of the Sawamura family who came all the way from England. She recently lost to Sinon in the Akihabara Meruru cosplay contest by one vote.

A ten-year-old girl named Bridget Ifans, dressed in adorable winter clothes, is standing shyly in the hallway as a sketch model.

"Blonde hair is so beautiful..."

Muttering to himself, Kousaka Kyosuke stared at Bridget and frowned, "It's a pity this child is too well-behaved; her temperament and expression are nothing like that of Kitty."

Kasumigaoka Utaha, standing to the side, asked in confusion, "Kitty?"

"Of course I'm referring to Evangeline. The word Kitty can only refer to Evangeline."

Oh, anime/manga.

Kasumigaoka wasn't jealous at all, just a little wary: "Are you... a lolicon?"

"no--"

"Yeah, I kind of regret letting Sinon go to Nagasaki with you. My sister is fourteen, but she doesn't look much older than Bridget-chan—what about Sinon?"

He stopped sketching the little girl and looked helplessly at his jealous girlfriend: "Even if I had any ideas, could I beat your sister? I'd rather die!"

"But Sinon said you seem to be quite skilled—"

"Bridgetie! Change your position! Sit down and spread your legs, yes, please bite your lip."

He turned to ask for his opinion: "How is the little girl's posture?"

Shi Yu examined her for a moment, then nodded in agreement: "Hmm, she does look rather pitiful."

Kyosuke Kosaka successfully changed the subject, bringing it back to the original topic: "So I said that I actually know a little bit about drawing, and as a non-professional, I can draw while listening to music without any problem."

"Besides, what's wrong with Palladio? Although he was a Welsh composer, if you listen carefully, you can actually hear the flavor of The Count of Monte Cristo."

His dark eyes were imprinted with the pitiful posture of the little girl, and he uttered an elegiac voice: "The car was filled with colorful scraps of paper and flower balls, and in the Roman Forum, instead of the gloom and silence of death, there was a scene of jubilation and noisy revelry."

Palladio.

A duet for cello and violin.

An architect from the 16th-century Italian Renaissance.

Groups of masked people surged over, the carriages were filled with clowns in white clothes and white masks, comical characters in flowery clothes holding wooden swords, and men and women wearing half-masks.

Cheer up!

Close your eyes and use the paintbrush as a conductor's baton.

The Marquise, the Lesfies, the knights and the peasants, all screamed, fought, and made a show of themselves.

"Eggshells filled with flour, colorful paper, and flower balls flew everywhere, attacking people with their cold words and all sorts of throwable objects, without distinguishing between friend and foe, companion and stranger. No one got angry; everyone just laughed."

This is a description of the Roman Carnival.

"It captures the essence of Italians—madness, joy, and masks."

"Crazy and joyful are the main sources of inspiration!"

After he finished drawing, he turned around and asked, "By the way, what did your wife say to you just now?"

Kasumigaoka Utaha sighed, "She's worried sick about Eriri. She can't find a son-in-law, so she's even thinking of finding a girlfriend for her daughter."

"That's a very subtle way of putting it."

"They say she was well-behaved, gentle, and obedient when she was little, and she was also very good at being affectionate... But obviously, Eriri has completely gone astray as she grew up."

She paused, glanced at her boyfriend, and said, "Of course, when I visited your home, your mother said the same thing—that you were very well-behaved when you were little?"

"I'm very well-behaved? That's all just my mother's imagination, because I've basically never acted like a child in front of her since I was little."

Shi Yu suddenly blushed, but her eyes remained fixed: "Then do you often act cute and affectionate towards me?"

Kyosuke drawled, "Is that so...?"

“I don’t mind taking care of you, my boyfriend.”

can.

(That's a cool statement from Sakayanagi Arisu.)

The two adulterers brazenly displayed their affection in Sawamura's home, their lips pressed together, completely oblivious to the fact that Bridget was only ten years old.

The blonde little girl stood up, stunned, and let out a startled cry of "Ah!" She stood motionless, like an exclamation mark following the word "Ah."

Then she started covering her face.

"Woooo..."

The little girl covered her face with her hands, the gaps between her fingers wider than her eyes!

I'm so excited.

…………

Kasumigaoka Utaha is hesitating about the ending of her doujinshi.

That is, after the protagonist Nagato Yuki develops feelings, will she continue to stay on Earth—or rather, will she remain in everyday life?

The creator, Kasumigaoka Utaha, was pondering this question, while Sawamura Eriri asked him directly.

In the studio where there were only two people, Eriri Sawamura, wearing a loose green coat and black-rimmed glasses, asked her best friend's boyfriend, "If she were to return to a normal dating life, I always feel that this plot is very similar to those cheesy dramas with the theme of 'my boyfriend is an alien'."

"You seem to have a problem with cheesy TV dramas?"

"No, because I don't watch that genre at all."

Eriri pushed up her glasses: "I always felt that, given Kasumigaoka's way of thinking, she wouldn't write such a clichéd plot, after all, it's Kasumigaoka Utaha."

"Ms. Sawamura, please don't forget that your best friend is also a rather orthodox romance novelist."

Orthodoxy is often associated with clichés.