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「Please do your best this time, Hero」01
nagka
After that night neither of them spoke of it, but she started coming by. He would be there most afternoons in the shade of the big tree, working oil into the one blade he kept like new. She would wave — a small, foolish, modern little wave — and he would look up from the sword and not quite smile, which from him was nearly the same thing. It was a strange place to feel at ease. She felt it anyway.
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