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I am Blue, in Pain, and Fragile

DzŠǡ•™‡‡–Ǩǡ ǯ‹›‘•Š‹ ‹•ƒ‘Ǥdz ‘™–”—Ž›„‘ކ‘ˆЇ”–‘ pre•—‡ …ƒ”‡†ǤDz ǯƒŒ‘”‹‰‹’‘Ž‹–‹…ƒŽ•…‹‡…‡Ǥ‘—ǫdz Dz—•‹‡••ǡƒ…–—ƒŽŽ›Ǥdz Dz •‡‡Ǥ‘—ކ ƒ•›‘—”ƒ‡ǫdz The way she asked that really left no room for refusal. Dz—”‡Ǥƒ„ƒ–ƒǤdz Dz‡ŽŽǡ ‘™™‡ǯ˜‡Œ—•–‡–ǡ„—–’އƒ•‡†–‘‡‡–…Šƒǡƒ„ƒ–ƒ-—Ǥdz Akiyoshi bowed her head. Her bluntly cut shoulder-length hair swayed. I politely bowed my head in return. In most cases, when an unplanned event occurred, it was typically most advantageous just to play along. Dz‘ǡƒ„ƒ–ƒ-—ǡ…‘—ކ ƒ•›‘—”ˆ‹”•–ƒ‡ǫdz DzǥŠǤdz I faltered. It was an incredibly ordinary question, one which she was at no fault for asking. Though it was more or less a personal problem, the fact was that I hated my name. If I were some kind of supermodel, maybe I would have been proud of how flowery my name was. Or, on the other hand, if I were super burly and the direct opposite of the impression my name gave, that contradiction might have been a source of comedy. However, it was the fact that I was wholly nondescript and neither of those things that made me hesitate to share it. But then again, I was not the sort of person who was brave enough to ‹‰‘”‡•‘‡‘‡ǯ•“—‡•–‹‘Ǥ Dzǥƒ‡†‡ǥdz ˆ…‘—”•‡ǡ‘‡ǯ•‘™…‘’އš‡•‡ƒ–nothing to others. Dzƒ„ƒ–ƒƒ‡†‡-—ǥdz•Ї•‘—†‡†‘—–ǤDzTa as in tanbo and hata as in hatakeǫdz•Їƒ•‡†ǡ–”›‹‰–‘’‹†‘™–ЇƒŒ‹ˆ‘”›ƒ‡Ǥ DzŠǡ‘ǡhata like in hashikkoǤdz Akiyoshi pulled her cell phone out of her bag, tapped at it in a practiced fashion, and then tucked it back away. The strap of the bag dug into her shoulder. Dz‘–‡–ƒ‡Ǩdz Grinning, with eyes narrowed and teeth bared, she lifted her spoon and took a bite of her katsu curry as though it were some long-awaited treat. Realizing I had, for some reason, watched this entire sequence of

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