𝕴 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝕼𝖚𝖆𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖍

But this time, instead of perching on the counter like usual, you stay close. You hug his back while he lifts the toilet seat. Your cheek’s pressed and nuzzling against his spine, arms wrapped around his waist, and he just lets it happen like he always does.

“You’re gonna watch me pee?” he asks calmly, already unzipping his pants.

“Mhm”.

“Not exactly glamorous”.

You shrug behind him. “It’s hot”.

That makes him huff. But he doesn’t argue.

You lean your head sideways, cheek pillowed against his hard back as you watch him pull his cock out. There’s something mind-melting about the routine of it—about how casual he is, how easily that thick, golden stream spills into the bowl. He doesn’t aim with two hands. Just one. His other hand rests on your arm while you hug him like a gigantic teddy bear.

And fuck he’s so sexy like this. Big, slow-moving, and warm with lots of patience. You can feel the heat of his piss rising with the steam from the bowl, the sound of it splashing echoing through the quiet bathroom. You watch the heavy head of his cock pulse at the end, even after the stream dies down, still a little damp and drippy.

He shakes it off. Not even looking down, like it’s nothing.

But you’re staring with your thighs rubbing together.

His tip is still glistening—smeared with the last remnants of his piss and your mind’s already sliding into the gutter, your pussy involuntarily flutters just thinking about what it’d feel like, all warm and sticky while pressing up between your folds.

“Kento…”

He hums.

“Can I have it…?”

He pauses. Not because he’s shocked. But because he’s making sure you really mean it. He looks down at you with those patient, attentive eyes—his sweet little wife, clinging to him like a sleepy parasite, with heavy lids and needy eyes and no shame whatsoever.

“I haven’t washed it yet,” he says.

“I know,” you breathe, lips parting with your body leaning forward a little.

He stares for a second longer. Then kisses your temple like he always does.

“Sink,” he murmurs to you.

You turn without hesitation with your chest fluttering. You brace your hands against the edge of the sink, the cool porcelain waking you a bit as you bent over and he moves behind you. You feel him hitch your shirt up—he doesn’t even bother taking your panties off, just tugs them aside with a knuckle, exposing your excited pussy to the air. And then—

Then you felt his cock lay heavy against your slit, damp and heavy, the swollen tip dragging through your folds like it belonged there—parting your messy pussy lips with every slow, sticky pass like he was teasing the hole he already knew was his.

“Oh my—,” you moan softly, instinctively wiggling your ass back at him for more. “Fuck Kento, feels good”.

It’s wet and warm, smeared with more than just your arousal. It’s sooo filthy but that’s why you love it so much. You can feel the residue of it—the faint scent of his morning piss, the heat of it lingering on your folds. Your clit throbs when his tip bumps it, and you swear you feel a droplet smear against you like he’s marking you with it.

He exhales through his nose behind you. Completely calm and unbothered. “You’re something else,” he murmurs, still moving his cock back and forth slowly between your now sticky folds, coating himself in the wetness blooming between your legs. “Getting off on this”.

You nod, your whole body twitching. “It’s dirty…”

“Mm. real dirty,” he agrees, now rubbing your messy clit with the wide head of his cock, letting the piss and your slick mix into a warm mess that makes your thighs shake just by the feeling of it. “You’re such a little perv, darling. You like that I didn’t clean it for you?”

You nod faster, mouth falling open into a low whimper. “Y—Yes, love it s’much Ken”.

He lets a quiet laugh slip out—disbelief and fondness—and presses his palm against your lower back to keep you balanced against the sink as his other hand cups your tit from behind, kneading it lazily through your shirt.

“Can’t believe this is how I’m starting my day,” he mutters with a chuckle. “Grinding my piss-covered cock on my wife’s sweet cunt”.

“Y-Your fault,” you whimper, hips bucking back against him, your clit catching perfectly every time he rocks forward. “You’re too sexy in the morning”.

That earns you another slow drag—more harder and rougher than before. Your pussy’s soaked now, cum sticking against his cockhead as it slides and rubs through your folds again and again. You’re panting, thighs shaking and your clit pulsing every time he nudges it with pressure.

He leans down, his lips brushing your ear.

“Want me to rub it on your little hole too?” he says calmly. “Spread your pussy open and make it messy down there too?”

You nod like you’re drunk. “Uh-huh…please!”

He pulls back just a little then spits into his hand and smears it over his length, already wet, already messy, and then slides the fat head back down—this time letting it kiss your entrance. He doesn’t push in. Just presses and circles it. Smearing more of his warmth and slick over your hole until it’s fluttering open and begging to be stuffed.

“Fuuck,” you whisper, gripping the sink like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

“You gonna cum just from this?” he asks, rubbing it harder and applying more pressure, spreading everything everywhere. “From daddy’s messy cock on your pussy?”

You moan so loud you’re sure the neighbors heard it. He kisses your temple again. “You’re unreal, baby”.

And he keeps going—rubbing it slow and nasty, letting you rut back against him like a dog in heat. His free hand tweaks your nipple while the other keeps you steady, and your thighs are clenching, your whole body arching for more of your husband.

You cum like that—crying his name while pressing your face into your arm, trembling as he indulgently smears your cream right back on himself.

And when it’s over, when you’re still bent over and panting, he leans down and kisses your lips.

“Happy wife,” he murmurs, tucking himself away with a quiet zip.

“Happy life,” you finish weakly, dizzy with bliss.

He brings you a warm towel after.

He didn’t snap. It’s so much worse than that. At least in the eyes of the arrogant boy who got bested by, what he assumed to be a grade two curse because of how pudgy and stupid it looked. The thing that caught him lacking looked like a fucking blob fish that struggled with crippling anxiety, how the hell was he supposed to know that it could mess with timeof all things? 

One moment he’s laughing at the way it looks, the next he’s in the complete dark. 

That was the first time he’s smiled in months, by the way. 

“Huh?” Satoru huffs out, trying to look around before eventually realizing that he has a blindfold on, and rips it off in annoyance. “Don’t tell me that thing knocked me out,” he begins to grumble to himself. It’d explain why he had a blindfold on… but then he realized he was in a completely different outfit, one that you didn’t put on someone who was currently in rest and recovery. 

He highly doubts Shoko would even change him, anyway, at least not for this. 

“Oh hey, you’re home.” 

Home? 

He looks around, and all he knows is this isn’t the dorm he’s continued to stay in after graduation, purely due to the fact that he was already out on missions for up to 18 hours each day. Not to mention that the penthouse he was currently standing in was too clean to be his. Too warm. Way too comfortable.

You already knew there was something deeply off in those first few seconds of looking into his eyes. This wasn’t your husband— this was the hot mess you met and still fell in love with all those years ago. 

You tilt your head to the side, more curious than cautious, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he snorts, literally the worst liar ever. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know,” you hum, holding eye contact long enough to leave him feeling a bit unsettled. “You tell me.”

First of all, who the fuck do you think you are speaking to him like that?

Second, who even are you?

Something big and shiny on your finger catches his attention, then he looks at his own hand that has an equally shiny band around his ring finger. 

Fuck.

“Honey–”

Satoru physically cringes at the pet name, giving himself away once again. 

“I’m not Satoru,” he blurts out, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “I mean, I am, but I’m not— FUCK– some fuckin’ curse blasted me into the future, and I need to go back.”

Well, that was quick. He’s always quick to fold under pressure when it comes to you— it’s something he’s unaware of though, as he fights back the urge to start pacing back and forth. 

There’s a light smack from your mouth when you go to open it, only for the words to never even come, let alone die out. Nothing about this surprises you. This is not the craziest thing that’s happened since you’ve met Satoru. 

Your lips thin into a smile as you take a deep breath, knowing you had no choice but to accept your new circumstances. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He raises a brow at how you just… accepted it.

“Yeah… I believe it.” You respond flatly, then point at him, casually motioning your finger up and down. “Your attitude kinda sucked when we first met.”

He grimaces, taken aback by the statement. “No, it doesn’t–”

“You also liked to argue, too.”

“Okay— whatever,” he waves a dismissive hand, not at all interested in hearing what else you had to say. At this point, it just sounded like you wanted to shit on him, something he actually doesn’t have any fucking time for right now. “You’re a sorcerer… right?” 

“No.” 

“Christ.” Satoru sighs, turning on his heel. “You’re fuckin’ useless—“

You scoff, more humored than offended. “Where are you going?” 

“To figure this shit out!” he snaps, throwing his arms out as he turns around to face you. 

“Okay,” you shrug, still way too calm for Satoru’s liking, as it pisses him off even more. “If you don’t get it all figured out tonight, you can always come back. We have a guest room.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” He huffs out a bitter laugh, as if that was the dumbest suggestion he’s ever heard. “I appreciate the offer.” 

– 

“Yaga” Satoru storms into the principal’s office, ignoring all his cursed stuffed animals, but noticing what he’s done with his hair. “What the fuck happened to you?”

The principal's brows pinch together, wishing he had locked the door to his office. Satoru fucked with him enough today by showing up to a meeting 20 minutes late with some sugary frap in his hand, and now he’s storming into his office, insulting him out of nowhere. 

“Actually, nevemind.” Satoru waves a hand to stop him from even answering his question, reminding himself not to get sidetracked right now. “Look, I need your help. I got sent into the future by some curse, and I need to get back.”

Yaga inhales sharply. “What are you even talking about?”

“Exactly what I just said! I’m from 2009! Not whatever age I am now—”

“31.”

Satoru throws up a little in his mouth. “Send me back.” 

Yaga lets out a long, disappointed sigh. It’s always something with Satoru. Always. Having to deal with the younger version of him was a painful reminder that he’s been dealing with his bullshit for well over a decade now. Nothing surprises him anymore.  

“Let me see if some other windows would be willing to help look through the library. I’m sure you’ll be able to find information on what kind of curse you got hit with.”

“Thank you,” Satoru groans, still not very pleased by everyone’s reactions thus far, but grateful that he can at least get somewhere with Yaga… unlike a certain somebody. 

Hours later, he finds himself at the school’s dusty, unkept library. It looks worse than it originally looked before he walked in. Books sprawled everywhere. Research papers were scattered all over the tables and floor. Assistants running around in every direction, more than half of them terrified at the total 180 in Satoru’s attitude. 

“W-we can’t find anything,” Ijichi says, too old to be acting this scared in Satoru’s opinion. 

He hums, elbows still resting on his knees, not bothering to sit up. “Hey, Ijichi?”

Ijichi gulped loudly, managing to annoy the world’s strongest sorcerer even more. “...Yes?” 

“How are you even more incompetent now than you were before?”

“I tried my best! I swear!”

“Well, it’s not good enough— I’m still here!” he snaps at the nervous wreck of a man. Thank fucking god Ijichi listened to him and just became a window. He sucks at it too, but at least it’s easier for this dumbass to avoid death. “God— what the fuck am I supposed to do now?!”

“This is just one of the libraries, there’s more! And some in Kyoto too, that we’ll have the Kyoto branch check out.”

“Do whatever you need to do. I’m just letting you know right now that if I'm not back by tomorrow, you better watch the fuck out.”

The threat is followed by complete dead silence, aside from a certain someone's breath catching in horror.

“Me?!” Ijichi squeaks out.

The sorcerer doesn’t bother answering that and instead walks away, grumbling something insulting under his breath, just in complete and utter disbelief over how Ijichi truly hasn’t changed. 

—

You figured your husband would eventually come back, so you set some food aside for him, and now you’re sitting at the dinner table, trying not to laugh at the pout on his face as he picks at his dinner with the chopsticks in his hand. 

“Is the food good?”

“Sure.”

“I can warm that up for you, if you want?” you ask, barely trying to hide your amusement. 

“No thanks,” he curtly responds before shoving another piece of karaage into his mouth. He’s known to have a sweet tooth, but chicken karaage’s probably his favorite food, savory wise. You almost want to tell him that he’s allowed to enjoy food even if his day hasn’t gone the way he had planned. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped staring.” 

Your lips twitch, threatening to break out into a fit of laughter. “Right, sorry.”

“Mommy…? Is Daddy home yet?” 

Oh great. As if the day couldn’t get any worse— now there’s a child.

“Yeah,” you respond in a tentative tone, shooting Satoru a look that screams ‘behave or else’, and even though you are currently a stranger to him, it intimidates him enough to behave for the time being. 

A little girl, no older than 4 years old, walks into the kitchen and Satoru’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head upon seeing his daughter. It’s pretty obvious she’s his with her baby blue eyes and stark white hair. Her facial features are entirely yours, though. It’s strange to see.

“Hey… kiddo—” he awkwardly says, not really sure how to address the little girl. You clear your throat, mouthing ‘princess’ when he looks at you, because your daughter also happens to have her dad’s attitude. “I mean princess.”

It’s hilarious how unnatural it sounds right now when he was the one who started calling her that the moment you two took her home from the hospital. 

“You pomis to wead bedtime stowie,” she starts to pout— same exact way he does.

“Did I?” He gives the girl a sympathetic look, albeit fake. 

“Yeah,” she frowns as she walks up to you, giving him the world’s nastiest side eye. “Liar.”

Why is that the one word she’s able to enunciate correctly? She didn’t even stutter.

“Yeah— I was a little busy with work today,” he murmurs, as if she knew what that even meant. With the glare she was giving him, he doubted she’d even care if he broke down what work and the importance of it was. “Maybe mommy can read to you tonight?”

Sai wasn’t having that. 

Satoru spent the end of his night reading her favorite book to her. Multiple times. He almost asked if it was some form of punishment for not upholding a promise he didn’t technically make himself, but decided against it in fear that she’d make him read it one more time. Sai fell asleep… eventually. Despite there being no way to prove it, he knows that the little girl forced herself to stay up out of pure spite. 

But still, he finds himself smiling as he thinks about his nightmare of a future, not wiping it off quickly enough when you lightly knock on the guest bedroom door.

“Here’s some jammys for the night.” You smile back as you walk up and hand him a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt, both neatly folded up. “Figured you wouldn’t want to sleep in your work clothes.”

“Oh uh— thanks.” He clears his throat and forces out a laugh, pushing through the embarrassment of getting caught smiling to himself. 

You’re giving him that look again. The one that’s mixed with amusement and a bit of fondness, where you look like you’re about to start making fun of him, but never do. Satoru would rather die than admit it makes him nervous. 

“What?” 

There’s a small pause as your smile grows. “Do you like your kid?”

“She’s weird.”

“Yeah, no— you wouldn’t believe who she got that from.”

“Fuck off.” A laugh easily slips through his lips this time, unable to stay serious at the thought of her inheriting even just a quarter of the traits he had as a child. Then it grows quiet again as he realizes she probably has the freedom to be a kid. 

He wants to ask, but you beat him to it with a statement that answered the question he had in mind. 

“Your duties as her father don’t end just because you managed to time travel by the way,” you say playfully, though he knows you’re being dead serious. 

He can only guess what other horrors that little girl will subject him to for the rest of his time here. To put it simply, she’s not afraid of Dad. 

For once, somebody doesn’t look at him as a god to fear. 

—

It’s been over a month. 

Ijichi and the rest of the windows are just as useless as they were when they first started trying to find answers. All that’s changed is that Nanami knows, and doesn’t seem to be too thrilled about the fact that he is now involved.

But still, the search for the fix to his predicament continues, turning every library and warehouse upside down. That’s all they could really do— aside from asking the elders for assistance of some sort. 

Over his dead body. 

Knowing they’d most likely do more harm than good, everyone’s agreed to keep this all a little secret from them.

So all that’s left to do, or rather forced to do, is to be patient. It’s hard. Satoru doesn’t do patient— he’s the type to snap his fingers and have a solution magically appear right before his eyes. You can only imagine how difficult it’s been for him to accept that he can’t immediately get what he wants right now.

Not to mention the fact that he had to continue working throughout all of this, but that wasn’t very surprising. 

Now, what was surprising was learning that he has his weekends completely to himself. If anything, he assumed he’d just work more as time went on, but no. Turns out he threatened to kill the higher-ups if they didn’t let him have that when you two got married. 

Satoru looks over your body once. 

Twice. 

He totally understands his future self. 

He looks again for a third time, and you just so conveniently turn around, showing off your cute, frilly little apron covered in flour streaks. 

It’s Sunday— you’ve been baking sweet treats all morning, and he wishes he had been a little nicer to you. Especially a couple of days ago when he snapped at you. 

You had found him sitting alone on the balcony, head in his hands from yet another day of failure. 

“Hey… any good news?”

“No,” he said impatiently. “If there was, I wouldn’t fucking be here right now.” 

“Fair enough.” Your voice took a dip as you looked at the ground, allowing yourself to feel a little hurt for a moment before trying to lift the mood again. “Well… me and Sai stopped by your favorite bakery and got you the cookies you like if you wanted some—“

“No— no,” Satoru cut you off. “I don’t want your fucking cookies. I don’t want to do a family movie night where all we watch is Ms. Rachel. I don’t want to read some book about a mouse trying to become a fucking painter over and over again. I don’t want ANY of it. I want to fucking go home— what part about that do you not get?”

You tried to stand as straight as possible despite your shoulders growing heavier, pushing against the small frown threatening to carve itself across your face. You forgot how mean he used to be, at least during that first year of dating him. It only stings more because the man you married would never raise his voice like that, and you remind yourself that this isn’t him.

After a long pause, he looked up at you and immediately felt guilt wash over him.

“I didn’t mean that,” he tried to meet your eyes as he began to backtrack. “I’m sorry, I just— fuck. I didn’t mean any of that—”

“It’s fine.” You forced yourself to look at him again and smile. “I’ll uh… give you some space.”

The one thing about Satoru is that he doesn’t apologize. Like ever. So, one could only imagine how painfully awkward it was later that night when he knocked on your bedroom door to say he was sorry. It didn’t help that you were in a paper-thin silk slip, skin glistening from the lotion you rubbed all over it— he spent half his time trying not to stare at your tits. Had you been anyone else, it wouldn’t have felt as genuine. 

But thank fuck he apologized, you probably would’ve spent all day ignoring him. 

You raise a brow, and his cheeks start to pink. “What are you staring at?” 

“Nothing, you just–” he awkwardly gestures at your entire body, “there’s flour all over you.” 

It almost sounds like he’s offended by it. He kind of is. You keep your foot on his fucking neck— he doesn’t even know why he came out here. 

“Oh, right— 'cause messes have always bothered you,” you lean over the island ever so slightly. The pink on his cheeks darkens as you do, unable to control his eyes from drifting down to your cleavage. And while he’s not exactly ashamed of looking— you are his wife after all— he can’t help but be a little flustered. 

He’s always had a thing for milfs.

Especially when said milf is talking about messes— he knows a couple of places he could make a mess on right now. 

“Nah,” he rests his elbows on the marble counter as a playful grin stretches across his face. “This is nothing compared to how I like it.”  

You tilt your head, a small laugh escaping you as you rest your chin over your palm, curious to see where this conversation will get you. 

“How do you like it?” you ask, as if you didn’t already know how filthy and depraved he could get when he’s alone in a room with you. 

And you fucking miss that. 

He opens his mouth to respond. 

Then you hear your daughter whimpering about waking up alone. It’s nothing new, and you revert back to mom mode as you watch her turn the corner and waddle towards you. 

Satoru, on the other hand, is not used to this. The slightly bruised laugh he lets out just barely masks his desire to fucking scream. What a fucking cockblock— no wonder you only have one kid. 

His kid completely ignores his existence as she wraps herself around your leg, continuing to whimper despite no actual tears streaming down her cheeks. “I had a nightmawh.”

Meanwhile, there’s Satoru, who has yet to wake up from his very own nightmare. He internally sighs, then attempts to grab her attention because it doesn’t feel very good watching her give it all to you. “You wanna share a muffin with daddy?”

It’s starting to sound more natural.

“Y-yeah,” she sniffles. 

Minutes later, she’s sitting on his lap, absolutely demolishing the blueberry muffin they ended up splitting— a complete 180. He couldn’t be mad, even if he tried. 

His little girl was a dream. 

—

Month two. Ijichi is still as useless as ever. He stopped complaining to you about him, though. You noticed he doesn’t talk about going back to his original timeline all that much anymore.

It’s not like Satoru’s given up hope, he’s just more present, as if he finally realized that wallowing in self-pity wasn’t going to send him back any faster. He’s unknowingly more like his future self— laid back, not a care in the world. 

He’s even sleeping in for once. It’s not that hard though when Sai’s gone for the day. She seemed to care more about getting the hell out of the house with her grandparents than greeting her father a good morning. You didn’t push her to, either— figuring Satoru needed the sleep. He always does. 

It’s too bad that his phone started blowing up at around 10:00 am. Unfortunately for you, he left his phone in the living room, leaving you to get up and grab it since the master bedroom was the closest room to it. With how thick the walls are, you doubt he’d even hear it.

With a long sigh, you rise from bed, rubbing the sleep off your eyes as you snatch the stupid phone off the coffee table. 

The snores coming from Satoru reach your ears before you even open the door. You have to hold back a laugh as you walk in and take a look at him. Face down, his long limbs sprawled over the bed, messy white hair sticking out in all directions. 

You reach out and place a gentle hand on his shoulder, surprised infinity is off. 

“Toru?” He stirs a bit, and you cautiously attempt to wake him up again. “Toru— someone’s been trying to call you for the past 10 minutes now.”

He lifts his head, eyes still sealed shut as he murmurs, “Who?” 

“Uhh,” you look at the screen, unsure of who it might be. “Your contact name for them is nerd.” 

You know it’s not Ijichi because his contact name is “courage 🐶” in his phone. Someone else must've annoyed Satoru for him to change yet another contact. 

Satoru shoves his head back into the pillow and groans before taking the phone off your hands.

It’s Nanami. He, of all people, should know now is not the time to be blowing up his phone right now because he is fucking sleeping. It’s a Saturday for fucks sake. 

Satoru sighs and accepts the call, grumbling into the phone. “What?”

Nanami cuts straight to the chase, as he would rather be doing anything else right now. 

“How long are you planning on hiding your secret from the higher-ups?” he asks in a clipped tone. 

Satoru rubs his eyes, too tired to return the same sense of urgency his friend seems to have at the moment. “Forever.”

“Don’t give me that.” A vein pops up on the side of the usually stoic man’s forehead. “They asked me about you this morning. They know something’s up. I can’t keep covering for you if it means my own safety’s on the line.”

“You really haven’t changed, have you?” It’s more of a statement than a question.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean—“

“You’ll be fine,” Satoru cuts him off. “They’re always up my ass anyway. I doubt they’re even suspicious. They just don’t know how to mind their own fuckin’ business. Seriously. You’re worrying over nothing right now.”

“I swear to god Gojo, if you—“

“Kay’ good night.” 

Click.

Nanami’s probably fuming right now, but he’ll get over it. Satoru wanted to enjoy this. Lying in a comfy bed, surrounded by nothing but peace and quiet. He closes his eyes and stretches a bit, then rests his hands behind his head. 

He would’ve forgotten that you were still sitting at the edge of the bed had you not lightly cleared your throat. One eye opens to look at you, then closes. The last thing he wants to do is share the reason why Nanami had been blowing up his phone all morning. 

“Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not here.” You cross your arms. “What was that all about?” 

“Nothin’,” he easily says. “Just Nanami being Nanami— the guy’s a fuckin’ stickler for no reason.” 

“That’s a little rude, no?” you chastise him. 

“So is waking me up.” 

“Sai wakes you up all the time, though.”

“Sai’s a ball of sunshine,” he says, quickly coming to her defense. “Not a grown man with depression— where is she by the way?” 

“She’s spending the afternoon with my parents.” 

Both eyes open this time, and stay open. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

“No way,” you wave a hand. “I need a break, too.” 

“Yeah, no— I’m sure,” he agrees, feeling flustered all the sudden. 

And Satoru being Satoru, he doesn’t do a very good job of hiding it, once again forgetting that you can read him better than anyone else can.

You smile, scooching closer, “You good there?” 

“Yeah, m’fine,” he murmurs, trying not to shift around too much.

“I can take care of that, you know.” 

“What?” 

“That.” You look down at the boner he’s been trying to hide since finding out it’s just you two here.

“That’s not—“ His brain straight up short-circuits. “You don’t think that’s weird?” 

“No.” You continue to inch forward, getting closer to him. “Do you think it’s weird?”

“No— never,” he shakes his head, answering a little too fast. “Fuck— won’t future me get mad?” 

“Not at all. The most he’d probably do is make me show him what we did.” 

“Make you show him?” he repeats after you in disbelief. 

“Is that a problem?” 

“No, that’s— that’s fuckin’ hot.” 

Minutes later, you’re leaning forward with your hand wrapped around his base, and his breath catches as you start to slowly pump his cock. 

“Feel good?” 

His lids lower as he hums, “yeah— keep going.”

You lean forward, letting a string of spit fall from your lips to the tip of his cock, letting it mix with the precum that was already beading down from it. The wet sounds of you stroking him begin to grow, making the heat in between your legs start to pool.

“Can I sit on it?” You look up at him, batting your lashes as you innocently ask. 

“Please,” he blurts out, just about ready to start begging you to.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just as eager as him after all the weeks spent pretending like you don’t notice the way he stares at you. Lustfully. The slip you’re wearing happens to be extra short today, so you forego stripping down and practically pounce on him. Your soaked panties grazing over his rock-hard length as you straddle him, letting yourself get comfortable while Satoru grows impatient. 

His hands find themselves planted on your hips and pull you down. A low groan escapes him as he grinds you against him. “God— fuck me. Please.”

“Well, since you’re being so sweet—”

You reach down, hooking a finger into the fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side. He’s already lining himself up with your entrance, teasing your hole as he runs his tip through your folds, collecting all the slick. His lips part as he watches in awe at how damn wet you are. 

His head tips back as you lower yourself, groaning and rambling to himself as if you weren’t there to hear it all. 

"Fuck. You’re so hot.” His words come out strained as he watches you start to take him inch by inch, slowly working yourself open. “So fuckin’ tight, too.” 

“Mmm— forgot how big you are.” Your voice is all soft and breathy from the fullness, nails slowly digging into his abs as you bottom out.

It takes a minute to adjust— it has been 3 months after all. But then you finally roll your hips, and Satoru almost starts singing praises at how good you are at that—  lifting your hips all the way up and throwing them back, taking all of him. 

"Fuck yeah– just like that," he breathes, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. "Feels so fucking good."

You murmur back a measly, “kay,” already dizzy from the stretch. You’re able to keep up the pace on your own for a bit, until you feel his grip on you tighten and the sounds of skin slapping against his start to grow as he starts to help you out. 

You wouldn’t exactly call it help though, not when he ended up doing all the work— holding you steady while he practically bounces you on his cock, pulling more and more moans out of you as the head of his cock repeatedly kissed your sweet spot with almost no effort. 

"You take it so good," he groans, pupils blown wide as he starts to feel himself lose control, snapping his hips up a little harder than the last. He wants more, he always wants more— so he pulls you forward and pulls your straps down far enough for your tits to spill out. "Perfect fuckin’ tits. Been thinking about these for weeks."

You let out a surprised gasp as he pops a nipple in his mouth with no warning. You fully believe him with the way he starts sucking and swirling and flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud, all while snapping his hips up harder. 

He pulls back with a pop, looking up at you for approval. “Was that good?”

“Mhm.” There’s a fucked out expression on your face as you weakly nod. “Harder.”

“You want me to fuck you harder?”

“Yeah.” 

Something in him snaps. Eager to please you, he flips you over and folds you underneath him— grabbing the back of your knees and pinning them to your chest so he can drive his cock into you deeper. 

“Better?”

He drives his hips forward again, knocking the air out of your lungs. “God— yes.”

“I can’t— fuck— can’t believe you’re all mine, can’t believe I get to have you,” he starts to ramble as the sounds of him absolutely pounding into you fill the room. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect— all of you.” 

He crashes his lips into yours— the kiss is messy, powered by hunger. Satoru’s always been overwhelming, but it’s been years since it’s been this emotionally intense. He fucks you like he needs you, like he’s been waiting for you all his life. 

Your walls begin to squeeze and flutter around his cock, pulling another groan out of him. “You close?”

“Yeah,” you whine, feeling the pressure begin to coil. “Keep going.”

He’s close too, you can tell by how sloppy his thrusts have grown, no longer trying to control himself as he starts chasing after both of your releases. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck and fucks you faster, harder— balls slapping against your ass with each lewd wet squelch. 

Your orgasm hits you hard after one particularly rough thrust. Scratching at his back as a cry tears through you, and it only goes straight to his dick, not even realizing just how overstimulated you are from the way he drills into you. 

“Fuck.” It’s just one word that comes out of his mouth after realizing how hard he’s about to fucking cum. He bites into your shoulder as his balls start to tighten, squeezing his eyes shut as he braces himself. 

When it happens, it’s a lot. He shoves himself deep inside of you, unaware of all the weight he puts on you as hot spurts of cum begin to flood your walls. Slowly grinding against you, letting your tight pussy milk the rest of him. 

You’re wrecked by the end of it. You both are— lids tired and heavy, bodies sore and out of breath.

And in the end, you just let yourself fall asleep, unaware of the soft kiss pressed against your temple as he watched you.

—

It’s month three, and Satoru doesn’t want to go back. 

What was the point? It’s not like he had anyone or anything to go back to. Jujutsu Society never crumbled from him getting shot into the future. Would it really be that bad if he just never went back and continued on with his life from here?

He hasn’t uttered a word about it out loud, but the way he completely stopped asking Yaga and Ijichi for updates was telling of where he was at mentally.  

Acceptance. 

He likes his life here. 

You’ve come to your own conclusion after these last three months.

No wonder why he was so hot and cold when you were trying to get to know him. Satoru got a little taste of genuine comfort, only for it to be ripped away from him sometime before you two actually met. It explains all the times you wondered why he even tried with you, despite being too emotionally inept to even be in a relationship. He probably went through the beginning of your relationship thinking you could disappear at any second. 

With that being said, he can’t stay here. As much as you’d love to continue being the source of comfort for this version of Satoru, he needs to experience the last year he spent alone before meeting you. He needs to feel cautious around you. He needs to try and fail at opening up a handful of times before getting comfortable with the idea of truly being vulnerable with a person. Getting over that element of fear he had towards getting close to others is what made him a husband and father— he couldn’t just skip that part of his life. 

You have no idea how you’re going to tell him that, though. You’re not one to kick a sick puppy, especially one as cute as him. He’s so happy here with you and Sai that the thought of doing so makes your chest ache. 

He’s having a tea party with Sai right now, limbs way too long to sit in the little stool she pulled up for him to sit in. He drinks imaginary tea from the plastic pink cup she hands him, and your chest aches some more. You force yourself to look away before the tears start. 

You’d do the next 11 years all over again if you could.

“Hey, Honey?” Satoru calls out to you.

There’s a pause before you whip your head around— it’s been months since he’s called you that. There’s nothing but warmth and fondness in his eyes as his gaze meets yours. “Why is Nanami’s number saved under ‘nerd’ in my phone?”

He’s back.

“I don’t know,” you laugh, despite the tear falling down your cheek. “You tell me.”

—

Satoru didn’t want to believe it when everything around him went dark once again. It’s not until his feet touch the ground with a soft thud and he finds himself back in his messy, cold dorm when reality slapped him across the face.

Something between a sob and a gut-wrenching scream rips from his throat. Grabbing the round shades he had hoped he’d never have to fucking wear again, he rips them off his face and sends it crashing into the wall, breaking into a hundred little pieces. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t give himself a chance to even breathe or think before raising his hand and releasing a purple orb with just a flick of his fingers. 

Impulsive. Reckless. Deadly. 

Satoru was fucking devastated. 

Nobody knew what triggered him that night. All they knew was that the east wing of the school looked like it had been hit by an asteroid by the time he calmed down. He didn’t speak to anyone for a good two weeks following the incident. Everyone wants to think he was lucky the explosion didn’t have any casualties, but then they remembered who he was: Satoru fucking Gojo. 

God’s don’t get punished, nor do natural disasters— it’s hard to tell which one he was at this point. 

One Year Later

“If it’s that small of a curse, why are you sending me there?” Satoru continues to argue with one of the new managers over the phone. 

It wasn’t that small of a curse. It was a grade one. But still, given the sorcerer’s title as a special grade, he was overqualified for the job. 

“I’m sorry, we just don’t have anyone available to take on the case at the moment.” The young woman continues to apologize over the phone. “I think we might have a grade 3 available for the job. I- I can check—”

“Save it.” Satoru cuts her off. He wasn’t that heartless to push the case off to some 15 year old. That’s exactly how Haibara died. “Send me the address.” 

The mission was nothing short of an inconvenience for him. He liked a challenge when exorcising curses, and the damn thing didn’t even put up a fucking fight. He traveled 2 hours to get here just for that? Unbelievable. 

He wasn’t ready to leave and sit on a train for another 2 hours just yet, so he decided to walk around the town for a bit. 

It was a cute place, a little quiet. Kinda boring. That’s never a bad thing, though. Lots of mom and pop shops, a few coffee shops scattered around, one of which he decided to try. A little sugar’s always good, at least to him. 

The smell of vanilla and roasted coffee beans hit him as he walked into the place. There was a decent amount of customers inside. Not too much to feel crowded, but enough to stay busy. He keeps his eyes on the menu the entire time. The line moves fast, and he figures out what he wants just in time. 

“And what can I get started for you today?”

His eyes are still on the screen, reading the item off the menu.

“Can I get a white chocolate mocha frappuccino, with an extra pump of…” his words die out, and his eyes widen as he finally looks at the girl taking his order. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You laugh at the way this stranger loses his train of thought. “Extra pump of white chocolate syrup?”

“Yeah.” He exhales, unable to rip his eye off you as you write the words down on the plastic cup with a sharpie. 

“Name for the order?”

“Go– Satoru,” he corrects himself. “It’s Satoru.”

He’s a little awkward, but you still find him quite charming and smile. “Alright, Satoru. Your order should be ready in about 10 minutes.”

“Awesome. Thanks,” he nods rather pathetically, then goes to sit in an empty corner of the shop with only one thought in mind: 

He has 10 minutes to come up with what to say to get your number. 

One, tall and lanky with white hair and eyes, you were sure the most beautiful blue ever. And white eyelashes that complimented his eye color, your eyes averted to the man next to him, the complete opposite. Long black hair with dark eyes to match.

You smiled and walked over to the counter which housed all sorts of things for smoking, and other small sex items. “Sounds good, it looks good here.” You murmured with a genuine smile happy to see something new in town.

The white-haired man smirked and drummed his long slender fingers against the counter. “Thank you, anything that catches your eye?” He asked, locking his gaze with yours with a smirk.

You nodded and pointed to the rack of dildos behind you. “A few of them, I’m so happy to see a new shop especially one that caters to this in such a conservative city.” You voiced your appreciation with a little sultry touch, seeing men like them is also a rare sighting here.

Both men smirked now glancing at each other and sharing some sort of silent conversation. “It was a bitch to get it set up, these folks need to use one or two toys.” You giggled and looked at the white-haired man, his eyes undressing you practically along with the other one.

“My name is Satoru, I’m the owner and this is my trusty employee and best friend, Suguru.”

You gave them your name with a shy smile, usually, you barely paid any man attention due to them mostly being close to twenty years older or more than you, you noted they both oozed with charm and something sinister swimming under their gaze.

“Such a pretty name for a pretty girl,” Suguru spoke up eyeing you.

Another fit of giggles erupted from your pink glossy lips. “Thank you, you two are the most handsome men that have graced this town along with a sex store.”

It was Suguru who spoke again, his lips curled into a smile as well. “So it’s like a two-in-one package.” He murmured.

You leaned forward giving them a good view of your tits with a matching smile. “I’ve always wondered how two would fit into one.” You teased looking down at the small pipe that resembled a pair of lips painted a deep red.

Satrou’s own lips split almost as he stared at you, no one really has come in besides the few dudes wanting a fleshlight because as they put it their wives never wanted to put out, and now here, these two have a sweet little thing in front of them.

“Very easily with just a little bit of lubrication and coaxing, you could do it,” Suguru purred putting his elbows on the glass leaning forward to catch a whiff of your strawberry perfume, the sweet smell made his mouth water almost. Moving here proved to seem a good idea.

A gush of slickness coated your panties as you gazed into Suguru’s eyes laying your hand over his with a smile so sweet that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to taste your mouth or pussy first, his cock throbbed behind the counter. “You’re right, if I need any help I’ll let you know.”

Before Satoru could add anything else the door rang, and an older gentleman walked in with his hands stuffed in his pockets. You stepped away with a wink and headed back to the wall of dildos scanning the plastic for a larger toy, which happened to be a dark pink filled with glitter.

His words echoed in your head ‘a little bit of lubrication and coaxing, you could do it.’ You grabbed it and headed over to the lube section finding a lube quickly before turning back to the counter to see the older man walking out.

“What if I gave you both a shoutout on my page about your new store?” You asked in a soft tone setting the items on the counter, again they shared a silent conversation and nodded as Suguru rang up your things and bagged them.

Satoru slid your card back into your palm running his slender fingers over your flesh leaving behind a trail of hot desire that crackled like a fireplace. “We’d love that, let me make a counteroffer,” This time they both leaned into your personal space with wicked smirks.

More times than not you were not this bold, but something about the men gave you a boost of confidence you held onto for dear life even though you let people see your naked body this was different, almost more intimate.

“You let us watch your little video and we’ll give you half off today,” Satoru murmured reaching his hand and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip collecting the pink glittery gloss that you smeared earlier.

Your heart thumped fast in your chest watching him with a smirk. “You got a deal, and maybe soon you both will show me just how well I can coax two into one hole.” You scooped up the bag and walked out of the shop with a smile and ruined panties.

Both men looked at the username you wrote down on the receipt and they knew that they were going to be in for a show.

Later that evening you sat on your bed dressed in the new lingerie that came in the mail earlier in the morning, however, this time felt a bit different knowing that Satoru and Suguru could join anytime and you’d have no idea, their nickname could be anything really.

You scanned the new toy you laid out along with the lube bottle and wondered how it would feel for them to stretch you out instead of the silicone dildo, your brain fizzled out almost at the thought of being sandwiched between them.

Satrou’s blue eyes reminded you of the crystal clear waters that lapped over each other on a hidden away beach, and Suguru’s reminded you of melted dark chocolate, you swore you could almost taste the salt from the water and the aroma from the food.

You sighed heavily and flopped on your bed playing with the frilly edge of your one piece glancing at the camera working up the nerves to start the live, usually, you’d like to record and edit then post but tonight would be a special treat.

Once you were in the middle of your bed surrounded by pastel shades of pink and purple you kneeled next to the toys and turned the camera on pointing it at your face, per the requests from your subscribers, they loved you in soft colors and see-through outfits.

Comments started to roll in the moment everyone was alerted you were online, you cupped your tits and settled down letting your heels rest on your ass. “Hello everyone, sorry it’s been a whole week since I uploaded anything so I wanted to give a little treat, and I’m here to give a shoutout to the two very sexy men who helped me out today.”

On the other side of the screen, Satoru and Suguru sat on their couch tuned into your live stream. “Holy shit, next time she comes in I have an idea,” Suguru murmured, his eyes fixated on the screen watching you rip open the thick plastic.

Little did he or Satoru know that you were actually prepping yourself for them because you planned to invite them over and give them a show that neither will ever forget when you gained more confidence to do so, you gasped when you held the toy in your hand looking at the camera.

They both watched with throbbing cocks as you quickly got up to wash it off before setting back down with an open mouth you swirled your tongue around the head before pushing more of it into your mouth staring at the red dot. “Do you think she swallows or spits?” Satoru asked.

“Swallow for sure, but I’d love to see my load on that pretty face of hers,” Suguru replied with a smirk grabbing the laptop and placing it on his knees as he leaned back letting his friend get a better view as well, this time you were deep throating it with your eyes closed.

You gagged a little bit before removing the toy holding it as you popped the top of the lube and squirted some on the tip before smearing the substance up and down the shaft as you sat up on your knees placing the toy between your legs.

They watched as you slowly slid the head inside you, your mouth dropped open at the feeling of something thick trying to stretch you out. “I’ve always wanted to try double penetration, two cocks splitting me wide open and the cum dribbling out sounds so hot.”

Satoru and Suguru exchanged a look and a smirk before they turned back to the computer watching you drop down more on the toy, your hands gripping a bunny plushie with a pink bow on one ear, your face screwed up in pleasure as you let out a high pitched whine.

Finally, the dildo bottomed out leaving you stuffed full as you rocked back and forth a few times getting used to the sensation of it, everyone could hear the wet suctioning as you fucked the toy faster moaning like a porn star, your eyes fluttered shut thinking about the two men.

Satoru would be on the bottom and Suguru would be behind you as they worked their cocks in and out of your pussy taking turns before both of them slowly would bottom out, you whined thinking about it triggering your orgasm and leaving a creamy ring around the toy’s shaft.

You opened your eyes and read the comments that poured in, some wishing you would have done more foreplay but none of them stuck out to you. “I’m sorry it was fast-paced and had no foreplay, I was super wet to begin with, I have those two on my mind. See you soon.”

Satoru focused on your pout and how soft your lip felt under his thumb as he stared at you through the screen wishing he could reach in it and cup your cheek, the laptop went dark when you ended the video blowing a kiss to the camera.

“She was thinking about us, next time we should leave a comment. Keep her guessing, she was reading them wondering if we were going to say something.” Suguru commented shutting the laptop down and growing excited by the second for whenever you would come in next.

It was only four days after you live-streamed when you stepped back into Satoru’s shop again, a husky vanilla scented the air from the incense on the empty front counter, you sighed and pouted a bit looking around. The color scheme was done in white and gold hues.

They blended perfectly together you thought wandering around the small area, the place before this was a tiny cafe but Satoru added a bit more to it, including the dressing rooms, his office, and a little room that could seat two to watch an adult movie.

A sign taped to the door read: “You make a mess you clean it.”

“Come back for more toys?” Suguru asked stepping out from the back room, the doorframe held beads instead of a door clacked together as he leaned against the counter watching you, his coffee eyes taking in your outfit of the day.

You hummed and walked over to him. “I sure did, but this time I’m looking for more lingerie, and I need a little help I think. What color do you think would fit best?”

Suguru slid his hand over yours turning it so he could intertwine his fingers with yours. “Spin for me, pretty girl.” He demanded in a soft tone, you let him turn you around slowly feeling heat creep up your neck and pool in your lower belly.

“Satoru!” He called out turning his head to glance at the beads before looking at you again with a predatory smile, a second later Satoru ducked out from the backroom seeing you his lips split with a grin.

He hummed his response and looked at his friend then you. “She wants to know what color suits her the best, what do you think?” Suguru asked spinning you once more and hearing them both whistle.

“I would say either white or red, your skin color is the most beautiful I have ever seen before.”

His eyes burned a hole in you it felt like, the gaze intense. “I think I actually have a set that would do well, follow me, princess,” Satoru said stepping away from behind the counter to take hold of your hand before guiding you to the lingerie racks in the corner next to the fitting rooms.

“This one is probably one of my favorites and I can only imagine how you’d look in it,” Satoru whispered bending down, his lips barely caressing the shell of your ear as he stood behind you grabbing the first piece on the rack barely brushing against you.

It was a simple open teddy body harness that showcased your tits and a tiny string that barely covered your pussy. You took it from his hands, being this close to him everything in your brain went haywire, and you didn’t trust your voice not to crack.

His slender fingers brushed along your neck fixing your necklace. “Want to try it on?” He asked opening the door next to him, part of you wanted to invite him inside to help but you kept that on the backburner gripping the hanger and stepping inside the small room.

“I’ll call out if I need help with something, thank you.” You said with a wink shutting and locking the door before shedding your clothes to slip on the new outfit, you could still feel him behind you, his musky cologne invading your nose and any common sense you had melted.

As you twirled yourself in front of the mirror Satoru and Suguru sat in the office staring at the computer, the screen showing you in full HD thanks to the camera they set up the morning after your live in hopes that you’d come back which admittedly look longer than they liked.

Suguru leaned back patting his friend's knee with a smirk. “I think you were right 'Toru, she looks fucking divine in that.” He muttered zooming in on your tits, your nipples perky from the AC that blasted down on you from the ceiling.

“I don’t know if I want to rip it off her with my teeth or hands,” Satoru replied adjusting his dick in his pants and wondering how’d you taste, he could hear your moans and cries play like a record in his brain as you changed back into your clothes none the wiser what was happening.

But if they had to take a bet both men would say you wouldn’t mind it one bit. A few minutes later you approached the counter with a few new outfits and some more toys, something different than what you’d use, a collar and two leashes hoping they’d get the hint.

“How did you like the teddy?” Satoru asked ringing you up while Suguru bagged everything just like last time, however, his hand hovered above the collar with a raised eyebrow while silently nudging his friend's foot, blue eyes saw the new item and looked at you.

“It fit perfectly, you’re right the color does compliment me the best, you’re very attuned to that stuff I see.” You replied taking the bag from Suguru with a shy smile, both of them were a bit intimidating and stood over six feet tall with smiles that screamed sinister.

They both smiled again and nodded. “I am, you should see what else I’m attuned to,” Satoru said taking a page out of your book with a wink.

“Maybe someday, see you two later.” You said blowing them a kiss and walking out of the shop, the warm sticky air made it hard to breathe along with the two sexy as sin men who watched you.

Monday morning came quickly which meant going back to your day job, but when night fell you turned into someone else, a personal pornstar is what some of your subscribers would say but they didn’t know you worked at the local library.

It wasn’t an awful job, minus the people who came in and didn’t understand that phone calls should be moved outside and where everyone else can hear, and usually, you just pushed the cart filled with books to put them up where they belonged which was very easy.

Until you didn’t have your step-stool to help reach the top but you attempted to by standing on your tip toes feeling the bottom hem of your shirt roll up exposing a sliver of your back when you felt someone’s fingertips brush along your spine.

You whirled around ready to give them an earful but clamped your mouth shut seeing Satoru looming over you with a white stick hanging from his mouth, his hair wet and shaggy as he grinned down at you. “Don’t scare me like that again!” You whined pushing on his chest.

He chuckled and moved the sucker to the other side of his mouth, his cheek puffed up from the candy. “I didn’t mean too sweetheart, I was trying to pull your shirt down.”

You huffed a bit and rolled your eyes basking in his attention, he was for sure the sexiest man to ever walk into the library. “Where’s your buddy at?” You asked looking around for the other man.

“He’s back at the shop, why? Did you want him here too?” Satoru teased setting one hand above your head leaning closer, the sweet smell of his lollipop surrounded you both and thankfully no one would be able to see what was happening being in the corner of books no one checked out.

You shrugged in an attempt to show that you didn’t care when you actually did and stared back at him feeling your panties dampen at the sight of him, tall and lanky you wanted to know how his cock would feel or taste inside your pussy and mouth, is it as pretty as him?

“What flavor is that?” You asked curiously following the movement of his tongue that peeked out.

Satoru grabbed the white stick pulling it from his mouth while using his free hand to grab your chin gently pulling your lips apart watching you stick your tongue out immediately. “Good girl.” He praised in a whisper sliding the lollipop in your mouth.

Your fingers curled around his arm and your eyes fluttered shut as you closed your lips while you sucked on the lollipop, an explosion of peaches and cream filled your mouth. The man in front of you was walking sex doing this in such a public place not caring if someone saw.

A small moan slipped past the candy as you sucked it harder opening your mouth a bit to show him swirling your tongue around it while opening your eyes to see him licking his lips while leaning in closer. “How does it taste?” Satoru asked ghosting his fingers over your jaw and neck igniting a fire deep between your legs.

“Sweet and creamy,” You murmured taking the lollipop from your mouth to transfer it to his with a smirk as you ran your open palm up and down his bicep giving it a squeeze feeling him flex under your touch while he took a step closer.

He cupped your cheek pressing himself against you a little bit. “Just how I think you’d taste. That was a sexy show you put on the other night, I can’t wait to see what you do next. But I must know whose going to use that collar.”

“Hopefully you and Suguru soon.” You replied standing on your tippy toes to kiss him on his cheek before walking off with your cart and books and a pounding heartbeat.

Satoru watched your ass as you swished your hips from side to side a bit more than what you needed to do to give him a show while you walked to the next aisle as he followed. “How soon is soon?” He asked with a slight pout leaning against the end of the bookshelf.

“Depends,” You replied glancing at him as you slid a book between another one before picking up the next one seeing that it belonged on the top shelf, “mind helping me out please?” You asked.

He grabbed the book and stood behind you once more pressing his throbbing dick against your ass as he put it away before grabbing another one titled 69 Sex Tips and flipping through the pages showing you the book landing on the position chapter with figures showing the sex positions.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the three people in a circle doing 69 on each other. “We could do rock paper scissors to see who gets to taste your sweet pussy first, the other night Suguru and I jerked each other off to you, his cock would fit so nicely inside of you.”

Satoru watched your mouth form a small o as you moved your gaze from the book to turn your head and stare at him. “You- oh my God.” You groaned grasping at the sucker stick and pulling it from his mouth to pop it back in yours.

There was nothing left to say but to walk away again with the peach candy saturating your taste buds with Satoru and the sweet flavor, his dirty whispers swirled around in your head until after your shift and when you got home to make dinner and crawl into bed.

All throughout the course of a few months, Satoru and Suguru would pop into the library to talk to you, sometimes they’d come by themselves and whisper filthy things in your ear, especially Suguru.

He always felt warm like he was running a fever, so at your break times when he would drop in you’d lead him to the breakroom and curl up on the couch reading to each other, most of the time it was erotica with light touching to leave you wanting more.

“And she sucked his cock, her tongue swiping on the underside before closing her lips around the leaky head and hollowing her cheeks to take him deeper…do you want to do that to us, my pretty girl?” Suguru asked one Thursday afternoon as you sat in his lap.

Your eyes were glued to the pages listening to his hypnotic voice that whispered dark and husky in your ear, his free hand was wrapped around your waist keeping you still as you rolled your hips a bit to alleviate the pressure that built between your legs.

“Suguru.” You whined resting your head on his shoulder wanting nothing more than to strip naked and let him ravage you on the couch not caring if one of your co-workers walked in.

He closed the book and held you closer to him as you both panted almost in sync. “I know, I know your pussy wants to be played with.” Surugu whispered letting you straddle him to run your fingers through his long hair.

“Friday night I promise to give you and Satoru a little show, so be sure to video chat me before I start recording for my page.”

He smiled and stoked your cheek letting his fingers trail down your throat to your tits tracing the underside of your bra and then your nipple thanks to the thin fabric. “For our favorite girl, we’ll do anything, we can’t wait to see it.” He murmured cupping the back of your neck.

During the times they visited you, they both stroked the fire building between you three until one of you would break down and take what you really wanted. Suguru grabbed a grape from the small bowl you packed in your lunch box and held it in front of your mouth.

He watched you part your lips letting him place the fruit on your tongue and close your lips around his finger sucking a bit as he played with your tongue depressing it before slowly sliding it a bit further making you gag.

Suguru pulled out with a smirk as he watched you eat it before helping you up and off the couch. “Tomorrow evening at seven I’ll give you a video call, be ready pretty girl.”

The next night you sat on your bed with your phone in hand watching it ring, it was well past seven, and still nothing from either Satoru or Suguru, anger pumped through your veins hot and heavy. While neither of them promised it still hurt that they couldn’t keep up on a simple plan.

You jabbed your manicured finger on the red button hanging up before tossing your phone on the mattress before getting up wondering what the hell was happening and why they didn’t call, part of you wanted to call once more before storming to their shop to give them an ass chewing.

The loud ringer of your phone startled you a bit as you wrestled for it under the covers grabbing it to see Suguru video-calling you. Quickly you hit answer and frowned staring at him and Satoru who pressed his head against his friends.

“Before anything is said, we’re sorry. Time slipped from our hands and a group of women came in looking for a bunch of bachelorette party things.” Satoru said first with a small pout seeing the annoyance on your face.

You huffed and held one of your plushies close to your chest staring at them. “Really? Did you both give them extra attention?” You asked trying to keep the jealousy out of your tone but it was very evident which only excited the men on the other end of the phone.

They both looked at each other first then you. “No we didn’t pretty, I promise. They were all over Suguru and they were even touching his hair but we tried to get them out sooner.”

For some reason it angered you more knowing other women were touching them, nothing was even set in stone about whatever was going on between you three. “They were, huh? I don’t blame them.” You muttered looking anywhere but the screen.

You felt like a little kid not getting the sucker they wanted before bedtime, there was no reason for it truly but the idea of another woman touching them had your blood turning into fire. “Are you at home pretty girl?” Suguru asked watching you pout.

“Yes. Where else would I be?” You shot back rolling your eyes.

Satoru hissed like a cat and mimicked one scratching at the air. “Put the claws away kitten, you’re the only customer that gets special attention, do you want us to swing by and cheer you up?” He asked.

Little did you know that they already had a bag packed with toys and items from the shop ready to go whenever you gave your answer. “How are you two going to cheer me up?”

“We have our ways, see you soon kitty cat,” Satoru replied with a wink hanging up his phone and standing up with Suguru grabbing the bag smirking at his friend as they left their apartment.

You waited by your door for what seemed like hours but really it was only twenty minutes when a knock startled you, quickly you looked through the peephole seeing Satoru and Suguru standing there, suddenly the gravity of the situation came crashing around you.

They really were the two best-looking men you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, both of them lured you with charm and nicknames that left you feeling all warm and gooey inside. You opened the door and let them inside looking at the rain that poured from the sky.

You eyed the backpack on Satoru’s shoulder watching them kick their shoes off and shed their jackets. “I didn’t know we were going to have a sleepover.” You murmured leading them into the kitchen.

They both followed like dogs wagging their tails who knew they were getting a bone, the biggest one they ever had too and that would mean they would need to savor it.

After they fucked you good and dumb they also knew that their plan would fall perfectly into place. “It’s going to be much better than that kitty.” Satoru mused with a smirk as he stepped over to your cupboard opening the door looking for something sweet.

“Oh? What does that entail? Also, I hope you’re not going to eat me out of house and home.”

Suguru chuckled and stayed in his spot in the doorway leaning against the frame looking at you, the outfit you wore wasn’t anything scandalous but you still looked gorgeous and fuckable, everything about you pulled both him and Satoru in.

“If you let him he will, he’s very good with his mouth,” Suguru replied with a chuckle watching his friend then you.

You knew what he was getting out, Satoru turned and looked at you with a wink popping a cherry flavored sucker in his mouth swirling his tongue around it before pulling it out. “He’s right, but we came to protect you from the thunderstorms.” He said in a soft tone.

It was a little secret that you slipped one night when you two were hanging out that you get nervous sometimes in them, you turned and looked at the window watching the rain that pattered against the glass pane.

“My two knights in shining armor.” You teased reaching over grabbing the sucker from Satoru’s mouth sticking it in yours, the memory of the first time it happened you felt your pussy clench.

Suguru stepped in the already cramped kitchen behind you pressing himself against your backside as Satoru did the same only to your chest, your head was squeezed between their chests not giving you a chance to escape.

Satoru trailed his open hands up and down your sides gathering the pooling fabric and lifting it up, Suguru quickly helped raise your arms up so his counterpart could tug the shirt off of you letting it fall to the floor.

“You really are so pretty, and have the cutest pout especially when you’re wearing lip gloss.” Satoru murmrued looking down at you, his hand now coming up to hold your chin tilting your head up while Suguru leaned down kissing the back of your neck.

Shivers raced up your spin covering your whole body in goosebumps, you felt your nipples pebble from the kissing and intense stare off with the blue eyes. Slowly he leaned in making it a tease, dragging it out until finally his lips met yours.

The first kiss between you two was soft and sweet until it got hungrier and deeper as you twisted your fingers in his shirt, you broke the kiss and turned your head to kiss Suguru who held the back of your head slotting his mouth against yours.

You pulled away from him and leaned your head on Suguru’s chest looking at Satoru helping him take his shirt off, everything you dreamt of was finally coming true, the feeling of between being sandwiched between them.

Satoru dropped the backpack and let you undress him. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” You murmured taking both of their hands letting one of them grab the bag before following down the hall behind you.

All three of you stepped inside, their eyes scanning the walls and decoration before landing on the bed, a few plushies took space up next to the pillows, a four poster bed surrounded a king sized mattress in a color scheme that fit you to a T.

You kissed them both again before unhooking your bra and tossing it in your hamper. “You both know that I wanted you to use this on me.” They both watched you head over to your closet pulling out a small box filled with your toys with the collar and leashes on top.

Both of them stepped forward grabbing the leashes from your hand, the collar it was attached matched the color, they watched with throbbing cocks and slightly open mouths as you put it on, the inside was a soft fuzzy material thankfully.

Suguru pulled you closer wrapping the leather around his fist jerking you forward almost falling into them, Satoru caught you wrapping one arm around your waist. “I jerked off thinking about this, reality is much better though I have to say and being able to hold you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut melting into his arms, they both led you to the bed helping you on it, Satoru let go of his leash giving it to Suguru before grabbing the backpack removing the contents from it, multiple sex toys, and clothes. “So it is a sleepover, huh?” You teased.

They both chuckled as he continued grabbing cuffs and a short bar, again you watched them have a silent conversation before Suguru kneeled next to you helping you lay on your back. “Just for now pretty girl.” He told you taking the leash off your collar.

Their pheromones had you feeling in heat almost watching them both kneel between your legs now, they parted your thighs draping them over their laps before hooking their fingers in your panties and pulling them off.

Your curiosity got the best of you as you stayed silent watching them attach the cuffs to your ankles first, the inside the same as your collar padded with soft fur. “Grab this bar,” Satoru said as he extended it in front of your eyes.

Instantly you wrapped your fingers around it, the conversation was hazy in your mind but it seemed that you loved to spill your secrets to them telling them your darkest fantasies, and after yet again another lengthy conversation they got your permission to do indulge you during the weeks that spanned from then to now.

They were glad you trusted them, it showed in the way you let them move your limbs to their liking until the bar that held your cuffed wrists was weaved between the bars of your bedframe and your legs straight up in the air.

Suguru held the bar and pushed your legs back until your thighs were almost pressed against your ears, the stretch rippled through your muscles adding to the pleasure, with your pussy on full display it gave Satoru the opportune moment to stroke the slick flesh.

He gathered your wetness that webbed between his fingers to rub your clit while his friend took the time to kiss your breasts and nipples. “You really are pretty all around,” Suguru muttered as he pulled away while looking down at his friend slowly sliding two fingers inside you with a squelch.

You curled your toes and rolled your eyes to the back of your head, along with the other secrets you whispered into their ear they knew it’s been almost two years since you’ve been with anyone else but your own hand.

It was the same with them, but they’ve hooked up here and there with each other and you told them time and time again when you three finally did something you didn’t want anything to hinder fully feeling them, it was a dangerous game playing with heat but you were willing to get burnt a bit for them.

Their tongues were like flames stroking the wild fire inside you, they were tearing apart at your seams getting to know the real you before stitching you back together, it was a sick perverse thing to do but over the weeks they were both certain you were their missing part.

Suguru bent at his waist and swirled your clit with the tip of his tongue before dripping more spit onto your cunt and Satoru’s fingers, you moaned and swirled your hips trying to fuck yourself on his digits. “More oh please more!”

Satoru pulled out leaving you aching and empty to remove his pants and boxers getting fully naked before taking the bar from his friend so he could do the same thing until all three of you were naked.

Sweat was like a second skin clinging to your flesh, heat gathered around your bodies filling the small room, they could smell your arousal that pooled between your lips creating a sticky mess that Suguru leaned down and licked clean.

His tongue went up and down making sure not to miss a single inch before going back to your clit and sucking on it which had your back arching off the mattress as you gripped the bar that held your wrists.

While Suguru was eating you like a man starved, Satoru took the time to grab a mini wand vibrator from the bag turning it on with a mad grin as he bent down to pepper your breasts in wet kisses just like Suguru did a few moments ago.

He swirled his tongue around your nipple before drawing it in his mouth using the wand to place it over your nipple on the lowest setting, you could feel it drawing pleasure from the deepest part of you. “Satoru - Suguru!" You whined wanting more than what they’re giving you.

“What is it, pretty girl?” Suguru asked sitting up now and taking the wand from Satoru to place it on your clit, his lips shone under the dim light from your slick and his own spit, he turned the vibrations up watching you wither on the bed.

It was hard to explain the feeling they gave you, between the intense pleasure that made you feel like you were floating and the way they cooed over you like you were their girl, and maybe part of you wished that you were.

Satoru slid his fingers inside your pussy again finding a slow pace while he grazed your g-spot, he was sure to massage it a few times before curling and scissoring his digits while Suguru circled the blunt end of the wand over your clit.

You tugged on the restraints pouting and pushing your lips out wanting one of them to kiss you, Suguru leaned over slotting his mouth against yours and pushing his tongue inside and swirling his with yours while pressing the wand a bit harder.

Pulses of pleasure thrummed through you with exhilaration, moaning into Suguru’s mouth which he ate before pulling away and looking down at you with a smile. “You’re doing so good for us, can you take more?”

“Yes, I can take whatever you give me.” You replied with a breathy tone, Satoru grinned and held the back of Suguru’s neck pulling him closer and kissing him deeply before pulling away to remove the bar from your bed frame.

Both of them put you in a new position with your head hanging off the bed which Suguru held up kissing you again as he kneeled next to the side of the bed watching Satoru grab the bar and push your legs back again.

“If it gets to be too much pretty girl tap one of us twice.” Suguru reminded you in between kisses as he laid your head down slowly and gently, his cock sprang in your face thick and leaky, you watched him not able to see Satoru anymore from this position.

You nodded and opened your mouth letting Suguru feed his dick into your mouth until he heard gagging, he pulled back a bit and began to rut his hips pumping in and out as you let him, your throat becoming his own personal fucktoy.

Satoru watched the scene entranced by the two of you. He almost forgot what he was doing in the moment, his eyes were blown with lust and desire for you and Suguru. While they knew what they were doing was slimy and gross as hell, lying and manipulating you into liking them, but they didn’t care if it meant having you.

He watched Suguru hold onto the bar pulling your legs back more making it easier for Satoru to hold his shaft and rub his head between your lips, the tip caught the hood of your cunt a few times, and your clit visibly throbbed from being so turned on and the teasing.

Satoru slowly thrust into you holding the bar until he bottomed out feeling you tighten and flutter around him, he looked down at where you two were connected seeing the sticky wet mess and your pussy lips wrapped around his cock so prettily as he patted the bed for the wand grabbing the end and turning it on.

Low vibrations filled the room along with your gargled moans, Suguru looked at your lips swollen and wrapped around the base of his cock with a groan, you hollowed your cheeks meeting his gaze with wet eyes and he swore he could see your pupils turn into hearts.

He glanced at his friend who was still staring at his cock slide in and out of you, it was a sight to see, the way you molded around his dick it was almost like you were meant for him, quickly overstimulation set in from them fucking you and Satoru’s fingers playing with your nipples.

The smell of sex hung heavy in the air permeating everything, you inhaled through your nose deeply before relaxing your throat letting Suguru fuck it harder, his free hand which didn’t hold the bar reached out to grab Satoru’s shoulder pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

You watched their tongues tangle together while both of them fucked you, Satoru’s cock drove deep almost kissing your cervix making you squeal around Suguru’s dick before sucking harder, your tongue curled a bit around his head when he pulled out a bit to give you a break.

“Look at you doing such a good job taking us.” Suguru praised stroking your head with the back of his hand holding the bar in place making it easier for his friend to plant his fists on either side of you while rocking his hips and brushing your clit a few times.

The white-haired man smirked down at you as he tortured you with a slow pace and brought the wand back to your clit. “She really is, huh?” He asked ending the sentence with a broken moan making his friend chuckle while he jerked himself above your head.

Your spit made it easier to do so, the wet sound roared in your ears as he moved closer letting his cum shoot out on your chest and tits which Satoru cleaned up when his head dipped down to lap at the white essence before he pulled you back on the bed all the way.

“Holy fuck.” You muttered watching him while he stopped the movements of his hips as he licked you clean before propping himself up on his elbows and looking at you with a smirk licking his lips.

Suguru parted your lips watching you lean forward to kiss Satoru who spit the cum in your open and waiting mouth, his blue eyes were hazy as he took in the sight of you shiny with his best friend's load.

Before you could say or do anything else Satoru slowly pulled out, you whined at the loss of him then they both worked to remove the bar and cuffs massaging the skin that was surrounded by the fuzz. “You really did so well, but we’re not done yet, pretty girl,” Suguru told you with a smile.

He kissed your open palm staring at you while Satoru worked his fingers around your ankles, then again they both flipped you on your hands and knees with Suguru under you and your legs tucked under you and on either side of him.

He helped you hover above his cock before slowly pushing inside you bottoming out, the stretch was enough to have you clawing at his abs while Satoru pushed you down until your ass was high in the air making it easy to give your left cheek a small swat.

You yelped and jerked forward wrapping your arms around Suguru who held you close to him, your pussy felt so warm and tight he feared he’d cum way too quick for his liking. “Just stay still for us, okay? We should’ve told you to put in a cute little butt plug in before coming over.”

Satoru chuckled and spread your ass cheeks looking where you and his friend were connected with a grin. “I don’t know why we didn’t but I have a little something for you kitten.” He murmured.

You couldn’t see what he was doing but you could hear it, he was looking through the contents of the items on your bed grabbing the lube and plug he washed beforehand. “We know how much you love it, and we’re going to teach you how to take two in one.” Suguru teased nipping at your neck.

The cool gel was applied to your hole as Satoru slowly worked the plug inside your ass watching you open up like a flower, you really were made for them he thought before he slowly slid his finger down to your pussy tracing your lips before pushing it inside alongside Suguru’s cock.

You gasped and threw your head back pushing back against him and letting out a broken moan, they both helped you bounce up and down before Suguru had you sitting up straight to latch onto your nipple while Satoru added another finger.

They both worked in unison stretching you out, Suguru moaned around your tit as he laved it in wet kisses as Satoru kissed and nipped at your shoulders, his free hand pinching your other nipple. “You sure you can take us?” He whispered in your ear.

You nodded letting Suguru wrap his arms around your waist pulling you back down on top of him making it easy for his friend to guide his lubed-up cock against your stretched-out cunt, Satoru slowly slid himself inside you with a low groan in his throat.

All three of you stayed still getting used to the feeling you found Suguru’s mouth in a hot kiss before glancing back at Satoru who already knew what you wanted as he leaned in and kissed you then Suguru.

Then all of you were engaged in a messy kiss, you weren’t sure whose tongue was whose as hazy bliss swam heavy through you, it was hard to keep yourself upright from Satoru and Suguru fucking you dumb like they had planned.

You squeezed your pussy in quick successions grinding your hips down as they gained speed, while Suguru pulled out Satoru thrust back in creating the perfect rhythm thrumming the orgasm that sat in your belly like a guitar string.

With the butt plug it was becoming too much, your cunt spasmed around their cocks throwing your head back howling almost from the climax. “Oh, my God!” You cried out.

“There you go, keep coming for us pretty girl, you’re doing such a good job.” Suguru praised kissing behind your ear filling you up with his own orgasm feeling Satoru pull out while he slowly removed the butt plug taking its place.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan curling your fingers into Suguru’s hair grinding your hips again humping them both riding out your high. “You sound and look so pretty when you cum for us, no other men will ever bring you this much pleasure,” Satoru whispered in your ear.

And he was right, there was no way you could ever be with another man and not think about this with them, the pleasure they single handily gave you was more than you’d ever thought you’d experience in this lifetime.

It wasn’t like they saw you as some sort of toy to keep or trophy to show off even though they planned to do that later, it was the obsession that quickly took hold of them worming into their hearts like ivy on a building

You collapsed on top of Suguru feeling Satoru do the same to you, his chest pressed against your back, all three of you panting and breathing heavily coming down from your highs. Suguru rubbed your shoulders kissing your cheek gently helping you down from the high.

𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗄𝗂 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗐𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗇𝖾, 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝖾𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗄𝗂 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗒𝖺𝗐𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗉𝗂𝖽, 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗀, 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍. 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈, 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗒 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗂𝗍𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝗂𝗇, 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗎𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗈𝖽. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂 𝖿𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗈, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽’𝗌 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅-𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗉 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗀, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗎𝗉 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝗄𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗅𝗒, 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗀, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗂𝗅, 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽. 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗈. 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗏𝗂𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄, 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽, 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋. 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾’𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽, 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗄. 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗑𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗆 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗓𝖾𝗇. 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍.

𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝖾𝖽. 𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗀𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽, 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗒, 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗈 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁. 𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗎𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝗎𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗅 𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿.

“𝗂 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄..” 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄. 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗄𝗂.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾. 𝗋𝖺𝗐. 𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅… 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽. 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. “𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄. 𝗂’𝗆 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽. 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿𝖿. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗀𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍. 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. “𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂’𝗆..” 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗈𝗉, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿-𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝗋,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾. “𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈’𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌.” 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖺. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗋. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗄𝗂. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽’𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝗇𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽.

𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖿𝗎𝗅, 𝖽𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇. 𝗐𝖾𝗍. 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇. 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾?” 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅. 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁. 𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗌. “𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. “𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈,” 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗌, 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. “𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇’ 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽. 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌, 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗐. “𝖼’𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌. “𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾-𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍… 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄, 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗂𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗐. “𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽. 𝗌𝗁𝖾’𝖽 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁. 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂’𝗆 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖽.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗍. “𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎…” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍..” 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗌. 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁. “..𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗎𝖻 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗆𝗉.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾. “𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖾,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌. “𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍. 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗉. 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅. 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄, 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗌𝖾, 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎?” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗌. 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒.

“𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌. “𝖼’𝗆𝗈𝗇,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. “𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁. 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌. 𝗂 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌. 𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 ‘𝖾𝗆.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. “𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗎𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌. 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗌. 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗐.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝖻𝗈𝖻𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. “𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒.” 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇. 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗍. 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾. 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋. “𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗂𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂’𝗆 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎… 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖾. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗌𝗎𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍, 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾’𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌, 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆, 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗂𝗅’𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾, 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌. 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁. “𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁𝗁𝗁…” 𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. “𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒. 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍, 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆, 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗍. 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝖺𝗁 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅. 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉. 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝖽.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌… 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗌.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝖽𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗅, 𝗉𝖺𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁. 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾.

𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁. 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆. 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖾𝖽. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄, 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋. 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. “𝖺𝗂𝗇’𝗍 𝗀𝖺𝗒,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌. “𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒.” 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗍. 𝗁𝗈𝗍. 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗆𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗄𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗆. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆. 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐. “𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇’. 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖼 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌. 𝖻𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗇𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗌.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾. 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍. 𝖻𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝗁𝗎𝗁?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗂𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗋𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐, 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗃𝗈𝖻. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍. 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍, 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗒. “𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗋𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇’ 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝗂 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋.”

𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗑, 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐, 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗂𝗅’𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗉. 𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄…” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇. 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. “𝗐𝗁𝗒’𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂?” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗇. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗎𝖻 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. “𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍..” 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄. 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌.” 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝖻𝗈𝖻𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖻𝗌. 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖿𝗍, 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗀.

𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾. “𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋. “𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗌𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗉 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗅. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗃𝗈𝗅𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽. “𝖺𝗁 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉𝗌. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾. 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌. “𝗃𝖾𝗌𝗎𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌…” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. “𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗆, 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. “𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉?” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇. 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝗅𝖺𝗓𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋. “𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂?” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌. 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉. 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇. “𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌,” 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖾𝖽. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝖽. “𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁? 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋? 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋?” 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗉 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌. “𝖺𝗁 𝖺𝗁𝗁, 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄, 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍, 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍—” 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾. 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒’𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒. 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝗐𝖾𝗍. 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾. 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌?” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺 𝗇𝗈. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗀. “𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝖽𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗂𝗍. “𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗉 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. “𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝖺𝗋𝗌𝖾. 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇. “…𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾.”

𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗉 𝗁𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋, 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍, 𝗌𝗈 𝖾𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋. 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗂𝗆, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽. 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇. 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉, 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝖾𝗅. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍… 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗌. 𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗉, 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖾, 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾. 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. “…𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. “𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗋𝖽,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿. “𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗇. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗉 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’—” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗇𝗎𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋.

𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗀𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗀. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝗀𝗈𝖽,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇’ 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾. 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌. “𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗋𝗒. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗎𝗉, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝗎𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗂𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽. 𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽’𝗌 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍. 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗀, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿-𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. “𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌. 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅. 𝗀𝗈𝖽 𝗂’𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒, 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗎𝗉 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗂𝗅, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄… 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗒, 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗋𝗍 𝗋𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖽𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝗇𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌. 𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗄𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒’𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗒, 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗂𝗆. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗎𝖻 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗂𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇’ 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗅𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐, 𝗅𝖺𝗓𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗆𝗉. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗂𝗍,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍, 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗎𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗒, 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝗍. 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗍, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒.”

𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝗈𝗅𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉. “𝗀𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗇,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆. 𝗇𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆, 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖻𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾. “𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌? 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇’ 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇’ 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗎𝖻 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋. “𝖻𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾. “𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝗎𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇’ 𝗆𝖾. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗋𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇’ 𝗂𝗍. 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉. 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒. 𝗂’𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇’ 𝗒𝗈𝗎.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗅𝗂𝗉 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁. 𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍, 𝗅𝖺𝗓𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽, 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝖿. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾. 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗄𝗇𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾-𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗋. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗌. 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗃𝗈𝗅𝗍𝗌, 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖻𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝗎𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄.

𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗐𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉. 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝖺 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍, 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗀. 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝗍. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝗍, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝖾𝗋. 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗍. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋, 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇. 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒. 𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇, 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾, 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍, 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗏𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽, 𝗐𝖾𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗌 𝗂𝗍, 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾𝗌, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗑. 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗂𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌. 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗈 𝗎𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗈. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄. 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆, 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽. 𝗐𝖾𝗍. 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗐𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒’𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖾𝗋.

𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿-𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾, 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄, 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌, 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗎𝖻. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅. 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗆, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗅𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽, 𝗅𝗈𝗐, 𝖽𝗂𝗓𝗓𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾, 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖺𝗐𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇, 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗒, 𝗆𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝗆. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾.

𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗅𝖺𝗓𝗒. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗉 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗋𝗎𝖻𝖻𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗄 𝗂𝗍, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖿𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉. 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇. 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽, 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗉, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉. 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒. 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝖺𝗋𝗌𝖾, 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗅𝗒, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋. 𝗐𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌. 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗒. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖼𝗎𝗆,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌. 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖻𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗒. 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾… 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗉 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍, 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝖼𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗆 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁, 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇, 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍.

𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗅, 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗎𝗆. 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽. 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇. 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇-𝗇𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗀𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖺𝗐, 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄, 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗒, 𝗁𝗈𝗍, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽. 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄. 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄, 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽, 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝗇𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍, 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗆𝗉. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌. 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽. 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗆𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝗈𝗍. 𝗐𝖾𝗍. 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗌𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒, 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗀. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇. 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗓𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽. 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝖺𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄.”

𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝗐𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗌𝖿𝗂𝖾𝖽. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁, 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌. “𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒,” 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌, 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄, “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌, 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗂𝗍. 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇. 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍. 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗓𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇-𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗍. “𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍. 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝗎𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗌𝗍, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗒. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗌. 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌?” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗉𝖾𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗇’ 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉?” 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍. “𝖼’𝗆𝗈𝗇. 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗎𝗉. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝗍, 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗂𝗍.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗃𝖺𝗐, 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇. “𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗂𝗍. 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽. 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗒𝗂𝗇’ 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒’𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝗍. 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗒. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄. 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌, 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗄𝗄 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍. 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅.” 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌.

𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗋𝖾, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾?” 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍. “𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍? 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾. “𝗌’𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍? 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋? 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝗇?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗌. “𝗃𝖾𝗌𝗎𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗄.” 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾. 𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗎𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. “𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌?” 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍. “𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝗆 𝗂.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍, 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗋𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁, 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗋. “𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗌. “𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄. “𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍? 𝗌’𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗅’ 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍-𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄. “𝗇𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌.”

𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗎𝗇𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗄𝗂 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌? 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗎𝗇𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗌. 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽. 𝗎𝗀𝗅𝗒. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗍. “𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎? 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾, 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇’ 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍, 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇’ 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗇𝖾.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗐,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁. 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇. 𝗂 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗇𝖾.” 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾. 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽. 𝗂𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗋. 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝗎𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗁. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗂𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗌. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇. “𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝖽𝖺𝗓𝖾𝖽.

𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗀. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝗇𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗇𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽. 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖿. “𝗆𝗆,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄. 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾. 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗂’𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁, 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇, 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗐𝖾𝗋. 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇. 𝗀𝗈𝗅𝖽. 𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗒. 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋. 𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗄𝗂’𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗉𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇. 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. “𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒. “𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗎𝗉. 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗉𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍.

𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋. 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁. 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍. 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗎𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍. “𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁,” 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌. “𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗒. 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗃𝖺𝗐. “𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗉. 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍. 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌. “𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌. “𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍. 𝗐𝖾𝗍. 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌. 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉. 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗒. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍. 𝗌’𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗎𝗉. 𝗌𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌. 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖼𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎…” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗆𝖾, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒?” 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗌. “𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇’ 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌?”

𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽. 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋. “𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗎𝗉.” 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗇. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗋𝖺𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅. “𝗆𝗆𝗇, 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇. 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁𝖿𝗎𝗅, 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖺𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉. 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗎𝗉. 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗂’𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆. “𝗌𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽. 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒. 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍.”

𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄. “𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽." 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌. 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗐𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗄𝗂’𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. “𝗇𝖺𝗁. 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍. 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗂 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉. 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗆𝖻𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗋𝗎𝖻𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌, 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝗋. “𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖽, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗍.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗌, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄. “𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽. 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉. 𝗇𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄, 𝗋𝖺𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅, 𝗉𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗋𝗒 𝗆𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. “𝗎𝗁 𝗎𝗁. 𝗇𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗂’𝗆 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗎𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗋𝗁𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾. 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾. 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗅𝖽. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈. “𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗌. “𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎…” 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽. 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗍. 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗂𝗍. 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍.”

𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁, 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁. “𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂’𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗅𝗒. “𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈. 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍. 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖼. 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋. 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. “𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗀𝗇𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇. 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗒, 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗒 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝗍. 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝖺. 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄. 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾-𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽. 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁. “𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗌. “𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈𝖻. 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇. 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁. 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗍. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆. “𝗆𝗆𝗁𝗆, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗂𝗍. 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗇𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌. 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇’ 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍, 𝗋𝗎𝖻 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. “𝗀𝗈 𝗈𝗇. 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖽.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽. 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅-𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗄𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖼. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗍, 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗌𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌?” 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌. “𝗁𝗎𝗁? 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗅 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄’𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗎𝗆?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈𝖻 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗌. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗂 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽.”

𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄. 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌, 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗆𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇, 𝖿𝖺𝗍, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗍, 𝗏𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖾’𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗍, 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌. 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁. “𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗌, 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾, 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗃𝖺𝗐, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇. 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗅 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗌. “𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖽. 𝗇𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖻𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍.”

𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍, 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗓𝖾𝖽. 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾?” 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌. “𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗐𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗂 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗌. “𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽, 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎? 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗆𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌?” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗌 𝗎𝗉. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄, 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇. 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗌. “𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍? 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝗈?” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗆𝗂𝗑 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋. “𝗐𝗁𝗈’𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝖻𝗋𝖺?” “…𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗑 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. “𝗐𝗁𝗈’𝗌 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗅 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇. “𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌. “𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇’ 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍. “𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝖾. 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾. 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗍. 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌. 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎.”

𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗇𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗌𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍. 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇, 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗌, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. “𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝖽. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗌. “𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗍.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇. 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽. “𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍. “…𝗂’𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐. 𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗄. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗍. “𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗋.” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍. “𝗂’𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒, 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾, 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅.

The entrance to Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary opened up to the main hallway; with classrooms upon either side, and doorways spaced between walls that were kaleidoscopes of crafts and schoolbag hooks and polaroids of students over the years. If Toji looked hard enough then he’d even be able to find the polaroid where Megumi was flipping the camera off—he’d learned that one from him, see.

That was an awkward parent-teacher meeting.

But that was also the day he properly met you - beyond just the polite nod and hasty small talk at drop-off and pick-up. 

With your adorable flowery apron on - courtesy of elementary school policy - and your lips trying very hard not to twitch up into a smile—very nicely telling Megumi that that wasn’t something good kids do.

Toji agreed then. He’d have agreed with anything you said.

“But you were the one that taught—”

He’d slapped his hand over Megumi’s mouth then.

You’d let a small laugh slip- and he was a goner. 

After that meeting, Megumi may have lost something (iPad privileges for a whole month), but Toji gained something: this little ember of attraction that he couldn’t shake off no matter how much he tried. Every routine pick-up and drop-off, every bake sale, every little notification that lit up his phone—you typing into the parents’ groupchat about some announcement or the other. And though it’d never be anything too personal, his heart always thundered in his chest as he clicked those notifications open. Is it weird that he set a different tone for your notifications?

The harder he tried to ignore it, the further it kindled.

Until he evidently couldn’t even walk inside that damn building without feeling some part of him melt just a little…

Even now, his skin burns as he watches you. 

Biting back a laugh as one of your students hugged their guardian goodbye- so hard that both adult and child topple over. And then you’re being grappled into the same embrace, which you’re letting yourself be tugged into—soon enough, three more of your students join in. One tucks a wildflower from the garden behind your ear.

Sunlight falls across your face as your head falls back in a laugh - and then you’re leaning forwards and grabbing all of those tiny bodies in a hug. 

Toji can’t help but wonder whether you’d like to be embraced just the same. Toji can’t help but wonder whether you’d laugh just like that when you’re picked up and spun around, feet never touching the ground. Toji can’t help but wonder why the hell Itadori Yuji was pointing and laughing at him.

“Mr. Fushiguro’s dad, your face looks funny—!” He squeals. Loud enough for multiple parents to turn and look.

Toji grumbles something underneath his breath and straightens, like the respectable adult - the respectable adult - he is. Cool. Calm. Collected. Mature. “Oh yeah? And your hair looks funny, kid.”

Now those same parents were turning to him and glaring. 

“What—?!” He gruffs out at them, hands raising in surrender. “He started it.”

Itadori turns to them and smiles an utterly precious, gap-toothed smile. 

He tells himself that he’s imagining the way they seem to be pulling their kids away from him.

Itadori stops laughing and ruffles his own coral-pink locks. The boy had strong-armed himself to become one of Megumi’s best friends since their first day; and he always has made himself known as the chatterbox of the group. The sweetheart. The trouble-stirrer (one of them, at least). “My grandpa says it’s um- jeanetic. My father had pink hair, too.”

Toji raises a brow, “Oh?”

“Yeah! Did you know my uncle’s in prison?” The boy looks squarely up at him and beams. “He sets things on fire.”

“Same, bud.”

“I eat dirt.”

“…what the fuck.” Toji whispers underneath his breath- though it must’ve been loud enough for the keenest of eavesdroppers to listen, because before he knows it, a little boy with a face mask and the most atrocious bowl cut Toji’s seen in his life—pulls out a notebook from his backpack and starts furiously scribbling something down.

Assumably the profanity he’d just spoken.

Inumaki Toge, was it?

Now he’s the one stepping away from these damn kids. 

But before he can get too far, Toji feels a tug on either arm—he looks to his right: Itadori. 

Attempting to climb up his forearms and biceps like monkey bars.

He looks to his left: Kugisaki.

Looking knowingly between you and him.

“These partners stink of-”

“What was that?” Kugisaki asks. 

“Nothing.” Toji quickly replies. And then there was the other one: Kugisaki Nobara was impossible to miss in a classroom. If not by her chattering that was just as loud as pink-haired Itadori’s, then by the red, rubber hammer that she seemed to be fond of, smashing it on top of people’s heads if they displeased her. He was just in the middle of wondering whether he could be successfully knocked out if she hit him hard enough when-

“Where…are you taking me?” He quickly narrows his eyes- just as soon as the little girl started pulling him by the hand. Towards your classroom. “Hey—”

“Oh, c’moooon.” She rolls her eyes in a manner that was far too expert for her age. “How is the male lead going to get the heroine if they don’t even talk?”

“I’m not the main character?”

Itadori - who had by now managed to perch atop his right shoulder like some parrot - whispers uncomfortably in his ear. “How’s the rizzler going to get the skibidi?”

Toji whirls to him- “Bless you?” The fuck…

Megumi follows and nods sagely. Deadpanning. “Dad’s not sigma enough for that.”

“Not you, too?!”

“Hi?”

The Earth had given way from underneath him. But in reality, it was just your voice breaking through the chaos of the elementary lobby—Itadori had begun gripping onto his shaggy, black bangs for balance now- and Toji was doing all he could to peak through the boy’s cutely chubby fingers.

A breath catching in his chest once he realizes that they’d walked him all the way over to you.

Apron on. Brows raised. A flower tucked prettily behind your ear. Standing right at the door to your vibrant classroom; you kept a hand on your mouth to stifle your obvious smile. Though nothing could hide the light in your eyes.

And before Toji’s given the opportunity to wax shitty poetics about it in his mind, you’re nodding at the boy latched onto Toji’s head. With a smile- “Down now, Yuji. What have I said about climbing people like monkey bars?”

He sighs and removes his hands covering Toji’s eyes, “To not climb people like monkey bars.”

“And what are you doing right now?”

“Climbing people like monkey bars.” 

“Down, please.”

Yes, ma’am…Toji’s thinking to himself. Snap out of it, man.

It was like a miracle. Itadori Yuji - for however much of a sweetheart he was - was never the type to listen to authority so directly—you could tell the kid to not eat glue and he’d chug down the whole bottle. Toji knows. From experience.

But it’s as easy as butter that he’s sliding off the older man now- and soon enough, his small red shoes are hitting the floor. And he’s staring up at Toji with his scarred mouth gaped open.

In fact, everyone was.

“Um, Fushiguro-san? Is everything okay?” Your brows then pinch in concern.

Kugisaki slaps her forehead, and Megumi seems to sink deeper into his bangs. As quickly as the words are registering in his head—he’s shutting his mouth and faintly puffing his broad chest out. Making sure that you see the way his beefy biceps flex as he scratches behind his neck. “Yeah- yeah, everything’s alright. How about you?”

“Can’t complain.” You giggle. And when there doesn’t seem to be a follow-up question, he flexes even harder. “I see uh…you’ve been hitting the gym lately, Fushiguro-san.”

“Oh, me?” He has the audacity to look a little shocked. “That’s cute, doll. But I don’t hit the gym.”

“You must take steroids then.” Itadori pipes up gleefully. “My uncle takes them, too-”

“I’m all natural—”

As this subsides, you’re taking control of the chaos like the professional you are. “Alright, oh- look at the time!” Sweeping a glance behind you at the classroom clock, “We’re almost late for attendance and rehearsal time. Let’s get inside, kids.” 

You start ushering some of them inside- and Toji squirms as those balls of energy rush past him. Evidently you were preoccupied with them, but you have enough time to look up at the older man and flash him a smile-

“And I’ll see you at pick-up then?”

Faintly, he nods. “Uh-huh.”

“Good.” You cock your head up at him, “Hope you have fun with the gym then~”

“U-uh-huh.”

He can only watch mutely as you whisk a few students inside and clap your hands to get their attention—some of the parents were filtering out and he knows he must look like such a creep…but you were just so astounding. And at least he hadn’t completely fucked up that interaction-

“Mr. Fushiguro’s dad, sorry for your aura loss.” Itadori pats him comfortingly on his side. There were still some students milling about with their goodbyes. 

He whirls, “Fushiguro Toji doesn’t lose aura-”

“But you did.” Kugisaki nods with her arms crossed. “You fumbled, Fushiguro-san.”

He turns to his beloved son for reassurance. 

Megumi looks at Toji blankly. “You never had aura to me, dad.”

“That’s it-”

“But it’s okay.” Kugisaki says, “The male lead never gets the heroine in the first five minutes. They have to suffer first. You just messed up Phase One.”

He almost feels sorry asking. “And…what is Phase One?”

“The rizz phase.” This time, it’s Itadori that answers. “You have zero rizz, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad. But—we have a plan.”

“A plan?”

Itadori holds up three fingers. “Four more phases before you win Ms. Teacher’s heart!” Not so loud…he’s grateful you haven’t noticed them yet. 

Megumi holds up the correct number of fingers. “Four more phases to embarrass yourself, dad.”

What moral support, son.

“I don’t know…” 

Itadori nods seriously, “Take it this way, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad- there’s a red button and a blue button in front of you. If you press the red button you die alone like my uncle probably will. If you press the blue button you totally rizz Ms. Teacher up and live happily-ever-after before she divorces you. Which button would you press?”

Neither?! His jaw drops. “What the fu-”

“We just want to matchmake you!” Kugisaki shoves Itadori aside. 

He eyes the kids warily. Leaving his love life to three elementary schoolers? Has Fushiguro Toji really fallen this far? Oh…he really is getting old. “Whatever. I don’t a shi- damn.”

And the answer is yes, yes he has.

But then Kugisaki clasps her hands together and beams, “Then in the end you’ll be just like Jinu and Rumi from K-pop Demon Hunters!”

And beside himself, Toji cracks a little smile. “Yeah…yeah, maybe we will.”

“You’ll die in the end and she’ll become a demon!”

“…let’s just stick to Phase Two.”

.

.

.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE TWO: SWEET TREATS!

Status: Pending…

Why did he agree to this shit again?

Though it wasn’t exactly Valentine’s Day; Fushiguro Toji was lugging a cart ‘round the candy aisles of Maruetsu supermarket, followed by three children with sticky fingers that just kept on piling even more sweets into the hefty chocolate-filled cart. And more. And more. And more-

And though Toji agrees that there was never a wrong day for chocolate - he was just damn relieved that yesterday had been pay day. These brats didn’t even glance at the price before throwing chocolate bars and heart-shaped candies over the cart rim.

Right alongside a bunch of flour, butter, and whatever shit one needed to make cookies. 

Because yes—Fushiguro Toji was apparently the type to make cookies now. 

Itadori tosses a bunch of Daddy Tony’s Chocolonely into the cart. “We’re totally chocolate-mogging everyone in the store right now.”

Why did he agree to this shit again?

It’d been their idea.

Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary’s annual talent show was nearing. The decorations were being made. The kids were rehearsing after-school. And Toji didn’t care too much about such things—the only reason this had stuck in his mind was because you’d sent a message about it in the group chat. And he’d read that little sentence over and over again until he memorized it. 

To raise funds for such an endeavour, the elementary was hosting a bake sale; where parents - should they choose to do so - could contribute their own baked goods and little treats and candies that could be sold. The year before, Toji had honestly just sent Megumi off with a bag of chips that Itadori had scoffed down in all of three seconds. 

Though, in his defense, it wasn’t mandatory and he didn’t know what the fuck a bake sale was supposed to be. 

Phase Two of the plan seemingly consisted of emptying out Toji’s pockets- the three of them had insisted that this bake sale was the perfect opportunity for Toji to make his move on you.

It was simple, really—bake cookies for the sale, sell them there, and when it came to you- woo you with a special heart-shaped cookie and ask you out. Simple! 

Was it obvious that this plan had been concocted by a bunch of nine-year-olds?

Toji sighs.

He glimpses Megumi wandering into the meat section and reaching for ¥50,000 Wagyu-

The next day, after burning the first few batches of cookies and setting fire to his kitchen only twice, Toji found himself crammed into a pretty pink-frilled booth at the official annual bake sale. Equally as pink apron cinched around his waist—and his t-shirt so tight that he catches a few single parents giving him appreciative looks.

Though he wasn’t paying attention to that. 

He was keeping his eyes on you- making your way from booth-to-booth, laughing along with parents and trying out everything your students had to offer. 

Toji lets out a long, lingering sigh.

He was never going to get over this damn crush—

Next to him, Megumi and his two best friends were the ones manning the counter and giving out cookies to paying customers. He hates to admit it, but business was booming. 

“Hey…hey, if I pay you in chocolates would you sell this shit again for me?”

Megumi looks up at him blankly. “I want 60% equity and ¥5 for every unit sold.”

Toji drops a cookie he was holding over the counter—“M-maybe not…”

“Hey, there’s Ms. Teacher!” Itadori squeals. 

And then…and then the most sweet, seraphic sound echoes in his ears- too close for it to be something he’d imagined, too removed from him to be anyone but you. You’re making the tall man freeze where he was leaned over the counter - and the hairs on the back of his neck rise…he’s pausing to listen for you before he knows it.

“Oh, let me get that for you.”

Toji hadn’t noticed you walk over. Toji hadn’t noticed you bending down to pick up the cookie he’d dropped. “O-oh, no you don’t need to—” Not before you’re straightening up and holding it out to him with a beautiful smile. 

“It’s no problem.” You chirp. 

Mutely, he takes the crumbling cookie from you.

He wanted that cookie badly.

“So…I see business is booming.” You nod down at the three little ones manning the counter, “Good job, sweethearts. How are you today?”

“Good.” Both Megumi and Kugisaki echo.

“My grandma got hit by a bazooka!” Itadori beams.

Your smile falters, though Toji’s impressed at how quickly you recover. “Well…that’s certainly a time, isn’t it, Yuji? And how are you, Fushiguro-san?”

“O-oh, me—?” His faze sizzles at being called out so suddenly. And the older man hurries to scratch behind his neck—did his biceps look good in this apron? “Ah…chill.”

“Chill, hm?” You smirk. Eyeing him, “I dunno- I’d say it’s a rather hot day today.”

Features scrunching up, Toji leans his head out and looks at the sky. “Is it? Those damn weathermen always lie.”

Megumi smacks his forehead. 

“No, I just meant…” You’re flitting your gaze at the paper-thin fabric of his t-shirt, wrapped around his chiselled limbs so perfectly. Gift-wrapped. And then you’re shaking your head, instead turning to the rows of cookies put on display. “Anyways- any recommendations you guys have for me?”

Toji furrows his brows at the abrupt change in conversation. Beside him, reaching just past his knee, Kugisaki kicks him in the shin and hisses- “The cookie! The cooooookie! Make a move, male lead!”

“Oh. Oh.” Toji startles. Bending down and whispering back, “Now?”

“Yes, now!”

“But-”

“Go.”

“Wait—”

“Go!”

Finally, he holds one calloused palm out at you. Bandaged and slightly aching from baking all day yesterday. “Stay here, we made something special for you.”

“Oh?”

Toji shuffles around in the box of cookies that they’d brought with them; packaged away and separated from the rest was one particular cookie—your favorite flavor, which he’d probed out of the kids. Specifically made in the shape of a heart.

His hands shake a little bit as he turns to you with it.

Scarred lips parting, “This is…”

“For me?” You cock your head with a sweet smile.

He nods. “Free of charge.”

“That’s too sweet, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Please—” Toji interrupts, fingers weak - barely holding onto the crinkled package - as he holds it out to you. “I insist. For taking care of my son.”

Something changes in your expression, and your fingers twitch closer to his.

The trio watches open-mouthed as your hands close the gap in mid-air before—

“Oooooooo, cookie! Fanum tax!” 

Before one Todo Aoi leans over the counter and snatches the cookie fast- before everyone could even blink, all of Toji’s emotions, hopes, pursuits, and dreams find themselves stuffed down the crumb-coated maw of the little boy. Chomped to bits.

Everyone looks at him in stunned silence.

He polishes off the cookie in three bites.

“What?” Todo asks as the silence stretches even longer- and he notices the stares around him. “Needs a little more salt…”

Toji feels like keeling over. “I am going to-”

“Here, Ms.” Megumi picks up one of those cute, floral-decorated cookie packets on the counter and pushes it into your hands. “Free of charge.”

“Thank you. I…” You look at Toji as though you’re about to say something more—but then a call of your name from across the school field catches your attention. Another teacher was waving you over for something- and with an apologetic smile, you’re bowing your way out of there.

Itadori whistles, “Wow, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad. Maybe if you hadn’t waited around bein’ a scaredy-cat then Ms. Teacher might’ve gotten the cookies before Todo.” 

Immediately Kugisaki gets down from the counter- grabs her rubber hammer, and slams it down on Todo’s head. 

Then before Toji can feel a rush of pride, she grabs two cookie packets and beckons him to crouch down to her height.

Once he does, she presses both packets to his cheeks and asks seriously. “And what are you?”

“A fuckin’ idiot cookie.” 

A small gasp.

From the other side of the counter, he hears furious scribbling as someone jots that particular word down—he doesn’t need to look to know that it’s that Inumaki Toge again. Nooooo—! It’d slipped out accidentally, he promises. Also on the other side of the counter was Todo Aoi who was now eyeing the other cookies enviously- Megumi frowns and starts pulling them away from him.

Itadori turns to Toji and shakes his head as though he’d been the adult in this situation. “It’s a shame, though. Phase Two has also failed - take the L, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad.” 

“L.” Kugisaki echoes.

“L.” Todo.

“L.” Somehow Toge.

Megumi nods. “Loser.”

And somehow that hurt the most—

He groans.

Todo huffs. “Can’t believe you just got framemogged by the TJE class monitor, old man.”

Toji whirls around with a glower. “Mugged? I’ve never gotten mugged by anybody-”

“But since you’re all just begging me—” Todo turns to the bemused others with his arms crossed importantly. “-I’ll teach you the true art of rizzing.”

.

.

.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE THREE: A DATE.

Status: -84834832849 aura.

A date.

Not one he’d asked you out on, of course. 

Spring had neared like a reawakening of the Earth; the breeze was warm. The Sun cascaded softly. The birds were twittering. And Fushiguro Toji was losing it—he had already had enough of making a fucking fool out of himself in front of you.

And now he was about to do it all over again.

Megumi’s elementary school was hosting a picnic with the kids in Ueno Park, in honor of the cherry blossoms beginning to open up. 

Parents were invited too, of course. 

And it was inevitable that you’d be there.

Now with that kid Todo - a student a year older than the trio, it seems he’d found himself attached to Itadori though Toji has no idea how that friendship started - onboard for the scheme, Toji was finding himself pulled around like a marionette. This ridiculous scheme to kinda-sorta try and make you fall in love with him…

That he was going along with.

So for the outing, the four had emphasized that Toji wasn’t to come unless he was looking his absolute best. They’d told him to burn that usual black t-shirt of his - no matter how many times he tried to insist that he had a wardrobe full of identical ones. He wanted Megumi to vouch for him, but the boy had lied.

That traitor. 

Thus on the Saturday morning it’d been planned; Toji spent a good few hours in front of the mirror.

Tugging back the sleeves on his white cotton sweater- he’d been told that people appreciate forearms more this way. Dousing himself in perfume. Putting on one of those face creams Kugisaki had recommended after asking her guardian. Attempting to tame his shaggy, black bangs. He made sure his biceps were looking good that day—and stuffed Megumi into his matching sweater as well n’ rushed off to Ueno Park.

He thought he looked pretty good, honestly.

Todo eyes him warily once he arrives, “…That’s the best you’ve got?”

“The hell’s wrong with it?”

“It’s just…not sigma-”

“Shut-”

A few parents turn to look at him.

“He started it—he—”

After certainly no small amount of bickering (and much apologizing from the woman that seemed to be Todo’s guardian), they managed to make it to the picnic area. Where a row of multi-colored checkered blankets were laid out across the green grass like some form of a quilt—Megumi wastes no time before waddling over to where Itadori and Kugisaki were seated with their families.

And before long, the three kids were tugging several blankets closer together and creating a larger one. 

As Toji sighs and stalks over to them—he’s suddenly stopped by Todo Aoi. Evidently having broken free from his guardian for far, far greater purposes; he holds his hand up and makes Toji freeze. “You have much to learn, don’t you, old man?”

“Haaah?” He balks down at the boy.

“True rizzlers don’t sit around playing teatime with kids—” He throws his arm behind at the other three, “-and my beloved brother, Yuji—” They were related?! “True rizzlers have to be tall and nonchalant even if they’re short and chalant.”

Toji eyes him warily. “…Okay? And what am I supposed to do?”

“Talk. To. Her.”

“How—”

“Go there-” Todo stabs a finger in your direction. But Toji didn’t need it to know where to look. 

He sweeps his eyes across the cherry blossom gardens- and his eyes seem to find you as they always do. Even in a garden of the world’s brightest and rarest flowers, you would be the most beautiful. 

“Brother eugh, you’re getting that sappy look on your face again- nonchalant. You have to be nonchalant!” Todo exclaims.

You were wearing a summer dress that fluttered around you in the soft breeze- and before he knows it, the little boy was pushing him towards where you were standing.

“W-wait—”

“Oh, has Phase Three started already?” Soon enough, Itadori’s voice is piping up right beside him. And he’s pushing Toji, too.

Then comes Kugisaki. “Ooooo they always have a cherry blossom episode! I love those.”

The dark-haired man looks to his son for help, and he pretends not to meet his eye.

Dammit.

“Fine—fine.” An unstoppable force meets an immovable object. Toji’s pushing back against their persisting guidance, and they just won’t have it. You’re going to notice him being made a fool again. “I’ll talk to her. Don’t rush me—I said don’t-”

“Why is it that every time there’s trouble, it’s got something to do with the five of you?” 

Too late.

With your hands on your hips, you’re walking over with a playful smile.

Though there was nothing playful about the way his heart thunders-

High-pitched giggles emanate from behind him, and he doesn’t have the time to compute before all three sets of small hands - and Megumi’s mildly disappointed stare - vanishes. The kids are running off, leaving the two of you alone, once you’ve properly walked up to them—leaving Fushiguro Toji to fend for himself and also…collapsing to the ground. Because of the lack of force from behind now, his ass hits the soft grass and you’re trying not to laugh from above.

Pretty hand reaching out, “Everything alright, Fushiguro-san?”

“Toji.” He somehow manages to blurt out, taking your hand and getting to his feet. “Call me Toji.”

“Of course.” And then you’re sharing your own first name. He repeats it like a spring breeze.

Then, like the fool he is, Toji stands around admirin’ you—long enough that the silence stretches a little awkwardly, and you’re starting to shuffle on your feet. He hears a chorus of small groans from somewhere behind him, and quickly amends- “Uhhh, do you like walks down cherry blossom paths?”

You’re raising a brow in faint amusement, “Yes?”

“Have you walked down cherry blossom paths?”

“Not this year.”

“Will you walk down cherry blossom paths?”

“Fushiguro Toji, are you asking me to walk together?” You bump his shoulder with yours, then loop a hand around arm - he felt like arm candy, but don’t save him—Toji was exactly where he wanted to be - and start walking between pink-shedding trees. “You should’ve just said so. Should we have invited Megumi as well?”

“Who’s Megumi?”

Your startled laugh echoes—and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

The two of you loop around the pathway and then back again in companionable silence; though questions and confessions constantly bubbled up to Toji’s throat. Are you having fun? Is his body too warm? Can you hear his heart beating? Do you like the cherry blossoms? Do you know you’re far more beautiful than them?

Why do you glance at him with that knowing smile? 

What secrets do you hide?

Before he knows it, the two of you have reached the spot where you met once more. And four eager children wait for something to happen- for something to be said.

Toji knows he might not get another opportunity—so as soon as the cherry blossoms are tapering out to more of the green grass, he’s turning to you and stammering. “I-I have something to ask…”

“Yes?” You smile.

“And it might be strange-”

“Yes?”

“And weird-”

“Oh, yes?”

“And creepy- don’t be afraid to say no if it’s creepy.”

“Huh?”

“But…” He feels the question: would you wanna grab coffee sometime? claw at his throat. Toji knows you’re waiting, anticipating—and then a cherry blossom flutters down and lands on your crown—making you look far too angelic. “Would you…happen to know that Japan is turning footsteps into electricity.”

You balk. “Excuse me?”

Toji whispers to himself faintly. “U-using piezoelectric tiles…every step you take generates a small amount of energy. Millions of steps…together…”

“Okay, old man, let’s get you to bed.” Todo’s - Todo, of all people - is coming to his rescue. Ushering him away, whilst his son hopefully manages to cover for his father with a good excuse—

“I do not know that man.” Megumi tells you, then leaves.

You’re left shrugging. Ah…

As they’re walking back to their picnic area, Kugisaki murmurs. “This is the cherry blossom episode. Next is the episode where you get hit by a truck-” Toji really hopes it is. “Guess this’ll be that sort of unfinished love drama…”

“My uncle loves hitting people with trucks.” Itadori beams. 

Megumi smacks his forehead once more-

Toji narrows his eyes. “You’re gonna give yourself a concussion if you keep doing that.”

The boy smacks his head even harder. “I hope so.”

Toji mutters to himself. “Fuckin’ me too.”

Behind him, he already knows that Inumaki is jotting this somewhere in some bushes. 

As the picnic continues—more and more of Megumi’s friends join their combined blankets. Toji notices you fluttering about, too.

So caught up, in fact, that he doesn’t even notice four matchmaking masterminds roping in their schoolmate Yuta into a deep conversation.

Toji sneezes- someone must be talking about him.

.

.

.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE FOUR: THE MARRIAGE.

Status: Toji, you’re scaring the huzzzzz-

It seems that Fushiguro Toji was getting married.

Though not exactly of his own volition.

And to whom, exactly? Well, that would be none other than you—

The wedding shall be held in the idyllic venue of Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary’s sprawling playground; amongst the swings and pieces of chewed-up bubble gum stuck underneath slides. Music shall be provided by the choir team. Snacks are Goldfish crackers and nothing more—you won’t want to miss it. 

Don’t bother to RSVP.

Invitations are open to no one, he’s bound to make a fool of himself.

Again.

Toji should’ve known that something was up the second Megumi told him to come for pick-up a little earlier than usual. Elementary classes ended their day with around fifteen minutes of playtime, before official pick-up commenced.

And though Toji didn’t mind coming in earlier - he usually staved his entrance off for the allocated time so Megumi didn’t have to play with his dear ol’ dad looming over his shoulder.

Something had to be wrong- maybe he was sick? And yet…Megumi was the type to never let out even a peep even if he was—he’d have to be dragged out of class and still try to convince Toji that he was feeling well enough to go back. He’d never leave hints like that.

Maybe he didn’t like playtime anymore? That certainly couldn’t be it- playtime always exhilarated Megumi, no matter how much his deadpan son attempted to hide it. He loved his friends. He loved the small rabbit pen that the school had. He especially loved the twin black-and-white wolf spring riders on the playground.

Or maybe…maybe he was getting bullied-

Toji shakes his head clear of that thought immediately.

He’d no sooner be bullied by his son than have his son be bullied-

In fact, before he’d met Itadori and Kugisaki- Megumi loved the playground for…very…different reasons. He’d pile his ‘opponents’ high like a small kid mountain. 

Toji shudders. 

So what could it be—?

That’s exactly the thought tumbling ‘round in his mind as he walks up to that multi-colored painted building. Instead of going up those steps, however, he’s rounding the corner towards the playground on the other side - where he could hear cheers, laughter, and shrieks. Those youngsters touched the air around them with happiness, and it made some part of Toji’s chest soar to think that his son was one of them.

That’s until he’s actually in-view of the playground and spotting you. Right in the middle of the chaos of elementary classes in playtime. 

At the foot of the slides.

A bundle of weeds in your hands

A paper veil atop your head.

With that kid Yuta from the grade above Megumi’s stood solemnly beside you. An officiant. 

It looked like…a wedding.

And the space in front of you was empty for your partner.

Ah.

He looks at Megumi who was avoiding his eyes- so this was the plan…

Fuck.

He must have made a noise of bafflement- because just then you’re turning and letting a smile splash across your face. You exclaim. “Ahhh—there’s my groom!”

Oh…oh, he might faint.

Toji feels numb to the small hands that tug on his arm- “C’mon, c’mon! You’re late, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad—!” And he’s being dragged all the way to the front of the slide, where his bride-to-be was awaiting him, it seems…“After this we need time for the divorce-”

“No, the divorce should happen like four episodes later.” Kugisaki rolls her eyes.

“There shall be no divorce.” The seven-year-old Yuta speaks above them - out of them all, he seemed to be taking his role the most seriously. And he beckons the happy couple closer to one another—fuck, Toji couldn’t even meet your eyes.

Standing in front of you, he stuffs his hands into his pocket and keeps his eyes trained on the ground- giving you a brief nod. “‘Sup?”

“On second thought, there may be a divorce.” Yuta solemnly declares.

“Hey-” Toji sends a glare at the black-haired little boy with the wide eyes, then crosses his beefy arms. “So are we gettin’ married or not? Chop chop.”

You shake your head fondly, “Don’t worry- we cut into rehearsal time for this, it seems.”

“Start the music…” Kugisaki whispers to Megumi…simply standing on the sidelines and sinking deeper into his bangs with every passing second. “The music—!”

Megumi lets out a sigh beyond his years, and clicks on the classroom speaker they must’ve brought from inside. 

In mere seconds, Stateside by PinkPantheress with Zara Larsson starts flooding the playground. Kugisaki hums to herself with a smile- “PinkPantheress n’ Zara always makes things better.”

Soon enough Yuta’s reading out of a scribbled notebook in his hands, “We’re here today to um- something about marriage.” He looks between the two of you—“Hold hands, please. They always do that in the movies.”

The two of you share a look.

And then you do.

Your fingers are warm n’ perfectly fitted in his - he doesn’t have to think to curl his own fingertips around yours. It’s as if his hands were made for holding yours—the thought zips through his body and he wonders why the hell he was getting emotional as though this was a real wedding…

Yuta continues, “-ummm, something about love.” Toji almost jolts. “Something about caring. Something about taking care of each other when you’re not feeling too good- like my momma always does, heh. She makes this chicken soup that-”

“Get on with it—!” Kugisaki hisses.

“Wait- what sort of chicken soup?!” Itadori pleads.

“That’s my rizzler! Toji bro—!” Todo cries.

“Oh, yeah—” He looks back down at his useless notes. “And stay together forever and ever and ever for at least 67 years no matter how far apart you are, or how scared of your feelings.” Yuta looks at Toji pointedly- who did this kid think he was?! “Does the happy couple have any vows?”

And maybe this was it.

Maybe this was his moment.

Maybe this was…

Toji’s scarred lips open. “I-”

Suddenly the speaker playing music explodes—not literally, though for a moment there it did feel like it. The dance-pop song that’d been playing inexplicably heightens in volume until their ears rung- and Megumi hastens to turn it down. 

Kugisaki smacks the speakers with her rubber hammer a few times before it stops. Then with nothing to play in the background, she elbows the pink-haired boy in his side—“Yuji, hit it!”

“Me?!” Itadori yelps, before noticing everyone’s gaze upon him. It’s slowly dawning upon Toji that this might not be the best place for a real confession when Itadori suddenly starts doing some confusing two-step. “You gotta go and I can’t…ehh, sorry. Uhhhh…Nepal. I just don’t want to say that-”

“Please.” Megumi drones. “Please stop.”

He stops.

Mutely, Kugisaki smacks the speaker once more and Stateside blares again.

Toji turns to the officiant- and shakes his head.

Yuta looks at you, “And what about you, Ms?”

“Oh—my vow is that you’re all getting extra homework if eeeeevery single one of you doesn’t dance to the reception tomorrow.” You look at each and everyone.

Small faces scrunched in glee.

Yuta hisses at Itadori. “Time for the rings—the rings!” And the pink-haired boy startles to hand them to him- just a single one plopped onto Toji’s open palm. It was one of those cheap ring pops; still slightly sticky and encrusted with flecks of strawberry candy from before. The actual candy part of it had been very-obviously eaten…

“Sorry.” Itadori still smiles. “I ate it.”

“And the…other ring?”

“I ate that, too.” He excitedly claims, “Plastic and all!”

“I…love whatever’s wrong with you.” Toji furrows his brows. “But also what.”

“Enough talk—exchange the rings then vow your undying love!” Kugisaki yells. “Then die!” She turns to some of the other kids looking at her strange- “What? I don’t mean it like that—the drama’s just better when they die. Where are you going- where are you-”

“Scary kid.” Toji comments. “But sweet. But scary.” 

Megumi distances himself from everything.

Before long, Yuta’s announcing that they ‘exchange’ rings. 

You mime putting one on him.

From the sidelines, Todo sobs into Itadori’s t-shirt—seriously, were they actually related or not?! “Marriagemaxxing already…I’m so p-proud of you my rizzler…my brother in rizz…my sidekick…”

He jerks. “Side—”

Yuta speaks. “And do you, Ms. Teacher—take this auraless man to be your husband?” He can already tell who came up with this officiant’s script- but before he can throw a glance at the trio and Todo, you’re nodding.

“I do.”

Toji feels his heart flutter. He grows warm.

And his fingers are just as tender and sweet as they slip that ring pop onto your left hand—“Then I announce you married- uh. Smooch?”

“Euuuuuuuugh! Gross-” Megumi wails.

If Toji thought that he’d been warm earlier—then he wasn’t prepared for right now. It feels as though his entire body was on fire from the inside; every vein, every cell, every single part of him that hummed with delight at the notion. That made him blush.

So embarrassingly, as though this was his first-ever crush.

Toji catches your eye- and you give him the briefest of nods. 

And then he’s leaning in…he’s hearing your breath catch- and pressing his lips to the back of your hand - just the lightest of grazes, where the ring pop stood out - before pulling back just as quickly. Nothing indecent. Nothing that would give away anything to you—

That ring…

It tasted sweet on his lips.

The surrounding kids cheer- loudly. Now it seems that everyone in the playground had joined in on this little act—and that’s exactly what it was.

Just a little act.

Toji’s lips quiver with the beginnings of a sentence he’s been aching to say for so long-

And then the school bell rings denoting time for pick-up.

Around you, the kids run to their classrooms and their backpacks - excited to tell their parents about what they’d just done in the playground. And as the sea of small bodies moves and thrashes against the two of you…Toji just remains standing. Staring. 

Something within him still unfinished and unsatisfied—

You’re keeping his gaze for a few more seconds, before finally dropping it and unscrewing the plastic ring from your finger. “I uh…sorry about that- and thank you for playing along.”

“Yeah…” He faintly says. “Yeah, no problem.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile. “And if you don’t mind, I should probably…”

You gesture to the parents that had started walking in now, and he jerkily nods. “Yeah- yeah, go do…that.”

“Yeah, I…” You’re then holding your hand out to him- nodding at him to keep his palm open. Then dropping the strawberry-scented ring pop into his hand. “Guess the divorce came a little sooner than expected, huh?”

“Two seconds, that’s a new record.” 

Starting to walk back—you briefly wave. If he was a cockier man, he’d have called you nervous. “I’ll see you at the talent show, ex-husband.”

“Hopefully sooner, ex-wife.”

“Oh- yes, the upcoming parent-teacher meetings.”

“That…” Toji murmurs to himself. That too, he supposes. 

And as he watches you leave…Kugisaki is the first to speak up. “Not even a date? Awww man, I hate slowburns.”

He gapes, “I uh…”

“No, he got scared of his feelings—” Itadori adds. Toji squirms. “Did you know my uncle says he doesn’t have feelings? My grandpa agrees.”

“Dad.” Megumi pulls on Toji’s t-shirt to get his attention. 

“Yes, son?”

And so deadpan, so unexpected- “You fumbled just like Klay Thompson.”

Dammit, son.

Speedwalking to the school with them. “The fuck just happened?”

That one he mouths- he mouths. But Inumaki writes that one down fast-

.

.

.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE? CURRENTLY ON HOLD…

Reason: Parent-teacher meetings.

Status: Dire. Auraless. Megumi doesn’t claim him.

Will the plan have to be abandoned?!

“So.”

“So…” You’re twiddling your thumbs together on top of the desk, eyes trained on Toji whilst his own dart around the colorful classroom. “Megumi’s such a good kid- honestly there’s nothing more to say about him.”

Because today was the day of parent-teacher meetings; that half-an-hour where parents sit before you and leaf through crayon drawings and mathematics that made them cringe. Toji himself hadn’t been the biggest fan of them when Megumi was younger—why the fuck would kindergarteners need parent-teacher meetings?!

But now that his teacher was you…

At least it gave him something even more to look forward to.

So he sets his elbows on your desk and leans in—every meeting had been conducted sitting on opposite sides of your teachers’ desk. It was far too much proximity for his poor heart to take—but you sure as hell won’t hear him complaining.

Not a single peep.

He glides his roughened fingertips over the pages before him- Megumi was never the type to be cagey about his grades. And either way he did get everything above an 80%. 

Toji tries not to let the tips of his lips twitch upwards into a smile—especially as he looked over one of the artworks that Megumi had done: a slightly-smudged drawing of three small figures, one with pink hair, another with a brown bob-cut, and then a portrait of himself. 

And then two larger figures on either side of them

Toji and yourself.

The prompt had been Megumi’s family…

“You should be very proud, y’know.” Your gentle voice breaks through the quiet air in the classroom. 

Toji had come slightly after the other parents, as organizing Megumi’s little sleepover at the Itadori household (with Kugisaki and Todo in tow) had been absolute chaos. Today they’d offered to take the children in because apparently Itadori had gotten some earthworm movies he’d wanted to share. And though Megumi didn’t seem particularly excited at the prospect of earthworms, he’d been begging for weeks to have this sleepover. 

Now. The sunlight dipped beneath the horizon outside, casting the classroom into its warm embrace—like kindling fire. The light bounced off your features and touched his lips, too. Where things were perpetually encased in day and the hours were hot and lazy—like the leaping spark from a fireplace. 

For the first time in a long time, Toji lets himself smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

You’re nodding with a smile- “He speaks about you a lot, did you know that?” Once Toji shakes his head, you’re continuing. “About how strong you are, about how you’re funny—” Your nose crinkles, “-but an awful cook.”

“Hey!” Toji squawks, indignified. “I try.”

“I know.” Something about that felt so knowing. “It really is a pleasure having Megumi in my class- he’s quiet but I think Yuji and Nobara are slowly bringing him out of his shell. He’s diligent. He’s quietly kind. He’s a sensitive kid, he notices things faster than most.”

“I’m sure he gets that from me.” He smirks.

You hum, staring at the blood-orange sky outside. There’s a long pause before you speak again—“And I think it’s sweet how he’s trying with his friends to set the two of us up.”

Toji’s jaw drops.

Actually drops.

For a moment he’s speechles—hell, he thinks he might be speechless till the end of time. Sure, he’d guessed that you must’ve noticed something being off…but he never thought you’d actually realize the two of you are being set up—!

You catch the look in his eyes- “Oh, c’mon. You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice, did you?”

“I uh…”

“The cookies. The wingmanning. The wedding. The plans-” Stifling a laugh. “Elementary schoolers aren’t very good at whispering, you know that?”

“Damn.” Toji fists his hands, softly thumping them against the table. “And here I thought a bunch of elementary schoolers could fix my love life…”

You hum—something coy in your tone. “Why don’t you fix it yourself?”

And Toji’s snapping his head up so fast that he thinks he might’ve caught whiplash-

“Would you…” He swallows. He starts off unsurely. “…maybe…like to get coffee sometime-”

“Yes.”

Barely waiting till the sentence flies off his tongue before you respond- it makes Toji wonder whether you’ve been waiting for this as long as he has. 

Embarrassment shows in your slightly-frantic movements, as you start picking at the stationary on your desk and smoothing out your clothes. Nervous. It hits him. “I uh…you’re my last meeting of the day, actually. I’m free to grab some coffee now, if you want?”

He’s never agreed to anything faster in his life.

Less than twenty minutes later and the two of you have found yourselves in the cute new coffee shop down the road. The faintest memory of sugary goods still etched on your smiling lips, and your cups of drinks warming your hands—the two of you were sitting and talking at a window booth when the rain had started.

“Oh, shit…” You peer outside. “You were right.”

“Hm?” Toji takes a sip of his black coffee.

“The weathermen always lie.”

More than the panging warmth at the idea that you’d remembered a throwaway comment he’d said- was what you’d followed that sentence up with.

“Hey, I know this is out-of-the-blue, but…I don’t have an umbrella with me, and taxis are costly this time of evening.” You shift in your seat, avoiding his eyes for perhaps the first time since he’s met you—“My apartment’s close by if you’d wanna maybe grab an umbrella from there? You could even hang around until the rain subsides, if you want…”

This time, it’s his turn to reply embarrassingly fast. “Fuck yeah.”

And so you’d ran.

You’d ran hot on each other’s heels as though someone was chasing you—maybe fear, maybe your inhibitions, maybe the feeling that Fushiguro Toji wanted to kiss you so badly.

So bad. 

You’re sploshin’ the five-minute walk it takes to reach your apartment- before you’re both darting inside and closing the door to the world. Just the two of you. On opposite sides of the narrow vestibule connecting the entrance to the living room. To your bedroom.

Toji presses himself against the cream-colored wall and breathes in. heavy.

This entire place carried your sweet, sweet scent—and it was driving him crazy. 

In front of him, your hands seemed to absent-mindedly reach for the umbrella holder- blindly clasping around one polished handle. “I uh…”

“You-”

You’re both attempting to speak at the same time—then abruptly stop when the other speaks. You gesture for him to continue, and he does the same for you-

“I just meant- here’s your umbrella.”

“Thanks.” Like a zombie, he’s reaching out and clasping it. 

This was it—this was really it.

He was about to leave.

He was about to wake up from this dream.

Before Toji’s letting the umbrella drop to the floor- and you’re both crashing into one another. It’s built and built—and the coil of tension had tightened and tightened before finally snapping—!

Lips against lips.

Tongues against teeth.

His lips sliding against yours and positively ravishing you—one of his large hands finds purchase on the back of your head. His warm touch. Toji feels the pretty pulse on your neck quicken as he tips your head back and delves his tongue even deeper - memorizing the taste of you to every crevice in his brain. 

Your essence…he wants it imbued into him.

Absolutely starving.

He just couldn’t get enough of you.

He just couldn’t get enough of you.

The two of you are making out sloppily- and the sounds of lips lifting from lips permeates your entire apartment. Punctuated occasionally by the hollow grunts that Toji himself was letting off. 

Your cunt twitches between your legs - and you’re pressing yourself into Toji even further. Pushing against his toned body. Rolling your hips against the raging, hot erection that’d found itself home in his pants. Just the sheer size of it- the thickness, the way it throbbed against you was enough to make you let out a soft, simpering nose.

One that he’s gladly swallowing up whole—greedily, even. Because that’s exactly what he was.

A fucking greedy man for everything that’s to do with you.

And he’s waited for far too long.

In no time, you’re taking him by his larger hand and pulling him to your bedroom. Leaving the umbrella and your reservations behind. 

Toji lets out a hallowed groan as he’s being pushed back into the bed- the backs of his knees hitting the mahogany bed frame. Your hands flying to the ties of his trousers. Your own knees striking the floor—

“Easy there…” Toji brushes one hand down the side of your face- reaching back into your scalp and tightening. “Don’t want my girl to get hurt.”

“Your girl?” You grin. “You haven’t even asked me out on a proper date yet.”

“And you should be buyin’ me dinner before this. Lecher.”

You’re huffing as you’re able to tear that wretched fabric off his muscular legs- finally. And your jaw…drops…

He was so…

Fucking big. 

From the moment his achin’ cock’s freed, Toji springs out and seems to pulse even thicker—the start of his base reminding you of one of those soda cans. Toji reaches down to wrap his other hand ‘round it, his palm covering some of the dark curls decorating his pelvis, and he seems to look even bigger when framed like this.

Rock-hard. Covered in numerous veins.

They were dappled all across his inches and throb-throb-throbbing- so ravenously hard that Toji’s length twitched the moment he’s feelin’ the cold bedroom air. 

And not only was he big, but that curve of his shaft was delicious.

It made you wonder what it’d feel like to have him curve up inside…

Upwards tilted. That crown of his craning up at the ceiling. The pointed end of his cock ended off with his blushin’ mushroom tip- so fat n’ already soaked in his wads of sopping precum. The color of it was the prettiest tannish pink you’ve ever seen in your entire life—and so you really couldn’t help but lean down and press a chaste peck-

The taste of his salted-caramel pre takes over your tastebuds immediately.

“O-oh…” Toji’s head throws backwards with a gravelly groan. “Don’t go teasing me now, doll.”

“You’re the one that’s been teasing me this entire time.” You counter. Though you’re loosenin’ your jaw and taking him in even further. Inch by solid fucking inch.

It’s hard to stuff Toji’s cock all down your throat like you so-badly wanted- he was big. N’ those zig-zagging veins down his length made you want to linger…massaging the roof of your mouth with a few semi-gulps that rub his inches on top. Again and again.

You’re shuttering your eyes and moaning deep into his shaft at the carnal scratch he somehow seemed to soothe.

“Ah ah—” You’re hearing him before you’re feeling him- suddenly, two thick fingertips are pinching your poor nostrils together. Eyelids flapping open to stare up at him.

Toji has the most cocky smile across his beautiful scarred lips as he peers down at you. “Now what’s this about refusin’ to take me anymore?” He asks you, punctuating the that of his sentence with a thorough nudge of his bulbous tip down your throat. “You don’t wanna take me any further, doll? Or you…”

And another.

Though, this time, it wasn’t a nudge at all.

And Toji’s massive length is pushing apart the wet walls of your throat- and mazing his throbbing cock inside. The noises you’re letting out when you slurp him up are so pretty—

And the older man uses his second hand to wipe a stray tear off your cheeks, “-can’t?”

“Mmm–mmmfg.” Choking down both your needy sobs n’ your breaths. You’re clawing at his thicks- so thick and toned. 

“What? Whaaaat?” He pinches your nose even harder. “Wha’s the matter, teach?”

“You-” Barely able to mangle out some semblance of coherent syllables - you’re going cross-eyed trying to both take him in deeper, and look at the fingers blocking off your airway. “Mmm- ngh.” Whatever mess of a sentence that was meant to be, it’s coming out embarrassingly jumbled.

Embarrassingly so.

And tears are just starting to stream down your cheeks- your cunt’s getting even wetter at his actions and pushing against his toned calf- once he finally lets go. Finally. 

With a loud pwah! you’re removin’ your swollen lips off of his cock. Feeling for your poor nose that’s startin’ to sting—“So mean, Toji. I should’ve bit that dick off.” You joke.

He looks at you with a leer, “We both know that out of the two of us, you’d be the most disappointed with that.” And it was true- it really was true. But Toji takes it a step further by lazily reaching his calf over and pushing it against your cunt. Dripping wet even through those panties of yours- your pretty dress was hiked up n’ already exposing that sweet puddle that’d formed in the middle of your underwear. 

His mouth waters at the sight. 

“See what I mean?” Then Toji straightens up and pats the top of his manspread thighs. An invitation. 

“But, I haven’t even…”

“S’okay.” He nods at you reassuringly. You didn’t have to worry about any of that needing to please shit with him- he’d be the one driving you wild tonight. “I have something even- heh, sweeter in mind.”

And hopefully every night after that.

In a mere few moments, you’re settling yourself on Toji’s lap. And then he’s attacking your mouth in a mind-numbing kiss, tongue swipin’ between your lips before ultimately sucking on those tastebuds of yours. Sucking. Like candy. 

He then maneuvers the two of you to then drape you across the sheets; slightly sodden with lust and perspiration. The blankets stick against your clammy skin as Toji presses your hips down on the mattress- “Down, girl.” His fingertips dig into the side of your waist.

“What’s that about not teasing?” You pant.

With a low chuckle, Toji presses a peck on the left side of your hips—then creeps himself down until his handsome features were huffin’ and puffin’ against your sodden cunt. His own hot breath seemed to reach out to you—curling, cloooouding, it seemed to stroke down that watery slit of yours. “Fushiguro Toji never teases.”

“You’re teasing right-”

“M’just waiting for the perfect moment.” And there’s not a second wasted- before Toji lurches himself nose-deep between your legs and gives your dripping pussy a good lick!

“O-oh…” Your mouth waters at the brazen touch- body jolting just a little. Though if you thought that Toji would let you so much as squirm whilst he’s locked between those thighs of yours, then you’d be sorely mistaken. His fingers dip down the expanse of your legs and clutches you close against his ravenous maw—“Aren’t you going to take off my panties, Toji?”

“Don’t be vulgar, doll.” He mutters- just to tease you. “M’gonna eat you through your panties, of course.”

And it’s the only warning you’re getting.

Before Toji latches his puckered lips to your cunt- properly, this time. And his loooooong tongue was lavishin’ across every inch of your pussy he can reach. Through your panties—Toji gapes his mouth open and laps like a fuckin’ animal at the leaking slit your underwear was stick to, your swollen folds, your utterly needy button. 

“Mmmmpf-” Toji’s prominent nose pushes apart your pussylips, and he’s feelin’ for that puckered, pretty nub. Already throbbing like you’ve been so impatient for him this entire time.

He presses himself closely against your clit for a few seconds—throb-throb-throb!

Like a ticking time bomb. He’s driving himself absolutely wild; before snakin’ your panties to the side and thrashing his tongue against your raw cunt. Slurping. Sucking. Everything and anything of you he could find - he’s pushing himself so nose-deep into your pussy that he damn-near can’t breathe—and eating you out like an animal. “Mmmm, don’t you move a s-single inch now.” Toji tightens his hold on your quivering legs. “I haven’t even started yet.”

“Started what…?” You babble out - your hips were yearning to push off the creaking mattress.

Though all it took was a fraction of his strength to pin you back down, roverin’ his tongue on the slick-glued insides of your folds. Rooooound and round in circles that left your mind dizzy. “Heh- what else d’you think?” Toji answers. “M’teaching this pussy how to take Fushiguro Toji, that mouth of yours barely could.” 

“Rude.”

Before you could pipe up anything more witty, he’s spankin’ four fingertips down on your glistening pussy. “S’not rude if it’s true.”

“I’m the teacher here, though.”

“Then maybe I’m the principal.” He leers- swabbing the fat edge of his tongue into your hole. “Gonna grade you and everything…”

“That’s fuckin’ corny—”

“Made your pussy weep, though.”

And just in good time, too- because almost immediately he’s letting that first inch of his tongue fuck inside your cunt. Just the first inch. But it was already enough to make your toes curl n’ your back arch—Toji’s wet muscle was just so thiiiiiiick.

He’s pluggin’ up your orifices with a mere few thrusts - the ridged texture of his tastebuds kneading your tight walls. Shovelling you open. Shovelling himself deeper inside. The flickerin’ tip of his tongue laps against some of your most tender areas n’ then pushes up into the sensitive roof of your cunt- 

“Sh-shiiiiit—” You’re keening out in the prettiest trill he’s ever heard. Toji has the audacity to let out a wet giggle at your dripping core - clenching ‘round him.

His ears burn at the musical note- and before long, your folds are burning at the searing smack! that he’s planting on top of your cunt. Your head drops down to stare at him in shock.

“That’s a C- for handling yourself.” He echoes. Two more spanks follow—before Toji nuzzles your gummy pussy n’ laps his tongue across your clit. “But an A for pretty moans.”

“I th-think that grading syllabus is a little- ngh! skewed, don’t you think?”

Yet another spank.

“Not at all.”

He was merciless. Ruthless. 

Absolutely impounding you with those slashing, scouring strokes of his - Toji’s thrusts manage to reach so much deeper than you’d have ever guessed. And when he felt that his tongue was stuffed inside your pretty pussy far ‘nough, he’s flaring those edges outwards and scraping his tastebuds down the sides of your walls. Stimulating your snug channel sooooo fuckin’ good—

“S’that so?” Toji flutters his long, dark lashes up at you. It takes a second for you to register that you might just have said that last thought out loud. 

Though you’re merely steeling your expression and nodding-

He’s plasterin’ his fingertips against your puckered pussy with a chuckle. “Cute. But flattery’s gonna get you nowhere- with all this damn squirming you’re doing, your C’s dropping down to a- haaaah, D.”

Your eyes pop open. “B-but…”

“And just think-” Toji continues without a single speck of mercy for you. His tongue’s tunneling and thrusting- faster than your frenzied mind can keep up with. “-that if you’re reacting like this to just my long tongue…” Thrust after thrust after thrust—the curvaceous inches of his tongue don’t leave a single bundle of nerve unprobed. Zig-zagging and swabbing wildly - your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. “-yer gonna fucking run away when it comes to my cock, doll.”

“Oh—” You’re tumbling your hips constantly up to him. Attempting to heighten the friction. “Promise I won’t. Promise-”

“And now look at you.” And after all he’s taught you…Toji grasps his left hand underneath your arching body. Grabbing a nice handful of your ass cheeks- it makes him smile to watch your mouth drop in shock at the lecherous action. “Dropped down to a D-.”

A fucking minus.

That earns you several more wet spanks. And then a fucking pinch—right on your clit. 

And Toji merely trundles, “Where the fuck does this pretty pussy think she’s going?”

Crashing his lips into…yours. Quiverin’ your weakened limbs around the back of his neck- 

Your ankles are weakly latching themselves there- slightly glissading down his glossy strands. It messes up his hair just a little, and Toji’s soon finding himself smirking against those pussylips.

“Tch…fine, you get a B for neediness.”

Only a B?!

But perhaps it was better that you’d kept your mouth shut - mostly because you couldn’t speak over the primal moans that kept escaping your throat - because then Toji’s sinking his canines ‘round your clit and swervin’ his face aaaaaaall around your pussy. Every corner and inch.

He’s fucking coating his features in a layer of your shimmering slick.

Like a damn medallion.

It clings to him in long, ropey excess. 

“O-oh my god—” And then your trilling vocals break the very second that he’s intruding your hole once more- this time, with his fingers…

You weave your own hands into Toji’s sweat-dampened hair and hold on for dear life. 

“Hmmm, a little possessive, huh? M’bumping that neediness to a- hah, A+...heh.”  As a reward, you’re getting his textured lips encasing your sopping clit—just so desperate and damn-near flinching with how hard you were pulsing between your legs. Needing. Needing. 

Your breath comes out in stuttered bursts, and it takes everything in you to echo. “A-and what do I have to reach to- mm, get your cock, Toji?”

“I dunno, aren’t you the one with a t-teaching degree?” He’s babbling- before that haziness in his eyes clear up once he realizes what he’s just said. “No, wait—I’m pretending to be…I’m the one gradin’ now…”

Toji looks down at your pussy as though offended. A spank wasn’t enough, he’s properly spitting. 

“This pussy’s made me pussydrunk, heeeeh?” He scoffs n’ edges in to suckle on your clit—all while his two bulky fingers were scissoring between your pussylips. “An A+ for that…”

Pussydrunk.

Though you’re not doing too well yourself.

You’re just sizzling from the very insides - even your very vessels seemed to be vibrating with that carnal sort of needy for him. And as Toji’s slashing strikes with his fingers accelerate, so does that kindling pit of pleasure in your stomach. “I th-think m’close, Toji…”

“Close?” Toji’s breath hitches. “Close? And we haven’t even finished the grading yet—buck up, doll, because m’not holding back anymore.”

“Th-that was you holding back?!”

Evidently so. 

And you can surely attest to that—in mere moments, he’s adding in a third finger with a lecherous slurp! of his honed inches bein’ all sucked in. Down every single joint. Down to his damn knuckles; you’re feeling those mountainous ridges push up against your sensitive pussy, and Toji’s three fingers were rovering and reeeeeaching every single spot inside. 

Claiming them as his. 

Toji laps up a silken line of slick that’d dripped from your cunt and down his wrist—you were claiming him as yours, too…“Got a second to hear your grades, doll?” Whilst the desperate pleads start to bubble at your throat- “Won’t be given’ you this cock until you do…”

“Then tell them to me—” You shriek. Haaaauling at the thick tufts of his scalp, “Fucking tell them, Toji.”

“Well, manners fuckin’ F.” Toji huffs- but he couldn’t fool you. Ohhh, the expression on his face was pure ecstasy as you guided his lapping face around your cunt. “But manners for this pussy…hmmmm…B.”

“Only a fucking B-”

“Roughness: used to be C- but oh, m’thinking it’s now an A.” He comments - the more and more frustrated you become, the more your carnal urges surface. Your grip is searing on his scalp. Your legs are locking around his neck. “Doesn’t mean you can go easier on me now, teach.”

“Fuh-fuuuuck, Toji—”

“Wetness: A+ of course.” Rolling his eyes as if that should be obvious, “Sweetness: A++.”

“Fuck-”

“That mouth of yours? D.”

“Fuck you.”

“M’trying to. And hmmmm, about the way she clenches…” He ponders- before then directly diverting his round, rotund fingertips to the spot just a few inches into your channel. He’s already mapped your smallest ridges n’ crevices out by all of these thrusts- and you’re feeling pure white-hot pleasure run down your spine as Toji then rams his dexterous fingers into your fucking g-spot. “That’s an A+++”

Because of course, you’re keeping him hostage.

Of course, you’re squeezing your velvety walls around him until his joints were turning white—and Toji’s fingers were havin’ a tough time moving back and forth stuffed between those clingy walls of yours. 

And yet…he’s scissoring apart your needy grip and rammin’ into your deepest, most sensitive depths. 

Again and again and again- “Yeah…this pussy’s definitely gonna take me now. Isn’t that right, teach?” But the only thing your fried head can urge you into doing is nodding. “Tha’s what I thought. Dumbification: A.” Toji cocks his head. “Don’tcha think I’m being too nice with these grades?”

Shaking your head fervently- through sobs.

“Mmmm…well, I think I am.” His canines teasingly grip your clit and draaaaag that swollen nub out. “S’alright doll. After this, you can grade my cock when s’time…”

He smirks - still keeping that firm attachment onto your most sensitive place - and you can feel it. You can feel it—

“And you can be as fuh-fuckin’ ruthless as you want.” Toji’s long fingers then curl inside your cunt for a final time before…“Because I know m’gonna be fucking my girl right.”

Before you’re shattering.

Breaking into your high—it first starts with an explosion of pleasure between your legs- before teleporting right up to your fuzzy head. Your thighs were quaking. Your pulse was thundering so loud you could hear it with your own ears- and it felt as though those torrential waves of bliss were just taking you over.

“Oh—oh, fuck.” Clawing your hands through Toji’s hair. The only anchor you had was this- and the tunneling digits that were fingering you to ecstasy- he was hitting at every peak. He was elongating your orgasm more than you ever thought possible. “Fuck, fuck, fuck- fuuuuuck, Toji.”

“Tha’s right- say my name.” He grunts. Such lecherous slurps! echoing from between those legs of yours as he sucked n’ sucked on your clit simultaneously. “Say my name- say my name. Who’s making you feel this good?”

“Toji.” You hiccup. “Y-you, Toji.”

A sudden spank! resounds across all four corners of the room.

Your high crescendos even further than your limits- or at least what you’d assumed them to be. 

“I was lookin’ for sir, but that works, too…” Your jaw drops at the boldness of this man. 

“Sir? D-don’t think that you’re getting off easy when I- ngh, when I finally ride you stupid.” As the last few pangs of your orgasm shimmer through your body, you’re managing to gather your thoughts better than before. “What do you think you’d get anyway?”

Toji pulls off your oversensitive pussy with a loud plap! “A’s across the board.”

“Oh, don’t be so humble.”

With that said- you’re reaching out and grabbing Toji by the collar. He gets dragged upwards—the bed dips as the larger man cages you in with his strong forearms. He leers, “I think you pass, don’t you?” You could see that somewhere during makin’ out with your pussy, Toji had tugged down his pants- likely to jerk himself off as he did so.

And his long cock stood aching and rock-hard between his legs.

That round, reddened tip of his seemed to wink up at you as he dribbled out a single bead of precum. Aaaaall the way from the edge of his cockhead, and aaaaaall the way down to his bushy black curls at the base. 

Your mouth waters. 

Hands on his body- his fingers tearing through your own fabric. Soon enough you’re naked beneath him—and he’s just as devastatingly bare. Perfectly-aligned abs. Chiselled pecs. Fushiguro Toji had a body that made him look as though he was hand-carved by Hercules himself- it was just so sensual the way his ladder-like core pushed down against yours.

And it’s so difficult to keep a stern face facing him when those bulky biceps of his were flexing—right next to your face. 

But somehow you manage- you were a professional after all, weren’t you?

“I’m serious about what I said on riding you stupid.” You’re murmuring up at him, “Flip over.”

He smirks, “And if I don’t?”

Within split-seconds, you’re grabbing a fistful of his hair and watch as his cock twitches at the rough manhandling—at the way you’re turning the two of you over and straddlin’ his hips. Toji bucks with a groan underneath you, but you’re quicker than that- and you’re clasping a hand around his gulping throat. Sweaty and scorching to the touch .

“Ah ah-” You tut. “You already had your fun. Now it’s time for mine…”

“Aye aye, teach.”

“Quiet coyote.”

Toji mimes zipping his lips shut—but there’s openin’ back up again almost instantly once he feels your sultry hips swivelling down his cock. You duck a hand underneath yourself to grab his throbbing hilt- and before long, his wet tip’s smushing apart your pussylips. He’s intruding that hole of yours and bucking up into where you needed him the most. 

He shovels in a few more inches with an echoing sluuuurp! of your pussy viciously gulping him up.

“What did I…oh.” Beside yourself, your head’s throwing backwards at the sheer pressure he was creating inside. “What did I say about staying still?”

“Actually…you didn’t say anything about that.” That grin of his was infuriatingly handsome. “Still, mmm, cockdrunk?”

“You wish…” Though that wasn’t an outright denial.

It was true that your mind was coiled with fog after your last orgasm; the dopamine still coursing through your body. And the way that Toji’s thickened, textured length was pushing your walls aside wasn’t helping—it was making you feel sensations so raw and carnal- that saliva’s dripping down one side of your mouth after a mere few semi-thrusts.

Just the bulging edge of Toji’s tip scourin’ your channel inwards.

“Awww, don’t tell me I was right?” He asks you- and it registers as mere distant words. Toji reaches out his right hand and wipes away that splatter of spit - before bringing it up to his own mouth and sucking. What an animal. “Can’t grade ol’ Toji’s cock? Or is it- heh, so good that I’m breaking all the scales?”

“You fucking-”

“Yeah yeah, wish- right?” He scoffs meanly. But honestly…he might be teasing you but he was completely infatuated with the idea of your smart mouth babbling for him like this.

The way you were twitchin’ with every light graze of his flared tip.

Your insides were getting used to him, and Toji was only stuffing himself even deeper. “Right…” Though of course- Toji himself wasn’t doing all too hot. Just a single one of your adhesive-like clenches and he can’t help but buck—

“Easy, eeeeasy- you can take me, my girl.” He grits his teeth. He blinks back the tears in his eyes. He’s guiding your impatient hips n’ grinding your cunt dooooown onto his pelvis. “Fuck- fuck, and how d’you grade the stretch?”

Your eyes pop open. “The stretch?”

“Mhm- the streeeeetch—yeah?” Toji’s chest rumbles in delight as he watches your every microexpression and reaction. Even the smallest curlings of your toes. “Such a big stretch feels good, yeah?”

“Mhm- I rate it a…” Your jaw hangs open- as though to purposefully influence your grading, he’s shovelling his length a few more times. Faster. “B.”

And that…what the fuck?!

“A fucking what?” That makes Toji’s maw gape, and his handsome face twist into something of bewilderment. You look at him and you honestly let out a little chuckle - but that seems to only spur his driving hips even further. “Oh noooo, doll. You’re joking.”

“I said what I said.” Biting back. “It’s a B because…” Throwing your head back and arching—you’re gaining more movement in your hips and letting him push inside. “-you’re just not- fuck. Bottoming. Out. Fucking do it already—!”

His feet plant ever-so-slightly on the ricketing mattress- and that means you were feeling the plushness of his muscular thighs against your back. Those tendons and rippling strength. There’s honestly nothing more for you to do but gnaw down on your trembling lower lip in the hopes that those embarrassing noises won’t escape-

Because Toji then glues his hands upon either side of your hips and slams your cunt down onto him.

It’s such incredible friction. It’s so many of his winding veins- pushin’ apart your walls and scouring you all over—

You’re arching your back into him and gasping- “A…”

“A what?” 

“A for your veins.” And that honestly manages to catch him off-guard and make him let out an exhilarated bout of laughter. Being in your presence was like four shots of espresso—fucking you was four shots of vodka. Straight. He’s dizzy and he’s clamorin’ his numerous inches up your pretty channel, watching as you drip glittering globs of slick all ‘round him. 

“Oh…” Toji seems to grow even bigger inside you. He grips you as hard as your pussy was clenchin’ him. “Keep going-”

“And a- fuck, an A for your pace—” Just perfect. Dizzingly fast; whilst still being steady and balanced enough that you were able to feel his textured length slipping into every spot he needed to slip into—“And a…a fucking F for your attitude.”

“Hey…” Toji juts his scarred lip out in a mock-attempt at a pout. “Don’t imply m’sassy when your pussy speaks like that to me.”

Right on cue, you’re letting out some of the most sinful slurps as your cunt slaps right down onto him. Onto his hefty balls. 

Toji’s thick brows raise at the sounds- even he didn’t think that your pussy could get this chatty. Mouth falling agape as he watches you drip-drip-driiiip.

You’re grabbing onto both of Toji’s sculptured deltoids for balance, increasing your pace as your legs start to grow limp. Perhaps noticing your little struggle, he’s supporting one of your legs with his left hand—and thumbing over your clit with his right. “And then? What else—dick got yer tongue?”

“You fuckin’ wish.” You snipe back.

“Yeah.” Toji simply replies. Without a single warning, he’s craning his head up and signalling you to open your mouth- instinctually, your tongue sticks out. Perfect for him to spit—a heaping mess between your lips. “You looked so pretty with my cock stuffed down your throat, too.”

Grumbling - though it was just for show - yet you swallow. “That was a B- since you almost missed.” One of your hands reaches up to swipe at the splattered saliva piled on the edge of your mouth.

“Oh, no.” With such a loving glint in his eyes, he’s leaning up and kissing the mess he’d just left behind. “That was totally on purpose, doll.”

“F-filthy…”

“You know it, teach.”

Both of your bodies were slick with sweat and glissading against one another- Toji himself was especially frenzied with his movement. His thrusts. His battering rams. The way his pointed tip struck the end of your cervix—bottomed-out, and then smeared apart your channel to drag aaaaaaall the way back down. Aaaaaaall the way back in.

And through it all- you’re sputtering out the same ruthless grading of his cock. Red-hot and ruining your insides with every thrust. Pump after pump- “Deepness…B.”

Bruising his tip’s circumference at the very back of your pussy. Dribbling out ribbons of pre. 

“Hmmm, alright a B+.” Pleasure runs through your body the more n’ more Toji grows irritated- because that meant the more he was trying to prove himself. The harder he was fucking you. “And the- hah, curve: an A.”

“Damn right.” That, he could most certainly be proud of. That slightly upwards curve of him was the perfect shape to mold your walls- to let his honed tip be the searchlight.

And your sweetest spots were what he was aiming for.

After a few more vulgar strokes, Toji’s rediscovering and ramming himself into none other than your g-spot. That throbbing bundle of nerves that’d just kept on and on waiting for him to probe you with his shaft—perhaps a bit too long at that…“What took you so long to find that spot again, Toji?”

“Take it easy on me…” He pleads with a slight hint of amusement. “Your pussy was to- mmm, hypnotizing. You can’t blame a guy for taking a little time…needy fuckin’ pussy.”

That last bit was said to himself- underneath his breath, in fact.

And yet, your proximity means that you’re catching onto every single word - and without a split-second of hesitation you’re countering back. “Oh? What was that…I’m sorry, maybe I was- hngh, hearing things? Because it just sounded to me like you wanted all your g-grade to plummet to an F?”

His lips part. “You wouldn’t…”

You peck him on the mouth. “Try. Me.”

And fuuuuuck—it’s clear he’s not expecting the way that sends pangs of excitement coursing through every inch of him. It’s clear he doesn’t know what to fucking do with himself- once he propells his ruddied cockhead to hit against the door to your womb.

And Toji’s thighs are left shivering at the way your walls immediately rush to embrace him.

Suctioning him.

A ribbon of drool drips slowly from the edge of his mouth, “A-and what do I have to do to make it up?”

“Hmmmm?” The fact that you made the Fushiguro Toji stutter so blatantly like this…it was driving you wild. It was making the cockiest smile plaster across your face- he wanted to kiss it away so bad but you were teasingly inching your lips away, making him work for it. 

He growls and repeats- “What do I have to fucking do to get- hah, extra credit? To make up for my…” Toji’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs. “-mistake.” 

“There now. Was that so hard to- hah, admit?” You coo. “Gimme a D.”

“Huh?” Toji gapes. “Aren’t you the one supposed to be- ngh, giving out the grades?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just telling you to shut up and fuck me harder with your fat dick—”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He lightly stirs his hips in semi-circular motions to get the most out of his veiny cock- to make sure that those prized n’ precious vessels were massaging your insides just right. “Fuck-” Your entire upper half is shaking from stimulation - “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck—just like that.”

“Hngh, oh yeah?” Honed canines beared.

“Faster-” And he listens.

“Harder.” And he listens once more.

“Fucking-” You’re it escape you in a trilling tone. “-b-breed me…”

Toji’s breathless once the words register to him. “Yes, ma’am…” 

Pumping up into you - meeting your bouncin’ cadence - like he was angry with you. Like he was trying to shove to your deepest depths n’ then probe his erect cock even further. Like he was trying to meld your bodies into one—

He was fucking you in a way that was so animalistic.

And Toji can’t help it- fuck, he can’t help but throw his head back—it just feels so good. Eyes shuttering. Brows furrowing. His hips unsticking from the now-dampened bedsheets to arch properly up into you-

But that’s when he feels those familiar fingers ‘round his throat again.

“Ah ah ah—” You tut. Your vision was just a little bleary from all the tears and pleasure clogging up your mind- “And who said you could- hah, move, hm? Seems like you’re the one running away, not me. What? Scared m’gonna milk you too hard, Fushiguro Toji?”

He growls. “You little…”

“F- for handling yourself.” Remembering just how much he’d teased you earlier for similar reactions just made these words so much sweeter on your tongue. “In fact…”

Toji looks eagerly up at you through his bangs.

To which you’re taking your lazy time changing your sloppy cadence into figure-eights instead. It swerved n’ stirred his pussy around your depths; and made it so that the most sensitive parts of Toji’s veins - that pinkish line underneath his slit, the frailest of his veins, where his balls rested - were being stimulated. Making him pour out wads of precum into you as though it was a waterfall—

“See me after class.”

“Fuck yes.” Toji grunts to himself- his hair was flying into his face, and every bit of his skin seemed to be furiously flushed. “Fuck—fuck, I need to cum inside you.”

Plap after plap after plap! of his hips hitting yours. “Mhmmm—”

“I n-need to fill you up until here-” His thumb briefly detaches from your clit to graze your lower stomach, where your womb was wont to be. “I need to feel it pouring out of you- then fuck it all back in.” And he was pistoning into you like it, too.

“Shit, m’close-”

Hard. Fast. The wads of his sappy precum only get stronger and more frequent - “I n-need to…”

Toji’s voice hatches into nothingness in his throat, and you’re cooing down at him cutely. “What’s thaaaat?”

“Need you to make me a f-father for a second time.” Toji utters.

And then with a particularly hard press on your heart-shaped, swollen clit—you’re both tumbling into your highs together. Tumbling into one another as you both hold each other through your strong orgasms - even stronger than the one you’d had prior.

Zaps and twinges of pleasure. 

Goosebumps dapple across your skin.

Your spine arches into him. 

Now you have Toji’s ravenous cock bulging into your walls- his globular tip searchin’ for every sweet spot and pinpointing them using his shape. That only elongated the sparks of your high until it felt never-ending; and dopamine washes over your body and leaves you wracking. Hands clawing down wherever you could latch onto the older man. Your knees squeezing tighter around his waist to milk him through his own euphoria. “Yes—yes, just like that.”

“Oh…oh, look at the way m’dripping out of you…” Toji’s mouth unfastens. Your cunt had already been bloated around his cock- now with his volumes of cum being webbed up inside, it was almost too much for you to handle.

And Toji’s orgasm rips through him strong—even his powerful limbs were wrapped around you as he powered through it. His thumb tremblin’ as he rolled and rolled.

He breathes out hot and heavy when those fingers of his dare to wonder…right along where a sheen was spreading along your inner-thighs. Every satiny drop of cum he was pouring out gets slid down your cervix- and then trickles deep inside of you. “So messy, this pussy o’ mine.”

“Yours?” You gasp. Though even that tiny reaction meant you feel his warm wetness splosh! inside you.

“Mhmmm—” He nods drunkenly. Left arm wrapping behind you and pulling you to him - resting you against his chest. “But don’t worry…this cock is yours, too.”

You scoff. “The audacity. Didn’t I give this cock an F?”

“Yeah, you sure did give me a fuck.”

You decide that the only way to shut up him is to overstimulate him by fuckin’ him—perhaps unfortunately for you, Fushiguro Toji seemed to have had the same idea.

“Mmm, now what about the parent-teacher meeting? We already- oh, handed out the grades, didn’t we?” He’s whispering in your ear once he’d somehow manhandled you into a doggy position. Sculpted abs pressed against your spine. Beefy arm wrapped around your throat in a headlock—

“T-to say what?” You’d wheezed out.

“That m’not done fucking this pussy pregnant.”

.

.

.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE FIVE: 𝕲𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖚𝖕…

It’s so over.

Today was the day of the talent show; and Fushiguro Megumi had never felt more untalented. 

And no…it wasn’t because of any of the other competition—if he had any idea how these things go, at the end they were going to say that everyone won and everyone gets a prize. This was elementary school, after all. And he was quite grown up. 

Anyways—the point is his, Itadori, and Kugisaki’s magic show had been quite the hit amongst parents especially.

And that wasn’t why he was feeling untalented. 

It wasn’t because Todo’s PG-censored version of a Megan Thee Stallion song had been honestly…quite good. It wasn’t because Yuta’s puppeteering act had been something that’d drawn endeared laughter from both kids and parents alike. It wasn’t even because of the act that was happening right now…where Inumaki was standing alone on center stage with a notebook opened up in his hands. The last act of the night.

The rest of the show had gone swimmingly.

Inumaki was a bit more of the quiet type, but at this moment he speaks into the mic loud and clear. 

“For my talent today, I am going to read out vocabulary words taught to me by Fushiguro-san. Thank you Fushiguro-san!”

The audience coos and turns to try and find the aforementioned man.

From his position peaking-in from backstage, Megumi watches his father pale from the first row. And then sink deeper into his seat.

Deeper.

And deeper.

And deeper-

“Bud.”

Though the rest of the audience nods in sweet endearment- Toji’s damn-near jumping out of his seat in surprise. That was…clearly not what he had been expecting.

Not at all.

Inumaki continues.

“Cookie.”

And Toji has gathered enough bravery to…perhaps properly sit up in his seat. Clapping along with the other parents- looking around to make sure that he wasn’t just hearing things. And this was actually what Inumaki was reciting.

“Concussion.”

That one draws some admiring sounds. Such a big word for such a small kid—good on Fushiguro Toji, right?

He might just be safe…

“And divorce.” That one draws mixed reactions- but Inumaki closes his infamous blue notebook, and Toji lets out a sigh of relief - one that was nearly audible backstage. 

Along with the rest of the parents, he can whole-heartedly start clapping now. Maybe even throw in a cheer or two.

Let the audience know that he was the mastermind behind such academic advancements. Yeah, maybe they should pay him.

But Inumaki wasn’t done yet.

“And my favorite yet—” Which one was it? Which other important vocabulary word had Toji so graciously bestowed upon this kid? Which other aspect of his life had Toji alleviated by the sharing of precious, precious knowledge? Inumaki firmly grips the mic. “Is fuc-”

Megumi leaps onto stage and snatches the microphone out of Inumaki’s hand before he can complete that specific word…

But the implication must have been evident either way, because then each set of eyes turns behind to the black-haired man. And glares. Toji flips them off. The applause is more polite than willing now. Then he decides that he’s never showing his face ‘round here again, he’s never stepping a foot through those damn multi-colored doors if it fucking kills him, he’s never—

Just then, you’re stepping onto the stage and graciously taking the mic from Megumi. He’s so back.

“Hello? Is this thing on?” You chuckle into it. 

And Toji…Toji knows. He knows he wouldn’t mind being thrown a dirty look from every single person he meets- so long as you’re there to spot him out in a crowd. Tugging his son close to you—as you beckon all the other kids on-stage and start your speech.

It’s mostly thanking those that made it possible; the parents, the staff, and especially the students. Toji isn’t quite ashamed to admit that he’d been too busy drowning in your gorgeous tone to even register your words—

Expectedly, you were telling the kids that everyone won - and Principal Yaga had been called on-stage to hand out prizes to every one of the kids. And as Fushiguro Megumi holds his prize - a custom trophy with his name, a certificate, and a bunch of art supplies - he’s suddenly remembering why he’d been feeling so untalented.

It had been a week since Phase Four of the mission to get you and his father together. And it had been a few days since parent-teachers meeting and Toji had come to pick him up the next day, smiling dopily.

Megumi’s sure his father’s losing his marbles. 

And he has the strange, sinking feeling that after tonight- they’d either forget about the plan or abandon it altogether. Feeling so hopeless—it’s so over.

“Hey, Fushiguro…” Itadori not-so-successfully whispers to the black-haired boy, ultimately drawing attention from whomever was around the two of you. “Fushiguro, isn’t that your dad coming up the aisle?”

“And why does he have such a big bouquet of flowers?” Kugisaki adds on.

Though…once Toji reaches the foot of the stage everything becomes very clear.

Because with a hand coming up to your mouth, and the spotlight shined on you, he lovingly hands you the plush bouquet of roses from below. Roses. Red, red roses.

With a silent thank you—you’re kissing Toji on the cheek.

Every. Single. One of their jaws drop-

Inumaki starts scribbling something down in his notebook.

Yuta sticks an approving thumbs-up.

Even some of the parents in the audience whisper to one another - most nod approvingly. 

And Toji catches Megumi’s eye to wink. “We’ll talk later.” He mouths.

Megumi nods mutely- excitement thrums through him so fast that his fists clench—and Itadori has to clasp onto them. They succeeded? They really, truly succeeded?

His eyes are glimmering as he turns to Itadori and Kugisaki- both nodding excitedly in agreement. They couldn’t squeal like they wanted to right now with Yaga’s speech droning on in the background, but after…after, they had a loooot of questions for the new couple. 

Together; they loop their arms together in a silent victory.

They’re so back.

Though being silent was never something for Todo Aoi.

Yelling. 

“Fushiguro Toji rizzed Ms. Teacher before GTA 6—?!”

Status: W. 

A/N. Honestly AHAHAH- this was so unserious.

“No, um… you can…”

He doesn’t wait for permission, no he’s Satoru Gojo, so he just walks right inside, peering at you, you see the reflection of yourself in his glasses as he shuts the door behind him with a resounding click. “Perfect, I need you, sweetheart.”

“Need me?”

“Mhm…” his eyes flicker across your body, hands tensing. “You don’t think you’re showing too much of those pretty tits in that?”

“I so am not!” You tug at your blouse, frowning. “It shrunk in the dryer a bit, that’s all. It’s still professional!”

“Professionally slutty,” he leans against the door, smirking at your pretty little scowl. “I should have you in those glasses and a little teacher costume just for me, beating my ass with a ruler.”

“What!?” He snorts at you.

“Just kidding. I’d beat your ass.”

“Go on now,” you click your pen nervously, feigning irritation as if your knees aren’t knocking together at the idea of him doing it. “You can’t be possessive and jealous of what I wear.”

Satoru’s lips curve up, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “Sure I can, aren’t those titties just for me?”

“Jesus…”

“As I said, I need you.”

“Right now!?” Satoru’s locking the door in your office, smirking right over at you as you sit the next day – a promotion, getting your own office from his father, what better than him fucking you in it?

“Free use this week – remember?” You blush when he walks over to you, hands entangling in your hair and tugging, your hands eagerly go to his belt buckle. “I can pick any hole, right?”

“I’m not doing anal the first time on campus, you perv!” You hiss, he’s grinning like the little psycho he is. “Fine, any hole you psycho.”

“Then I want your mouth,” he murmurs, you’re so quickly on your knees he almost trips, smirking down at you. “Did you miss me already?”

“Shh,” you’re tugging at his pants eagerly, giggling when you see the digimon boxers. “Aww, so cute!”

“Shut up,” he’s all blushing now like he’s a cutie pie and not a psycho.

“Shut me up.”

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh as if he’s kidding – he’s not fucking kidding, Satoru Gojo is as in love with his professor as any boy could be, especially when she’s tugging the elastic of that waistband down, freeing his cock that’s already dripping with white. “Shut you up, hmm?”

“Next time is my choice,” you whisper as you lean forward just a bit, little pink tongue lapping at his leaky tip, making him have to cover his mouth to hide his whimper, leaning back on your desk. His knuckles whiten as he grips it so damn tightly, his breath catching.

“Mnh… god your mouth…”

You should feel more guilty, sucking your student’s cock, a psycho student at that, but when he’s whispering your name and guiding his cock right along your tongue, the salty pre coating your tastebuds, you can’t find it in you to be. He’s mumbling incoherently in just the first motion of your mouth, easing his cock until the pink tip hits your uvula, making you swallow reflexively. 

“Fuck, just breathe,” he murmurs softly, glasses fogging up from his own damn breath as you choke on him, eyes glimmering. “Pretty professor, you’re all fucking mine this week, huh? Mine to use any time I want.”

Your answer is a little whine, tears slipping hot from your eyes when he shoves deep, you’re gagging as you breathe through your nose, half of that nine inches already buried in your throat. Satoru’s eyes are dilated and dark as he mumbles your name over and over like a devotion, putting your hair into a firm ponytail in his fist and then tugging hard.

“All mine,” you’re his to use – you think it’s only for the week, but you just fucking are his, all your holes belong to him, you belong to him. “That’s it – f-fuckk…”

You swallow him down deep in your throat, his hips begin to rock so that his cock is gliding even easier, your throat stretching as you look up into his eyes so goddamn pretty. He can’t even handle how much he feels – beyond getting his cock sucked, what you fucking do to him was something he could never explain, the possessive nature just growing every minute with you.

Satoru could never let you go.

You don’t want to end this either, it’s in your mind as he whispers that filthy mix of praise and degradation just how much you want it to last.

“You love it, me using you, hmm?” Your answer is a whine, as he does just that, using your mouth exactly as he wants, stuttering as he presses you fully down by the back of your neck, until you’re choking on him. The office door is locked, but the thought of someone walking by, hearing the muffled sounds of your submission, makes your cunt clench around nothing.

You are damaged – never has it been more clear than the fact that sneaking around in your brand new office with your senior college student fucking your throat with wet filthy sounds. You’re so damn needy your hand slips down between your thighs, touching yourself over those already soaked panties, trembling as your lashes flutter closed.

"Look at you," Satoru’s voice is broken with desire as he watches tears stream down your cheeks, easing into your throat while you take him deeper. "My pretty professor is on her knees f’me, choking on my cock. Aw, you cryin’, baby? Look at that, mmm, s’pretty..."

You want to retort, to say something bratty to his ass – like, fuck you – but your mouth is too full of his thick length, your throat stretched beyond its means until it’s burning. Instead, you just moan around him, the vibrations making him hiss, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

This was the only other time you’ve sucked Satoru aside from your class room, when he finished in your mouth, and both times had you craving impossibly more, to have that salty release down your esophagus, into your tummy. Your nails dig into his pants when he pulls back suddenly, letting you gasp for air in greedy gulps.

“You’re touching yourself, teach?” He teases now, there are strings of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his glistening cock just dissolving as he brushes your hair back gently. “Does sucking you make you that wet?”

“Mmm, just lemme finish…”

“You wanna swallow all this cum?”

Your answer is lapping back at his tip – Satoru hates wasting cum in your throat when he needs you full of him, but he’s not turning down his eager professor who is fingering herself as she sucks him. Satoru brushes your hair back and holds you there, moaning at the sight of you as he jerks his cock in filthy strokes.

“Toru, stop teasing,” your brows are all drawn together in frustration, he chuckles as he holds you back.

“You’re so wet I can hear it, messy lil pussy, god…” He’s pulsing as he drags his tip on your tongue. “You love being used by me, any time I want.”

“Shut up and cum, Satoru,” you finally say, exasperated and in that fucking teacher voice of yours, he moans out, spurts of cum landing right on your outstretched tongue, whimpering as he makes sure it all lands there.

As pretty as your face would look with cum, he wasn’t going to do that to you, not when you have work – but as soon as you were just his? Oh he’d cover every inch of your body and face in it. You swallow him down, wrapping your lips around his tip, making his lashes flutter shut.

“I’m so mad you ever did this,” he mumbles all dizzy, you’re whining out, your fingers failing.

“You’re toxic,” he laughs, tugging you up, leaving his cock all glittery with your spit, tugging you to him and kissing his taste off you. “Mmm, you took every last drop, didn’t you?”

Your answer is a whine, he laps his own flavor right off your tongue, when the door has a knock, you curse, eyes shutting.

“Y-yes?”

“Professor, I need some help with a project,” you’re aching and haven’t cum, Satoru knows it too, smirking as he brushes your slit with his fingertips.

“Toru, stop!”

“Use my fingers, baby.”

“Professor?”

“Yes I’ll be free in ten! Meet me in my classroom?”

“Yes of course, thank you!” Satoru glares now as you smack his hand off.

“I don’t like you spending time with other students,” you snort at him, tugging his boxers up for him and giggling all breathless. “Don’t you laugh at me.”

“It’s insane, I don’t look at anyone the way-” You pause, as the very real words threaten to spill from your lips.

Satoru knows it too, looking right at you, lashes trembling, tilting your chin up to peer down at you. “What way?”

“You know,” he sighs, leaning down when another knock occurs, you swear Satoru is going to lose it. “Yes?”

“There’s a meeting in an hour, I thought you’d like to grab some food first?” Satoru will kill Professor Nanami.

“Oh… um…” Satoru’s hold is so brutal on your waist you damn near squeak, smacking his hand again. “I have to help a student, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll grab you a bite.”

“Thanks, Nanami!”

“Thanks Nanami!” You smack a hand on this little shit’s mouth and scowl, he has the audacity to bite your palm.

“Will you stop?”

“Why does everyone get to have time with you?” He hugs you to him, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “Should only be me.”

You enjoy the embrace too much, though he’d just fucked your damn throat filthy, nothing you do with Satoru is just sexual, there’s always this entire other layer with him, one that fucking ruins you. You’re clinging to him tightly, nails pressing against his dress shirt, sighing at how good it feels in his arms.

Are you this delusional, you’ll imagine this could work?

“Kiss me,” you ask as you lean back, the way you asked the first time he’d made you soak him in your car. Satoru exhales, kissing you over and over, when finally the two of you pull back.

What sort of week would this be if this was only Monday?

*****

The week of having you be ‘free use’ to Satoru Gojo is anything but normal – the damn man’s stamina should be studied because he never seems quite done with you, as if he’s eating up every bit of this week before the two of you face the inevitable truth – that you can’t really be together.

Aside from the fact that it’s a complete career ruining relationship there was the simple fact that Satoru was just from a higher income bracket than you’ll ever be. Not that it mattered to him or you, but considering there is an event he has to go to which is basically just a modern day debutante ball explains it all.

He’s miserable, you’re jealous.

You don’t say that, though, you act like it’s fine and that you’re not angry every time you see a girl giggling at him, see his mom coming to campus and damn near letting these girls throw themselves at him. Satoru acts entirely uninterested, but a part of you wonders how long before getting a girl eight to ten years younger than you will take its toll on him.

You believe he wants you now, you see it, but to be delusional would simply lead to more pain than you’re equipped to handle. Those feelings of inadequacy from your family growing up and from school days rear their ugly head every time his father makes a comment to you – a command, really – telling you what to do in order to earn this funding or that.

You’re basically just a shiny figurehead for the Gojos and the university to be ‘so including of the middle class’ as if you’re the poster child for the fact that you can move up the ranks as a ‘normal girl’. You keep getting asked out by even more men in the faculty, which you politely push off rather than go out.

That’s even more dangerous – turning down Professor Higuruma, who by all fucking means is not just age appropriate, he’s hot and sweet. Turning down the second date with Nanami with an excuse of being exhausted for the moment, turning down any and every date because you’re getting fucked by the deans son in every damn room he can find.

Yet where would it lead you when the newness wears off?

You try to shove it back, every time he watches one of those attempts he’s grabbing you any moment he can, making sure you’re paying all the attention to him.

****

Tuesday, Satoru finds you in the faculty lounge as you’re brewing a cup of coffee, trying to grade papers while pretending not to notice Satoru watching you from across the room as he walks in. You ignore him to piss him off more than anything, there was nothing quite like making Satoru mad at you, having him walk up as the coffee filters into your cup.

He leans forward, the door barely shut, not even fully – a hint of it cracked open to where anyone can see, standing behind you with his lips brushing against your ear, pressing you against the counter. “Satoru…”

"Missed you," he murmurs against your ear, his hand easing up your skirt – that little pencil one that cups your ass so perfectly it’s insanity, already finding you soaking wet for him. “Ah, did you miss me too?”

“N-no,” you say, he chuckles a bit, running his fingers up and down the slit, pressing the cotton up. “We can’t just fuck here, psycho.”

“I know that,” he tugs your panties to the side, your eyes roll back when two fingers plunge inside your needy cunt. “Did you think I’d only use you?”

“Y-yes I mean, mngh,” he covers your mouth with one big hand, his fingers working your cunt with devastating precision.

“Shh baby, can’t make all those cute little moans right now,” he whispers softly, the sound of your cunt just squelching as she sucks him in so greedy is filthy and loud in your ears. “Sometimes I just wanna feel you cum, wanna see how you fall apart for me, not just me cumming. And you look so pretty when you do.”

Fuck him, truly, for saying that, for making you cry out against his hand and grip the counter as he brings you to a quick, quiet little orgasm right there in the faculty lounge. The heel of his hand is right against your clit as he whispers your name softly, moaning right with you, feeling you spasm around his thick fingers.

“There you did s’good f’me,” he sounds drunk off you, even though he’s straining against his boxers, turning you around to kiss you, to tug you tight against him. “I’ll be off campus all day, I need to feel you.”

You swallow down your nerves when he tilts up your chin, your hands slipping up his chest. “I missed you, okay?”

“You sound so mad about it,” he's grinning at you as your goddamn knees knock, aching for him inside you, pulling back when the door opens up, professor Higuruma yawning and heading to get coffee. “Thanks Professor, I appreciate the extension!”

“You’re welcome, Gojo,” you smiled at him, all friendly as the two of you play it off, Satoru almost rushes back in when he hears him flirting with you though.

He can’t flirt like that with you.

He has to figure something out before the week is up, because in no world does Satoru not get you to himself. He eagerly sucks his fingers and moans, lips wrapping those digits to savor your juices, and for the first time he’s finally worried – that his ‘plan’ of making you need him so much isn’t going to work, not when anything and everything plots against you both.

It can’t just be this week – though he absolutely uses it all to his advantage.

****

Wednesday? Well, it’s Satoru finding you in the library stacks, pulling you into one of the quiet aisles between history and philosophy, your two favorite subjects. You don’t even pretend not to want it, you’re kissing him so eagerly, hoping no one can hear those soft sounds of your lips smacking.

“Admit you missed me,” his words are so soft you barely hear them, swallowing nervously as you two look at each other. “Why don’t you ever use me sweetheart, hmm?”

“Should I?” You ask even softer, before pushing him down, making him bite back a moan. He doesn't even speak, just drops to his knees as you guide him, shoving your pretty little dress up. “Yes, I missed you, Toru…”

“Fuck,” it’s moments before Satoru’s tugging your panties aside and burying his face between your thighs, looking up at you under those thick lashes, practically slurping you all the fuck up.

“Mnh!” You slam a hand on your own mouth, muffling your cries against one palm while your fingers tangled in his hair, soft and fluffy from his shower, just a few droplets damp on certain strands. You’re rocking your hips up and down for impossibly more as you feel his tongue fuck into you.

You’re using him – using his face and mouth, taking what you want to the point he’s about to bust in his own pants, as he devours you like a starving man, like he’s dying of thirst and you’re clearly the only source of sustenance.

Devoted.

Satoru’s fucking utterly devoted to pleasing you, it’s all he wants to do as he kneels before you – his pretty professor – grabbing one of your thighs and plunging his tongue in your quivering hole, his nose bumping your needy clit. The bookshelf leaves marks as he drinks you down where damn near anyone can see, and at this point you almost fucking want them to.

You’re tired of hiding it, you’re tired of feeling bad you want him, and perhaps that’s more dangerous than him making you quiver right ‘round that wet muscle. Having you squirting down on him in the midday. In the fucking library with your Edgar Allen Poe book falling to the ground beneath him.

He leans up and you already are swallowing your own juices, this close to begging him to fuck you again – after three days of just teasing, but you can’t do that, even if you’re dying without him inside you, even if you miss him in your bed even though it was just a weekend.

This couldn’t end soon enough, every moment you’re more fucking precarious.

Especially when his kisses ruin you.

*****

Thursday you're giving a lecture when he slips into the back of the auditorium, taking a seat in the last row. You try to focus on the task at hand, at giving them your experience in writing and what it really means to you. This is a perfect opportunity, but just this morning his texts were ringing in your mind.

Satoru – skip your birth control, pretty please?

You – no you psycho!?

Satoru – baby please, the sooner I have a Gojo heir, the sooner my parents can stop trying to set me up. I need my cum inside you to take <3 Doesn’t Fluffy need a little sibling!?

You – you don’t bring Fluffy into this! That cat is meowing, missing you and everything, what did you do?

Satoru – then come over Friday. Our week isn’t up, right?

You can’t believe him really – but at the same time, you don’t want him dating other women, don’t like that shit one bit – and there is an event at the country club his parents run tomorrow. You’re invited – oh so generous of them, truly.

Those pretty blue eyes just locked right on you make your skin flush, you hope not visibly, so damn flushed in fact you can feel your ears are hot. You try to act casual and laugh a bit at some of the comments, but your thighs shift behind that podium, your panties – this pretty light blue to match his eyes, truly – are damp.

You can’t stop pressing your thighs together, as you focus even harder, even though it was impossible with his presence. Casually leaning back and studying you – you remember his words.

Jerked it in class to you.

Did he really?

Why do you like that, what’s wrong with you!?

You shove it all back as you finish the presentation, the class all files out but he hesitates of course, walking over to you as you gather your things, the last student leaving making the door echo as it shuts, heavy and loud. His words are running through your head in every way possible.

You loved teaching, right? You loved this job, and you can’t throw it away for a whim of a younger guy, as much as you’re helplessly falling in love. Fuck it’s past that really, you keep almost spilling love declarations every time he’s touched you, so much so as you walk over to your desk you hope he slides his dick inside.

Toxic, Satoru Gojo is toxic and you love that shit.

What would become of you if you just carry on like this?

"Professor," he says softly, pressing you against your desk, so damn tall always – his sheer size steadily fucks up your senses, how big Satoru is. How it never feels like you’re older or more experienced when you’re with him, that’s only when you’re in your damn head.

“Satoru,” you say softly in return, clearing your throat. “Did you need clarification on what was discussed?”

He chuckles a bit, shaking his head and tilting your chin up. "You looked so hot up there. All professional and smart, god I’m always so fucked up by how smart you really are.”

“Toru…” He moans at the name, kissing you, and you fall fully fucking into it without hesitation, without the semblance of some sort of fight with your conscious, whining out as he moans into your mouth.

“Made me want to bend you over that podium and fuck you in front of everyone, but I’d never let anyone fucking see you naked,” you gasp at that, as he pulls back, his eyes black. “Wish I could chain you up to my goddamn bed and never let you leave my sight."

“Stop it,” your cheeks burn now, but your body responds traitorously, aching with need, cunt already soaking his thigh. “You can’t say that shit.”

He laughs then, all cute like he’s not a complete psycho, cupping your face with one of those big ass hands. “Can’t say what?”

“That you’d chain me, keep me, you can’t, it’s nonsense and-”

He pauses you when he leans over you, a hand on either side of your face. “You think I wouldn’t? If you wanted me to, if you let me, I’d never let you leave my house, just keep you there forever. But no, I won’t sweetheart because I need you so goddamn much I want you to have your ‘independence’ or whatever the fuck.”

“You… I…”

“You think I don’t need you?” You can’t speak then, rushing off and leaving him, making him damn near chase you down the halls, empty with just a few lingering people.

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean,” you whisper angrily when he catches up to you, “You think you need me. You think you have feelings… you…”

“Stop,” he pauses you right in the hall, turning you to him, your heart races in your chest. “Stop thinking I’ll ever want someone else.”

“It’s just the week, remember?” You whisper now, hand clutching his dress shirt, crumpling the material.

“Yeah,” he laughs without humor. “Just the week.”

You end up dragging him in a goddamn supply closet, cramped and smelling of chalk dust and old books, bumping against them as he locks that door behind you both and he lifts you in his arms like it’s nothing. “Satoru, don’t say it…”

“Don’t say what,” you swallow it down as he kisses down your neck, your lashes fluttering. “What I feel? You’re that fucking cruel to me, huh professor? What, you wanna be bored with Professor Nanami, Professor Higuruma? Think they could take your slutty little cunt like I can?”

“Oh you’re jealous?” You laugh and he scowls, biting your neck and making you gasp in pain. “Maybe those young girls falling all over couldn’t take you and how goddamn psychotic you are?”

“God yes, be jealous,” he moans, looking at you and pressing you against the door, tugging his cock out with a jerky, quick motion, gliding it on your needy slit. “You want me all to yourself, but I thought it was just this week.”

“It is just this week, it’s all it can be,” your legs wrap right around his slutty little waist, thighs pressing as you whine out, feeling his pretty pink tip line up with your slick hole. “It’s all it can be, Toru.”

He pauses, glaring right at you, before shoving his cock inside in one stroke, you almost scream to the point you have to bite your lip bloody, he’s right against your cervix – it hurts after four days of not having him inside you. Pain and pleasure and just sheer overwhelming emotions as he stays shoved inside, pinning you against the wall, his nose brushing yours.

“Just the week, hah… all right, professor,” he murmurs now as he begins to pound his cock into you, yanking a tit out from your blouse so he can cup it, pinching at your nipple and making you barely muffle a cry. “You think I’ll move on, huh? From this?”

“You will,” he kisses you quiet as he takes out his every fucking frustration on your cunt, slamming your back against the door – It's filthy, it’s mean how his cock bullies your walls, but you’re already shattering and squirting before he fills you again, before he pumps his cum inside.

“Stop telling me what you think I’ll do,” he gasps out those words, his glasses foggy from your kisses, moaning as he feels your aftershocks. He kisses up your neck, hot, open mouthed ones as he guides up higher, moaning against your skin. “Stop acting like you’re not all I see.”

“I c-can’t believe it, it’ll h-hurt,” he pauses then, seeing you full of tears and gripping you tightly, shaking his head in confusion just for your alarm to go off. “I have to go.”

He doesn’t try to stop you but he does drag your ass against him before you do, cupping your face and kissing you in the cramped quarters so goddamn desperately, and you fall right into it. Meeting his tongue stroke for stroke, his lips so brutal make you tremble, ready to say fuck all pretense and make yourself vulnerable.

When he caresses your chin and just rests his head on yours, it’s too fucking quiet.

You rush out without another word before you are the one that spills the one thing that would hurt the most, life’s biggest cruelty – that you’re in love with Gojo.

*****

It’s Friday – your week with Satoru is officially ‘over’ and you’re for whatever self masochistic reason going to his parents’ event. Knowing you’d have to see him with girls on his arm, knowing you’d have to see his fucking parents and how terrible they are. Knowing you can’t be on his arm as much as he’d love you to be.

Was it to show yourself reality?

Was it to make yourself see the bubble you’ve been in is just that – a bubble the two of you have hidden in, so needy and lost in each other that the two of you haven’t acknowledged the issues of your…

Relationship?

Even if you quit your career, the scandal of marrying Gojo would be fucking insane, his parents would never accept you, and what would that do to Satoru? No backing of his parents all because of you? What if you fucked up everything because you’re so damn in love with him?

It’s beyond falling now, and it would hurt you both if you told him how in love you were, how obsessed you were – no, you weren’t as obsessed as Satoru, you’re not even sure someone could be that level. But it’s close, the way he’s in your dreams, how he’s in your mind, how his cum was trickling down your cunt so you pushed it back in while you were in your fucking car about to drive home.

Remembering that first time he touched you, the rain that poured down, wanting to skip a goddamn pill for him. Insanity.

Stupidity.

He’s fucked your brains out literally – and you’re not sure you have any ethics left, as hard as you tried to keep them, not when you smile at your fellow faculty members in this fancy ass place, a pretty gown clinging to your body. So damn expensive you’ve snuck the tag in to take the shit back tomorrow.

You see Satoru across the room as someone talks to you and you pretend to act interested, girls flocked around him, the way they are makes you sick, like Satoru is just some damn object. You feel the pit in your tummy grow when his eyes meet yours – changing from bored to dark and hungry, his gaze dragging right down your curves, like he’s touching you.

A girl tugs at him, you’ve seen her before, his parents laughing and talking to their parents – transactional, that’s what they saw him as. It makes you so angry your nails press into your palm, rushing off over to the buffet table to gather your senses before your jealousy gets the best of you.

This can’t go on.

“Professor,” you almost jolt at the touch as you grab a glass of champagne, feeling him right behind you, one of hands snaking around you to grab his own glass, his cologne filling your senses. “I didn’t know you’d be here, but fuck am I glad you are.”

“Are you?” You ask, your voice tense, he frowns at that, turning you around to face him. “We’re in front of everyone!” You hiss, panicking when he tilts your chin up, so damn tall no one can even see you.

“You think I enjoy those boring fucking girls? When I have you that I’m dying to come inside?” You blush furiously, looking down now.

“I can’t do this, seeing you with… I can’t…” You shut your eyes, sighing now. “It’s not a game, Satoru, or a phase for me.”

“And you think it is for me?” You tremble now, downing the champagne as hot tears burn your eyes. “The sooner you let me breed you the sooner my parents can go fuck off.”

“And then what? They’ll hate me.”

Satoru laughs without humor now, shaking his head. “Think I care? Them hating you is a good thing – they’re fucking trash.”

“I won’t ruin your life and-”

“You’re not leaving me,” he takes your hand now, and you pause, heart hammering in your chest as he leads you to the dance floor.

“We can’t dance!”

“Yes we can,” his mother glares as you two walk past her. “Mother.”

“Gojo,” she looks at you now, raising a brow as you both pause. “Dancing with the faculty?”

“Not a problem, is it? That I dance with the prettiest girl in here?”

“Satoru…” You shut your eyes, begging him not to, but in no world was Satoru letting you feel inadequate, letting you leave him.

“Dance with her then, but you’ll dance with every other girl I’ve chosen,” he smirks at her, and she gives you the meanest glare, walking off.

“You’re insane,” his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer than is in any way appropriate, his other hand capturing yours. “She’s not going to let you live this down. People will talk and-”

"Tell me you missed me," he murmurs against your ear, leaning down, you can feel eyes on the two of you – it’s not unheard of to dance together, that’s not it, it’s how Satoru holds you, how a hand slips down your spine.

“Satoru…”

“Tell me it, please… fuck just say it,” his breath sending shivers down your spine, lips brushing your ear, his hand clutching you even tighter.

"I missed you," you whisper softly, clinging to him tightly. “Okay?”

"Good girl.”

“Fuck you.”

He sighs, pulling back and looking at you under those lashes, turning you and tugging you closer. “Tell me you want me."

You sigh as well, following his movements. "I want you."

"Good,” he dips you over an arm, slowly pulling you back up, far, far too close to you then. “Tell me you'll let me breed you.”

“No!?”

“You’re so fucking mean,” he glares and you glare right back. “Just quit this damn job so you can have all six of my kids.”

“I’m not going to have six kids!”

“Why am I in love with a mean ass brat like this,” you falter now at that, tears about to burn your eyes. “Don’t tell me I don’t love you.”

“You don’t.”

“After everything?” His eyes flash with hurt then, hands brutal in their grip. “You think I don’t know myself?”

"I'm trying to protect you, okay? From your parents – from losing everything. From the scandal it would cause, Satoru I love you too much to be selfish and ruin your life."

He pauses, heart hammering in his chest so quickly he’s flush, clinging to you so tightly you gasp, uncaring of anyone in the room – it’s all you.

It’s been you since he first saw you in the hall, all you, only you.

“You love me?” His words are quiet, the two of you not even moving, murmurs from his parents and the people around growing in intensity.

“Of course I do, who couldn’t love you? Who wouldn’t?” His own emotions hit when you tug back, shaking your head. “It’s why I can’t do it – you think I have a lot to lose, and I do, but you could lose everything if you do this. You should go to one of those pretty young girls, Satoru, and see if you find love with someone-”

“I’d never, the fuck!?” You rush out now, and he rushes out for you, only to be stopped by his parents, his dad’s hand on your shoulder.

“It’s enough of a fucking spectacle, Satoru,” he scowls at the old man then, his eyes so bright they’re hard to look at, jaw clenched. “Stop it now before she loses her career, if you even care about her. Before you lose your position as CEO-”

“I don’t want to run your dumb fucking company,” he shrugs his hand off, seeing you grabbing your coat from the front, heart sinking. “I don’t want to be your figure head, I don’t want shit from you.”

“And when your trust fund is cut off, what then?”

“I don’t fucking care,” he pushes past him and rushes to you, he has to damn near sprint as you rush to your shitty little volvo, hands trembling with your keys, pausing you then and there. “Don’t go. Don’t fucking go.”

“Satoru please,” your heartbroken face ruins him when you look up at him, lips trembling as the tears fall, and the thunder starts, rain pattering in cold little sprinkles as your chest heaves up and down. “I will not ruin everything. for you.”

“You are my everything,” he cups your face, resting his head on yours, breaths coming so fast as the rain starts to fall it’s fogging up around you both, you’re trembling in his hold. “All I can even fucking see is you.”

“Don’t say that,” he kisses you, knowing it’ll ruin you, you hardly manage to pull back. “Mmm, Toru we can’t…”

“I’ll leave this dumb party with you then,” he lifts you in his arms and presses you right on the hood of the car, sitting you there as he stands between your thighs, laying over you.

“They’ll see!”

“Let them,” he’s lost in you as the rain starts to fall, making that pretty silk dress cling to every curve, moaning into your mouth. “I’ve jerked it to you since I fuckin’ saw you, turned down everyone months ago just because you exist.”

“Y-you… mnh…” Your hands slide up his chest, one tangling in his silky locks as the rain falls against his back, leaving you protected.

“It’s only you, fuck just let me fill you with babies already,” you giggle then, before you break into laughter, making him bite your neck hard. “Stop laughing!”

“You’re so batshit, it’s…” You sigh now, cupping his face as the sting hurts your neck. “Take me home then, we’ll deal with this mess tomorrow.”

“Fuck I love you,” he can’t stop saying it now, can’t stop kissing you even as the rain pours. “You thought you could leave me?”

“I don’t want to…”

You’re sniffling when he carries you inside the car, you know tomorrow is going to either end your life, his life – or both, but when you’re laying your head on his shoulder and he’s got an arm on you, it’s hard to really fucking care.

That’s tomorrow's problem.

Patreon - Comms <33

you turn to the screen, grin clumsy, leaning forward so it fills up with your face. “hi, kenny!”

nanami softens. “good evening, y/n.”

you beam, but your grin can hardly stretch before sukuna’s palm grabs your face & tugs you into his chest. you pout up at him but his gaze stays glued to the screen.

“kento,” his voice is cool. “the guest list. you were saying?”

you’re buttoning & unbuttoning his shirt with your lips jut out but ryomen sukuna pays you no mind.

“yes,” nanami picks up a pen, neck rash red. “i was saying—“

“kuna,”

you interrupt nanami with a finger tugging at your boyfriend’s necklace. sukuna sighs, doesn’t look down at you or your pout.

“tell me.”

“can we have cake for dinner ?”

“no.” he taps something on his keyboard. “kento, go ahead.”

“right. i think—“

“kuna,”

sukuna breathes. “tell me.”

“you shouldn’t say no to your girlfriend.”

“my bad, sweetheart.” he’s sighing now but his palm squeezes your thigh. “kento.”

“right. as i was saying—”

“kuna,”

sukuna closes his eyes. one second, two, & he can still feel you looking up at him with that soft, sweet pout. he won’t kiss it away. not here, not now.

“tell me, baby.”

“i can’t, it’s embarrassing.”

he’s pinching his nose now, eyes shut as you sit up on his thigh. through the screen nanami’s eyes are twitching & his lips are pursed like he’s resisting the urge to ask if you’re deadass.

sukuna finally turns to you; bleary-eyed & gaze half-lidded. “say it in my ear ?”

you nod & he leans down with an ear to your lips. your gloss stains the shell when you lean closer:

“i’m horny.”

sukuna blinks. he wants to ask how the hell that happened, if you’re messing with him, if you have any sense of time & place and why your gaze is shy as if he’d ever tell you no.

he turns back to his laptop, necklace still in your grip. “kento, something came up. rain check?”

“liar. i heard that.”

sukuna slams his laptop shut. you squeal as he lifts you in his arms.

2. BIMBO DIARIES #2 : I WANNA TWERK ON THE FLO’ !

God has blessed gojo satoru with the gift of legwork. so just as david danced before the lord, gojo satoru dances on sigma-chi’s table with all his might.

with you right beside him, of course.

sigma-chi’s frat house is sweat-soaked bodies pressed together & neon lights on a friday evening. by the corner to the left, ryomen sukuna is watching you with a cup to his lips & bleary eyes.

on the center table, gojo is twirling you around with his chain glinting & cap tilted off. you cheer along with the crowd as the music switches to burna boy & gojo throws it back. nanami kento is somewhere near the bar, cheeks flushed & praying the wine’s strong enough to help him forget the sight.

“ryomen,” suguru’s voice is sudden beside him. “get your girl off that table. quickly.”

sukuna shoots him a side eye. “get your boyfriend off first.”

on the table you’re still cheering, grin clumsy, hair soaked against your neck & cup in your hands. sukuna catches your eye. you blow him a kiss but he keeps a straight face. you pout once & he raises a palm to catch it lazily before you beam & resume dancing like an episode character.

beside him, suguru doesn’t blink. “he’s not my boyfriend. and stop deflecting.”

“you let him sleep in your bed.”

“he has nightmares.”

“he has a crush on you.”

geto ignores his statement. “i’m not playing with you. i want her off the table now. she shouldn’t even be here—i told you no shein outfits in my frat house.”

as if on cue, toji walks by, 500% polyester shirt squeaking through the music. sukuna raises a brow.

“he’s a brother! i can’t do anything about it!”

“whatever you say, vice.” sukuna drawls, taking a swig from his cup. his eyes flit back to you on the table. you’re laughing away and still drunk & dancing, but now your knees are bruised & wobbly & his brows scrunch because you might fall any second.

you stumble—just once, just slightly, & ryomen sukuna is already moving.

he’s squeezing through drunk bodies now, alcohol sloshing around in his cup. ahead of him geto is already there, begging satoru to please come down. he sets his cup on a passing tray & he’s by your side at the table in seconds.

“kuna!” you cheer, eyes meeting his & still dancing. “hi, baby!”

“hi, beautiful,” his voice is soft as you dance your way over to him, heavy palms coming up to catch your hips. he looks up at your flushed cheeks & bright eyes before pressing a kiss to your thigh. “time to stop dancing.”

you squeak, jerking out of his hold to run away. “no—! i’m still having fun with satoru—“

you make about three steps before he catches your heel & tugs you into his chest.

“put me down, ryo!”

“no, you’re done.”

“no!” you’re whacking his chest as he shifts your thighs over his arms to carry you bridal style. “put me down! put! me! down!“

sukuna ignores you. “ryomen! i swear if you don’t put me down right now i’ll—“

“can you shut up for five seconds?”

ryomen sukuna is tired. bones limp, eyes bleary, neck rash red for no good reason. he knows he shouldn’t snap but the words seem to work because you go silent & still in his arms.

too still.

he won’t look down. it doesn’t matter anyway—you’ll get over it. he did it for the best & he doesn’t care if you cry because—

“fuck, wait—baby don’t cry,”

he’s much too late. your lashes are already tear rimmed & you’re squeezing his shirt while peering up at him with glossy eyes. sukuna bites his lip. god, what has he done?

“is it because i embarrass you?” you sniffle, lips wobbly & cheeks hot from the alcohol. “is that why you never let me dance?”

sukuna exhales, breath shaky, gaze pulling away from yours because he’s never been good at looking you in the eyes after making you cry.

“that’s not true and you know it,” he squeezes your thigh. “i don’t care about you dancing. i care about you not breaking your leg.”

you soften in his grip, peering up at him for a beat.

“kuna?”

“tell me.”

“i forgive you.”

sukuna scoffs, patting your hip. “thank you, angel. and geto is an idiot.” he mumbles the last part.

you’re still peeking up at him, still drunk & starry-eyed. “kuna.”

“tell me, baby.”

“i love you.”

ryomen sukuna kisses your hair. he doesn’t say it back but you feel it in how he grips you tighter.

3. BIMBO DIARIES #3 : DRESS UP DARLING !

the only thing between ryomen sukuna & his sunday afternoon nap is his beautiful girlfriend with her back against his chest.

sukuna is tired. on sundays like these he always is, limbs groggy & eyes heavy with sleep. he has his cheek in your neck & his arms around your waist. his back’s against the headboard and yours is on his own.

“kuna.”

“tell me.”

you turn to show him a jacket on your phone. “should i get this?”

sukuna nods. he parts his lips to speak but whatever he says is drowned out by sleep.

“kuna.”

“tell me, baby.”

“this pink dress, or the green one?”

sukuna squints. your screen is too bright in his face & he wants to tell you to move it away but he doesn’t. his thumb circles your hips, “green one.”

you frown, glaring at him. “are you mentally illiterate?”

sukuna blinks. he doesn’t know what that means. he wants to ask, but you likely don’t know either.

“you know i don’t like green.”

“so why was it even an option.”

you ignore him & turn back to scroll through your phone. he’s watching you click through items now with his thumb still brushing your hip. a top, some boots, a dress he knows you’ll wear once & never again—and the total only climbs up. by the time you’re done the total is $400. he can only hope you double checked it was CAD & not USD.

he closes his eyes against your neck, body limp & heavy with sleep.

“kuna.” your voice is warm in his ear.

“tell me.”

“i don’t actually want to buy all this.”

sukuna cracks an eye open. he’s still pressed against your neck, warm & half-awake, & he can see your lashes fluttering & cheeks swollen in the heat. he doesn’t ask what you mean—your voice beats him to it.

“i just wanted to buy something pretty,” you murmur, small & half-shy. “so i look pretty. for you.”

sukuna blinks. and then he sighs, because you’re silly & ridiculous & so fucking his.

“you always look pretty,” he mumbles lazily into your shoulder blade, eyes fluttering shut. “and you know this. i tell you every time.”

you bite your fingernail, turning a little to meet his head buried in your neck.

“kuna,”

“tell me.”

“i love you.”

ryomen sukuna only sighs. he’ll never say it back but you feel it in how he tugs you into his chest to lie on top of him.

you pout, “kuna.”

“tell me, baby.”

“can i still order it ?” you have your chin on his chest now, peering up at him through pretty lashes as sukuna tries, tries to go to sleep.

“order it, princess.”

“with your card ?”

sukuna grits his teeth. “with my card.”

BIMBO DIARIES , end.

© HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.

you freeze. every muscle in your body locks up. suguru stills behind you, but he doesn't pull out. instead, he lets out a slow, controlled breath, almost like he's been expecting this.

"satoru," he says, and there's no guilt in his voice. no shame. just a lazy amusement that makes your blood run cold.

you turn your head, heart hammering, and there he is. satoru gojo, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, head tilted. his sunglasses are pushed up into his hair, revealing those impossibly blue eyes. he's smiling. that's the worst part. he's smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"oh, please. don't stop on my account," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "i was just coming to grab a snack, but i can see you're already... occupied."

"satoru—" your voice cracks. tears prick at your eyes. "i-i'm sorry—i didn't mean—"

"didn't mean to?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "didn't mean to what, exactly? fall onto suguru's dick? because from where i'm standing, it looks pretty intentional."

suguru chuckles, low and dark, and you feel the sound vibrate through his chest, still pressed against your back. "language, satoru. you're scaring her."

"oh, i'm scaring her? that's rich, coming from the guy currently balls-deep in my girlfriend."

you flinch at the word. girlfriend. the reality of what you've done crashes over you like a wave, cold and suffocating. you try to pull away, but suguru's hand on your hip tightens, holding you in place.

"let me go," you whisper, voice shaking.

"not yet," suguru murmurs, lips brushing your ear. "we're not done."

you look at satoru, expecting rage. expecting hurt. expecting him to storm out, to curse you out, to break things. but instead, he's watching you both with an expression you can't quite read. his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. his breathing has changed—shallow, quick.

"toru—"

"no, no, keep going." he takes a step closer, then another, until he's standing right beside you. he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness. "i want to watch."

your breath catches. "what?"

"you heard me." his gaze flicks to suguru over your shoulder, and something passes between them—a silent conversation, years of friendship distilled into a single look. "you've been wanting this for a while, haven't you, suguru?"

suguru's smile widens. "can you blame me?"

"no." satoru's hand trails down your cheek, your neck, coming to rest on your collarbone. "she is pretty when she's being fucked, isn't she?"

you're trembling, caught between them, unsure if this is real or some kind of cruel dream. "i don't understand—"

"you don't have to understand," satoru says, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead, soft and tender. "just let us take care of you."

suguru begins to move again, slow at first, testing. satoru's eyes never leave yours, watching every flicker of expression, every bitten-back moan. his hand slides down, wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, just resting there. a reminder of his presence.

"look at you," satoru breathes, wonder in his voice. "taking us both so well. such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

"i'm sorry," you gasp, tears spilling over. "i'm so sorry—"

"stop apologizing." his thumb brushes away a tear. "i'm not mad. i could never be mad at you." he glances at suguru, a smirk tugging at his lips. "him, maybe. but not you."

suguru huffs a laugh, increasing his pace. "flattering."

"shut up and fuck her properly."

and suguru does. he drives into you with renewed vigor, each stroke hitting deeper, harder, while satoru holds your gaze, his hand warm and steady on your throat. the dual sensation—suguru's relentless rhythm, satoru's possessive touch—sends you spiraling, your orgasm building fast and fierce.

"that's it," satoru murmurs, watching your face contort. "let go. we've got you."

you shatter with a cry, your body convulsing around suguru, who follows moments later with a guttural groan, spilling deep inside you. he stays there, breath ragged, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

for a long moment, no one moves. then suguru pulls out, and you slump forward, barely catching yourself on the counter. satoru catches you, pulling you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.

tags - : @sadisticslut666 @dihtaifung @whorishminds @besidesjustmyamour @throatgoatgeto @go-go-gadget-autism @thecrazyfangirlthings@grignardsreagent @strawberryshortcakkitty @naammiii @liasacountgothacked @annicishana @my-starlights@error-racoon-404 @afreakforyautja @cupidstrace @iam-souless @sindulgent666 @chewiebee @tojisballhair@ex1acy @palanggaaa @yourlocalcatscammer @ehcilhc @gravecyte @restingoasis @satorupi @laburantesdoll@sxpernova @thethyri @lostgeto @lilytrn @sweethearticism @mikaari0 @chososballhair @nanamissilkytie @iwasabs @tojis-juicymantitys @laitifly @farylfordaryl @bl1ndv3lvet @booboobear-12 @6arcxm @sleeplessdancer @chloeee20 @deartoru @neptunezxx @ash273819 @sketchbonked @vanillakirstein @valberryboos @itimisu @livviaaaaa @kebablover @babyluvlol @audreytoru 

You weren’t there in a hidden way,

Just… in your own space?

There were people around you, but not close enough to intrude. A small pocket of quiet in the middle of everything else. You sat beside Shoko, angled slightly toward her, your attention fixed entirely on whatever she was saying.

You weren’t trying to be interesting.

That was the first thing he noticed.

No exaggerated reactions, no careful awareness of who might be watching, no subtle adjustments meant to draw attention. You just stayed in your space.

Your hands were wrapped around a cup, fingers absently tracing the rim. Your posture was smaller than it needed to be, shoulders drawn in slightly, like you were used to taking up less space without thinking about it.

And your face—

Sukuna’s gaze lingered there a second longer.

Pretty.

Not in the way that demanded a reaction,or in the way that made people look and know immediately.

But in a way that settled in quietly.

The kind people noticed after a moment,then couldn’t quite stop noticing.

You were laughing at something that shoko said, just naturally not in a practiced way.

Sukuna didn’t realize he had slowed until someone bumped into his shoulder.

“Watch it,” they muttered, already moving past.

He barely registered it.

Because he was still looking at you.

Not with hunger just yet,something else which was sharper in a way that had him drawn to you,it was new.

“Don’t,” Shoko’s voice cut in, suddenly closer than he expected.

He hadn’t noticed her approach.

Sukuna shifted his gaze to her, one brow lifting slightly in question.

“I didn’t say anything,” he replied.

“You don’t have to.” She said with a humourless serious expression.

Sukuna glanced back at you, still sitting exactly where you had been, still unaware of the way his attention had fixed on you.

A slow, almost lazy smile pulled at his mouth.Interested.

“Yeah?” he murmured.

Shoko didn’t respond.

Because the look in his eyes had already answered her.

Across the courtyard, you shifted slightly in your seat, adjusting your grip on your cup, completely unaware of the way something had just… begun.

And sukuna didn’t look away for once.

Then it started , not even intentional, at first.

Just a thought that lingered a second longer than it should have.

Sukuna didn’t usually do repetition.

That was one of the few unspoken rules he followed without thinking about it. Faces changed, places blurred, nights overlapped into something indistinct. Nothing held his attention long enough to become routine.

And yet,

Three days after he saw you first time,

He noticed you again.

You were sitting in the same lecture hall as him.

You were already there when he walked in, head slightly tilted down, pen moving steadily across your notebook, in your own space. People were still settling, chairs scraping, conversations overlapping, but none of it seemed to touch you.

You didn’t look up when he entered,didn’t notice him,till he walked up to your seat and took a seat next to you.

Your hand stilled mid-sentence, your gaze lifting just enough to register him in your periphery before turning fully.

“…Hi,” you said,quietly.

He leaned back slightly in his seat, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, like this was the most natural decision he could have made.

“You always this early?” he asked.

You blinked.

“I like being on time”

“That’s boring.”

Your brows pulled together just slightly. “It’s practical.”

He huffed out a short breath that almost resembled a laugh.

“You actually care about this stuff?”

“I have to pass.”

“People pass without caring.”

You looked at him for a second longer this time, like you were trying to figure out if he was being serious.

“Then they’re lucky”, is all you said before turning to your notes.

And just like that,

You dismissed him.

Just… naturally.

__

It should’ve ended there,as a brief interruption. A passing interaction. Forgettable.

That’s always how it was with him.

People entered, overlapped for a while, and then dissolved into the blur of everything else.

But this—

This didn’t dissolve.

After that day, it was like Sukuna had quietly, deliberately woven himself into the fabric of your routine.

Not in a way that could be pointed out and named.

Just… consistently.

You’d step out of class and find him leaning against the wall across the hallway, phone in hand, looking up just as you walked past like he’d been there longer than necessary.

The next day, he’d fall into step beside you without asking, matching your pace like it was instinct rather than choice.

In the library, the chair across from you stopped being empty.

Then it stopped being surprising.You didn’t notice when it shifted.Not exactly.

There wasn’t a moment you could trace back to and say this is where it changed.

It happened somewhere between shared silences and small conversations, between him interrupting your focus and you no longer minding it.

Somewhere between—

“…you always write this much?” he asked once, glancing at your notebook, pages filled edge to edge.

“I have small handwriting,” you muttered, not looking up.

“That’s not small, that’s obsessive.”

“It’s efficient.”

He leaned closer, just enough to scan a line.

“You even organize your notes. Colors and everything.”

“It helps me remember.”

“Or you just like things neat.”

“…What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” he said, straightening slightly. “Just means you’re predictable.”

That made you pause.

Your pen hovered mid-air before you finally looked at him.

“I’m not predictable.”

He smirked, slow and knowing.

“You sit in the same seat every class.”

“That’s habit.”

“You order the same coffee.”

“That’s preference.”

“You reread your notes twice before closing your book.”

“…That’s called studying.”

His smirk deepened, like he’d proven something.

You frowned at him, but there was no real irritation behind it.

“Why are you even paying attention to all that?”

There it was.The question.

Unassuming.

But it landed somewhere deeper than it should have.

Sukuna held your gaze for a second too long.

And just said……”nothing better to do.”

You didn’t question it.

You should have.

But you didn’t

__

You found yourself smiling more when he was around, even when you didn’t mean to.

Laughing at things you probably wouldn’t have found funny before.

Saying things without overthinking them first, words slipping out before you could measure them, filter them, decide if they were worth saying at all.

And he noticed.

Of course he did.

He noticed everything about you in a way no one else ever had.

The way your voice softened when you got comfortable mid-conversation.

The way you looked at him when you were trying to understand something he said, brows slightly drawn together, completely focused.

The way you forgot yourself sometimes,

And just… existed.

“Say that again,” he said one afternoon, leaning back in his chair.

You looked up from your notes. “What?”

“What you just said.”

“I didn’t say anything important.”

“You laughed.”

Your lips pressed together immediately, like you were trying to take it back.

“I always laugh.”

“Not like that.”

You frowned. “Like what?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Just watched you.

Then, quieter—

“Like you forgot to hold it in.”

Something warm crept up your neck before you could stop it.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does.”

You shook your head quickly, looking away.

“It doesn’t “

But your smile lingered.

After that, it stopped feeling like effort.

You were just… there. In the hallway, in the library, somewhere on campus where he didn’t have to look too hard. It became routine without ever being named as one. Your presence slipped into his days quietly, until it no longer felt like something he chose, but something that simply existed.

___

There was a part that unsettled him.

Not you.

Not the closeness.

But the way it lingered even when you weren’t there.

The way his attention didn’t shift as easily as it used to. The way moments with you stayed sharper than everything else, clearer, harder to blur into nothing like he was used to.

It didn’t fit into anything he understood.

So he refused to understand it.

Pushed it down. Flattened it into something simpler, something familiar, something he could control.

It didn’t matter to Sukuna.

Not when he had a goal in mind.

__

The party had already tipped past control by the time Sukuna started paying attention to anything.

___

Music thudded through the walls, heavy bass rattling the staircase, bodies packed shoulder to shoulder like the house was built to hold less than half of them. Someone had spilled something sticky near the kitchen, people stepped through it anyway. Laughter rose in bursts, cut through by shouting, by someone calling for another round that no one needed.

Upstairs, the balcony overlooked all of it.

And Sukuna stood there like he owned it.

One arm hooked lazily over the railing, a drink in his hand he hadn’t finished, half-listening to Gojo talking absolute nonsense beside him while a couple of girls hovered a little too close.

“—I’m telling you,” Gojo was saying, grinning like he always did, “if you had just listened to me—”

“I didn’t,” Sukuna cut in flatly, not even looking at him.

Gojo snorted. “Yeah, obviously.”

From the other side, Toji leaned back against the wall, watching the crowd below with the kind of disinterest that only meant he was noticing everything.

“Boring night,” he muttered.

Sukuna almost agreed.Almost.

Then his gaze shifted.

And stopped.

You.

It clicked instantly this time.

Not gradually or subtly.

Immediate.

The dress.

Tight enough to matter.

Soft enough to look like it wasn’t meant for a place like this.

Shorter than anything he’d seen you in before,way shorter,and it showed in the way you carried yourself. Not confident, not practiced. You kept adjusting it without thinking, fingers brushing the hem, shoulders pulling in just slightly like you were still figuring out how to exist in it.

Like you hadn’t worn it for this.

Like you didn’t know what it did.

Sukuna’s smirk came easy.

Slow and certain.

“Well, that’s new,” Gojo said suddenly, following his line of sight. “Didn’t know your type came to parties.”

Sukuna didn’t answer.Didn’t need to.

Toji huffed quietly. “She looks like she’s gonna leave in ten minutes.”

“Not tonight,” Sukuna said, already pushing off the railing.

That was all.

Decision made.

Downstairs, the air hit warmer, heavier, the noise louder the second he stepped back into it. People moved out of his way without thinking, someone called his name, someone grabbed his arm,he shrugged it off without breaking stride.

His focus didn’t shift.

You didn’t see him until he was already there.

Close enough that the space around you felt… different.

You turned,

And your expression changed the second you recognized him.

That softness again with that ease.

Sukuna stopped in front of you, gaze dropping immediately.Slow.

“…You’re full of surprises.”

Your fingers brushed your dress again, instinctively.

“I just-tried something different.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice low, amused, “figured.”

You hesitated under his gaze, but you didn’t shrink. Didn’t step back.

You stayed exactly where you were.

“Shoko make you wear that?” he asked.

Your brows pulled together slightly. “No.”

“Then what?decided to switch it up?”

“…Something like that.”

He leaned a little closer.

Not enough to trap you.

Just enough.

“Looks better on you than the whole quiet act.”

That caught you off guard.

Your lips parted slightly. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he cut in, not harsh, just certain. “Just don’t notice it.”

Heat crept up your neck.

But you didn’t argue.

Didn’t deflect.

You just looked at him.

“…Do you think it’s too much?” you asked, quieter now, almost like you weren’t sure why you were asking him at all.

Sukuna’s eyes flickered,just for a second.Then his smirk deepened.

“Nah,” he said, taking the cup from your hand like it was his to take, fingers brushing yours without pause. “Think you’re just not used to people looking.”

Your breath caught.

“People aren’t—”

“They are.”

You didn’t finish your sentence or look around to check.You just… believed him.

He set your drink aside without asking.

Your hand stayed suspended in the air for a second before dropping.

“Relax,” he added, quieter now, eyes still on you. “You look like you’re trying not to.”

“I’m not,” you said, but it came out softer than you meant.

He huffed a quiet laugh.

“Yeah, you are.”

There was a pause.

Not empty.

Just… close.

And then

His hand found your wrist.

His grip was not rough but firm.

“Come on.”

This time, you didn’t ask where but you knew because you felt it in the way he said it.In the way he was looking at you.

In the way the space between you had already changed.

Your fingers tightened slightly before you let him pull you forward.

You didn't resist it,just went along with it.

Upstairs, the music dulled into something distant, the noise fading behind you with every step. The hallway stretched quieter, dimly lit, the air cooler,but it didn’t settle anything.

If anything, it made everything clearer.You were aware now of where you were going,of what this was.Your steps slowed for half a second not to stop but just enough to take it in.

Sukuna noticed.

He glanced back at you, something sharper in his gaze now,not questioning, not checking but registering.

You didn’t pull your hand away or step back.

You met his eyes for a second and they didn’t look uncertain which was all he needed.

Inside his room, the door shut behind you with a quiet click.

The sound landed heavier than it should have.

The shift was immediate.

No noise. No distractions.

Just the two of you,and everything that had been building.

You exhaled softly, your hand brushing down the side of your dress again, smoothing it without thinking.

But this time,you didn’t look away.

Sukuna stepped closer.Slow and measured.

His hand came up to your waist again, firmer this time, pulling you in until there wasn’t space left to hesitate in. The fabric of your dress shifted under his grip, your breath catching as your hands came up to him,not unsure now, just… instinctive.

There was no teasing left or any need for it.

His hand moved higher, slower now, like he was taking his time for once,not out of care, but because he could. Because you weren’t pulling away. Because you were right there, letting him.

Your grip tightened in his shirt.Your breath unsteady.

And when he leaned in, his lips on yours, melting.

you didn’t hesitate.

Everything after that blurred into heat and closeness.The kind that built fast once it started.

Your back meeting the wall for a second, then the bed, the space shifting under you as the dress you’d been so aware of earlier became something in the way more than anything else.

Fabric pulled, pushed aside, slipping out of place under impatient hands.

His skin on yours.

Your breathing broke first.

Then steadied into something else entirely.

Sukuna didn’t slow down or stop to think.

Didn’t question the way this felt slightly different from everything else because to him—

it wasn’t.

It was exactly what he’d expected.

Exactly what he’d decided.

And he moved through it like he always did, like it would end the same way it always did.

___

The Morning came.

The room didn’t feel like the night before.

What had been loud and close and overwhelming was now still, the air cooler, thinner somehow. Light slipped in through the curtains in soft lines, cutting across the bed, across the floor, across you.

For a moment, nothing moved.

Sukuna was already awake.

Not fully out of bed, not rushing, just… there. Sitting at the edge, leaning forward slightly, phone in hand, scrolling without really looking.

Like he’d already stepped out of whatever last night had been.

You stirred behind him slowly.

The shift in the sheets, the quiet sound of movement,

He noticed. But he didn’t turn immediately.

“…You’re up early,” you said, voice softer than usual, still carrying the weight of sleep.

He hummed, noncommittal.

“Yeah.”

You pushed yourself up slightly, the sheets gathering around you, your eyes adjusting to the light, to the room, to him.

“Are you leaving?” you asked after a pause.

Not accusing....Just unsure.

Sukuna glanced back then, brief, almost distracted.

“Got stuff.”

That was it,you nodded like that made sense.

Like you weren’t expecting anything more.

The silence stretched for a moment after that.

He stood, pulling his shirt on without much thought, movements easy, familiar, like this was routine.

You watched him quietly, trying to take him in.

Trying to understand something you couldn’t quite name yet.

“You have class today?” you asked, quieter now.

“Maybe.”

A small pause.

Then—

“…I do.”

He didn’t respond to that or ask when and where. Perhaps, that was the first shift

So small it could’ve been ignored.

But it stayed.

By the time he left, it felt like the room had changed again.

Not empty.

Just… different.

You stayed a little longer.

Not because you had to.

Because leaving felt like acknowledging something you weren’t ready to name yet.

___

On campus, everything moved like it always did.

Classes filled. Conversations overlapped. People passed by without looking twice.

Nothing had changed.

Except what had.

You noticed it first in the lecture hall ,the seat beside yours, empty.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything,he didn’t always come early or come at all.

Still—

You found yourself glancing at the door.

Once...Then again.

He came in late.Of course he did like always.

But this time,he didn’t sit beside you.He took a seat further back.Didn’t look your way or acknowledge you.

Your fingers tightened slightly around your pen.

You told yourself—

It didn’t mean anything.

It kept happening.

In the hallway, you’d catch a glimpse of him,surrounded, laughing, moving through people the way he always did.

Effortless.

But not with you.

In the library, the chair across from you stayed empty.

Days passed like that.

And slowly,

That quiet, unspoken shift turned into something harder to ignore.

Because he wasn’t gone, he was just not there with you anymore

And Sukuna—

Sukuna didn’t think about it.

Not really.

Not when he was drinking again, laughter loud, someone pressed close to his side.

Not when the nights blurred back into something easy, familiar, forgettable.

It was back to normal.Exactly how it should be.

And yet—

There were moments.

Small ones.

A pause in the middle of a conversation when something didn’t feel as interesting as it should.

A glance toward a space before realizing why he was looking.

A flicker of recognition that didn’t settle into anything he could name.

It didn’t make sense or matter.So he ignored it.

Because whatever that was,it wasn’t enough to mean anything...just yet.

___

At first, it was easy to explain.

He didn’t sit beside you in class-fine. He was never consistent.He didn’t come to the library-fine. He never liked it anyway.He didn’t walk with you after lectures-fine.

It was all fine.

You told yourself that enough times that it almost sounded true.

But the problem was that it didn't feel the same.

Once, you caught his eye in the hallway.Just for a second.

And something in your chest lifted before you could stop it—

But he didn’t slow.

Didn’t stop.

Didn’t even acknowledge it.

Like it hadn’t happened.

That stayed longer than it should have.

You started leaving the library earlier.

Stopped sitting in the same place sometimes.

Changed your routes between classes without thinking too much about why.

It didn’t help. Because it wasn't about the place to begin with.

Shoko noticed but she didn't say much.

Just watched you a little more carefully, her expression tightening every time Sukuna’s name came up around you,even when it wasn’t directed at you.

___

And then—

there was another party,one you almost didn’t go,but staying in felt worse.So you did.

The music hit the second you stepped inside, loud and overwhelming, the same chaos as before,but this time, it didn’t feel unfamiliar.

It felt...distant.

You spotted him quickly.You always did.

He was cross the room.Surrounded.

A girl leaned into him, laughing at something he said, her hand resting too comfortably against his chest. Another stood close enough that their shoulders brushed every time he moved.

He didn’t push them away or look uncomfortable.

Didn’t look like anything had changed.

He looked exactly the same.

Your chest tightened, something sharp and quiet settling in your throat, making it hard to breathe properly.

You stood there longer than you should have.

Watching.

Waiting for something.

A glance,anything at all,but nothing came.

before you could stop yourself,you moved.

The crowd blurred as you pushed through it, your steps faster than you meant them to be, your thoughts louder than the music around you.

He noticed you before you reached him, ofcourse.

His eyes flicked to you briefly.Then stayed.The girl beside him said something.

He didn’t respond immediately.

Because now,you were standing in front of him.

Too close.Too exposed.

“What are you doing?” you asked.Your voice was quiet.

But it didn’t shake.

Not yet.

His brows lifted slightly.Not confused.Just… mildly surprised.

“What does it look like?”

You swallowed.

“That’s not what I meant.”

A pause.

The noise around you felt distant now.

Like everything had pulled back just enough to leave the two of you standing there.

“Then what did you mean?” he asked, tone lazy, almost bored.

You hesitated.

For the first time since you’d walked up to him.

“I mean—” you started, then stopped, trying to find the right words. “You’ve been… avoiding me.”

The word sat there.Between you.

He exhaled slowly, like the conversation had already tired him.

“I’ve been busy.”

“That’s not true.”

That slipped out before you could stop it.

Something in his expression shifted.Not much but just enough.

You pushed forward anyway.

Because now you couldn’t stop.

“You were there,” you said, quieter now, but more certain. “Before. You used to—”

You cut yourself off.

Used to what?

He watched you struggle to finish the sentence.

And something about that,

made his mouth curve.

“Used to what?” he prompted.

Your chest tightened.

“I just thought—”

You stopped again.

Because you didn’t know how to say it.

And he knew that.

He stepped closer.

Not gently.

Not harshly.

Just enough to take control of the space again.

“You didn’t let it get to your head, did you?”

The words landed softly.

Too softly.

You blinked.

“What?”

His expression didn’t change.

Still that same, easy, almost amused look.

“That night,” he said, like it meant nothing. “You’re not still thinking about that, right?”

Your stomach dropped.

“I—no, I just—”

“Good.”

He cut you off before you could finish.

Because then,

he leaned in slightly.

Just enough that only you could hear it.

“You’re not all that.”

It wasn’t loud.Wasn’t harsh.Wasn’t even said with anger.

Just,dismissive.

Like he was correcting something small.

Like you had misunderstood your place.

And that-

....that hurt more.

Your expression didn’t break immediately.

That was the worst part.

It happened slowly.

The way your eyes lost something first.

Then the way your lips parted, like you were about to say something,and couldn’t.

The way the words just… stopped.

Sukuna saw it.Saw exactly what he’d done.

And for a second,

something unfamiliar flickered in his chest.

Sharp and Uncomfortable, but he ignored it.

Because this,

this was how it was supposed to go.

You nodded,looking small.

“…Okay.”

Your voice was quiet.

Flat.

And then,you stepped back.

Not rushing or running but just leaving.

And this time,he watched you go.

Not because he wanted to...but because he couldn’t look away.

This is what he always did, what he always wanted, what was normal to him,

So what was this feeling creeping up in his chest as he watched you leave?

note: I don’t know if this turned out how i wanted , please let me know if you like it, then I’ll continue with the next parts, after this i NEED to post some fluffy sukuna drabble soon AGHH.