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... rubbed my wet nose and lips with my sleeves of clothes.


"Don't touch."


In the meantime, Callisto, who had been rushing, forced me to take off my wrist.


And he covered my nose with a handkerchief that I didn't know where it came from, and put my head backward, supporting my chin.


"Do you carry this with you?"


When I asked in a nasal voice, he breathed that seemed to hold back his anger. "You know. I'm carrying everything because of someone."

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