Mr.Ippei Mizuhara

I am not a gambler, but I would like to stay with Ippei Mizuhara in a hotel in an entertainment district in the middle of the desert.

He and I would never gamble.

But as he grips the slot lever with his buttocks tightened, I secretly burn with jealousy as I watch the pile of medals that gradually emerge from the seat next to me.

I would shift in my seat and play poker. I try desperately to drive the anxiety from my face, to imagine the joy of victory, but I know it is pointless.

In the end I will not win.

And I will return to my original seat, angry and sad.

Sometimes we will look at each other over the baccarat table. In those moments, we would tell each other our own moves in the blink of an eye, and we would take care that one of us would win.

One day one of us will be penniless and the other will bury him outside the city. Then he will write a little poem to his friend who has traveled, and then he will kill himself, having found no reason to live without a last-minute bargaining chip.









  •  アタシゃギャンブラーじゃねーけどよ、一平と砂漠のまんなかにあるエンタメ地区のホテルに泊まりてーんだわ。  んで、ギャンブルだけはしねーの。  だけどよ、隣の席から次...


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