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MY DEAR MR. ANAGNOS: You will laugh when you open your little friend's letter and see all the queer mistakes she has made in French, but I think you will be pleased to know that I can write even a short letter in French. It makes me very happy to please you and my dear teacher. I wish I could see your little niece Amelia. I am sure we should love each other. I hope you will bring some of Virginia Evanghelides' poems home with you, and translate them for me. Teacher and I have just returned from our walk. It is a beautiful day. We met a sweet little child. She was playing on the pier with a wee brother. She gave me a kiss and then ran away, because she was a shy little girl. I wonder if you would like to have me tell you a pretty dream which I had a long time ago when I was a very little child? Teacher says it was a day-dream, and she thinks you would be delighted to hear it. One pleasant morning in the beautiful springtime, I thought I was sitting on the soft grass under my dear mother's window, looking very earnestly at the rose-bushes which were growing all around me. It was quite early, the sun had not been up very long; the birds were just beginning to sing joyously. The flowers were still asleep. They would not awake until the sun had smiled lovingly upon them. I was a very happy little child with rosy cheeks, and large blue eyes, and the most beautiful golden ringlets you can imagine The fresh morning air blew gently in my face, as if to welcome me, and be my merry playmate, and the sun looked at me with a warm and tender smile. I clapped my chubby hands for joy when I saw that the rose-bushes were covered with lovely buds. Some were red, some white, and others were delicate pink, and they were peeping out from between the green leaves like beautiful little fairies. I had never seen anything so lovely before, for I was very young and I could not remember how pretty the roses had been the summer before. My little heart was filled with a sweet joy, and I danced around the rose-bushes to show my delight. After a while I went very near to a beautiful white rose-bush which was completely covered with buds and sparkling with dewdrops; I bent down one of the branches with a lovely pure white bud upon it, and kissed it softly many times; just then I felt two loving arms steal gently around me, and loving lips kissing my eyelids, my cheeks, and my mouth, until I began to think it was raining kisses; and at last I opened my eyes to see what it all meant, and found it was my precious mother, who was bending over me, trying to kiss me awake. Do you like my day-dream? If you do, perhaps I will dream again for you some time.


"What is the name of the game this TIME?"
"There isn't one yet. I always wait until I have completely finished writing the story before thinking of a name."
"UNDERSTOOD. ......Then with no delay, I shall begin the READING. Although if I may say, it is disappointing that my first reading will be before it has become a beatifully arranged STORY."
"Kukkukukuku. That is the unfortunate side of being a debugger."
"............It seems that this time, too, it will be a truly complex and mysterious INCIDENT. ......I am really looking foreword to seeing just how this will be elevated to 'story' STATUS."
"No need to flatter. Hurry and turn the page. I feel as if I am the newbie mangaka putting my manuscript in front of the editor."
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High-octane girls' soccer action mixes with the drama of high school in this cleats-out manga from the creator of Your Lie in April! game on. Midori and Sumire are soccer stars at rival middle schools, destined to collide : one's a striker, the other's a goalie. But the two girls end up in the same high school, with a lazy coach and a bizarre teammate, Nozomi, who brags that she's a soccer prodigy but can't seem to stop kicking the ball into her own goal. To become champions, Midori and Sumire will have to get over their rivalry and work some magic on the field--not to mention the challenges of growing up.


Twenty-six year old Nagisa Kataura has a secret. By all appearances, she's an average temp-worker, but beneath her business-casual exterior she's a dovoted cosplayer. Transforming into her favorite anime and manga characters is her passion in life, and her hard work and creativity has earned Nagisa respect amongst her cosplay cohorts. But to the rest of society, her hobby is a silly fantasy, so she has to keep her two worlds separate. However, as demands from both sides of her life begin to increase, she may one day have to make a tough choice...what's more importaant to her, cosplay or being "normal"?


Naruhodo tells him about Barok van Zieks and Albert Harebrayne, but before Sholmes can say anything Esmeralda Tusspells arrives. Sholmes goes back to being a wax figure again. Tusspells was twenty-six, and called herself Madame to make her name sound more distinguished. She calls Sholmes restless and threatens to turn him into an actual wax figure if he continues to leave his post, Iris wants to hear more about Sholmes' case. Tusspells made all the sculptures herself, she was the third generation of the family. Her grandmother was the one who sculpted the queen, she had many misfortunes but discovered true art. All of the figures were made using molds of the real person after their execution, yet she loves art. But there were other rooms with less terrifying exhibits, Naruhodo was only here because Iris dragged her in. The famous detective hired out himself to Tusspells a few days ago, though they couldn't agree on the price. But she's tight on cash so she's having him work here, apparently in debt of something. Tusspells was surprised that Naruhodo knows of the incident and Sholmes suddenly appears right by them. He demanded money and she reluctantly agrees if he performs his deduction. Tusspells refuses to pull back the curtains to the special exhibit until the Sholmes notices the hand sticking out. Behind the curtain was a tombstone, but Sholmes couldn't find the serial killer's wax sculpture. He did find a fainted middle-aged man on the floor but he's not the killer or a wax figure. He had two conclusions: There was a huge business transaction in the special exhibit room and it had something to do with a major crime. Tusspells had gone pale as wax, Sholmes will now do his deduction.


Albert Harebrayne demanded to know why Naruhodo was saying his theory was some sort of trick even though he promised to believe in him, but he doesn't know anything about science and theories. Besides, the contradiction was real, Harebrayne said that's just because he's in the middle of his research despite Odie Asman dying as a result. The scientist was extremely ashamed of himself and he can't believe his old friend was treating him like a criminal. Harebrayne carefully drew the blueprints for the device himself, he wants Naruhodo to believe in him. He agrees just when the trial reconvene.


Susato Mikotoba had missed Herlock Sholmes' attic even though she's only been gone for half a year, Naruhodo left it just the way it was in case she ever returned. When asked about Yujin, Susato revealed that he had lied to her about collapsing from a fever. She came back to Engl

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MY DEAR MR. ANAGNOS: You will laugh when you open your little friend's letter and see all the queer mistakes she has made in French, but I think you will be pleased to know that I can write even a short letter in French. It makes me very happy to please you and my dear teacher. I wish I could see your little niece Amelia. I am sure we should love each other. I hope you will bring some of Virginia Evanghelides' poems home with you, and translate them for me. Teacher and I have just returned from our walk. It is a beautiful day. We met a sweet little child. She was playing on the pier with a wee brother. She gave me a kiss and then ran away, because she was a shy little girl. I wonder if you would like to have me tell you a pretty dream which I had a long time ago when I was a very little child? Teacher says it was a day-dream, and she thinks you would be delighted to hear it. One pleasant morning in the beautiful springtime, I thought I was sitting on the soft grass under my dear mother's window, looking very earnestly at the rose-bushes which were growing all around me. It was quite early, the sun had not been up very long; the birds were just beginning to sing joyously. The flowers were still asleep. They would not awake until the sun had smiled lovingly upon them. I was a very happy little child with rosy cheeks, and large blue eyes, and the most beautiful golden ringlets you can imagine The fresh morning air blew gently in my face, as if to welcome me, and be my merry playmate, and the sun looked at me with a warm and tender smile. I clapped my chubby hands for joy when I saw that the rose-bushes were covered with lovely buds. Some were red, some white, and others were delicate pink, and they were peeping out from between the green leaves like beautiful little fairies. I had never seen anything so lovely before, for I was very young and I could not remember how pretty the roses had been the summer before. My little heart was filled with a sweet joy, and I danced around the rose-bushes to show my delight. After a while I went very near to a beautiful white rose-bush which was completely covered with buds and sparkling with dewdrops; I bent down one of the branches with a lovely pure white bud upon it, and kissed it softly many times; just then I felt two loving arms steal gently around me, and loving lips kissing my eyelids, my cheeks, and my mouth, until I began to think it was raining kisses; and at last I opened my eyes to see what it all meant, and found it was my precious mother, who was bending over me, trying to kiss me awake. Do you like my day-dream? If you do, perhaps I will dream again for you some time.


"What is the name of the game this TIME?"
"There isn't one yet. I always wait until I have completely finished writing the story before thinking of a name."
"UNDERSTOOD. ......Then with no delay, I shall begin the READING. Although if I may say, it is disappointing that my first reading will be before it has become a beatifully arranged STORY."
"Kukkukukuku. That is the unfortunate side of being a debugger."
"............It seems that this time, too, it will be a truly complex and mysterious INCIDENT. ......I am really looking foreword to seeing just how this will be elevated to 'story' STATUS."
"No need to flatter. Hurry and turn the page. I feel as if I am the newbie mangaka putting my manuscript in front of the editor."
 28789f854f

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