Chick 245

245

‘Two, when they’re this hard to get? How…?’

While Haruna stared in bewilderment—

Creak—creak—

The ugly teddy bear who had given her the two magic wands was already riding its bicycle away, leaving the restroom.

Recognizing who the bear must be, Haruna, almost without thinking, seized the long handle at the back of the tricycle.

As the bicycle pedals spun in midair, the teddy bear looked back.

— What is it?

Haruna held up her phone.

“Are you Jappso?”

The teddy bear’s eyebrows shot up to its scalp.

Uncertain whether to reveal the truth, the bear hesitated, so Haruna spoke quickly.

“I mean you no harm.”

— …….

“No special reason. I just wanted to ask you something.”

After a brief silence, the bear’s voice broke out, rough and distorted.

— What do you want to ask?

Haruna read this from her translation app and her face brightened.

Then, looking serious, she typed again.

“Do you enjoy crafting?”

Haruna’s face was visible behind the phone she offered.

Her intent was clear: this wasn’t a scoff or a test but a genuine, searching question.

— ……?

The unfinished bear tilted its head to the side.

— Strange question. Making things is always fun.

Haruna read the translation and managed a bitter smile.

[“Of course. With lines like the ones outside….”]

Just at the pop-up store, there had to be at least a thousand waiting.

[“It must be a joy to craft when so many people love what you make.”]

Groo blinked after confirming the translation on her app.

— It’s certainly nice that people enjoy what I make… but isn’t crafting itself fun, no matter what?

[“But…”]

Looking discouraged, Haruna raised her phone and typed again.

“Doesn’t crafting that no one loves become meaningless?”

The unfinished bear’s mouth formed a perfect triangle, shocked. She’d never thought about that before…!

— I-is that so?

Haruna pressed her lips together and nodded.

After a brief hesitation, she typed again.

“I am thinking of quitting crafting.”

Eh?!

Groo was genuinely shocked, left speechless.

— But why? Inoue Haruna, aren’t you one of Japan’s rare talents, destined to stand shoulder to shoulder with Kazuki?

Haruna opened her mouth to answer, then shut it again, giving a weak, sour smile.

She looked so forlorn that Groo’s eyebrows shot all the way up.

— So, crafting isn’t fun for you anymore?

“There’s never been a time when I enjoyed it.”

Haruna shook her head firmly.

“Not even once.”

Kugung—!

Groo froze, as if struck by lightning by Haruna’s resolute statement.

Quickly, she stammered out,

— How is that possible? Making things is the most fun in the world!

[“I…”]

— No, it can’t be. Inoue Haruna, you’re deeply mistaken. I will personally show you the true joy of crafting.

Haruna scanned the gushing speech through her translator, becoming flustered.

Then Groo stowed the bicycle in her inventory, hurried over, grabbed Haruna’s hand, and pulled her out of the restroom.

“Who’s that?!”

Sergey, waiting outside, was startled to see Groo emerge hand-in-hand with an unfamiliar girl.

Groo just grabbed Sergey’s hand with her other and briskly led the way.

Following, Sergey locked eyes with Haruna and gaped.

“Inoue Haruna?”

Haruna flinched.

Just then, Gidan, who had finally snagged a table at the activity zone, waved at Sergey and Groo.

“You’re back! But who’s that—”

Peering closely at the girl Groo had towed out, Gidan suddenly cried out,

“Ino—!”

Sergey quickly clamped a hand over Gidan’s mouth, scanning for unwanted attention.

Making a scene about Inoue Haruna’s presence at the pop-up store would surely have drawn a massive crowd.

“Are you looking for trouble?”

When Gidan shook his head, Sergey finally let go.

Gidan whispered in a hushed voice,

“But that’s Inoue Haruna…!”

“I know, idiot. Groo just picked her up in the restroom.”

Despite their bewilderment, Groo perked up her ears and sniffled, seemingly unconcerned.

With so many kids in Jappso cosplay at the pop-up, it was fortunate there was no commotion over “the real” Jappso’s appearance.

Gidan nodded at Haruna and asked Sergey,

“…Is she alone?”

“Yeah. No one’s following her.”

“Je-seong-hamnida. Je-seong-hamnida.”

Looking on the verge of tears, Haruna kept apologizing in clumsy Korean.

‘She really does look like Groo just picked her up somewhere…’

Gidan crossed his arms, studying Haruna with dissatisfaction.

Fine, maybe dragging her from the restroom was typical for Groo, but she must have come to the pop-up on her own, disguised with a hat and mask to avoid notice.

She looked so timid—what could have brought a girl like her here alone?

The answer was soon clear from the envious stares drawn by the two magic wands in her hands.

‘Is it because of those?’

Did an S-rank crafter really come all this way just to buy those?

While Gidan pondered, Groo’s voice—rough and disguised—declared with conviction,

— Haruna will join us in drone assembly.

Sergey let out a sigh.

“Why all of a sudden? Doesn’t she look uncomfortable?”

Haruna, meeting Sergey’s gaze, bowed again in apology.

— She… has her reasons.

Rather than explain that Haruna had confessed her intention to quit crafting, Groo just muttered vaguely.

That wasn’t something to share with others so lightly.

“What do you mean, reasons—”

But then, as if remembering something, Gidan interrupted, smirking.

“What else could it be?”

He banged two drone head pieces onto the table and said:

“It’s a Korea–Japan match, of course.”

Haruna glanced from her phone to Gidan, puzzled.

A Korean–Japanese match? Could this be a translation error?

Gidan poked at her phone display, shaping his fingers into a circle with thumb and forefinger.

“That’s right. Korea–Japan match.”

---

“No using skills, only pure assembly will decide the winner. Let’s see whose toy is stronger once we’re done. Got it?”

Gidan explained the simple rules with a mischievous grin.

Justice-loving Groo objected at once.

— But isn’t it three against one, if it’s Korea vs Japan? That seems like villain behavior.

“The host country gets a buff, always.”

— Ho! I see.

“What do you mean, ‘I see’…”

Sergey, who had protested, jerked his head toward Haruna.

“I’ll join her team, then. Satisfied?”

Gidan’s eyes trembled in feigned betrayal.

“Going traitor on me?”

“The home team’s been gone a long time.”

“You’re Korean. I even picked out a Korean name for you and you’re going to do this?”

“You what? Are you insane?”

“Jin Sehee!”

“Shut up!”

As Gidan and Sergey bickered, Haruna, flustered, tried to separate them.

Groo gently pulled Haruna back, shaking her head.

[“Boys always grow up like that.”]

[“Really?”]

[“Yes. Let’s just assemble our toys.”]

Haruna nodded almost without thinking.

Was this really okay? Haruna kept checking the mood warily, but Groo was already immersed in the project, displaying incredible focus.

After a little while, Gidan and Sergey joined in too, and before long the table was filled with the gentle clatter of assembly.

Haruna picked up a drone part, her eyes flicking back and forth.

‘A Korea–Japan match, of all things.’

To be building toys as “Japan’s representative” in a Korean department store!

She should really go, but she’d gotten swept up in Orchestra’s wild pace.

She could simply excuse herself; no one was holding her here.

‘Just give back the magic wands…’

Haruna pressed her lips together, looking at the wands on the table.

“……”

But she really couldn’t do it.

Haruna had never once insisted on her own will.

So, hesitantly, she began to assemble.

She’d forged swords and pottery, but never a toy. She wasn’t even sure what sort of toy to make.

As she tried to decide, Gidan asked, almost offhandedly,

“So why did you come? You could easily make toys like this yourself, couldn’t you?”

“Ah……”

Gidan pointed with his chin to the magic wands on the table.

Haruna hurriedly stuffed the wands into her bag, then tapped furiously at her phone.

“I cannot make toys.”