The Serenade of Nostalgia

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“How about it? This was a reward from bristle spirits of the dead.”

Guiche, proud as a peacock, showed his Medal of White Hair Soul to his classmates.

“Waah,” classmates sighed.

“Could it be that it’s not White Hair but Bristles?”

Someone commented, Guiche blushed.

“Aah! Don’t say that! It's White Hair reward!”

Guiche glimpsed the nook of the classroom. Montmorency was there. Though all his classmates had gathered around Guiche, Montmorency, on the other hand, rested her elbows on a desk and stared outside the window, looking disinterested. Hey, look this way, I want you to hear the story… Guiche felt hurt for a moment.

“Great… Guiche, you commanded the company that lunged first into the city of Saxe-Gotha?”

“Don't mention it,”

Guiche proudly nodded. Everyone praised their classmate who had great military achievements.

“No way, Guiche. Honestly before now we thought that you were just a big mouthed rascal, but now we can recognize our mistake without fail!”

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