My wife and I returned home this fall. My family is a farmer, and now that my parents have retired, my younger brother Minor, not me, is taking over the field. I have no choice but to hide it now, but my younger brother is hanging out with a black and fine strawberry that doesn’t look like my older brother. My wife, who wore yukata at the autumn festival in the village, was turned into a melody by her brother's nephew decatin.
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