In the end, the old woman managed to work the button loose.
It fell to the ground with a faint, crisp sound.
Then came the barely audible sound of it rolling.
The Labrador Retriever immediately got up to chase after it.
The old woman stopped her.
It was only a button.
If it was lost, then it was lost.
This coat...
The old woman ran her fingers over the cuff.
It was old enough to be retired.
"Goodbye."
That wasn't the button you'd carelessly lost later.
The old woman glanced in the Labrador Retriever's direction.
Maybe it knew you'd come here to wait for me.
You smiled.
I'd let down someone who cared about me.
It felt strange.
You remembered!
The old woman's eyes widened.
There was no response.
"I've been talking so much again."
It was precisely because she couldn't see that, so often, Lele was her eyes—and her hands were her eyes, too.
The Labrador Retriever barked, as if agreeing with the old woman.
"I just wanted to say thank you."
Next time, I'll come sit in this little wood again.
"It seems your friend is quite special."
The old woman smiled.
It was the button that had just fallen from the cuff of her coat.
She couldn't help raising a hand slightly and reaching behind her.
"...A button..."
"...Is that you?"
"You're the only one who doesn't mind me being a bother."
There was also a strange, inexplicable feeling.
She received no response.
"You don't mind me being a bother."
Even though the other party hadn't made a sound, the old woman knew they were still there.
The old woman chattered on and on.
She gave her head a slight shake.
The Labrador Retriever's barking abruptly stopped.
Maybe it knew.
She and