TTRIA 13

“Why?”

Curiosity flickered in Hugo’s eyes. Jeff, facing him, opened his mouth in a nonchalant tone.

“I know it is the same raw material. But strangely, the scent you use feels better.”

“…My scent is better?”

It did not seem like such a surprising thing to say. Hugo, his green eyes wide, muttered as if he could not believe it. Jeff, who was staring blankly at his bewildered face, added.

“I did not know when we met at the university, but now that there is a point of comparison, I can tell. Though I have not smelled a variety of <Vibrook>’s scents yet.”

“I see. You like my scent more. Not just anyone, but someone with a sensitive sense of smell like you, Jeff….”

Hugo beamed. The look of joy was evident. It was a strange reaction. It was still a <Vibrook> perfume either way, yet he was so happy just because it was his own. As if he had received recognition for the specialness of his scent.

Is the <Vibrook> that Wayne sends to Hugo something different? But to say that, the scent from Hugo that he had smelled until now was not that special. He used to think it was the most special, but now he knows a scent more captivating than that.

He had only made it up to get an extra perfume.

Facing Hugo’s reaction, he suddenly felt a strange sense of dissonance. It felt like a puzzle was coming together, yet it was not yet forming a clear picture. An instinctive realization, like holding an important but frustrating clue in his hand.

“……”

Jeff carefully inhaled the scent. It was still a familiar scent, making it hard to believe that he had been using various perfumes. No matter how much only the essential component of the raw material remained, how could it be so unchanging. It was a little strange. Come to think of it, even in the morning when the scent would not have evaporated, Hugo only exuded the scent of ‘that’ raw material. No matter how obsessively he himself reacted only to ‘that’ scent, it was not as if he could not smell other things.

“…How about it, Hugo. Can you give me your perfume?”

The children who exuded the scent of ‘that’ raw material despite not using perfume. And Ego. Could it be that Hugo was the same as them? If his scent was not due to perfume, but was entirely his own body odor…. If Hugo himself knew this fact and was hiding it,

“I want to have your scent.”

Hugo would never be able to give him the perfume.

“Ah… I would like to, but.”

A hint of regret flickered across Hugo’s face. He said with a bitter smile.

“Sorry, Jeff. I did not bring the one I usually use.”

“Ah, really? You must have left it at the dormitory?”

“Yes. If I had known, I would have brought it. But when you return to the university, I will be able to give it to you then.”

“Alright. Then promise me, Hugo. That when I finish my work and return, you will gift me the scent you used.”

As Jeff said with a smile, Hugo also showed a gentle smile.

“Yes, I promise.”

Jeff, who had loosely propped up his chin, covered his mouth with his fingers.

He is exuding the scent all this time, yet he says he left his perfume behind?

“I will look forward to it.”

As expected, Hugo, like the children, possessed the body odor.

“…A bug that sucks the blood of its own sister. A vile bug that drools while looking at its young nephew’s snack. If you were to cut open that stomach, a fat, plump leech would surely come out….”

“Run away, Jeff!”

He too is that thing which hid the shadow of the full moon,

a ‘bug’.

Two days later, Hugo left.

The mansion returned to its usual routine. Jeff, too, taught the children at the scheduled time, and received the scent sent by Wayne at the scheduled time. And.

“…Oh, dear. There he goes again.”

He would wake up at a set time and wander the mansion. However, the range of his movements was slightly different each time. Sometimes he would circle the corridor on the second floor, and sometimes he would wander around the first floor hall. Occasionally, he would even step outside the mansion.

The young man who had become the sleepwalking monitor due to his short tenure could not hide his anxiety each time. When he was very young, his own younger brother had shown symptoms of sleepwalking. His brother, who would wander the house with blank, vacant eyes, would show violence from the moment a hand touched him. The way he transformed as if possessed by a demon was truly…. For the young man, the memory of that time was ingrained as a terror.

So he was afraid. Because he had experienced the violence of sleepwalking. It was difficult to handle even such a small child, so controlling a well-built adult man like Jeff would be no easy task. To subdue him, it would take at least two strong men. It was not something the young man could handle alone. But the timid young man, even knowing his situation was unreasonable, did not have the courage to suggest it.

However, contrary to his worries, Jeff’s sleepwalking was on the gentle side. He would wander the mansion as if taking a walk and then quietly return to his room. It was a homing instinct. He would worry when he headed towards the garden or the forest, but so far, there had been no particular accidents. Even as the frequency increased, the symptoms remained mild, so the higher-ups did not devise any particular countermeasures.

Thus, the young man came to accept Jeff’s sleepwalking as a part of his daily life. He was no longer afraid. Even if he left him alone, he would return on his own anyway.

‘Looks like he has no intention of following me into the forest anymore.’

The presence following him had disappeared. Jeff gave a lighthearted smile. Moving with an unfocused gaze was harder than he thought. He put strength into his perpetually relaxed eyes and, only then, savored the now clear vision. Jeff, who took a flashlight out from inside his gown, made his way through the forest. But at some point, he turned off the flashlight. It was because the experience of the past days had accumulated in his body, allowing him to recognize the direction even without the help of light.

Jeff walked, relying on the moonlight that penetrated between the trees. It was when the beautiful form of the annex came into view through the gap between the giant trees.

Along with a captivating scent, the melody of an instrument flowed.

“…A violin?”

The melody of a string instrument flowed out through the wide-open arched window. Jeff looked at the back of the figure leaning against the windowsill. His slanted black hair swayed in the wind. The arm holding the bow moved with both fluidity and power.

The curtains swaying in the breeze and the movements melting into the melody. It was like a waltz shared with a ghost.

It was beautiful. And at the same time, desolate. Because the melody flowing over sounded just like the cry being let out by a slender and fragile being.

“……”

He knows this sensation.

The feeling that he must stop here, a feeling of something forcibly holding his steps. A strange sensation that makes him watch what is in that place, Jeff knows it. This was the thrill he felt when he faced the portrait trapped in a frame.

The master of the grand mansion and the artist who creates captivating scents. Wayne Gray, who, despite having an enviable background, was preserved in the portrait with sad eyes. That sadness and pent-up anger, which could not be found when he faced him in the pouring sunlight, were now accumulating and flowing in those shoulders and that melody.

The daytime, when he smiled gently like the spring sunshine.

The night, with a cool face as he escaped the maze, and when he trembled like a corpse.

What is his true form? …What kind of face is he making now? Is he smiling gently? Or is he sad like the melody?

Just like on the dawn of the full moon when he was drawn by the scent, Jeff advanced toward the annex. Rustle, the moment his footsteps sounded, the music stopped. The violin that had been resting on his left shoulder slowly disappeared. The figure who had lowered the instrument slanted his upper body. The gaze that had been looking up blankly finally met his.

“……”

The brilliant colors from the portrait were staring at Jeff. He opened his mouth with a gentle smile.

“Sleepwalking again?”

Jeff did not answer.

“Are you unconscious this time?”

“……”

“Would you like to come inside? The air is quite chilly. You might catch a cold if you stay out there.”

“……”

“No words.”

Wayne stared at Jeff with a smiling face. He watched him persistently, as if trying to gauge his state of consciousness. Jeff received his gaze while maintaining his composure. As they continued their strange staring contest, Wayne, who had slightly turned his head, whispered something. Then, the sound of footsteps was heard from inside the annex. What appeared from the half-open door was Ego.

Grrr—

The dog, baring its teeth, let out a fierce breath. Jeff calmly faced the dog. He could feel Wayne’s gaze from the second-floor window. This time, his whisper was heard clearly.

“Bite.”

The giant dog pouncing on him happened in an instant. A gasp escaped him as it stomped on his sternum. He almost cursed. He barely suppressed the urge to twist his body and run away, but when the teeth touched the nape of his neck, he could no longer bear it. A chill ran down his spine. If this continued, he would really die. It was the moment Jeff was about to push the dog away, putting strength into his arms.

“Stop it, Ego.”

The dog’s movements ceased. Its teeth were just about to dig into his skin. If it had pushed in just a little more, a piece of his flesh would have been torn off. If it had been just a little bit later….

“……”

He could see Wayne’s form beyond the dog’s body. He had an expressionless face, as if he had never been smiling. The sight of him looking down while leaning against the windowsill was as impassive as a doll.

“That is enough. Come back now.”

Ego obediently got up and headed toward the annex. Jeff, left alone, looked at the window with a dazed expression. Wayne was still standing in that spot. After looking for a good while, he disappeared into the darkness.

“……”

Jeff could tell. The meaning of the gaze Wayne had sent. In those beautiful blue eyes, only one emotion resided.

Suspicion.

Even after returning to his room, hollow laughter kept leaking out. When he closed his eyes, Wayne’s image came to mind. The image of him ordering the dog with a smiling face. And the image of him erasing his expression as if it were a drawing, once he had determined the state of his consciousness through Ego.

“To think he was hiding such a side beneath that angelic face.”

Following the full moon, and now today. The Wayne he encountered at night showed an unexpected side. Lying collapsed so pitifully as to be mistaken for a corpse, then bewitching a person with a sorrowful melody, only to call a dog and threaten them.

“…The third time today.”

Come to think of it, it was already the third time he had witnessed Wayne Gray at night. The night he came out of the maze garden with the child. The night of the full moon when he was collapsed with a body like a ball of fire. And tonight, when he was playing the instrument.

The head of the family, whose face was hard to see even once in the daytime mansion, seemed to head to the annex at night. Perhaps the annex at night was his personal refuge. A place to hide his sick body. A place to enjoy a secret hobby. Wayne Gray’s own secret refuge.

…If he were to dig into such a place, would he not be able to find out something? Whether it be a clue to the <Vibrook> that Wayne Gray creates, or his true self.

“…Ten days left until the full moon.”

Yes. In that case, on the coming full moon, he must hide in the annex. And he will face Wayne Gray. He will confirm his shadow and prove to himself.

That he too is a ‘bug’. That he is the true host who leads the ‘bugs’ through scent.

He will confirm it without fail.