TTRIA 33

“I’ll come find you in the room. Lock the door and don’t let anyone in but me. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. See you later then.”

Only after the door to Cecil and Ego’s room closed did Jeff move to the next room. It was a sparse space with just a wooden bed, an old dresser, and a single coat rack. The scene was entirely different from the orphanage with its rows of iron beds along the walls, yet it somehow brought that place to mind. Perhaps it was the simple, unadorned setup. Or maybe it was because he’d come from staying at Gray’s mansion.

“Haa… I’m beat.”

Jeff collapsed onto the bed, which was so small his feet dangled off the edge, letting out a heavy sigh. Why was finding a place to stay for one night so exhausting? Most lodging places were curious about Ego but hesitant to let him in, forcing Jeff to circle the town endlessly.

Not that he didn’t understand their perspective. It just made him overly conscious of Ego’s feelings. The dog surely understood the situation, and Jeff worried it might feel hurt. On top of that, fending off the stares directed at Cecil had left his nerves frayed. No wonder he was worn out.

If he closed his eyes now, he’d probably fall asleep instantly.

Resisting the sweet temptation, Jeff sat up. He peeled off his less-than-clean jacket and patted his stiff shoulders. Perhaps because of the relief of finally resting, the sensations of his wounds, previously ignored, came rushing back.

The faint itch of a healing palm. The still-swollen left ankle from the escape and long hours of driving. And the dull aches of bruises scattered across his body.

To think he’d been wandering around in this state. He’d been so focused on shielding Cecil that he forgot how rough he looked himself. Jeff found it a bit amusing.

“Too much commotion. We need to leave tomorrow… oh, damn.”

As he unbuttoned his waistcoat, a bundle of papers tucked inside spilled onto the floor. They were clues stolen from the mansion. Jeff clicked his tongue and crouched to gather them. Unfolding one of the carefully folded sheets, he saw a photo of Allen, who had stayed on as a teacher rather than a prodigy.

A face that reminded him of his mother. Unfamiliar to him, but familiar to her.

“…”

A spiral pattern was etched onto the photo of the clear-eyed, intelligent young man. What did it mean? What about the other prodigies marked with the same pattern? What connected them?

“…I need to find out.”

What criteria determined who got the mark, and what fate befell those marked? Had something drastic happened, like with Allen, to change their appearance entirely? To resolve these questions, he’d have to track down every person in the documents himself.

Jeff pulled a notebook from inside his jacket. It was one of the few items he’d taken from the mansion. Perhaps because so much had happened, it felt like ages since he’d opened it. He carefully flipped through the pages. A note from the young man caught his eye.

On the night of the full moon, shadows are revealed. Those with doubts, chase the shadows. The truth will emerge.

“…”

Back then, he didn’t understand, but now he did. That young man was a “bug” too. And like Hugo, he had been watching Jeff.

Jeff wanted to ask him.

“Why…”

Why did you leave me this note? Why give me the butterfly paperweight? Did you want me to know you? To tell the person holed up in the library studying insects that you were the very being I was obsessed with?

Or was it a warning?

“What was your role?”

Drawing Jeff into the mansion as a tutor was Hugo’s job. He wouldn’t have bothered with someone Hugo had already marked as prey.

“Why did you die?”

The injury to the back of his head. His crushed brain. A body so brutally mangled it was indescribable. A brilliant university student killed by a crazed vagrant.

The newspaper headlines swirled in his mind. Why did he have to die so tragically? Was it really a vagrant’s doing? No. It couldn’t be. He was surely eliminated by Gray. Because he failed to fulfill his role as a prodigy. Perhaps…

“It’s a paperweight. I collect them as a hobby… this is one of them, so no need to feel burdened. You don’t have to use it. Just keep it as decoration…”

“Jeff?”

Hugo, approaching with a smile. The young man, startled, fleeing at the sight of him. Hugo’s green eyes, intently watching his retreating figure.

And then…

“You okay, Benjamin?”

Mila, silently observing Daniel, deliberately disrupting the situation. The smallest, sharpest girl with an enigmatic gaze.

“…”

Yes. Perhaps the one who killed him was another prodigy. The prodigies integrated into society formed their own community, watching each other. To root out those who were useless or traitorous. If so, what drove them to such cruelty? What reward did Gray offer them…

“Damn Gray.”

Jeff leaned back against the bed, frowning. Just thinking of that family made his skin crawl. But he had to admit it. Taking them on alone in that wretched mansion was reckless. He was still powerless.

Collie, the sanctuary of fragrance. The deep, gentle forests of warm Collie. The secretive mansion nestled within. A perfumer family crafting enchanting scents. How could he expose the ugly truth hidden behind their beautiful facade? How could he cut through the intricate web they’d woven over time?

“…These papers alone aren’t enough. I need more definitive evidence…”

Evidence strong enough to tarnish the Gray family’s image and warrant a search of their mansion. Something even their complicit allies, who turned a blind eye to their misdeeds, couldn’t ignore…

Knock knock—

A sudden knock interrupted his thoughts. Jeff turned toward the door. A faint “scent” slipped through the gap. It was Cecil.

“Oh…”

Perhaps because he’d been avoiding it throughout their escape from Collie, he’d gotten too lost in thought. Jeff hurriedly opened the nightstand and hid the notebook and papers. He rubbed his unwashed face and opened the door.

“Jeff.”

A fresh scent flooded in. Water droplets from disheveled hair brushed Jeff’s cheek. Startled, Cecil wiped it away with his thumb. A slightly cool warmth touched him softly.

“Sorry. That was cold. I should’ve dried my hair better.”

“No… it’s fine.”

They were too close.

Jeff quickly pulled his hand away and stepped back. The contrast between Cecil’s clean appearance and his own disheveled state made him regret getting lost in thought without washing.

Damn it, do I smell? You notice others’ scents easily but not your own. Jeff anxiously sniffed his clothes. Cecil, lowering his hesitant hand, murmured softly.

“Should I have waited longer?”

“Huh?”

“I kept waiting, but you didn’t come. So I came here first…”

His downcast blue eyes radiated a sulky air. Jeff had only pulled away because he was worried about smelling, but Cecil seemed to take it differently, sending a sheepish, slightly hurt look. Facing that expression, Jeff felt a persistent tickle in his chest.

“Who said anything? I didn’t say a word.”

Trying to keep his lips from curling into a smile, his voice came out gruffer than intended. Cecil’s mouth shut tightly. He stood at the doorway, unable to enter or turn away. That hesitant, cautious demeanor felt strangely heart-wrenching.

“No need to overthink and get all self-conscious, dummy.”

Jeff swallowed a sigh and pulled Cecil’s hand. He let himself be led and sat on the bed. Jeff grabbed a towel from the nightstand and vigorously dried Cecil’s dark hair. Startled by the rough handling, Cecil looked up. Jeff, pressing his head down with force, said.

“Good job coming.”

“You mean that?”

“Yeah. Good job.”

“…Liar.”

Cecil, muttering softly, grabbed the hand ruffling his hair and pulled it down.

“You were frowning.”

“That’s because I was worried I might smell.”

“Smell?”

Cecil’s eyes widened. Jeff scratched his flushed face nonchalantly and muttered.

“Yeah, smell. I got distracted and forgot to wash. You can tell by looking at me.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“…”

He must really look rough. It was a relief to clear the misunderstanding, but seeing Cecil’s agreeing expression made his face flush even more. Jeff tossed the towel over those blue eyes scanning him and hurried to the door.

“…Wait here. I’ll wash up quick and be back.”

“Okay.”

Cecil, pulling the towel down, smiled brightly and nodded. Jeff pressed down the tickling sensation in his chest again. He fled the room and headed to the bathroom. Thankfully, it was empty. Only the lingering steam and faint trace of Cecil’s scent remained.

Jeff approached the sink and checked his reflection in the mirror. A hollow laugh escaped. His ears were burning red.

I thought I was pretty shameless.

“…Pathetic. Why are your ears red, you idiot?”

Even his glaring expression looked pathetic. Jeff roughly turned the faucet. He only hoped the gushing cold water would wash away the heat.

“Cecil? You asleep?”

Returning to the room, Jeff went straight to the bed. At some point, Ego was nestled in Cecil’s arms. Holding the black dog’s body, his eyes closed, he looked utterly at peace.

“…No wonder you’re tired.”

Jeff chuckled and sat on the floor. Leaning his arm on the bed, he tilted his head slightly. He took in Cecil’s deep sleep.

His tightly closed eyelids were smooth and pale. The dense eyelashes, delicately fanned out, cast soft shadows. Weren’t they heavy? The thought came to him because those downcast eyes always gave off a drowsy feeling. The weight of those thick lashes seemed to mirror the sleepy lids.

Jeff slouched forward, almost lying down. Captivated by the drowsy sensation, facing their sleeping faces, he felt sleep creeping in too.

“…You were always such a sweet sleeper.”

The words slipped out, something his mother used to say when he was little. She’d said his flour-dusted cheeks, sleeping soundly, looked indescribably sweet. Watching him made her drowsy, and she’d end up closing her eyes too.

“…Now I get what she meant.”

Falling asleep and waking up like that felt like the languid, sated sensation after eating a sweet dessert.

Jeff closed his eyes slowly, recalling that distant memory. Though he’d grown into someone who couldn’t sleep deeply even for a single day, he didn’t mind. He’d learned it didn’t have to be him sleeping soundly. The wish for someone’s sleep to be truly peaceful—that feeling alone was enough to satisfy him.

“…You were always such a sweet sleeper.”

Cecil, you too…

With that thought, Jeff surrendered to the encroaching sleep. Unaware of the blue gaze that cautiously opened and settled on him.

Jeff only realized it after trying on a new shirt bought in the town. Even with the marks of hardship, quality fabric held its value. The feel against his skin was incomparably different. The human body was fickle, having adapted to the luxury of the past few months.

But while his skin might protest, Jeff’s heart felt at ease, like returning home. It finally felt like he was wearing his own clothes.

He tossed aside the once-glossy dress shoes without hesitation and switched to practical boots. With a bomber jacket and a flat cap pulled low, he looked quite different. The only regret was his hair color. Changing it would’ve been a sure way to throw off pursuers.

But dyeing it was impractical in many ways. It required a professional salon in a big city, took time, and was costly. Plus, the effect wasn’t permanent, so a wig was more practical. But in a small town like this, even that was hard to come by, so they’d have to move to a small city.

Jeff sat on the bed, examining a paper map he’d picked up that morning. Recalling planned routes, he narrowed down a suitable small city. Then he pored over national newspapers. There were still no articles about the murder at Gray’s mansion or their wanted notices.

“…What’s their game?”

Unease outweighed relief. Given the circumstances, Wayne surely knew Jeff was the one who attacked the butler. Why wasn’t he issuing a wanted notice or publishing articles? Was he reluctant to make it public? Afraid of tarnishing his reputation? Or confident he could track them without involving the authorities?

“Let’s see who wins, you bastard.”

Jeff gritted his teeth and meticulously scanned the national papers. As he picked up a local newspaper, a long shadow fell from the doorway. Looking up to see who it was, Jeff let out a gasp of admiration.

“I thought it’d look awkward…”

Cecil, in a dark gray flat cap, black turtleneck, and tweed field jacket, smiled softly. He looked like a stage actor. Playing an ordinary young man, but with a strikingly beautiful appearance, the star of the show.

“It suits you better than I expected.”

“I like it too.”

“That’s a relief. Oh, but pull the cap down a bit more. Your face is too visible.”

Come here. At Jeff’s gesture, Cecil stepped closer. Jeff meant for him to lean down so he could adjust the cap, but Cecil knelt, sitting on the floor. With his hands on Jeff’s thigh, looking up, he exuded a kind of blind innocence.

“…You didn’t need to kneel.”

“Yeah?”

You’d think he’d stand after realizing, but Cecil just gazed up with a clear expression, as if he wanted to stay like that.

Jeff didn’t press further and reached out. He removed the cap and swept back the disheveled bangs. The hair slipping through his fingers was as smooth and soft as silk. He could play with it all day, but Jeff suppressed the urge and put the cap back on.

“How’s this? Can you see?”

Adjusting the cap, he asked. Cecil nodded. Jeff grabbed the hands on his thigh and stood, helping Cecil up. Facing him, he checked his appearance.

“Looks good. Better than before. Now, let’s add…”

Jeff pulled glasses from the jacket’s inner pocket and grinned. They were reading glasses bought at the town’s flea market.

“Just this.”

Putting the glasses on Cecil, Jeff said.

“I checked them all, and these were the best. They might be uncomfortable because of the prescription, but bear with it for now. I’ll get you new ones in the city.”

“It’s fine. They’re not too bad.”

“That’s a relief. Alright, we’re set.”

Stepping back, Jeff nodded with satisfaction.

“Good thing we could pull this together.”

He hadn’t expected much from a small town, but it had everything they needed. Finding decent glasses at the flea market was an unexpected stroke of luck.

“By the way, where’s Ego?”

As Jeff looked around, a black muzzle appeared from the hallway beyond the door. Jeff strode out with a mischievous grin. Ego, crouched in the creaky wooden hallway, glared with discontent.

“That bad, huh?”

“Seems stuffy.”

Cecil, following, bent down and stroked Ego’s black nose. He looked sympathetic about the leash. Jeff shrugged and met Ego’s eyes.

“Sorry, but outside, we’ve got no choice. It’s stuffy, but you’ll have to bear it. It’s not just to restrain you—it’s to protect you too.”

Ego didn’t react much, likely understanding. Jeff grinned, crouched down, and pulled out something he’d prepared.

“Here’s something for you, Ego.”

Fluttering from his fingers was a light blue handkerchief.

“Pretty, right? Look closely, and you’ll see butterfly embroidery. Like you guys.”

Jeff rolled the handkerchief and tied it as a ribbon on Ego’s leash.

“There. Looks good, doesn’t it?”

With a dramatic “ta-da,” Ego seemed intrigued, sniffing the handkerchief. The blue ribbon alone made the massive black dog exude a gentle vibe.

Quite the improvement. Jeff laughed, recalling their first encounter when Ego lunged like it would kill him. Hard to believe they were together now.

“You look nice, Ego.”

Cecil, also pleased, smiled softly. Watching them, Jeff felt oddly full. He couldn’t hide his twitching lips as he gazed at them for a while.

“Good lord, it’s pouring out there.”

The innkeeper, closing the window tightly, clicked his tongue. Wiping his soaked hands on his apron and heading to the front desk, a bell jingled as the door opened. Two young men and a dog stepped in, braving the storm. Drenched and hesitating to enter, they looked pitiful. The innkeeper, with a kind heart, hurried to greet them.

“My, you’re soaked. Tough day in this rain. Looking for a room?”

“Yes, sir. Is there a room available? And… is it okay for the dog?”

One of the young men answered with a smile. His face, partially shaded by his cap, was strikingly attractive. The innkeeper felt his heart soften. He looked down at the dog with a warmer disposition. Though startlingly large, its gentle eyes and wet fur stirred pity. The ribbon on its leash was pretty cute too.

“He won’t cause trouble, will he?”

“Of course not. He’s very gentle.”

“Normally, it’d be tough… but how can I say no to those eyes? Alright, come on in.”

The innkeeper, cheerfully agreeing, pulled a key from the drawer.

“It’s the last room on the second floor. Not big, but it’s got two beds, so you can rest comfortably. There’s a fireplace too, perfect for warming up. Just, if possible, keep this guy off the beds? He’s so big, he might break them.”

He laughed, tossing in a playful jest.

“I’ll get you a cushion instead. Big and plush, he’ll love it.”

“Thank you.”

The young man with soft amber eyes paid the fee. Checking the bills, the innkeeper added with a slight smile.

“Breakfast isn’t included, but if you’d like, I can prepare some bread and tea tomorrow morning.”