TTRIA 5

Time at the mansion passed quickly, and before I knew it, a fortnight had gone by. They were days filled with abundance and feasting, days that were truly more than I deserved.

The weather here was consistently clear and sunny, and if I wished, I could enjoy sports like horseback riding or tennis at any time. The meals provided at every sitting were so splendid as to be overwhelming, and the prepared clothing was also impeccably neat and stylish.

Furthermore, all the writing instruments used at the mansion were handmade products engraved with the family name. The tutor was specially gifted a dedicated fountain pen engraved with his initials, and it was so magnificent that even Jeff, who had no greed for material possessions, found his heart swayed. The thick body with its classic design not only offered a sensation as if it were custom-made for Jeff’s hand, but its writing feel was also unparalleled. I felt I could understand a little why people would spend expensive money to use such things.

Besides that, there were various other things to enjoy at the mansion. A huge snooker table and dartboard, a playroom filled with records, a music room full of antiquated instruments, a gallery and an art studio, and even a library that housed a vast collection of books.

The library, in particular, was so impressive in its quality and scale that it rivaled that of a university, astonishing Jeff. It was not just the sheer number of books, but also the fact that they were systematically classified that was impressive. Old, leather-bound books that appeared to be rare editions were shelved in the deepest parts of the library, and the atmosphere created by the well-polished bookshelves and soft lighting was an environment perfectly suited for the pursuit of knowledge.

Contrary to my initial concerns, the children were also following the lessons well.

Mila, the youngest but quick to understand and bright. Daniel, mischievous but with good concentration. Benjamin, slower to understand than the other two but with strong perseverance. The three children, who had a desire for learning, grew day by day, making teaching them a rewarding experience. Looking into their eyes, filled with pure trust and affection, made me feel as if I had become a god.

They were truly luxurious and perfect days, with nothing more to be desired.

…Yes, on the surface, that was certainly how it seemed.

But Jeff was alone in feeling a crack within the peaceful surface. It was a kind of incongruity. The elements that formed the single, massive structure of the mansion, the air that filled the space, the attitude of the people, and even the children he was in charge of. Everything seemed to be intricately interlocked and running without a single thing out of place, yet within it all, he sensed a foreign gap somewhere.

It began on the first day, with the gift box sent by the mansion.

Knock, knock. The gift box, left there after two knocks. The neatly tied ribbon and the aroma of scented oil seeping into the cream-colored handkerchief. The bizarre experience of waking up to the morning as soon as I smelled it.

The situation of having the entire night stolen felt a bit unsettling, but at the time, I did not think much of it. I thought I had experienced the scent’s effect excessively due to accumulated tension and fatigue. Besides, when I smelled the scent again after finishing my schedule, it had already evaporated, making it difficult to judge its effects.

Thus, the events of that first night could have been considered a strange experience. Had it not been for the box delivered with a knock the next day, it certainly would have been.

‘They sent it again.’

The mansion’s goodwill, which I thought would end on the first day, continued on the second day as well. It was puzzling, but I did not think deeply about it. I simply assumed they were being especially considerate because I had commented that the effect was good. That is why Jeff opened the box just like he had on the first day. And when he opened his eyes, the morning sun was filling the room. The night had disappeared again. It was the same on the third day.

Only after experiencing it three times in a row did Jeff realize. That whenever he smelled the scent soaked into the piece of cloth in the box, he would invariably be robbed of his nighttime hours. That he would fall asleep as if he had fainted and wake up in the morning, on his bed. And yet, he himself had no memory of putting the box away, nor of lying down in bed.

If it happened once, it could be called a coincidence. But three times? After the repeated experience, the identity of the scent became suspicious. A scent that turns you into a sleepwalker just by smelling it. If he had smelled it outside, he would not have known even if not only his pockets but all his internal organs had been completely cleaned out.

‘For reducing fatigue and aiding sleep?’

Could that really be described as ‘aiding’? It seemed to be made with the purpose of causing one to pass out, rather than merely inducing sleep.

That was not the only strange thing. After smelling the scent, my head felt dazed, as if I had become stupid, and the remnants of the scent lingered endlessly at the tip of my nose. Like a mild symptom of addiction.

His heightened nerves made him suspect not only the identity of the scent but also the intentions of the mansion. At the same time, Jeff doubted himself. It could be a side effect due to his own constitution of having a sensitive sense of smell. Before suspecting others, shouldn’t one first suspect oneself to prevent future trouble? Besides, if there truly was some intention behind the scent, it was better not to show that he was suspicious of their motives. That way, he could aim for a moment when they let their guard down.

Knock, knock—

The fourth box, arriving with two knocks.

By not opening it, Jeff was able to protect his nighttime hours and his complete memory for the first time.

The second sense of incongruity was the children.

“Mila, Daniel, Benjamin.”

The children, who had been engrossed in their writing, looked up all at once. Their faces, not knowing the reason, were bright and innocent, but Jeff could not shake off a strange feeling as he looked at them. It was a sense of incongruity. Faint yet distinct, an oddness that scratched at his nerves even when he tried to ignore it.

That is why he asked.

“Are you all perhaps wearing perfume?”

Why was the scent of Hugo, the scent of <Vebreuk> perfume, wafting from the children?

“No. Perfume is expensive, isn’t it? We only use soap.”

Daniel replied, tilting his head. Mila and Benjamin did not deny his words. Rather, they nodded their heads as if it were a matter of course.

“I suppose so, right?”

Yes, Daniel was right. It is natural for young children to smell of soap, not perfume. That makes it all the more incomprehensible. This situation, where the scent of <Vebreuk> ‘perfume’ that I had smelled on Hugo and ‘him’—not the scent of the <Vebreuk> ‘soap’ used in the mansion—was clearly brushing past the tip of my nose.

Moreover, that scent was not one created by the current head of the family, Wayne Gray. He had said he does not produce the scents of his ancestors. Chronologically, ‘his’ scent must have belonged to the previous generation of <Vebreuk>. So why were Hugo and the children emanating the same scent of the previous generation as ‘he’ did?

“The poor, talented child. That’s me. And I was lucky enough to be adopted through Gray’s grace.”

“I heard you are close with young master Hugo. Is the young master doing well?”

…Hugo Gray.

A being who was unprecedentedly adopted from among the talented children and received the Gray name. Judging from the butler’s attitude, who seemed to worry about and miss him, one could guess that his position as an adopted son was not merely a nominal one.

Moreover, Hugo always implicitly revealed his pride in Gray and his respect for the current family head. If he grew up building a bond as strong as that of a biological child, having been acknowledged by the previous generation, the <Vebreuk> scent he used could have been something left to him by the previous generation. In fact, it might be that the current family head produces it separately for Hugo, even if it is not for sale.

But thinking back, the scent I smelled when I first met Hugo was said to be a perfume made by the current family head, not the previous one. He said it was a new scent but ended up not being released because of what I had said.

If so, why had Hugo always been wearing a scent that was never released? Why am I considering that scent to be identical to the one from the previous generation? Was it because the same raw materials were used? Am I reacting to the scent of a specific raw material in the previous generation’s perfume that ‘he’ used?

Then, coming back to it, what is the reason the children smell of ‘their’ scent? Were the raw materials of the previous generation also used in the soap the children use?

But such speculation, far from providing a solution, only left a bigger question. In the soap the children used, which I obtained through a servant, there was nothing that would bring to mind the scent of the previous generation’s <Vebreuk>. The scent emanating from the children was not that of soap. In other words, it was the children’s own natural body odor.

I could not understand it at all. In the first place, was it even possible for children of different ages and genders to have the same body odor? Let alone a scent like perfume?

“Teacher, please play with me!”

A fragrance wafted from Daniel, who was clinging to my waist.

“Teacher, should I interpret this part like this?”

A fragrance wafted from Mila, who approached with a book.

“T-tea, teacher, h-h-have th-this!”

A fragrance wafted from Benjamin, who offered a hidden snack.

Jeff observed the three children carefully. The conclusion he reached after a long period of careful attention was one. The children do not emit the same body odor. They each clearly have their own distinct body odor. However, within it, there is a specific, overlapping scent that is the same. That was the scent of the previous generation’s <Vebreuk> that Jeff was looking for, the scent of ‘him’ and Hugo. In the end, the question only repeated itself again.

What on earth is the identity of that ‘scent’?

Sweet yet bitter, refreshing yet smoky. Like dry paper, yet also like waterlogged moss. Soft like the fur of a delicate animal, yet also nervous and sharp like metal. An unknown scent that could not be expressed in words.

Once I focused on the scent, a sense of determination arose. I wanted to know the identity of the scent, its ‘raw materials’. I had a premonition that only then could I get one step closer to ‘him’. Since the ‘scent’ was one of the few clues ‘he’ had left behind. It could not be a coincidence that in a place I was led to by a person with the same scent as ‘him’, there exist people with the same scent as ‘him’.

However, tracing the clues of the scent was not at all easy. Even after digging into every single move of the children who carried the scent of ‘that’ body odor, there was nothing that could serve as a clue. There was also no way for a mere tutor to uncover the perfume-making formula of a perfumer family. I devoured the mansion’s books voraciously, but while my knowledge of scents grew, there was no information about ‘that scent’ anywhere.

In the end, there was only one method left. To ask the family head for help directly. If he was a perfumer skilled enough to cure illnesses, he might be able to identify the scent I described. I did not know if he would readily help, but that was the only way.

Jeff waited for a meeting with Wayne Gray.

But.

“I apologize, Mr. Lowell. There has been an unexpected change in the family head’s external schedule, and his return to the mansion is being delayed. I will let you know as soon as a definite return date is set.”

“…I understand.”

The family head, who was said to be returning in five days, did not return even after a fortnight had passed. An important external engagement had come up, so important that even the upcoming fortnight’s event had to be canceled. That was the superficial reason the butler explained.

However, Jeff had seen it. He had witnessed the presence of the family head, who was supposed to be away from the mansion, with his own two eyes.

That was the third sense of incongruity Jeff felt.

That day, sleep just would not come. The scent from the box and the children’s body odor. Those two incongruities gnawed at his nerves. I considered whether strolling in the garden and getting some night air would make me feel better, but I gave up on the idea. I did not want to do anything that would catch the eye of a servant this late at night.

The next best option was the balcony. Jeff leaned his body against the railing and closed his eyes. Sleep still would not come, but the night breeze blowing in from the forest soothed his tangled heart.

From very far away, the hoot of an owl could be heard. When the guardian of the night cried out, the leaves rustled and enjoyed a dance, and the insects of the grass responded with a chorus. It was a ball of the night that only the sleepless could experience. But it seemed Jeff was not the only one who was sleepless.

Swish, swish.

The sound of someone’s footsteps could be heard on the dew-laden grass. It was an unfamiliar presence. At that moment, a strange scent pierced through the smell of the grass and drifted in. Sweet yet bitter, refreshing yet smoky. An incomprehensible scent that stimulated the nerves.

Jeff, pushing his eyelids open, turned his head to follow the sound and the scent. The destination of his gaze was the beautiful maze garden. From there, a man quietly revealed himself.

Hair as black as the abyss where no light exists and skin pale without a trace of blood. A man with eyes so translucent and brilliant they seemed transparent, yet their depths were unknowable.

“…Wayne Gray?”

Jeff rubbed his eyes and stared intently at the man. No matter how many times he did it, nothing changed. He had certainly not seen wrong. The person revealed under the clear moonlight was definitely the subject of the portrait.

When did he come back? I had not heard anything about him returning today. Did the work go well, so he came back in a hurry? But even so, it is impossible for the butler or the agent not to know about it. It does not make sense for the mansion to be this quiet when the family head has returned. It also did not make sense that he appeared out of a maze so suddenly.

That was not the only question.

“…A child?”

A small child was following behind Wayne Gray. What’s more, the child’s appearance was somehow familiar. Curly, bobbed hair and ears that were large for a child. Droopy-ended eyes situated below seagull-like eyebrows. They are not one of the talented children, so why on earth do they look so familiar?

“Where have I seen them….”

The moment a faint sense of incongruity brushed past his mind, something clicked into place in his head like a puzzle.

“Ah!”

Jeff immediately ran back into the room and rummaged through the drawer. He frantically dug through the contents and found a paper that was tucked under his educational materials. Unfolding the paper, which had been folded in half, he furrowed his brow slightly. The reason for the familiarity was there.

“That child is no vagrant. I am his guardian, so why would he be a vagrant…!”

The child the old man from Coley was desperately looking for. Why is that child with the family head at this hour?

Jeff gripped the missing person flyer and headed to the balcony. The child, having completely exited the maze, was holding the man’s hand and crossing the garden. But the direction they were heading was not the mansion. It was the forest that surrounded the mansion.

“No, what are they doing. Why are they going over there….”

A sigh escaped him inadvertently. Everything was incomprehensible. Why was the family head, who was supposed to be in the city, here, and why was the child, who was thought to be missing, with him? Perhaps, did he take him in thinking he was a vagrant? And the old man is wandering the streets, unaware of this fact? If so, why had he not checked the mansion? Anyone from Coley would know that the Gray family helps vagrants. Could it be that the old man was not from Coley?

If that’s the case, shouldn’t I tell them the truth? The fact that the child is not a vagrant. That there is a guardian desperately searching for the child outside the mansion. But then, a question suddenly arose. I wonder if the child doesn’t know. If the child also knows, and willingly followed him….

“……”

Jeff stared at the child in the missing person flyer. It was a very delicately drawn picture. A deep affection for the child could be felt in every single line. But something like this could easily be fabricated. Putting up a front is not as difficult as one might think.

If the child ran away because of abuse, and chose to stay here, would it be alright for me to arbitrarily reveal this fact? But in the end, all of this is just speculation. I cannot fully trust a child of an age where it is difficult to have discernment. The possibility of a simple runaway cannot be ignored either.

“…That aside.”

What Jeff could not understand the most right now was the reason the two of them were heading into the forest at this hour. What’s more, in a direction where there is no path. Unless they were mad, they would not be thinking of playing something like hide-and-seek in the forest at this dead of night.

“Damn it, what on earth at this hour….”

Jeff, letting out a sigh, massaged his temples. The deliberation was not long. Hurriedly grabbing a lantern, Jeff left the room. By the time he got outside the mansion, the family head and the child had already vanished. Only the entrance to the dark, sprawling forest cast a deep shadow, waiting for him.

Haa. Taking a determined breath, Jeff walked towards the forest they had headed into.

The forest at dawn, where even the moonlight was hidden, was gloomy.

Every time the wind brushed past and shook the leaves, a low, long-drawn-out sound could be heard from somewhere. It sounded like a child’s laughter brushing past the ears, and also like the forest itself was mumbling. The trees that covered all sides soared towards the sky, their ends unseen. The sharply extended branches swayed like a reaper’s scythe. As if preparing to sever a neck at any moment, they swayed with a quiet presence, cutting through the empty air.

The thick, heavy fog that had settled blurred the contours of the forest that stretched on without end, and the path, indistinguishable from front to back, repeated itself. I felt as if I was constantly walking but just circling the same spot.

“Damn it, I can’t see….”

Jeff raised the lantern to illuminate the path ahead. A faint light seeped into the fog as if being absorbed, then was quickly swallowed up. Faint footprints remained on the damp dirt path, and a subtle scent floated in the air that had passed between the branches. As if it would disappear, faint, yet once smelled, impossible to shake off,

“…a scent.”

Jeff suddenly stopped his steps and took a breath. The captivating lingering scent seeped deep into his lungs. Then, he felt the trail of the scent extending like a tail through the fog that had been obscuring his vision. His feet began to move forward again. The darkness extended the path and the fog blurred all boundaries, but he moved forward as if drawn by something.

How long had I walked like that? The scenery of the forest, which seemed like it would remain the same forever, gradually began to change. As if a curtain was being lifted, the fog thinned and moonlight permeated through various spots. Finally reaching the exit of the forest, Jeff stopped his steps.

He carefully lowered the lantern and quietly stared straight ahead.

“……”

There was a house there.

It was an annex of the mansion, hidden by the forest. The trail of the scent that had been his guide all along extended like a thread and headed towards it. Through the half-open stained-glass window, the sound of a child’s laughter could be heard.

“Ah….”

For some reason, all the strength drained from his body. The reason they had crossed the forest together must have been to head to the annex. It was still a mystery why they came out of the maze, but perhaps he had indulged the whims of a child who did not want to sleep because he wanted to play. Children of that age, with their great curiosity, like mazes.

“…Yes, there’s no way a person like that would do something strange.”

Jeff had been harboring a nasty suspicion. The terrible imagining that, contrary to his public image, he might be planning to harm the child in the forest. A hollow laugh escaped him. Why did he have to come out at this hour and make people suspicious?

It is suspicious that he did not announce his return to the mansion, but how could one dare to judge an individual’s personal circumstances? He must have had his reasons, is all I can think. Moreover, for Jeff, who had been thirsty from the indefinite wait, it was a relief. Now, he might be able to solve the mystery of the scent soon.

Since they emit a similar scent, he won’t be able to feign ignorance, right?

Jeff, laughing with a sense of relief, turned around. Perhaps because the tension had eased, he started to feel sleepy.

Thus, the dawn passed, and morning came. I was in the middle of a conversation about the talented children while having tea time with the agent. Jeff took a sip of the perfectly warmed tea and then casually opened his mouth.

“I would like to pay my respects to the family head.”

He had no intention of mentioning the events of the dawn in detail. He had intentionally cast a vague bait. Would the agent take it? Jeff, with a composed face, observed the other’s reaction. The agent, who was taking a bite of a biscuit, looked puzzled.

“Yes. Of course, you should. When he returns.”

“……”

It seemed they were indeed keeping the fact that the family head was at the mansion a secret. Jeff lightly lowered his eyebrows. That’s right. When he returns, he muttered, and the agent said with a peculiar expression.

“Come to think of it, Mr. Lowell, you seem to be waiting for the family head quite eagerly.”

“Was it that obvious? How embarrassing.”

Jeff laughed awkwardly and put down his teacup.

“To be honest, I’ve been a little curious for a while. I had often heard about him from Hugo at the university, so I suppose you could say I had built up a sort of fantasy in my mind.”

“A fantasy?”

“Yes, a fantasy. You know how it is. It’s amazing enough that he inherited <Vebreuk> at a young age, but to think he is a genius perfumer who surpasses all his ancestors…. To be honest, he seemed like a movie protagonist. Lacked a sense of reality, you could say.”

At those words, the agent let out a small laugh. It was an expression of understanding.

“That is true.”

“Then I received Hugo’s proposal, and while the conditions offered were excellent, of course, the thing I looked forward to the most was being able to meet the family head. But when I actually came to the mansion, he wasn’t here.”

Jeff took a short breath and added.

“He really is like a figure from a fantasy, I was thinking to myself, and then I saw his portrait.”

Jeff, turning his head slightly, gestured towards the doorway of the drawing-room. The agent, who had placed his teacup on his elegantly crossed thigh, raised the corners of his mouth.

“Aha, so you saw that portrait. It is a truly beautiful work, isn’t it? In fact, I sometimes find myself looking at it as if mesmerized.”

“Yes. It was. He was a very beautiful person.”

Indeed, the real person I saw from the balcony was more beautiful than the portrait. So much so that I could not take my eyes off him despite the distance. If I had seen him up close, would I not have lost my senses? Suddenly, the sensation of blue eyes brushing past him came to mind, and Jeff gently curled his fingertips.

“But why did you hang a painting? Isn’t it more common to hang photographs these days?”

At Jeff’s words, the agent put down his teacup and laughed lightly.

“Haha, that is certainly true. It’s natural to feel it is old-fashioned. However, if I may add a word cautiously as his agent, it is because it is the work of a talented individual. There is an excellent painter among the talented people Gray has sponsored. He made a request. That he absolutely wanted to try painting him. The result is as you see. The family head was also pleased with it and personally had it hung.”

“Ah… a talented individual. I see. I never thought it would be the work of a talented person. It goes without saying, but I suppose that talented person also lived here, right? When I think of talented people, only the current children come to mind, so it doesn’t quite feel real.”

The agent nodded his head.

“Of course. He, as well as all the other talented people, lived in this mansion.”

“I see. Do the vagrants the family helps also stay at the mansion?”

“No. Vagrants do not stay at the mansion. They are guided to external facilities.”

Vagrants don’t stay here? Then what about that child from this morning? Jeff, holding a question in his mind, added calmly, separate from his own inner thoughts.

“Ah, I thought you took in vagrants through the fortnight’s event, but I guess that wasn’t the case.”

“What do you mean by ‘took in’?”

“By providing them a place in the mansion as workers, or giving them educational opportunities like the talented children.”

At Jeff’s words, the agent let out a small chuckle. It was no different from a snort directed at a naive person.