Chapter Text
As usual, the moon shines on the street at midnight.
Beneath her feet lies the dull, almost indistinguishable stretch of road, the November fog thick and damp upon it.
Inside one house, hidden behind the window frame, a pair of hazy green eyes twist and turn, silently watching every single movement on the street.
Now, the unexpected "visitor" appears—like some kind of opportunity, like some kind of coincidence.
"I see you, my perfect little puppy."
For the first time, he wavers.
The eyes vanish abruptly behind the curtain.
Everything seems to return to its proper course. At least, for now, it is still peaceful.
"Hmm... I wonder what will happen? Who knows?"
---
Naegi Makoto was traveling through Europe.
Today was the fifth day of his trip.
According to his plan, he intended to take an evening train, departing from London and changing at Swindon along the way.
This was his first long trip alone, and Naegi was full of anticipation. After all, it wasn't every day he got the chance to come this far, to see new things, to face an unpredictable future. On the other hand, he also felt this was an excellent opportunity to learn how to take care of himself. This, of course, stemmed from the jokes his parents, his younger sister, and even his classmates would make about him—teasing his height, saying he "looked like a little middle schooler."
He knew perfectly well they meant no harm, nor were they questioning his abilities. It was just that, most of the time, he was still quite close with his family—he'd never boarded at school, never really been far from them for long. So Naegi was curious whether he could truly live independently someday.
Thus, he planned this trip as his first "practice."
He wanted to prove to his family that he was already a qualified "adult." And while he was at it, he'd properly relax.
Perhaps there was also a hint of unspoken dissatisfaction in there somewhere. Because of his height, he didn't much like others implying he was incapable or still looked like a kid. He wanted to use this experience to rebut those who underestimated him.
---
The setting sun pierced through the car window, casting a warm, pleasant glow. The orange-tinted hills stretched on without end, and smoke rose from distant villages. Gazing at the scenery, Naegi soon fell asleep.
When he opened his eyes, he had already arrived at Bath station. It was almost ten in the evening. As he dragged his suitcase away from the station, he could see the moon rising from the sky opposite the entrance, its light spilling across a clear, starry firmament. The countryside sky was utterly unpolluted; it was the first time he had seen the night so vividly.
The train had been nearly an hour late, and because of that, Naegi hadn't managed to book a proper hotel.
To save face in front of his family and pretend nothing was wrong, he lied to his younger sister during their video call. He claimed he was just out for a walk after a heavy dinner, which was why he was wandering the suburbs late at night. "Fortunately," his sister Komaru seemed to believe him.
In any case, Naegi urgently needed a place to stay. It was freezing here, and the wind slicing across his cheeks was as sharp as a blade.
Unfortunately, his phone battery died within minutes of ending the call. Unlike the bustling London he'd visited earlier, there were hardly any shops or places here where he could charge his phone. Going back to the station now was out of the question… This made finding accommodation even more troublesome.
Naegi sighed in resignation and ran a hand through his bangs. In the end, he'd have to think of another way.
The moonlight flickered along the street. Another gust of cold wind made him shiver. Autumn leaves, swept up by the chill, tumbled past the boy as he hunched his neck and flipped open the travel guide he'd picked up at the station. It contained a map of the surrounding area, along with a free newspaper from a month or two ago.
Hmm… Maybe I should go this way… No, that's a right turn…
---
"Hey, buddy, what are you looking for?"
Startled by the sudden voice, Naegi lifted his head. A motorcycle had stopped in front of him. A man in a black jacket and gray helmet sat astride it.
"Oh! Uh… maybe a hotel?" Naegi replied in English.
"You traveling?" the man continued.
"Yeah."
"So you got a place planned?"
"Well… no." Naegi searched for the right words, tilting his head in frustration. "Sir, do you know any affordable hotels nearby? Closer would be better."
"Try the Bell and Dragon. They might still be open."
"Got it. Thanks a lot, sir. Could you tell me how to get to… uh, what was it called again?"
"Bell and Dragon. Straight this way, a few miles down on the other side. I can give you a lift if you want." He revved the engine, a sound that clearly signaled, I'm ready to floor it.
Naegi folded the map and tucked it into his bag. "Oh, thank you! But I think I can walk. I don't want to trouble you. Thanks!" Naegi replied politely.
"Wow, dude, you don't gotta say 'thanks' that many times. Alright, it's getting late—you'd better hurry." The motorcyclist adjusted his helmet. "This area ain't too safe. Some people went missing around here a while back. Watch yourself!"
Naegi froze for a moment, and then the motorcyclist was already roaring off into the distance.
"Thanks again!" Naegi shouted toward the vanishing bike. He wasn't sure if the kind stranger had heard him…
---
Naegi continued pushing his suitcase in the direction the motorcyclist had pointed. He took out his map again and marked the path he'd taken. This street was lined with buildings that all looked identical—perhaps… this was why he'd gotten lost?
As mentioned before, there were no open shops or restaurants along this wide street. On the road he traveled, he saw only those tall houses, and they truly all looked the same! Each had a porch, pillars, and four or five steps leading up to the front door—clearly once the residences of wealthy people. But now, even in the pitch black of night, he could see peeling paint on the doorframes, and some of those handsome white doors had begun to crack. The houses seemed neglected, some perhaps even abandoned, with a certain air of decline.
Suddenly, something caught Naegi's eye.
About six yards away, there was a notice. It was clearly visible because it happened to be illuminated by a streetlamp.
It read: BED AND BREAKFAST.
The sign was propped against the lower pane of a window. Beneath it sat an exquisite vase, brimming with fresh daisies. Naegi moved closer. Those daisies were like the perfect ornament, adorning the green velvet curtains hanging behind the glass, forming an exquisitely delicate little scene. He stepped onto the porch and peered through the window into the room:
The first thing that caught his attention was the bright, warm fireplace. On the rug beside it, a pretty little dog lay fast asleep, curled into a ball, warming itself by the flames. In the dim light, he also spotted some elegant furniture: a wooden piano, a large sofa, and several plush armchairs, all of which seemed to have been "carefully selected." Then, looking more closely, in the corner of the room, he saw a large cage containing a vibrantly colored parrot.
What a wonderful place! Naegi thought. At the same time, a new idea occurred to him. Although the "Bell and Dragon" sounded nice enough, he couldn't help imagining himself warming himself by this cozy hearth—how happily he would smile! I mean, just look! What a lovely place this is.
And so Naegi began to waver. Where should he stay? A warm, homely guesthouse, or a dubious little inn he knew nothing about?
The cold wind had been howling for almost two minutes, and still he hadn't decided.
Maybe… before making up his mind, he ought to at least go check out the Bell and Dragon? He didn't even know what that place was like, and he didn't want to waste the kind stranger's suggestion. He turned to leave.
---
But how strange.
Just as Naegi was about to step back from the window and descend the steps, that sign caught his attention once more.
BED AND BREAKFAST, it read.
Yes, it said: BED AND BREAKFAST.
BED AND BREAKFAST, BED AND BREAKFAST, BED AND BREAKFAST, BED AND BREAKFAST…
It was as if every single letter were a large, black eye, pressing out through the glass, ceaselessly fixed on Naegi, drawing him in, tempting him, rooting him to the spot—as though he couldn't escape this house.
And even stranger, as if guided by some unseen hand, he found himself walking involuntarily toward the front door. He climbed the remaining steps, stood before the entrance, and then, as if compelled, reached for the doorbell.
Alright, fine—I really do want to stay here! Naegi thought ruefully. He felt ashamed for abandoning the kind stranger's suggestion so easily, but at the same time, he couldn't stop himself from pressing the bell.
Almost the instant he heard the chime echo from somewhere deep inside the house—almost at that very moment—his finger hadn't even left the button—the door creaked open.
A slender man stood there.
Wait… what?
Normally, when you ring a doorbell, you'd expect to wait at least half a minute for the door to open, right? But this man was like a jack-in-the-box—as soon as he pressed the bell, he popped right out! Naegi couldn't help but be startled. A puff of white mist escaped his lips into the cold air.
"Please, come in!" The man smiled pleasantly and brightly in the faint light. After stepping aside to fully open the door, he extended his hand into the interior, inviting Naegi inside.
And Naegi found himself walking in, as if by instinct—or perhaps desire? This inexplicably strong longing to enter the house—yes, an extremely strong longing.
Maybe it was because of the cold, right? Right? Or perhaps it was the beautifully arranged living room? I'm pretty sure that's it, yes—the decor! It's so pretty and cozy here, isn't it?
Even Naegi himself found this reasoning unconvincing.
---
"I saw the notice in the window," Naegi said while admiring the decorative paintings along the hallway.
"Yes, I know." The tall man tilted his head slightly backward, responding to Naegi's words. He seemed to be maintaining that charming smile.
"You must be a weary traveler, looking for a place to stay," he continued.
"I need a room."
"All ready for you, darling," the man said proudly.
"Wow."
"Hm? You look puzzled. There's nothing wrong with preparing everything in advance! It's all for my GUESTS, wouldn't you say?"
Naegi's attention was once again drawn to the classic wall lamps behind him—he'd never seen anything like them. Through the yellow glass, he could see actual candles burning. He wasn't really paying close attention to what the other man was saying, and of course, he didn't catch the eerie expression that flickered across his face for an instant.
Regardless, the man's gentle smile returned. "Anyway, what you need is a place to sit and rest."
When Naegi heard the last word, he was startled by the landlord suddenly closing in—he almost completely filled Naegi's field of vision. Naegi could see his long, delicate eyelashes fluttering, and behind them, a strange light reflected in his jade-green pupils.
"AAAAAAHHHH!" He couldn't help but cry out.
"Am I right?"
"Ah! Uh… yeah." Naegi stepped back half a pace. "Sorry… I mean, yes? Uh, yes! You're right, I do need rest. I was on my way to check out the Bell and Dragon, but then that sign just suddenly appeared in front of me…"
Naegi tried to escape the other man's gaze, but those sharp, penetrating eyes didn't seem ready to let him off just yet. How awkward…
Faced with Naegi's flustered reaction, the man's smile grew even more indulgent.
"Dear little one, why didn't you come in sooner?" He straightened up, stepped back half a pace, and looked down at Naegi. "I'm so glad you're here… I suppose you finally decided to stay HERE, didn't you?"
He didn't seem inclined to look away.
After a moment of silence, Naegi hesitated, trying to figure out how to voice his thoughts.
After some mental preparation, he said, "Thank you. I'll think about it… But before I make up my mind, could you please stop calling me 'little one' and such? It's honestly… kind of embarrassing."
He stood on his tiptoes slightly, trying not to seem quite so small in front of this tall man.
"Oh."
"…"
"Alright, dear."
"Please stop staring at me, sir."
"Oh…"
---
The landlord froze. In that instant, Naegi watched as his face seemed to subtly sink into shadow, his eyes narrowing.
And just when Naegi began to feel a bit tense, those traces of displeasure vanished from the landlord's face, replaced by a certain melancholy.
"Alright. Anything else?"
"Uh… what?"
"Any other complaints? Tell me."
"Complaints?"
"Was there anything else I did that made you uncomfortable?"
"Uh…" Naegi figured that pretending nothing was wrong would only lead to bigger problems later.
"Well… what did you call me just now? 'Darling'? Uh… I don't really like that… I mean, I'm not used to it."
"Mm… I see."
"Uh, sorry…"
"You certainly don't need to apologize. You're right. Perhaps I've developed some rather appalling verbal tics without realizing it? Come to think of it—yes! 'Why would someone be so familiar with a stranger? Does he have ulterior motives?' That's what you're thinking, isn't it? I didn't guess wrong, did I? But I just want to say—I didn't do it on purpose… Maybe I've just gotten too used to talking to myself? I knew I'd mess everything up…"
Huh? What's he saying?
But indeed, he was now talking to himself, and during this entire monologue, he hadn't looked at Naegi even once. He murmured like a sleepwalker, and Naegi might as well have been a phantom in his dream, or the air itself—as if he didn't exist.
Although… that didn't seem quite right either. It was more like he was simply avoiding Naegi's gaze. Maybe…
"That's not what I meant. I'm sorry, I was trying to say—"
"You can leave whenever you like! Oh… You shouldn't stay in a place run by a piece of trash like me! I'm a failure, I get it. Oh, dear…" His voice rose inexplicably, his tone tinged with dejection and a trace of regret. When he finished his muttering, he had already turned, as if in a trance, toward the interior of the house, leaving Naegi standing alone in the hallway by the entrance.
Now this was the real awkward part. What just happened? What was he talking about?
Naegi was baffled. Should he leave?
All he knew was that the man genuinely sounded upset, and Naegi had no idea what he'd done wrong. Had he said something out of line? Was this some British custom he didn't know about? A cultural difference?
If that was the case… he shouldn't hurt someone's feelings, right?
That gentleman… he really looked unhappy. His long, drooping eyelashes lingered in Naegi's mind. His melancholic face made Naegi's chest itch in a strange, uncomfortable way…
Alright, fine. If this was a sales trap—lure him in and force him to stay—then so be it, that was just his bad luck. Even if this was merely a ploy for sympathy, an outright lie, Naegi still didn't want to let anyone down. At the very least, Naegi didn't want to keep being troubled by that man's melancholy expression—meaning, he intended to stay here and see how things went.
Just in case, he still had to ask him some more questions, anyway.
He trotted through the corridor and into the living room. The man was right there, sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, his drifting silver hair taking on warm tones in the firelight. His slightly bowed head snapped up at the sound of Naegi's footsteps.
"…"
"…"
"Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?"
"Well, you see, it's because I want to stay here, so I came in."
"Mhm?"
"So… how much is it for one night?"
Naegi saw one of his eyebrows lift slightly.
"If you truly wish to stay… five and sixpence a night," he said.
Wha… t?
"Five and six? Five and six a night?"
"Including breakfast! If you find that too steep, perhaps I could give you a small discount. Would you like an egg with your breakfast? Eggs are rather expensive these days." He raised his right index finger, traced something in the air, thought for a moment, and continued, "If you'd rather not, I could do it for five even. Just five pounds."
"Five and six is fine! Really." Naegi almost couldn't help shouting. "Okay, I think I'll stay here! I'm satisfied with it. Is that alright?"
The landlord seemed almost amused by Naegi's excited outburst, his smile widening.
"Why would I say no? I knew you'd stay, dear. Please, come in!" he said.
---
"Just hang it there," he said, pointing at the coat rack nearby, "and let me help you with your coat." As he spoke, he drew closer to Naegi and attempted to remove his coat.
"No, no—I can do it myself! Uh, don't worry about me." Naegi gently pushed him away.
For some reason, Naegi felt wary of his hands—they were long, slender, almost bony. Not so much frightening as perhaps… "elegant" or some other complimentary word might describe them. They were actually quite beautiful! Yet for some unknown reason, Naegi found them… dangerous.
He kept imagining those hands reaching for him. It made him uneasy.
He took off his coat and noticed there were no other coats or hats on the rack. Apart from a dusty dark green umbrella.
"Alright, never mind. Good boy."
"…"
"Let me take you to your room." He took Naegi's suitcase without waiting for an answer, nudged him toward the stairs, his eyes glittering.
How strange. Though it might be impolite to say, Naegi thought this man was a bit neurotic at times.
But he really couldn't think of any other place willing to offer such a good room for only five and sixpence, so… maybe he could get past this.
Also, this seemed to be the first time Naegi had entered a home with its own spiral staircase.
"The entire building belongs to me," he said enthusiastically, waving his free arm. "I inherited it from my parents. Unfortunately, they passed away young—but even though I don't often have the pleasure of welcoming guests into my little nest, I keep it well maintained. Rest assured, it's quite comfortable! This is lovely."
Lovely, huh. What a shame the place was so remote. Otherwise, Naegi thought it would be swarming with guests. No wonder he only charged him such a low rate!
"Have you ever thought about advertising or something? I feel like this place should be packed with customers."
"Oh, I have, my dear, I know, of course I realize that. But it may be my own issue—I'm not particularly fond of very noisy environments. When I imagine this place becoming somewhat… 'lively'… I become—well, sometimes—a tiny bit picky and particular. I'm not willing to accommodate 'everyone' who passes by. So I choose some who are better—uh, more in need—and let them in."
"More in need?"
"Like those who are exhausted? In a hurry? Or perhaps… those who are just a little unlucky and forgot to book another hotel? Mm… I think I'd like to serve those people. Perhaps. I'm always ready, you know? Day and night, I make sure this place can, at any moment, become a suitable spot for… accommodation. Until I meet someone truly suited for these rooms, I invite them in."
"Wow."
The landlord's right hand rested on the smooth stair railing. He turned his head and smiled at Naegi. His lips were a little pale.
"It's such an honor to meet someone who happens to need me, standing right behind that ringing doorbell. And when I open the door, there he is—perfect, without flaw."
His pale green eyes swept slowly from Naegi's chest down to his feet, then coiled back up to rest on his chin.
"Do you think this is fate? Or mere luck?"
"Huh?"
"A person… like you," he said, staring at Naegi, descending one step, leaving the suitcase behind, lowering his right hand from the railing.
"M-Me?"
"Yes." He approached slowly. "You."
The tall man's shadow fell over Naegi, blocking even the faintest trace of candlelight.
His face was gaunt yet handsome: a high nose bridge, slightly prominent cheekbones and faintly sunken eye sockets, his features gentle and his skin startlingly pale—was he mixed-race? Beneath the firelight, he looked haggard; yet behind his long, slender eyebrows, behind those dazzling eyelashes, his keen, vivid pupils blazed with an indescribable obsession and fixation.
W-When did he get so close?
His breath filtered through his ear without missing a beat. By the time Naegi realized it, the man was nearly pressed against him, coiling around him like a python stalking its prey in the jungle, his long, curved fingers about to fall upon his cheek—the feeling was awful, an icy cold dread dousing him like a bucket of freezing water, fear shooting straight from his spine to his brain, like an endless spiral staircase plummeting down, some primal instinct screaming within him.
Naegi couldn't take it anymore.
Naegi steadied himself, then shouted at him in agitation, "Get—get away from me! What's wrong with you?" He shoved the man hard. The man stumbled back in shock, falling onto the step behind him.
"I-I'm leaving!" Naegi made up his mind. He jumped down several steps, stumbled, and fled through the living room into the long corridor leading to the entrance.
This was it—this was the source of his inexplicable sense of crisis. It had to be. But—
He heard a cry from behind him. "Wait! You shouldn't—"
He didn't care. No matter how cheap or comfortable this place might be, Naegi didn't want to stay another second. He raced toward the exit.
He grabbed the doorknob and yanked it open. The door swung wide.
And then, the thing that made him despair: outside, as luck would have it, it was pouring. A downpour.
Naegi stood at the threshold, silent beneath the eaves.
Damn it.
---
"I was just about to tell you that," came the calm voice from behind the door, from the far end of the corridor.
He was there. Right there.
Raindrops drifted onto his face, cool and damp.
"Sorry." The voice continued from the other end. "I think there must be some misunderstanding between us… But why?"
Naegi turned his head stiffly, his neck creaking like a rusted gear.
He saw the landlord standing at the far end of the hallway. Under the dim light, his face looked even paler and wearier than before, faintly marked by a mixture of confusion and grievance.
They stood there staring at each other for a few seconds. Looking at Naegi frozen in place, the landlord let out a shallow sigh. "If you're set on leaving here, I suggest you put on a raincoat. Or take an umbrella."
He turned and glanced toward the living room, his eyes landing briefly in the direction of the coat rack. A hint of surprise crossed his face. "Ah, so I did leave an umbrella there. Huh. Never noticed it before… Oh, right—don't forget your coat, dear. In your haste to run off, you left your coat behind. I can bring it to you."
Before Naegi could scream at him to stay away, he had already turned and walked toward the living room. Seconds later, he returned, the dark green umbrella in hand.
The landlord strode calmly toward Naegi, but his manner was that of an old friend seeing off a long-time acquaintance, his furrowed brow concealing a reluctance to let go.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be at all!
---
"Take these. Be careful. Leave whenever you wish…" His murmur was flat, devoid of intonation.
He stopped before Naegi. Naegi's face was ashen.
The landlord raised both arms and held out the items to Naegi, who had stepped back half a pace. He deliberately tried to keep his distance.
Naegi didn't take the coat directly. The landlord just stood there, holding it out. As Naegi hesitated at the door, trying to figure out how to take it without touching his hand, a sudden gust of wind howled past. Something flew into Naegi's face—some kind of insect. He flinched, turning away from the wind, shaking his head to dislodge it. He stumbled, about to fall backward off the steps.
"Careful!" The landlord rushed forward and caught him. The slippery ground made balance difficult. Struggling to stay upright without sending Naegi tumbling down the stairs, he dropped everything in his hands and pulled Naegi back inside.
"Ah!" Both of them cried out, each for their own reason.
Naegi had fallen into his arms. Thankfully, it didn't hurt. He blinked, pushed himself up off the landlord, and saw the man looking past him toward the steps.
"Oh no, no, no—"
He quickly got up from under Naegi, hurried down a few steps, and, while Naegi sat there dazed, picked up his coat: it was soaked through.
"I—I can't let you go out in this god-awful weather without a proper coat!" he shouted, heedless of the rain lashing down on him, waving Naegi's coat in his hand. "No, you need a good coat! But… if you don't mind, would you take mine?"
Naegi was stunned. "I…"
"Please! You know? I can't bear it anymore. You're too unfortunate to have met a lunatic like me! Wait here—I'll get you a brand-new coat—"
"Wait a minute! It's just… a little wet, isn't it?" Naegi stood up and walked toward the landlord, then stopped warily. "What are you trying to do?!" Faced with the landlord's nearly hysterical reaction, Naegi was filled with confusion amid his rising panic.
"I can't let you leave all wet—who knows if you'll catch a cold or a fever… This weather, it's utterly unfortunate!" He took a big step toward Naegi, then, as if struck by a thought, pulled his foot back mid-step. "What am I supposed to do with you—" His voice seemed to crack through the storm.
"Calm down, calm down!" Naegi tried to stop him. "Why are you panicking like this? It's just water! Raindrops! Are you okay?"
"Yes, fine!" He was breathing heavily. He closed his eyes and tilted his face upward. After a few seconds of being drenched in the rain, he took a deep, deliberate breath. After that, he walked back under the eaves. The composed air that had impressed Naegi earlier returned.
"I'm listening. I'm listening," he said softly, running a hand through his wet bangs.
"Then, calm down first. Can we talk properly?"
"Yes… You're right. Absolutely right." Seeming to remember something, he dazedly stepped back into the rain, picked up the umbrella, and said, "You don't like this. That's fine."
"I—I just mean—I'm trying to say…"
His mind went blank. He couldn't think of a single coherent sentence. Naegi's thoughts were nothing but question marks.
The landlord walked back from the rain, stopping in front of Naegi.
"Sorry," he said, shaking the raindrops off the tip of the umbrella.
"Uh, well…" Naegi finally muttered a few words. "Well, fine. Then, if I take your umbrella… do I have to return it later? And your coat—if you insist I take your coat."
He lowered his head, trying not to look at the other man.
"If it can compensate even a little for your unpleasant experience, keep them by all means. It's nothing. Dear, take my coat."
"Uh, no."
"Then at least take the umbrella. Please. I'm begging you."
"God, why are you saying it like that? You're being way too 'nice' to me. Strictly speaking, I'm not even your guest anymore!"
Naegi didn't understand.
"I shoved you, I yelled at you—why are you still trying to win me over like this? I… I don't get it."
"You don't understand. That's fine. I'm always ready to serve. To devote myself to those in need. It's part of my professional ethics, or maybe a personal belief? It just so happens that I still think you need my help. That's all…"
What a… unique person, Naegi thought.
"Personal belief?"
"'To give of oneself to others, to sacrifice for the worthy.' It's nothing grand."
It sounded like a heavy burden. Naegi felt a little tense. But why? Was he just too tired?
"Maybe… I'm just a little on edge… I'm too tired…?" Naegi muttered, one hand on his forehead.
"I think so. You need rest. To me, that's obvious."
"Ah, you heard that? Sorry…"
"Why apologize?"
He didn't know. He didn't know. The word had just slipped out.
After a moment of silence, the landlord turned his handsome face away and spoke first. "Well, before you go, I have to tell you one thing. That's all I have to say to you: it's cold out. There's no way you won't catch a cold if you travel in this rain."
Why was this man so… sensitive? How strange. How could he put it… His concern seemed rooted in some very odd set of values, and he seemed to lack certain social skills in understanding others. That was kind of pathetic to think about… Naegi didn't want to say it out loud and hurt him.
From a strange angle, he just seemed fragile and harmless. He was only worried about Naegi, right?
"Fine. I'll stay." He said it word by word, his tone reluctant.
The landlord didn't show that soft smile again. Instead, his long, narrow eyes narrowed into slits.
"You're hard to understand," he said.
"What?"
"After what happened, you still want to stay. Your behavior is very strange."
"Who started acting strange first?"
"Alright. You're right." He began to look into the distance.
For some reason, Naegi felt the landlord wasn't really listening.
"Life is always full of all kinds of chance encounters. And those possibilities are then divided into 'luck' and 'misfortune.' But, how unlucky—Lady Luck always stays by my side… In any case, it seems I haven't lost that opportunity yet." The landlord muttered to himself again.
"Did you just say something? That's creepy."
The landlord turned his head back toward Naegi—that smile, which had left such an impression on him, reappeared under these strange circumstances.
"An apology, of course! I'm thinking how to make it up to you. First, let me take you back to your room, shall we? Don't forget your suitcase this time."
Oh. Uh.
When he tried to flee earlier, Naegi hadn't even thought about his suitcase.
---
They climbed the stairs again, keeping some distance between them.
A faint, clean fragrance lingered throughout the house—like perfume, or dried flowers.
"This floor is mine, anyway." When they reached the second floor, the landlord pointed to a room with no particular scent. When they reached the next floor, he navigated Naegi to another single room, this one thick with the fragrance of flowers.
"And this one is all yours! Your room." He opened the door for Naegi, and the scent of blossoms rushed out to greet them. He turned on the light, his cheerful tone as if nothing had happened. "I truly hope you like it here!"
It was a cozy little room, simple but carefully arranged. For instance, the scent in the air—once you got used to it, it became quite pleasant.
He carefully handed Naegi his suitcase. "Your luggage, uh… Mr. Mogi?"
"No… It's Naegi."
"Mr. Naegi! How lovely. What a coincidence. You're Japanese—same as my mother. No wonder you've been giving me such a sense of familiarity. Your accent, so nostalgic… I should have noticed earlier."
"Your mother is Japanese, too?" Naegi studied him again a few times. Indeed, though he was very pale, he could still see hints of Asian features in his face.
"Yes! Though I'm not very sure about my father's nationality… They both passed away when I was little. I was probably only… five or six? Actually, I can't even remember what they looked like! But that accent—I could never forget it… Anyway, that's not important! Let me show you around the room, dear 'Mr. Naegi-kun'?"
"Just Naegi is fine."
He waved his arms dramatically, proudly and carefully introducing the room's layout.
"Look at this French window! Every morning, the bright morning sun arrives right here at this perfect spot. One of my best ideas! Also, I've already warmed the sheets with a hot water bottle. Isn't that comfortable? Sleeping in clean, warm bedding—don't you think so? Look here! You can light the fire anytime you feel cold or anything. And of course, if you have any other questions, please tell me—I'll be happy to help, okay?"
Oh my god, to be honest, he really did have a knack for hospitality. Even though he was as eager as a good friend's mom, enthusiastically inviting you over for the holidays, which was always a little awkward…
But maybe it wasn't so bad. Possibly.
"Ah… thank you. Really, thank you. You've gone to so much trouble."
"Not at all! I'm so glad you decided to come back after all. Have you forgiven me? I was starting to get a little worried…"
"Uh, maybe. I think it's fine now. You don't need to worry about me. Really, you don't need to be so concerned about every little thing… I can take care of myself."
He saw the landlord frown slightly. Then he smiled again. "I'll take that as forgiveness. What would you like for supper, my dear? Did you eat anything before you came?"
"I'm not very hungry, thank you."
"How about a small slice of pie? I have some left over from earlier. I promise it tastes good. No poison." He joked in a cheerful tone.
"What? No, thank you. I don't have much appetite."
"…"
He was still standing in the doorway, staring. Occasionally, there was the sound of dripping water hitting the floor. Naegi was starting to show signs of impatience.
"I'd like to go to bed now," Naegi said, gripping the doorframe and glancing back at his bed. "You see, it's already midnight, and I need to get up early tomorrow."
Right. The sooner I leave this place, the better.
"Why are you in such a hurry?"
"Huh? What hurry?"
"Won't you stay a little longer?"
"No, I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm just staying here for one night."
"Where are you going? Why are you in such a rush to leave?"
"That's my personal business, isn't it? I just want a place to sleep—can you leave now?"
"…"
"At least go get changed, okay? You're still wet, you know?" Naegi looked at his shirt, soaked from the heavy rain. The places where it clung to his body faintly revealed the contours beneath.
"Alright." He noticed Naegi's gaze, glanced down at himself, and then withdrew his smile, his face expressionless. "Well… you get settled, dear. I'll go change now."
Then he left.
Naegi couldn't wait to be alone. He closed the door, collapsed onto the bed with a heavy sigh, and buried his face in the pillow.
But only seconds later, there was another knock at the door.
"Sorry to bother you! But before you go to sleep, could you please stop by the living room and sign the register? It's the rule here, and I don't want to break it… You understand, right?" His landlord's voice came from behind the door.
Like an endless torment… Naegi sighed wearily again.
"Promise me you won't bother me anymore after I sign it," he called toward the door.
"I promise I won't bother you anymore after you sign it. Does that make you feel better, dear?"
"Stop calling me…"
He felt the words catch in his throat.
"Anyway… whatever! I'll come later!"
He thought he needed more time to mentally prepare himself before seeing him again.
"I'll be waiting."
When the landlord's final words faded away and the footsteps outside the door gradually receded, silence returned. Naegi wearily buried his head into the pillow.
---
Finally, Naegi had some time to himself.
Lying in bed, he couldn't stop thinking:
What kind of life shapes a person into someone like this?
His imagination began to wander.
The scent of fresh daisies lingered on the pillow and between the sheets—the same fragrance he'd noticed earlier. He grew accustomed to it quickly.
The man had said he lost his parents in childhood, so he must have inherited this house at a very young age. An orphan… How did he grow up? Were there relatives to look after him?
Naegi conjured an unknown, heartwarming scene in his mind: a beaming child, holding hands with an adult beside him, their surroundings abstract and vividly colored—it didn't look real. It looked like a fairy tale.
But in an instant, the vision shattered and dispersed. The boy's face and the other person's became indistinct, everything sucked into a swirling mass of shifting colors. At last, only blankness remained. And then, again, endless darkness.
Is this reality?
Naegi didn't like it.
A few minutes later, he unpacked his suitcase, left his phone charging in the room, and went to the bathroom to wash his hot, sweaty hands.
He stared at himself in the mirror, looking into his own eyes on the other side, deep in thought. There was something on his mind, but he couldn't put it into words.
He was tired, Naegi thought.
He left the room, trotted lightly down the stairs, and headed straight for the living room to sign the register.
His landlord wasn't there. But the fire in the hearth was still burning warmly, embers crackling softly. The little dog he'd seen through the window was still asleep in its usual spot.
He had already mentally prepared himself. It seemed he had reached some kind of understanding.
Naegi began to feel a certain sympathy for this lonely landlord. Perhaps he had lived through some unfortunate, regrettable chapter of life, which had ultimately shaped him into the "peculiar" person he was today. He begged Naegi to leave whenever he pleased; he tried his best, took pride in his accomplishments, yet seemed to despise himself deeply… He appeared to be constantly "giving," expecting nothing in return. He had even stated his bizarre "personal belief" plainly. But… did that make sense?
His motives, his behavior—there was still much to question. Naegi's heart was unsettled, but he was trying to make peace with it.
Maybe he was just doing what he was good at, or what he could manage? He ran a small inn here, kept everything in perfect order, and warmly welcomed his guests… When put that way, he seemed… quite harmless, didn't he? What kind of villain would waste their time and energy on something like this? So… maybe he was just an eccentric "good person," right?
If only he could better manage his way of interacting with others, keeping a proper distance, he might improve. Perhaps it wasn't his fault. Perhaps he'd had a lonely childhood. Naegi imagined what he himself might have become without the care and guidance of his parents. Could such a lack of love in one's formative years yield such a result? Perhaps. Or perhaps not.
"Always ready to serve others"… Hmm. Not the words of a cold-hearted man, certainly. But neither did they sound like the declaration of someone raised under ordinary circumstances. He'd heard similar sentiments before—from philanthropists, volunteers, people who took joy in serving others. But his landlord seemed different. He said he was picky, that he served only the "worthy." What kind of reasoning was that?
What kind of life, then…
---
At this point, Naegi realized he had been, inside his head, tirelessly defending his landlord. Why? Was it his natural tendency to be a nice guy…?
He recalled again the gaze his landlord had fixed upon him. The emotions within it were actually quite rich: agitation, delight, satisfaction—but also coldness, indifference, disappointment. His interaction with this gentleman had only been a brief ten-plus minutes, yet he felt he couldn't forget those beautiful, long-lashed eyes.
He rubbed his own eyes.
Oh, right.
He, too, had green eyes, just like his landlord.
Come to think of it, the eyes he couldn't forget were, in fact, somewhat similar to the ones he'd just been staring at in the bathroom mirror. Especially that shade of green—almost… exactly the same.
Huh. What a coincidence.
But their temperaments were completely different. They weren't the same type of person at all.
It was just a similarity in eye color. It didn't mean anything. In the end, they'd still be strangers, linked only by some curious twist of chance.
He'd probably record this brief encounter in his travel journal, after all—peace only barely restored after so many twists and turns. Perhaps one day in the future, he'd dig out these travel anecdotes, reminisce, tell his friends, laugh wryly, and then forget them again…
Yet somehow, he felt that "this moment" would linger far longer than he anticipated.
---
He still hadn't returned.
How strange. Changing clothes shouldn't take this long, right?
Even though his phone wasn't nearby, he guessed at least half an hour had passed since the earlier upheaval. Naegi had imagined the landlord would be waiting for him anxiously on the sofa, fidgeting nervously.
Even if the landlord himself was a bit… off, at least he had good taste! Hmm… His fashion sense wasn't bad, and he actually had the kind of face that would be surrounded by girls in school.
But most importantly… what a comfortable place! Warm and cozy… Maybe I'm a little lucky after all? Ending up in a place this nice at such a good price.
He rubbed his hands together and warmed himself by the fire—just as he'd imagined, a bright smile on his face. He spotted his coat drying nearby. What else could possibly ruin this?
Since the landlord still hadn't appeared, he took a turn around the living room on his own.
He spotted the guest book lying open on the piano, a pen beside it.
He flipped to the page with the most recent entries and wrote his name and address in the same format as the previous guests.
Prompted by curiosity, he took a peek at the other names. To his surprise, aside from his own, only two other recent entries were legible. The rest of the book had either been torn out—ragged edges left behind—or was so old, or had been stained by some liquid, that the handwriting was completely blurred beyond recognition. A few pages bore hasty scratches, but Naegi didn't think they were worth noting.
One was a Christopher Mulholland, seemingly from Cardiff. The other was… hmm, Gregory W. Temple, from Bristol.
Huh? That's weird… Something seemed to flash through Naegi's mind.
Where had he seen these names before?
He cast another doubtful glance into the book:
---
Christopher Mulholland
231 Cathedral Road, Cardiff
Gregory W. Temple
27 Sycamore Drive, Bristol
---
That really is strange! I've definitely seen these names somewhere, but… where? Why?
Naegi began to ponder this oddity. He looked over the names again and again. If it were just one name, he could hardly say it rang a bell. But once the two were placed together… it was as if they resonated, transforming into some kind of symbol.
"Gr-Gregory…?" He couldn't help murmuring aloud, trying to dredge up some related memory. "Christopher… Mulholland. Fascinating names…"
"Talented people," came a reply from behind him, completely unexpected. Naegi flinched hard, spinning around. Finally, his long-absent landlord had reappeared. He had changed clothes—something like a white shirt in a medieval style, his wavy silver hair resting casually against his collar. Compared to his previous outfit, this one had more ornate lace cuffs.
The landlord swept gracefully into the room from the other side. He carried a silver tea tray—upon which sat an exquisite ceramic teapot and teacups—held high against his chest, appearing especially solicitous.
"Their names feel… strangely familiar," Naegi murmured.
"Do they? Good." Setting the tray down on the tea table, the landlord came closer and joined Naegi in flipping through the register. A scent similar to daisies clung to him as well, yet not quite the same—many other notes mingled in…
Naegi didn't pay the smell much mind. "I'll bet I've heard those names somewhere before!" he said. "Don't you think it's strange? Hmm… news? Or in the newspapers?" A flash of inspiration—he remembered the newspaper he'd used as a map, now in his bag upstairs. "Are they some kind of famous people? I feel like I've seen these names in the papers—like soccer stars, or actors, or politicians, something like that. Do you know them?"
"Famous?" the landlord echoed Naegi's words softly. At the same time, he drifted away from Naegi, returning to the tea table where he'd placed the silver tray. He sat on the longest sofa, lifted the teapot, and poured tea into a cup. "I don't think so. They were just ordinary people—though I'm certain they were very talented, both of them." He sprinkled something resembling cinnamon into the cup.
"Then again, you might be right. Perhaps they were indeed 'talented' enough to make the papers. And… they were both handsome, refined young men, my dear—just like you. Though you are more unique."
"Stop." Naegi turned his head away and unintentionally glanced at the notebook again.
"Please don't misunderstand—I'm complimenting you."
Naegi pretended not to hear, continuing to study the signature book.
"Um… They both came here two years ago." He noticed the dates—the year was already two years past.
"Is that so?"
"Yes. This… Mr. Chris… he's almost been here three years. He came in the spring the year before last."
"Good heavens. I hadn't noticed." The landlord sighed faintly, gently shaking his head. "How time flies! Nearly three years gone… and it still feels like just a few days ago. I've simply forgotten… exactly how long was it? Three years? I can hardly believe it. My memory is terrible… But time is always so strange. Sometimes it feels so long, and other times it passes in the blink of an eye—don't you think so, Mr. Mogi?"
"That sounds like a girl's name! It's Makoto Naegi. Ma-ko-to!"
"Oh! Yes, yes, of course… you're absolutely right…"
He cried out, paced restlessly for two steps, then sat down on an armchair nearby, awkwardly brushing the fallen hair from his forehead. "How stupid of me. Sorry! Someone like me… in one ear and out the other… utterly useless, aren't I, Mr. Naegi?"
…None of my business. Naegi continued pretending not to hear anything. He pressed on with his previous line of inquiry:
"So, you're the landlord here. You should know something—some connection, some possibility, some little-known fact…"
"Uh, my dear. I don't follow." He placed his hands on his crossed knees.
"Well… first of all, these two names: Christopher and Gregory. I can't remember just 'one name' on its own. I only get a sense of recognition when they're together." Naegi held up two fingers in front of the landlord. "So I think their names must have appeared together somewhere. They became famous for something… wouldn't you say?"
"Fascinating." The landlord smiled back. "Why don't you come over and tell me more?" He stood up from the armchair and sat back down on the sofa. "Come, sit with me, dear. The sofa is much better than standing. And before you sleep, let me pour you a cup of tea. Perhaps a biscuit as well." He patted the empty spot beside him.
"Well, you really don't need to prepare all this. I didn't ask you to…" Naegi remained standing by the piano, watching the landlord fuss with the tea set and condiments.
Naegi sighed, picked up the signature book, and walked toward the sofa.
He was about to sit down when a thought struck him.
"I must have seen them in the newspapers—the one I picked up at the station today. It's in my bag! I'll go upstairs and get it…" He straightened up again to leave.
"Are you sure you wouldn't like some tea first?"
Naegi's hand was seized. He turned back. The landlord, half a head taller, had grabbed him, partially obscuring the firelight from behind. His face, backlit, was pale and indistinct.
Naegi tried to shake him off, but the man's grip was surprisingly strong—he was almost completely immobilized.
Just as Naegi was about to shout, "Let go of me!", the other man spoke first, cutting him off:
"Well, if you're in a hurry to leave… I shouldn't stop you." He spoke thus, showing a dejected look, his gaze drifting absently toward the carpet. Yet his grip showed no sign of loosening.
"I just want to get the newspaper from upstairs!" Naegi looked at him. His dejected expression didn't change a bit. Neither did his grip.
"…Alright, one cup won't hurt," he finally conceded, shrugging.
At last, the landlord released him, apparently reassured. He returned briskly to the tea table from which the fragrance of tea emanated, yet his face seemed strained, barely managing to reassert his former smile.
"Milk? Or sugar?" He tried to steady his tone as he asked Naegi.
"Uh… either is fine." After what had just happened, Naegi couldn't move.
"Then I'll add both for you."
Naegi stood silently, listening to the clink of the spoon stirring, continuing to recall the newspaper he'd seen earlier.
His impression was that there was a very prominent report on the front page.
He took a deep breath and ventured: "They weren't… Eton boys, were they? I remember one of them, uh… hiking through the western countryside, and then suddenly…"
Missing. Naegi swallowed the last word.
The sound of the spoon stirring stopped. The entire room fell eerily silent. The fire in the corner hissed and crackled. Naegi felt his palms begin to sweat.
"Eton? Is that so? I don't recall." His tone was inexplicably cold. The landlord pondered with lowered eyes for a moment, then opened them and continued staring at Naegi. "Hey, dear. Did you know? One of my guests was an Oxford student, I believe. If I'm not mistaken, the other came from a very prestigious place as well. Come over here, warm yourself by the fire. I'm afraid you'll freeze standing over there." He patted the empty spot beside him on the sofa a second time, continuing to show Naegi his flawless smile (it was no longer strained now).
But… Naegi still found it somewhat unsettling.
Naegi slowly walked around the tea table and sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa. At the same time, the landlord handed him the freshly brewed tea.
"Oxford?" The teacup radiated steady warmth. The pale reddish-brown tea exuded a sweet fragrance.
"Yes. I told you—they were both very talented."
"I see…" The stone in Naegi's heart did not fall as he'd imagined.
He leaned back somewhat deflated. The sofa was soft, very comfortable. The fire beside him radiated steady warmth, yet he could not calm down.
"Warm. Comfortable. I believe that's how it should be… but why do you look unwell? Have I done something wrong again?" The landlord's tone curled into a meaningful drawl at the end.
"Uh, no…" Naegi gazed at the ceiling, at the crystal chandelier reflecting the flickering firelight. "It's not you. Just… pretend I have something on my mind," he said.
Maybe… it is you, actually.
"Well, then… more tea? Try a biscuit? Does it taste bad? I can make a fresh batch…" He leaned closer to Naegi, one hand against his mouth. "These aren't homemade, okay—they're store-bought. If you'd like, I can get you something else."
"You… seem very nervous."
"Do I?" His eyes fluttered. Naegi felt their shoulders touch.
"Aren't you?"
"Do I…?"
"…"
"…"
"What happened to them?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"The other guests."
"Well… I imagine they're living out their happy lives, my dear Mr. Naegi-kun. I wouldn't know," he said. "As for matters of 'the present' or 'the future,' I couldn't say. How could I possibly speak to that? I do, however, still remember the past—I only know what happened while they were here. And I only remember some of that."
Naegi took a sip of tea. The landlord took a sip, too. For the next minute, neither of them initiated a topic. Naegi was curious about the landlord's sudden pause. He lowered his upturned head and saw the man sitting close beside him, smiling. His smile seemed less pronounced than before—just a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth, his brows slightly drawn, his gaze wandering. Although the firelight cast a warm glow upon him, he still looked… "cold." In truth, he was quite handsome, but still very unnerving.
Naegi turned half his body away, avoiding contact. And the landlord seemed to avoid him as well. Yet Naegi knew the man's gaze probably remained on him—on his hand holding the teacup, his face, or some other place…
Naegi ignored his gaze and continued drinking his tea.
Occasionally, he caught wafts of that peculiar scent emanating from the landlord. Just like before. It somewhat resembled the daisy fragrance on the bed in his guest room, yet it wasn't quite the same. At first sniff, it was quite fresh, but… hmm, a deeper whiff revealed something strange. It reminded him of… what was it? Naegi couldn't quite place it at the moment. Leather? Rust? Or the distinct smell of disinfectant in hospital corridors?
"Mr. Mulholland was especially fond of tea." The landlord finally broke the silence, then took another sip of his tea.
Naegi turned to look at him—he was no longer smiling.
"I've never seen anyone drink quite as much as him. I recall using nearly an entire pot—I mean, nearly an entire pot of tea just to win him over. He could really drink."
"He must have left this place a long time ago. Doesn't it make you curious, seeing former guests' names in the newspaper?" Naegi remained fixated on the two names that puzzled him. He repeatedly tried to recall the newspaper he'd skimmed earlier that evening.
He was now almost certain he had seen those two names in the papers. In the headlines.
"Left?" He curled his lip. "Dear sir, he hasn't left. He's still here. The other gentleman is here, too. Both of them together, in a room on the third floor."
Naegi hesitated, then set his teacup down on the table, turning to stare at his landlord in surprise.
"They're still here?"
He nodded, seemingly unconcerned by Naegi's shock. Once again, he smiled at Naegi.
He reached out a pale hand and patted Naegi's shoulder, then slowly stroked it as if comforting a small animal.
"How old are you, my dear?"
"22," Naegi answered hesitantly.
"22? You're very young… nearly the perfect age. Endless possibilities to shine your light. Why did you come here? You don't seem like a local."
This seemed rather redundant… This was England, after all, and he was Japanese.
"I'm on my gap year. You know, before university, I need some time to do what I want. I'm on a long trip now."
"Do people in Japan do that too?"
"I think most don't… Anyway, bad luck—I couldn't get in touch with the place I'd originally planned to stay, and now with this sudden heavy rain… so I have to stay here for the night."
"Mhmm. Perhaps the lucky one is me. To have such a delightful guest. What a pleasure talking with you!"
Really? Then why are your hands shaking?
"Mr. Mulholland seems to have been about the same age." He withdrew his hand from Naegi's shoulder and changed the subject. "Though, I believe he was much taller than you, sir. In fact, I'm quite certain of it. But there's no helping it—Japanese people, hmm." He spoke in a cheerful tone. "His teeth weren't nearly as white, though. In that respect, he couldn't compare to you, my dear Mr. Naegi. I think you have the most immaculate teeth I've ever seen. Don't you think so?"
"Ah…? I don't think they're anything special, as you say. I just have, uh, the same ordinary teeth as anyone else, I think? This is getting weird—why are you noticing things like that?"
"And Mr. Temple—he was a bit older than you." He continued, unconcerned by Naegi's questioning. "Twenty-eight, I believe? Who knows. And, if he hadn't told me himself, I'd never have had the chance to see such flawless, blemishless skin as his!"
"Wait… what?"
His tone rose, his right hand waving in the air, his expression as delighted as a bargain-hunting housewife. Naegi edged away.
"Not a single spot on his body. Like a baby. It quite surprised me—"
"Gah—!" At these words, Naegi could no longer suppress the scream rising in his throat.
"You—you—what are you… what are you saying?"
"Hmm? Is something the matter?"
"First teeth, now skin—why are you using language like that to—could it be—"
Naegi thought of certain "foreign customs." An indescribable, slight sense of nausea crept over him.
"Are you 'that kind' of person? The kind who's always been 'that way'?" He shot up from the sofa, dodging the bony hand on his leg. In his panic, he accidentally knocked over his half-finished teacup on the table.
Seeing this, the landlord showed a perplexed expression. "Sometimes… I really don't understand you. I don't follow," he said. His hand, having been pushed away, seemed to be creeping toward Naegi again.
"Don't—don't touch me—"
"Uh… hello?"
"Do you realize what you just said?"
"What?"
"You're—you're…"
"I am?"
Although he'd encountered plenty of such things online, experiencing one in person… Naegi wasn't prepared. He couldn't even bring himself to say it.
"Did I… say something strange?"
"But you—what you just implied—aren't you trying to say, uh—"
"I don't understand. Did I scare you? But why?"
"I…"
"Uh… 'flawless, blemishless skin'? Is that what frightened you? Hmm…?"
"Who describes someone else using words like that! As if you were intimately familiar—you wouldn't lure people here to—"
Naegi abruptly shut his mouth, his face flushed crimson.
The landlord again pressed a hand to his mouth, pondering the previous exchange. A few seconds later, he seemed to catch on. An expression of sudden realization flickered across his face for half a second, then shifted into embarrassed resignation.
"Oh, oh, oh! Alright, alright, I understand what you mean now." He spoke softly to Naegi, suppressing a laugh. "Okay! Describing a grown man's 'skin' as 'flawless, blemishless'… hmm. Yes, that is rather strange. How did I not realize? Alright, I'll rephrase: his skin was very nice."
"But—how did you—"
"Hmm? How did I know? Like I said, he told me." He seemed to anticipate Naegi's question and answered it preemptively.
"…"
"Well. Sorry! Sorry for startling you over such a strange thing." He raised both arms in a gesture of surrender. "I'll shut up now. I'll let you calm down, dear sir, how about that? I won't speak again until you permit me. Oh. Perhaps you'd like to go back and rest now?"
Naegi thought about fleeing—bolting up the stairs and back into his room. But whose house was this? As long as he was here, he couldn't escape. Maybe he could take his luggage and… no, just flee. Run away into the heavy rain, get out of this godforsaken place! But then what? What would he do next? From that perspective, though it pained him to admit it, running away wasn't the best choice right now.
It's just… this man was clearly not normal. Something was off about him. Naegi tried to think of his good qualities, to imagine him as helpful and kind. Was that right? Or was he letting his guard down?
Their eyes met. The fireplace crackled. Rain pattered incessantly outside the window, mingled with the faint chirping of insects. Aside from these sounds, all Naegi could hear was his own heavy breathing.
Seeing that Naegi hadn't immediately fled, the landlord seemed puzzled. Hesitation permeated his jade-green pupils. Faced with Naegi's sharp, wary gaze, the landlord ultimately lowered his eyes and sank back into his own thoughts.
Oh, heavens. The man before him had again assumed that pitiful, heartbreaking expression.
That melancholy brow and eye, almost indistinguishable from the sorrowful boy in his mind—the painting that had faded into darkness, the vanished happiness… those eyes, so similar to his own, like some kind of enchantment, or perhaps fate itself—two unrelated lives mysteriously entangled, meeting by chance, and now, giving rise to an odd sense of compassion. In conclusion, Naegi really didn't want to see this stranger sad anymore.
There was something about those girlishly long eyelashes. The discomfort that had been churning inside Naegi transformed into something else—guilt? No way…
Basic respect and compassion, Naegi. This is the most fundamental principle of your life… He recited inwardly.
Naegi returned the overturned teacup to its original position on the table. The landlord's slightly bowed head did not seem to move.
Come on, this makes it look like he's the one who did something wrong. Say something. Defend yourself, apologize, anything—so I can find the words to respond… Are you really not going to say anything?
Or is he really waiting for my "permission"?
"…Sorry. I—I didn't mean to slander you, it's just…"
He slightly withdrew his head. Naegi could feel his intense gaze through the veil of his long, tousled bangs.
"…Alright. I don't know. I don't know if this is some foreign custom or what! I thought you were gay—maybe you are? But… I don't know! I'm not used to it. Anyway… I got scared. I shouldn't have treated you like that! Sorry!"
The landlord's eyes flew wide open. A look of astonishment.
"Wait—that's not it? Did I say something wrong again? Uh… anyway, I think you're a good person. You are a good person, right? I don't know foreign customs. Maybe you didn't do anything wrong before… but I don't understand! Is this some kind of special establishment? If so, please, let me go—I'm not that kind of person—I mean, I'm not—"
"Alright, alright! That's enough, that's enough. I understand. You don't need to say any more."
"I… I'm sorry…" Naegi's voice grew softer, and he involuntarily lowered his gaze.
"It's fine. I don't mind." He said this, his tone very gentle, very flat, yet the light in his eyes had grown somewhat cold.
"I understand what you mean. Thank you very much for considering me… 'a good person.' I don't get the chance to hear that every day. However—"
But then, noticing Naegi's crestfallen expression, he added, "Well. You've misunderstood after all. But the good news is, I now know exactly what scared you."
He crossed and uncrossed his legs, giving Naegi a "please, sit" gesture. Naegi sat back down beside him hesitantly.
"Although it seems that nothing I say now will reassure you… That's fine. Since I can't change your mind, I suppose… it's not such a big deal for you to think that way. Dear sir, all you need to know is this: I will not harm you. That's all. On the contrary, I will take good care of you. I will fulfill my duties and do my job well, for my job is to serve others—and again, this is a legitimate establishment. You need not worry unnecessarily."
Naegi's flushed face remained bright red.
"In any case, would you like… to change the subject? To something more comfortable for you? Football? Gardening? Board games? I'm not sure I could carry on a conversation about those, and of course, I'm not sure you'd be interested in such topics either…"
"Ah, no, that's not necessary." He averted his gaze, trying to distract himself and alleviate some of his guilt.
In fact, he succeeded. He was actually quite curious about the large parrot in the corner of the living room. It hadn't moved an inch throughout their argument.
"Hmm… you seem to keep many pets. Hmm. Very nice…" He stammered out a sentence.
"…Pets? Oh! You mean the parrot over there? Well, that's actually a specimen."
"…A specimen."
"Or a mummy! You know, something made from a corpse. Though you still need to carefully remove the internal organs, preserve them by drying, stuff the body to prevent odors, then use wire—"
"Stop… stop! I get it…"
"Uh, sorry…"
A specimen… Right. Like the insect specimens they made in elementary school extracurricular activities, just replaced with something furry… Naegi didn't like bugs, but he'd absorbed some相关知识 in class. A furry… animal specimen. It felt like something you'd see in a museum.
But why did they look so lifelike?
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but that's actually a specimen, not a living creature," he repeated.
"That parrot…" Naegi took a deep breath and finally spoke. "It looks so real. When I saw it through the window, I really thought… it was alive!"
"Hmm. It was alive, once."
"This is incredible. I've never seen such a realistic specimen. Where did you buy it?"
"Unfortunately, it came from my own hands."
"You?"
"Mmm… I made the specimen myself."
"You?"
"Of course," he said. "Would you like to see my little dog over there? It's also a specimen." He nodded toward the dog sleeping by the fire and continued, "This is a hobby of mine, I suppose. To me, it's a way of preserving memories—or perhaps it represents something more. What do you think?"
"Good heavens…" Naegi exclaimed. "I—can I touch it?"
"Of course. Please, feel free." The unease in his eyes finally softened at this moment.
Naegi trotted excitedly to the other side of the living room, reached out, and gently touched the back of the dog specimen: the texture was stiff and cold. When he parted the fur with his fingers, he caught the scent of dried flowers beneath; the skin underneath was pale black, very dry, and well-preserved. He couldn't help but walk toward the parrot. Its texture was as dry as the dog specimen's.
Now that Naegi understood the truth about these "animals," the living room suddenly became extraordinarily still and inorganic.
"This is… truly astonishing. It must be a very complex craft." Despite his words, his mood hadn't improved much. Nevertheless, he returned to the sofa and cast a slightly more admiring glance at his landlord.
"It's nothing," he said. "When my dear little pets pass away, I make them into specimens like this myself."
"Ah…"
"Since the first little dog died, I tried to learn this craft. Actually, I find it quite an interesting activity, and then gradually I developed this rather uncommon hobby. The one you see now isn't the 'first one'—the 'first one' wasn't the most skilled work, but at least it carries the most meaning. That one was larger than this one and had long white fur…"
Naegi had indeed never observed such things up close, to the point that he didn't actually hear much of the landlord's lengthy explanation.
"Moreover… I think this is the best possible归宿 for that poor little dog, even though I've completely forgotten its name. How unfortunate. Rest in peace, buddy."
"Anyway, would you like me to pour you another cup of tea?"
Naegi realized he was being addressed. "Oh! No, thank you," he replied.
The landlord set down the teapot, his peripheral gaze catching the signature book on the sofa. His tone turned slightly serious as he asked Naegi:
"You signed just now… right? You did sign?"
"Yeah, I signed."
"That's good." He breathed a sigh of relief and murmured to himself. "After all, I'm not sure… if I'll forget your name later—I did say I'm in one ear and out the other, didn't I—this way, if I forget, I can always come and look at your signature here. Just like occasionally, uh, Mr. Mulholland and… and, uh, what was his name…"
"Temple?" Naegi was puzzled. "You just said that name a moment ago. I don't think you'd forget someone's name that quickly, would you?"
"…I just would."
"Well. Anyway, I'm leaving tomorrow. You'll probably forget my name soon enough."
Speaking of names, Naegi suddenly remembered something.
"Come to think of it… you've never told me your name, Mr. Landlord."
"My… my name?" He froze, as if he'd swallowed an egg—his throat seemed to seize up, unable to speak.
"What's wrong?"
"My name…? Oh!" He stammered in reply. "You don't need to waste your time remembering the name of someone like me. You'll forget soon enough anyway… someone as卑劣 as me, his name…"
"Uh… what do you mean by that?"
"I mean, what is my name, after all? You're not coming back, right? So… it doesn't matter! It's not important to you…"
"Why… won't you tell me? Is there something you want to hide?"
"Hide? Of course not! Uh… well, I haven't thought about hiding anything. I've been sincere with you all along… It's just… well, if you insist, I will. Of course I'll tell you!"
He took a deep breath, as if preparing to make a grand declaration:
"Nagito Komaeda. That is my name. Nagito Komaeda. You'll forget me… you won't forget, will you? You'll remember it forever…?" He muttered his own name awkwardly, then whispered something inaudible to Naegi. "A name… perhaps one you'll never forget for the rest of your life… You'll remember, won't you…?"
"Mm… Nagito Komaeda… Alright, Mr. Komaeda. Hello."
"Oh… hello, hello, my dear Mr. Naegi-kun… sir. You'll remember me, you'll remember me, right?"
"Uh… I will? Uh, at least for now?"
"You will. I mean—what if? What if you find that this really is a good place, and the feeling of comfort slows time itself, making you feel like you never want to leave here or something… uh, I mean, you won't forget this place, you'll leave with unforgettable memories… and every time you think of it, you'll think of me, right?"
I… won't. This is just a… passing interlude in an otherwise unfortunate little episode of my life, right? Maybe Naegi would remember it for a while—or even a long while—but he didn't think he'd remember it "forever."
Naegi yawned.
For some reason, Naegi hadn't noticed the other man's agitation at all.
In fact, there were many things he hadn't noticed. And right now, this living room seemed quieter than ever before.
"This… this is unbearable now…" his landlord murmured. "It's different now…"
"Excuse me, did you say something just now?"
"Never mind me! Let's talk about you, shall we? Dear, from the look on your face, you're thinking about the future? I have a feeling about it."
"Hmm, maybe. But actually, I wasn't thinking about anything. I'm just tired."
"You're tired? Is there… something you'd like to do?"
"Sorry, I think I should go. I feel completely exhausted right now… My brain desperately needs rest, I guess. I want to, I want to…" He yawned again.
"Sleep." He cut Naegi off. "Alright, then… mind your step. Don't fall on the stairs." He cautioned Naegi attentively.
Was it necessary to treat him like some fragile child? Though this phrase crossed Naegi's mind, he realized his own steps had become unsteady. Standing by the edge of the classical wooden staircase, he felt a dizziness in his head.
Mr. Landlord? Nagito Komaeda. Komaeda. An enthusiastic person. A weirdo who tried to avoid, yet refused to defend, his own strange behavior. Was he a good person?
His reason and consciousness were gradually drifting away. Untethered words danced and tangled in his mind: a sensation like a warm breeze brushing past. But something was wrong.
"Sorry… but I have to ask, no matter what. In these two years… have you really had no guests at all?" His drowsy mind latched onto what seemed a very important clue. "You couldn't have only hosted two guests before I came, right?"
"Oh? Are you curious?"
A spark burst from the fireplace, like the crackling in Naegi's own head.
"No, my dear." He held his saucer in one hand, his teacup in the other, sipping delicately. A flicker of malice slid through his eyes as he looked at Naegi.
"Only you, hmm," he said. "I hope you're alright."
---
"They don't matter anymore. From the moment you came, I noticed. From now on, I imagine… I'll only have you as my guest, my dear."
---
Suddenly, Naegi felt a dizziness as if struck by a hammer. Yet there was no pain, no discomfort—only the warmth spreading through his muscles. His knees gave way, and he collapsed heavily against the stair railing. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, the tinnitus pounding in his ears grew louder, and photopsia seemed to roll behind his optic nerve.
The remnants of his senses told him that, before he lost consciousness, the landlord walked toward him, murmuring something:
…
"Hey, my dear. Are you alright? You're the most perfect choice I've ever laid eyes on. So beautiful. So dreamlike. So unexpected."
"I've never been so surprised, never been so fortunate… never… so hopeful. You've been too kind to me. I couldn't help but tell you this… But we have plenty of time. No need to rush… for either of us…"
…
"Drift into deep sleep… Do you know you look just like a gentle, obedient little puppy? I can hardly bear it any longer…"
"Hush—I won't hurt you. Remember my name, and sink deeply into your dreams. Rest well. Have a sweet, wonderful dream…"
---
And then everything before his eyes vanished, leaving only endless darkness to fill his fading consciousness.