A true friend should be held on to with the Eighteen Grips of the Diamond Fist.
–Friedrich Nietzsche
Originally, my first eting with Watson should have been far more impressive than it was.
I still vividly rember it.
The day I first t Watson.
Having earned his dical doctorate from the University of London, Watson served as a military doctor with the 5th Northumberland Infantry Regint, but was discharged after being shot in the leg in Afghanistan.
Upon returning to London, perhaps in an attempt to reward himself for the hardships he had endured abroad, he stayed in an upscale hotel and spent money as if it were water.
Eventually, it wasn’t long before Watson squandered all the money he saved while working at the hospital and could no longer afford to stay at the hotel.
Watson needed to find a cheap boarding house, and at that ti, I was looking for a roommate to share the rent with.
In the anti, by sheer coincidence, a mutual acquaintance, Stanford, introduced Watson to , who at the ti was staying at 221B Baker Street. It was there, in the hospital’s laboratory, where we first exchanged greetings.
I never believed in fate, but it was certainly impressive and it was a eting where we could feel a genuine human connection with each other.
It was certainly like that.
“……”
Even though I accurately guessed his return from Afghanistan, Watson’s reaction was different from the past.
Upon reflection, it was natural.
The one claiming to be John Watson. No, she was a lady who had changed her appearance through face-changing technique, and I was an impudent person standing before her without a thread on.
Moreover, I was holding a cane filled with internal energy in my hand.
To a third party, it might look like I was a criminal.
Fortunately, Mrs. Hudson already knows that I am a fine gentleman, so if I get dressed and clear up the misunderstanding, there should be no problem.
That was my thought.
-Bang! Bang! Bang!!
“Are you alright! Mr. Hols! There was an explosion from the wall all of a sudden!!”
Until Inspector Lestrade of the tropolitan Police, who resembled a rat, ca up to the second floor with his subordinate officers.
“……”
“……”
A suffocating silence enveloped the boarding house. Finally, the inspector spoke.
“Arrest him with martial arts!!”
“Shut up, Lestrade.”
Lestrade, who was passing by, barged in after seeing the boarding house wall sliced by a Sword Aura, but I managed to send them away safely with a logical explanation.
This was possible because Inspector Lestrade and other police officials had frequently sought my help.
Of course, it would have been difficult if Mrs. Hudson hadn’t actively defended (she probably didn’t want a criminal coming out of her boarding house).
Fortunately, after the police left, I quickly changed into new clothes and had the chance to explain to the remaining two people what had happened.
“For six days, since you hadn’t eaten anything and locked yourself away, I assud you were focusing on training, but it turns out you had a great awakening. Congratulations.”
“That’s precisely it. I sincerely apologize for the unsightly appearance caused by a most disagreeable coincidence.”
Mrs. Hudson and the self-proclaid Watson (honestly, I still found it hard to accept that this woman was Watson) only listened to my explanation after examining the torn fabric pieces.
She was still blushing at the topic of having served as an army doctor. It must have been embarrassing to face a mber of the opposite sex in such a state, not as an injured person and a doctor.
eting a close friend after a long ti and seeing their appearance and gender completely reversed was bewildering to , but what could I do, this was reality.
“You said your na was Watson, correct? I apologize for my rudeness upon our first eting.”
“No, not at all. I sincerely apologize for the misunderstanding on my part.”
Fortunately, Watson accepted my apology without finding fault, as his serious and gentle nature seed unchanged.
However, there is no landlord who pretends not to see a hole in the wall.
I had to apologize to Mrs. Hudson for the hole I made in the floor yesterday and the damage to the wall, promising to pay the full cost of the repairs.
“With such remarkable martial talent, Mr. Hols, instead of idling around, you should consider applying for associate mbership at The Royal Combat Society.”
Mrs. Hudson said this imdiately after discussing the repair costs.
Paying rent consistently and having a legitimate career as an investigative consultant, yet being told I was idle was, frankly, unexpected.
“Among your peers, Mr. Hols, there are hardly any who have reached the threshold of the Peak realm.”
“It was rely luck.”
Mostly because I had the fortune of eting a great master.
Of course, it was my exceptional talent that allowed to get this far.
“Anyway, do think about it.”
“I will consider it.”
Associate mber of The Royal Combat Society… Honestly, it’s not a title that particularly entices .
Though an annual budget is provided, it is not sothing that pleases to frequently display martial arts in front of others, for such acts are against the vision of the One Person Inheritance, as seen in Baritsu’s teachings.
Above all, attending the Regular Duel held at Gresham College was botherso.
Though, if joining The Royal Combat Society proves beneficial in achieving future objectives, I may consider it.
“Hero Hols was a master of the Peak realm. I, Watson, cannot help but be deeply impressed.”
However, the mont I answered Mrs. Hudson, Watson, who had been fanning her face repeatedly, turned towards and perford a hand over fist salute.
“No….”
I waved my hand at the unexpected reaction.
“That’s not true.”
“How could that be? To achieve such a level at the age of twenty-eight, the number of up and coming talents like you in Great Britain is so few you can count them on one hand.”
Watson’s eyes were sparkling with curiosity.
Seeing that she had addressed as “ Hero“, suggested that the poor impression left earlier was dispelled at once by the term “Peak realm master”.
Given the unfortunate incident that had just happened, I was concerned that Watson might look for a different boarding house, but luckily, England operates under a societal hierarchy of martial prowess, where inner strength is highly regarded.
Of course, it could be that Watson’s personal interest in martial arts is unexpectedly strong, leading to this reaction.
Anyway, since the misunderstanding is cleared up, shall I bring up the main topic now?
“Co to think of it, Dr. Watson, what brings you here?”
I know Watson ca to look for a boarding house, but I can’t reveal that.
So, it seems natural to ask about the purpose of her visit here.
“Oh dear, look at my mind. I promised an introduction but completely forgot.”
Mrs. Hudson, startled, covered her mouth.
“Introduction?”
Feigning ignorance, I slyly asked her.
“Since Mr. Hols hasn’t been coming out, Mr. Stanford suggested that the two of you et directly.”
“Aha. So, Dr. Watson, you are looking for a boarding house―”
“Yes. Let formally introduce you. Mr. Hols, this is Dr. John Watson. Dr. Watson, this is Mr. Sherlock Hols.”
Watson and I finally shook hands properly.
‘As expected.’
Watson’s hand, which I touched for the first ti, was much smaller and smoother than mine, but the notable point was that her body felt as cold as ice.
This also supported the hypothesis I had in mind after seeing her sleek silver strands mixed with her red hair.
“Why don’t you two have a chat? I’ll prepare so light refreshnts.”
Mrs. Hudson left the room for us, considering our cohabitation.
ticulous by nature, she didn’t forget to send a maid to take care of the torn clothes while preparing the al.
“It’s a cozy room. I’m glad I ca.”
On the second floor of the boarding house, now alone, Watson was the first to speak.
“Of course. Not only is it cozy, but Mrs. Hudson’s cooking is also top-notch. As you can see, the living room is spacious, and there are even two bedrooms. The only drawback is the slightly expensive rent—”
Taking into account her constitution I confird through a handshake, I ignited the Buddha Fire1 to light the fireplace.
“I believe it would be a reasonable price if we each contributed half.”
It was an honest opinion.
It’s not easy to find a boarding house with such conditions in London.
Watson, too, seed to know this and ca all the way here herself.
“That sounds quite intriguing.”
Watson replied with a bright expression.
It couldn’t have been an easy decision to live with a man while hiding her gender.
It seed like her financial situation wasn’t very favorable.
Still, once we beco close, she might continue to stay here even after getting re-employed at the hospital.
“I smoke frequently. Sotis, I mix potent elixirs as well. Is it okay if the house fills with smoke?”
“I don’t mind. There are two large windows here, aren’t there? There shouldn’t be any problem with ventilation.”
“Occasionally, I conduct experints with elixirs and chemicals.”
“Actually, I have a great interest in elixirs as well. May I seek your guidance?”
Fortunately, the Watson from this world seed to get along with just fine.
Although her passion for exploring martial arts was a bit stronger than expected, which was slightly concerning.
“Of course. Besides that, my shortcomings are…as you saw earlier, I sotis spend days absorbed in ditation or beco so engrossed in sothing that I don’t say a word.”
“I think it’s a proper attitude to pursue the principles of martial arts. I hope you won’t find it troubleso even if I seek your guidance.”
Watson was smiling the entire ti we talked about each other.
Seeing my friend transford into a woman dressed as a man, I had felt a mix of emotions, but sohow, I was naturally chatting with Watson as if it were a lie.
“It’s a bit embarrassing to ramble on about my own flaws. I’d like to hear your story, Doctor. It would be better to know as much as we can about each other before living under the sa roof.”
“I agree.”
Watson, scratching her head awkwardly, spoke again.
“I naturally have low blood pressure, so I struggle every morning. I’m sensitive to noise as well.”
“Oh dear. I swear I will be careful not to cut through the walls again. Is it okay if I practice my violin?”
“If it’s pleasant to hear, it’s always welco.”
We talked for a while about each other’s preferences.
Most of it was aningless chatter, but repeating conversations with a friend I missed gave great satisfaction.
However, at the sa ti, I felt an indescribable sense of loss.
It was because, through the conversation we just had, I had confird that the woman who shared the na Watson with my friend was, in fact, an entirely different person.
“Mr. Hols, are you unwell sowhere? You don’t look well.”
“It’s nothing. It seems so dust got into my eye.”
I smiled as if nothing was wrong.
I have no choice but to accept it.
If this woman is the only John Watson in this world, I am willing to beco her closest friend.
Because that’s the least atonent I can make for choosing to end my life without leaving a single farewell note to a friend.
“By the way, you ntioned earlier that I went to Afghanistan. Did Stanford tell you?”
anwhile, Watson finally throws a long-awaited question with bright eyes.
“Of course not. Observing others is part of my daily routine. I am soone who has honed the ability to deduce a number of facts based on a slight clue.”
Watson blinked with a rather surprised face and asked again.
“As you ntioned, I have just returned from Afghanistan. If it’s not too much trouble, may I ask what steps you took to reach that conclusion?”
I wanted to continue enjoying Watson’s expression full of curiosity and admiration, so I intended to answer the question imdiately, but then I closed my mouth.
It was because part of the answer I had given to John when he asked the sa question in the past bothered .
At the ti, I had said that Watson’s face was sunburned but the inside of his wrist was still white, which led to conclude he had returned from a hot region.
However, the Watson here had skin as white as jade and smooth all over her body, including her face, perhaps due to her unique constitution.
With no choice but to provide other evidence to explain the deduction process to Watson, at that mont, I inadvertently saw the back of the pocket watch she took out from her pocket.
I rembered that watch. It was engraved with the initials ‘H. W.’ for Henry, Watson’s older brother.
The watch had been passed down from Watson’s father to his eldest son, who shared the sa na. After his death, due to his drinking habits, it ended up in Watson’s hands―
[H. W.]
[J. W.]
On the back of the watch, checked through an eye technique, there was another initial engraved.
Before the regression, Watson rembered not bothering to engrave his own na on the back. Was it a coincidence?
“Before I answer that question, there is sothing I would like to check.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“I apologize if this question seems inappropriate, but how many siblings do you have, Mr. Watson―”
It was then.
Before I could finish my sentence, there was a knock from downstairs, and a young detective with a pale face rushed up to the second floor.
“What is the matter, Inspector Gregson.”
When I asked, Tobias Gregson, the rival of Lestrade who barged in earlier and a slightly more intelligent and capable mber of Scotland Yard, replied, panting heavily.
“It’s a murder case. We need Mr. Hols’ help.”
TL/N: Samadhi True Fire ️
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