Third floor of a newly built comrcial building near the university district. Eyes were drawn to a man who had just entered an ophthalmology clinic decorated with bright-colored tiles. It was because of his large build and crow-black clothing. Regardless, the man registered with a sowhat nervous-looking nurse and took a seat.
"Is he a foreigner?"
"He's huge."
Two female students in school uniforms whispered quietly. Then, startled when their eyes t his, they moved seats. However, the man turned his head forward again as if he hadn't heard.
'Do I stand out?'
Cyrus thought while touching his black hair with his fingertips. Not being part of the majority race was actually less of a problem. This city was more globalized than its residents thought. The problem was his build, which was more than a head taller than others.
But there was no helping it. He just had to get everything done quickly.
When his na was called, he entered the room the nurse guided him to. The doctor, called 'Departnt Head,' looked up from his computer.
"You ca because of dry eyes?"
Cyrus touched the microphone with translation function. And answered the doctor's words.
"No. I ca to talk about your younger sister. I don't know if you've tried contacting her."
"Pardon?"
The doctor, who had been blinking while unable to follow the conversation, took off his glasses.
"So, you're saying you're not a patient?"
"I am this kind of person."
It was fortunate that he had business cards even though he had rarely used them. Cyrus even offered his passport just in case.
The doctor's gaze, which had been looking at him like a complete con artist, softened only after putting the na in a search engine and comparing the face in the news with the face before his eyes several tis.
"Ah, this ga. It seems like it's been dragging on for quite a while. But what's your relationship with my younger sister?"
"The story I'm about to tell you is neither a lie nor a joke."
He didn't have the talent to condense a long story into a short one. Cyrus's story was crude, and sotis literal translations remained due to the translator's performance. The doctor, who seed extrely realistic, frowned or clicked his tongue disapprovingly but listened to the story until the end.
However, when he heard the final words 'she won't co back,' even the doctor who had endured listening to all that absurd story couldn't help but turn pale.
"You don't seem like soone idle enough to co to another country to spout nonsense."
"It's not nonsense. Your sister decided not to co back."
"Are you saying our kid died? Why suddenly...? Could this be so sche to avoid paying compensation? If that's the case, right now...!"
"There's a letter."
"What letter? Where's the guarantee that you people didn't fabricate it?"
"You'll know if you read it. And even if you don't say that, I'll take as much responsibility as I can. But please read the letter now. There's no ti."
When Cyrus added that the letter was in a ga that would soon disappear, the doctor's face turned cold. This was ridiculous. So crazy person had co to soone else's workplace in broad daylight to cause a scene.
'But why specifically.'
Of all countries and cities, this country, this city.
Of all people, my younger sister.
An appearance that was clearly from far away and a translation device in one ear. A face identical to the ga company executive in the photo attached to the newspaper article.
It had been exactly one week since there had been any contact from his sister. He thought it was ridiculous, but there was no one else to care about that kid's affairs.
Nonsense. It's nonsense. A con artist.
But it's about his only sister. One of only two blood relatives left in this world. Even if it was a scam, he had no choice but to be fooled. Right, it wasn't like they were asking for money, just to read a letter.
And strangely, it didn't seem like it would be a lie.
"Departnt Head, where are you going?"
"I'm going sowhere for a bit! It's urgent!"
He begged a colleague who was off duty today to take over for just a mont, and left a ssage for his husband to call the police if there was no contact even after two hours.
The place the woman who hurriedly left the hospital arrived at following Cyrus was a nearby comrcial building. The woman, who had been wary that he might be taking her sowhere strange, seed relieved and relaxed her shoulders when they arrived at the familiar bakery building. Even in the midst of this, she didn't forget to wave and greet the shop owner.
Inside the room was a large cocoon-shaped machine. She had seen this machine at her sister's house too. These days, children were apparently pestering their parents so much to buy this. Having such idle thoughts, she entered the machine following the guidance.
After quickly passing through several settings, her vision turned black. And the next mont, she was standing in a completely new world.
Airships passing low overhead. Horseless carriages running along the roadway spewing steam. Exotic buildings that looked like ones she had seen on overseas trips a few years ago.
The people were diverse. A lady in an elegant dress that would have been worn a hundred years ago. A crude robot in the form of a boy following behind her. A woman in a skirt that exposed her thighs like cosplay costu with a fancy hat, holding a large gun in her hand. A man who had stripped off his shirt entirely, wore rabbit ears on his head, and carried an axe on his back.
Cyrus led the woman, who was looking around curiously, to a nearby house. It was a house that felt cold without any signs of life, but it had all the furniture. When they arrived at a shabby study, he took out an envelope from thin air.
"This is it."
The envelope was small and slightly crumpled. The woman's gaze, which had been colored with curiosity until just before, showed a sense of complexity about 'why did I even follow him here.' Even that was exactly like Esperanza.
The woman who opened the letter envelope with a big sigh fixed her gaze on the beginning. She opened her eyes wide and muttered blankly.
"The handwriting is right. Really..."
Really.
In that familiar handwriting, the sister in the letter listed many childhood mories that only the two of them knew, as if trying to prove herself. mories that were fluffy and soft like being buried in a pile of pillows.
In the part explaining her decision not to return, the writing was ssy as if her hands had been shaking. It showed clear signs of agonizing deliberation until the very end. As if she had seen the expression of the sister who was writing those words, the woman's lips also ford a tearful expression.
Cyrus watched the woman, who was different from Esperanza in build and appearance but had eyes exactly like the sisters, read the letter as if morizing it. He thought she might cry. But when she raised her head after a long while, the woman's cheeks were dry.
"She says it's not a permanent separation. That she'll co to visit later."
It still didn't feel real. To be honest, she still hadn't ruled out the possibility of being caught in a bad scam. She might even be hoping for that. But this was probably reality.
If that kid didn't co back like this, would she gradually realize it like being soaked by rain over one month, two months?
"Is this the end?"
"This is all I have."
"I see."
The woman looked out the window at the scenery for a long ti. Cyrus couldn't know what thoughts she had while looking at the unfamiliar cityscape.
"I should go back. I asked them to cover for just two hours."
"Will you be alright? You won't be able to co to this place again."
"Still, I have to do my job."
She said she wasn't dead, that she was healthy and doing well—that was enough. Probably.
She didn't really know. She felt like she hadn't understood even half of the letter's contents.
"Actually, it doesn't feel real..."
Even if she went back, she felt like she would just be dazed. She had never even thought of the possibility of losing her sister in this way. She respected that kid's decision, but she still didn't really understand.
Maybe soday there would co a day when she'd understand. Just like that kid said she would co back soday.
The woman eventually left. She looked back at the letter several tis as if reluctant, with a face that didn't know how much she should accept.
Cyrus remained alone and watched a little longer at the sight of people from two worlds mingling together. This was a scene that would soon disappear.
He headed toward Avondale mansion. Cool air, grass that had grown up to calf height in what had once been a garden. The front door was open as if no one had visited during this ti.
The murdered young count. The mansion that had lost its master. A quietness that seed like even the sun would lose its light.
For a mont, a different scene overlapped over it.
Rising grass, blooming flower trees. The sound of a bell announcing ti from a distant clock tower could be heard, and an elegant carriage made of ebony entered the mansion spewing steam. The carriage door opened and a woman wearing a white hat stood in front of the entrance.
The tall and upright woman didn't look back. She raised her white-gloved hand to lift her hat slightly upward and directed her gaze to the balcony. As if she had discovered sothing there, her lips under the hat's shadow softened gently.
The next mont, the woman leaped up in one bound, stepped on the carriage, and climbed over the balcony railing. No one was surprised.
From inside the window, a long and elegant hand suddenly appeared, grasped the woman's wrist, and pulled her in. The window closed and the curtain ca down.
The window, deeply colored by the curtain's hue, no longer showed anything. Cyrus turned around.
He still had many things left to do.
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