Mikhail, walking through the dense fog, suddenly shivered as a chill ran down his spine.
"..."
A hazy moonlight, like a mirage.
The village beneath it.
It looked eerily gloomy.
As he entered the outskirts of the village, Mikhail muttered softly, tilting his head. It was because the thought, ’Was there a village here…?’ crossed his mind. To be precise, the thought, ’Was there even a road like this?’ struck him strongly.
’...’
Thinking about it, Mikhail shook his head with a wry smile, suspecting that he might have taken a different route than usual. After all, the words of a coachman, who was more familiar with the roads than soone who had only ridden in carriages a few tis, were likely to be correct.
’...’
Mikhail suppressed the uneasy feeling and continued toward the village.
A green adow.
A rain-soaked dirt road.
Ordinary houses.
Not long after.
Mikhail passed by a young couple walking down the street. Their harmonious appearance, holding hands and strolling together, brought a faint smile of envy to his face.
-...
’What is this.’
But that feeling quickly faded.
Up close, the couple’s expressions were chilling. Their rigid, emotionless faces, as if soone had forced them to hold hands, sent a sudden shiver through him.
Mikhail turned back and stared blankly at the retreating figures of the couple. He had never seen such expressions in his life.
’...Strange.’
-Heh-heh.
The couple, as if nothing had happened, were now smiling and patting each other on the shoulder. Though their faces were out of sight, their playful gestures made Mikhail shake his head and move forward.
’I must be tired.’
Even though the eerie feeling didn’t fade easily, Mikhail forced himself to erase the scene from his mind. After all, holding onto unpleasant mories for too long could only be harmful.
-Step. Step.
At the center of the village stood an inn.
An old-looking inn.
Perhaps because of the strange couple he had just seen, the chilly wind felt even more biting than usual.
The flowerbed arranged in front of the inn.
The gravel underfoot—it all seed like the haunted house from a friend’s ghost story.
Looking up at the inn, built with aged bricks, Mikhail raised his head.
"..."
The windows were covered with yellowed curtains, making it impossible to see inside. The faint light seeping through the cracks in the curtains was the only indication that soone was there.
Three people on the second floor.
Four people on the third floor.
’Looks like they’re open for business.’
The doorknob he grabbed felt cold and unfamiliar. Strangely so. It could have been because of the rain, but it seed even colder than that.
Mikhail swallowed the lump in his throat and knocked on the doorknob.
-...Knock. Knock. Knock.
Each knock on the doorknob echoed with a low, dull sound that seed to dissolve into the fog.
No sound or sign of life ca from beyond the door, and the silence that returned was so profound that it made him question if this place was even alive.
Amid the stillness, an inexplicable tension hung in the air. It felt as though soone—or sothing—was holding its breath in the darkness, waiting.
’It’s probably just my imagination.’
Mikhail turned the doorknob and stepped inside.
"Excuse ."
The creaking of the old hinges reverberated chillingly as a woman at the center of the inn turned to look at him.
"Hello."
"Oh, hello!"
As if she had been waiting for him, the innkeeper greeted him with a bright smile and approached him with light steps.
She seed like an ordinary person.
Unlike the eerie couple earlier, her expression wasn’t unsettling, and she had the warm deanor of a middle-aged woman.
Only then did Mikhail let out a sigh of relief and smile. It seed he had been tense for no reason.
At the innkeeper’s radiant smile, Mikhail bowed his head slightly and slowly followed her guidance. Then, he asked if there was a room available.
"Do you have any rooms available?"
"Of course."
"Ah, then..."
As Mikhail reached into his pocket to take out so money, the innkeeper leaned casually against the desk and started chatting.
"By the way, what brings you to this place?"
"...Pardon?"
"Our village is in such an obscure location that we rarely get visitors. So, I was curious about your reason for coming. Hohoho...!"
"..."
"It’s not sothing like eloping or being chased by soone, is it?"
"No, no. It’s just that there was a bit of an accident with the carriage on the way here... Haha..."
"Ah, so you’re a special guest...."
"Sorry?"
The innkeeper murmured softly, and when Mikhail questioned her, she waved her hand dismissively, saying, "Oh, no. My, that must have been troubleso," as she placed a room key on the desk.
"You can head up to Room 202."
"Thank you."
"Oh, wait!"
The innkeeper stopped Mikhail, who was about to leave, and handed him a towel and comfortable clothes from a shelf, speaking in a low voice.
"Have a good night."
"Thank you."
The innkeeper watched Mikhail’s back as he climbed the stairs, a faint smile on her face.
And then.
"..."
She stood there, expressionless and rigid, just like the couple from earlier.
*
Leaving behind the unsettling feeling, Mikhail lay down in his room, running a hand through his hair with a troubled expression.
"...Hoo."
Lying on the bed, it felt as though his fatigue was lting away. The training with Ricardo and even dining with him had been no small feat for Mikhail.
Focusing all his nerves in one place, Mikhail slowly closed his eyes, overwheld by exhaustion.
Even so.
"For the first ti, I did sothing for Ricardo...."
It wasn’t a bad day.
Like sunlight breaking through a sky that had been filled only with dark clouds, the faint warmth that crept in brought a small smile to Mikhail’s face.
For the first ti, he had been able to treat Ricardo to a al and talk with him a bit more.
Though he could only get this close for now, if they t more often and talked more, they could grow closer.
Then soday....
Mikhail thought he would be able to show Ricardo his vulnerable side and muster the courage to "apologize."
Because he had to.
Because only then could he dare to hope for even a little more in their stagnant relationship. Mikhail pressed his tired eyes with his sleeve, holding back his tears.
"Should I wash up..."
Mikhail murmured softly as he looked at the towel and clothes placed on the old desk.
Having only roughly wiped off his rain-soaked body with the towel, Mikhail felt a strong urge to clean himself properly.
And so, he took one step.
-...
Two steps.
-...
And when he took the third step.
Mikhail suddenly stopped walking, standing still in place as a single question crossed his mind.
"Why."
-...
"Is it so quiet?"
It was silent.
Being an old inn, the soundproofing should have been poor, yet the inn was eerily quiet.
The room next door.
The room upstairs.
The corridor.
Certainly. He had seen the light on in the neighboring room. Among the curtained windows, he had clearly seen light seeping through. Yet, the inn was strangely quiet.
He wondered if he was just being overly sensitive because he was alone, but still, this was too quiet...
It was at that mont.
-Ah, that’s refreshing.
A woman’s voice ca from the room next door.
"Haah..."
Mikhail let out a sigh of relief and resud walking toward the bathhouse.
He wasn’t being chased, so why was he so tense? Mikhail shook his head at his own cowardice.
And in the room Mikhail had just left behind.
-...
Silence fell once more.
It was oppressively quiet, as though soone were pressing their ear against the wall to listen.
*
"Damn."
The young lady, waking from her nap, muttered a curse with a sullen expression.
"Mmph."
I placed a piece of fruit into the mouth of the young lady, who was staring blankly at the ceiling with tired eyes, and asked,
"Why are you suddenly cursing?"
"A pig appeared in my dream."
"Isn’t that a good on?"
The young lady shook her head and replied,
"I was the pig."
"...?"
"I was wearing pig pajamas and eating at."
"Oh..."
The young lady, looking dejected, said,
"But I like dragon pajamas better..."
"...?"
"I wanted to wear dragon pajamas."
"Surely, that’s not why you cursed, is it?"
The young lady looked at with an expression that asked why I was even questioning sothing so obvious and said,
"It is."
She had the strangest desires.
I stuffed an apple into the mouth of the young lady, a pioneer of fashion, to silence her. If I listened to her philosophy any longer, I might actually buy her dragon pajamas.
"Munch, munch..."
The young lady chewed on the apple and looked at , seemingly enjoying it.
"Ricardo, you should eat so too."
"I’m fine, thank you."
"What, are you trying to make a pig?"
"Aren’t you already one?"
"...Oink."
"Pfft, hahaha!!!"
Her sudden attempt at cuteness made burst into laughter. It was so unexpected, coming from her.
What kind of noble was this?
"Don’t laugh."
More like a neighborhood friend.
"Stop laughing!"
"Pfft, no."
"Ugh!"
I easily dodged the young lady’s flailing fists with a small smile.
"I’m not a pig!"
"I know. Oink... Pfft... Hahaha!"
"Why are you laughing!"
"I an... how can I not laugh when it’s so funny!"
"Stop it!"
After what felt like ages of bickering, a soft ’tap’ against the window drew her attention. She turned her head and said to ,
"Ricardo."
"Yes..."
"It’s raining."
And then.
-Ssshhh...
A sudden chill prompted to turn my head toward the window.
"It is. It’s raining."
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