Sir Jericho remained silent.
He may have looked perfectly fine on the outside. It was a change that would be difficult to notice if one had low observance or hadn’t been paying attention to him in general.
But I could tell.
His once fiercely arched eyebrows now lazily maintained a straight line, and the corners of his tightly-closed mouth trembled slightly.
His golden eyes, which used to shine clearly without any impurities and fully reflect the image of the person facing him, now reflected nothing.
Nothing at all. Just an abyssal orange, reminiscent of a twilight sky at sunset.
I disliked that gaze. It was too deep, and I could not fathom it. It was the kind of look I absolutely did not want to confront.
And this appearance of Sir Jericho…
Though he strained with all his might to maintain an outward semblance of solidity, he was unable to prevent the collapse of his inner self, leaving behind only a polished shell…
No, his current state was one that was deteriorating in real-time.
‘…He’s similar.’
Unsettlingly similar to my past self… or perhaps, to my present self.
“Sir Jericho.”
I couldn’t simply sit and watch Sir Jericho like that.
“I’ve lost most of the comrades I knew.”
“…”
“Do you know how they died?”
“…I don’t.”
The tightly closed mouth opened, and Sir Jericho’s voice came out, sounding like a wounded beast’s low growl.
“How would I know?”
“That’s right. Sir Jericho wouldn’t know.”
“…Listen here, Professor. If you are going to offer some preposterous consolation—”
“But I remember everything.”
Sir Jericho’s gaze turned towards me. There was a hint of surprise. It wasn’t just because I had interrupted him.
“I remember everything. Everything.”
I slowly leaned back into the sofa. The soft cushions of the sofa engulfed my body.
In that comfortable, half-reclined position on the sofa, I allowed the weight of my heavy eyelids, which sought to shield my vision, to take over. Darkness enveloped me.
“I had a friend named Private Jeffrey. We sometimes called him Jeff.”
“…”
“Due to the wall of the trench that Private Jeffrey was leaning against collapsing, he was pinned beneath logs and dirt. We couldn’t rescue him right away, as combat was ongoing. We were initially unaware that he was buried under the pile of dirt and logs.”
“…Private Jeffrey is dead?”
“…The late-found Private Jeffrey was nothing but a hand protruding from the muck, mixed with the muddy mound and decaying logs.”
Sir Jericho’s mouth slowly closed. As he stared at me with trembling eyes, I brought up a different story this time.
“There was Sergeant Anthony too. We called him ‘Tony’ with affection. Sergeant Anthony was skilled with his hands, and I still remember how perfectly he repaired trampled and broken barbed wire.”
“…That friend…?”
“He died. Hit by a blind bullet from the enemy.”
Here, I paused my story momentarily. It wasn’t that I had run out of things to speak about.
The more I spoke, the more nausea bubbled within me. I felt cold sweat trickling down my chin, and a chill spread through my body, shaking me.
Seeing my condition, Sir Jericho cautiously opened his mouth.
“…Are you alright?”
“Ah, yes. I’m fine. It’s nothing. Just…”
“Just?”
Taking a slow, deep breath, I inhaled the fresh air. My churning stomach began to settle.
“…Never mind. It’s nothing.”
“…”
As I stopped talking, Sir Jericho also fell silent. We sat in silence, listening only to the ticking of the clock.
“…Professor.”
After a long time, it was Sir Jericho who broke the silence. I gazed at him intently.
“Yes. Sir Jericho.”
“Isn’t it hard to bring up such stories?”
“Of course…”
Isn’t it hard to recall those ties that no longer exist in this world?
The answer came out immediately.
“It is hard. And it hurts.”
“…It hurts.”
“Yes. It hurts. A lot… to the point where I don’t even want to think about it.”
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by the urge to smoke. I glanced at the cigarette pack on the distant desk, continuing my words.
“But, Sir Jericho. Just because it hurts to speak of those memories doesn’t justify hiding them away. Do you know what happens then?”
“…What happens?”
“They fester from the inside. Slowly, but surely.”
“…”
There was nothing more to say. Neither did I nor Sir Jericho.
After a moment of staring at me intently, Sir Jericho finally let out a deep sigh and lowered his head. His beard trembled slightly.
“…I understand. Professor Antorelli.”
“…”
“I’ve really… listened well. Yes, I see. It festers from within… I had never thought of that.”
“I hope my humble advice has been of help to you, Sir Jericho.”
“…I’ve been curious about this since the first time we met. Why are you sharing these stories with me?”
“The reason is…”
Why am I telling Sir Jericho such things? Or is there even a need for a reason?
“I’m not doing this just out of benevolence, Sir.”
“Then what? I don’t know what you’ve been through, and you don’t know what I’ve gone through either. You haven’t uttered a word about me.”
“This conversation… it’s also for my sake.”
Sir Jericho fell silent again. From my upright position, I couldn’t clearly see his eyes, so I couldn’t tell if he was looking down or somewhere else.
“Sir. You must know all too well how it feels to lose something precious.”
“…I know too well, and that’s the problem.”
“What did it feel like?”
“It felt like I completely lost my direction in life.”
Sir Jericho raised his head. The hue of his eyes deepened, not the bright golden color it once was, but now a shade closer to orange, akin to amber.
“I didn’t want that either. Looking back, I may have lacked the desire to be independent at that time.”
“I understand.”
“That person told me, ‘It’s not that you weren’t mature, but that you’re still a child.’ And now that I think about it… that statement seems to hold true.”
“…”
“I might truly be… still a child.”
“What do you think is the reason for that?”
Sir Jericho closed his eyes. His eyelids slowly descended like a curtain.
“That’s… that’s…”
“…”
Sir Jericho was silent for a while. He faltered with his lips, as if he were chewing on something, but his tightly shut lips showed no sign of parting.
“I don’t know yet.”
“…Is that so.”
“Yeah. I… I don’t want to share everything with you, Professor.”
Moments later, Sir Jericho’s once wide-open eyes gleamed sharply again, like a beast anticipating its prey.
“At least, I don’t know right now. Professor.”
“That’s okay.”
“The conversation has veered off course. It seems we’ve chatted a little too long. We still have matters that need to be addressed, don’t we?”
“If you think so, then yes. It seems that way.”
“It’s not just seeming, it is so.”
“Understood.”
Sir Jericho began rummaging in his coat. The black coat flared around his hands, and soon, three photographs emerged from his grasp.
“I believe these two are the ones I showed you before. Correct?”
“That’s right. I remember you taking them out when we met last time.”
“I’ll ask you one last time. Do you not recognize these two?”
The two photographs indicated by Sir Jericho featured men and women posed in front of weapons, resembling siblings so much that one might believe they were related.
But I still did not know who they were. I shook my head.
“I don’t recognize them.”
“…These two are arms traffickers who sold bombs to Cesar Li and his crew.”
“I’ve never heard of that. More importantly, is it permissible for you to tell me that?”
“There’s no benefit in hiding information. I can’t torture you, and you’d only deny it even if I asked several times. Rather, it would be wiser to expose the information and observe your reaction afterward.”
With that, Sir Jericho scrutinized me. I gazed at him just as I always did.
“And… you seem unfazed.”
“That’s because I genuinely do not know those two people.”
“If you truly didn’t know… then look at this photograph.”
This time, he indicated a black-and-white photo of Cesar Li awkwardly smiling.
Set against a backdrop of a dirt wall blocked by logs, with a glimpse of barbed wire above, it looked like a photograph taken during a trench experience with a photographer. I examined it closely.
“You said you served in the same unit as Cesar Li.”
“That’s correct.”
“When I returned to the Order’s branch and checked, that turned out to be true. I traced Cesar Li’s service record and found your name.”
“Then…”
“However, it doesn’t provide any decisive clues. Rather, it’s now apparent that you’ve known each other for longer than we suspect, making it less strange for us to harbor further suspicions…”
Trailing off, Sir Jericho started to gather the scattered photographs on the table and then stood up. As he knelt down to rise, his sizable figure cast a long shadow.
“Let’s leave it at that for today.”
“Do you have something else to attend to?”
“It’s nothing of the sort.”
“I don’t mind continuing the questioning until the end.”
“Questioning…”
Sir Jericho stroked his beard, deep in thought. Just as his silence started to stretch, he seemed to gaze off into the distance.
“…If we conduct overly harsh questioning all at once, the suspect may be compelled to confess falsely. There might be what they call a coerced confession.”
“I wouldn’t…”
“Regardless, let’s call it a day. Thank you for your cooperation.”
With that, Sir Jericho exited the main priest’s office without allowing me a chance to respond.
“I’ll see you next time.”
As if fleeing from something.
*
“Huuh… Huh…”
Rough breaths escaped me as if exhaled in one go. My breathing became steep as if I had just finished running.
I wanted to hear Professor Antorelli’s story. And for some reason, just moments ago, Sir Jericho had felt a strong impulse to share his story.
Unable to withstand it, he fled the main priest’s office like a runaway.
The reason for changing the subject to ‘what needed to be done’ was also for that same cause. Sir Jericho was afraid of the intangible emotions swirling in his mind.
He was scared. Scared of knowing things he didn’t understand, and scared to even think about a future he dared not imagine.
And, and…
“…Damn it.”
Sir Jericho swallowed dryly and headed to the reception room where Nina and Sofia Sub-priest were. He wanted to return to the Order’s branch as quickly as possible. He was scared to remain here.
Like a large child. It was truly…
– Nina isn’t mature enough to interrupt this conversation.
It was undeniably an immature act.
