Chapter 4: The Object of My Affection

Simon had fallen for Clint around last autumn.

At that time, he knew absolutely nothing about the man named Clint.

Simon was in a foul mood that day as he was on his way to the hospital.

To make matters worse, the road was congested, and just as he was trying to swallow his rising anger and frustration, he happened to look out the carriage window.

That was the first time Simon saw Clint Evan.

Clint was lying by the riverside, half-propped up.

The autumn sun beat down, casting a long shadow behind him.

He looked comfortable, with his jacket tossed aside and his collar unbuttoned without a tie, as if the riverbank were his own bedroom.

Simon had been taught his whole life that such attire was unseemly, but at that moment, Clint looked—how should he put it—free.

Every time he gazed steadily at the river and blinked slowly, his green eyes would disappear and then reappear.

In Simon’s eyes, it was as if the word ‘freedom’ had taken human form and appeared before him.

Simon fell in love with that man at first sight that day.

Afterward, Simon looked into Clint in his own way.

His name was Clint Evan.

His age was estimated to be in his mid-twenties.

It was impossible to know where he was born or in what environment he grew up.

This was because he was an outsider, a rarity in this region.

The only way to know his background was through what came out of his own mouth, but he didn’t talk much about himself.

He had suddenly appeared in this area toward the end of last summer and set up a detective agency in the city.

Although he introduced himself as a detective, he didn’t seem very serious about the profession.

The work he did amounted to things like finding an old lady’s runaway cat, and he mostly spent his time wandering aimlessly or idling by the riverside.

Despite that, he never seemed to be short on money.

He was an outsider, held a suspicious job as a detective, and his appearance and behavior were free-spirited.

Many of the conservative and exclusive locals looked at him with cold eyes.

In particular, people in the high society to which Simon belonged found him even more unpleasant.

This was because he disrupted the order of the local community with his disreputable attire and attitude, poking around here and there for no reason.

Dalton had insulted him during a meal, so Simon knew a few rumors about him.

They were all bad rumors, like him being a bank robber or a leader of a gang that once ruled the area.

Nevertheless, Simon’s love showed no signs of fading.

Clint was a free man, and in Simon’s eyes, Clint—who lived life as himself despite being insulted by others—was simply wonderful.

As time went on, his feelings for him only grew.

However, until his death, he had no connection with Clint.

They were the type who wouldn’t even exchange a greeting if they happened to cross paths.

Simon lacked courage, and there was zero overlap in their lives to look for an opportunity.

Then, around this autumn, Clint vanished as suddenly as he had arrived.

No one knew why or where he went.

He disappeared just like mist vanishing when the wind blows.

‘I cried a lot back then.’

He remembered struggling to cry without others knowing.

He was so heartbroken that he couldn’t even leave his bed for a week.

After returning to the past, he had even written ‘Evan’ at the very top of his wish notebook and put a star next to it.

There were so many things he wanted regarding him that he couldn’t even write them all down.

But to meet him so suddenly like this?

Of course, he had intended to meet him.

But this was too sudden.

He hadn’t even prepared himself mentally!

Not knowing what to do, Simon looked at Lizzie, then checked his face in the window for no reason, and toyed with his sleeves.

“Are you alright? Your face is red.”

Simon touched the back of his hand to his cheek.

It felt hot.

‘You decided not to run away, Simon Grayan. You can do this! You’re the miracle man who returned from death!’

Simon took a long, deep breath and reaffirmed his resolve.

I can do this, let’s go!

“Alright. Let’s go!”

Simon threw open the carriage door with a grim determination as if heading into battle.

‘So I’m finally going in here.’

Simon often came near this place.

Most of his outings over the past year were for the purpose of coming here.

He had frequented a small second-hand bookstore opposite Clint’s agency just to catch a glimpse of him from afar.

If he stood by the window pretending to look at books and waited, he could occasionally see Clint passing by.

On those days, he was so happy that he would buy up even the dust-covered books in the corner that weren’t selling, so the bookstore owner liked Simon very much.

As Simon stepped out of the carriage, the bookstore owner recognized him and opened the door with a bright smile.

However, when Simon entered the cafe instead of the bookstore, the owner’s expression turned as if he had lost the world.

Unaware that the bookstore owner had gone between heaven and hell, Simon tipped his hat slightly to the cafe owner and went inside the building.

As he crossed the cafe interior, a spiral staircase leading to the second floor appeared.

Simon climbed up to the second floor spiritedly.

The stairs were steep, and it was only after panting for a long time that he managed to reach the top.

There was a definite joy at the end of the hardship.

When he rang the doorbell, he heard the sound of footsteps from inside.

Simon’s heart was beating so hard it felt stiff.

The door opened, and Clint appeared.

He had black hair and clear green eyes.

His hair was a bit long for a man.

On anyone else, it would have looked messy, but combined with Clint’s handsome features, it was uniquely attractive.

It went well with his comfortable attire of a white shirt and trousers, and Simon momentarily lost his senses.

“Simon Grayan?”

Clint had a surprised expression upon seeing Simon.

Simon was equally surprised.

“You know me?”

He never imagined Clint would know who he was!

Is this a dream?

Simon stared blankly at Clint’s face, feeling dazed.

He had always seen him from a distance, but seeing him up close, he was even more handsome.

“…Yes, well. You are a famous person.”

“Ah… I see.”

Simon was indeed a celebrity in this area.

It had been in the newspapers when he inherited the massive fortune and businesses of the Grayan family at seventeen.

But that was years ago, and he wasn’t to the point where people would recognize him just by his face now.

Is it because he’s a detective? Simon admired his incredible eye for detail.

“Please, come inside for now.”

Clint held the door and stepped slightly to the side.

Simon tilted his head to express gratitude and brushed past him.

A scent reminiscent of the smell of a summer breeze tickled the tip of his nose.

At Clint’s body scent, Simon’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a breath, holding it.

Clint guided Simon to the sofa.

“Please sit for a moment. I’ll bring something to drink.”

Clint disappeared somewhere inside the office.

Simon looked around as he waited for him.

Simon had imagined Clint’s detective agency in his own way.

He thought there might be exotic items collected from various travels that revealed the owner’s leanings, or a side stacked with books that would show Clint’s tastes—all scattered about in a messy way fitting his free-spirited nature.

He used to indulge in all sorts of such imaginings.

However, the reality was the exact opposite.

The office was so desolate it felt barren; there was nothing in it.

In the large rectangular space, the only furniture was a sofa, a table, a desk, a chair, and a cabinet.

Let alone decorations that might hint at the owner’s taste, there wasn’t even a carpet, so it didn’t feel like a space someone was using.

Simon suddenly remembered the time Clint had left.

He had vanished one day, suddenly and without any warning, along with the autumn wind.

Looking at the office scenery, it seemed entirely possible he could do that again.

Did Clint fail to grow fond of this city?

It was a town that was hard to like.

It was far from the capital, and the people were exclusive and extremely conservative.

It had been a long time since the Lord had looked after the fief, so there were many small problems.

Still, he felt it was a bit lonely that Clint looked ready to leave at any moment despite having stayed for a year.

He thought it might be a good idea to use the help he was about to receive as an excuse to gift him a piece of furniture that was too expensive and heavy to easily discard.

At the very least, Clint might contact him once before leaving just to deal with that furniture.

While he was thinking about this and that, Clint came out with tea and refreshments.

Surprisingly, the teacups and dishes were well-matched, which was curious.

He had an image of someone who would just use any mismatched cup.

Clint sat across from Simon.

In the meantime, he had changed his shirt and put on a jacket, appearing a bit more formal.

It was a pity, but rather a relief.

Simon was so shy he didn’t know what to do with himself just facing Clint; if his attire had been the same as before, Simon might have had to bolt out of the office.

As Simon’s gaze darted around nervously, Clint spoke up.

“There isn’t much here, is there?”

“Pardon?”

“You seem disappointed that it isn’t a den of evil like the rumors say.”

There were indeed rumors that Clint’s office was a hotbed of illegal activity.

That it was dirty and decadent?

In reality, far from being dirty, it was so clean it was bleak.

“I’m Clint Evan. Please call me Clint.”

“Ah, yes. I’m Simon Grayan. Though you seem to know that already….”

Clint reached out his hand.

Contrary to the rumors of him being a thug, he was polite.

Simon shook his hand, putting all his strength into his own so as not to tremble.

I held Clint’s hand!

Simon felt like his heart was going to jump out of his mouth.

He couldn’t look him straight in the eye, so he awkwardly stared at the rim of his own teacup.

“What brings you here?”

Hearing his voice made him feel dizzy.

Can a person die from being too nervous?

His chest throbbed so much he was worried about an early heart attack.

It was so bad that Lizzie, standing behind Simon, poked him in the back with her finger to tell him to answer quickly.

Simon managed to recall his business and blurted it out.

“There is someone I would like you to find. Marriott Rut, she’s a butler who used to work at my manor.”

“Ah, I know who that is.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know her personally, but I know her nephew a bit. He helps me with my work occasionally.”

As expected of a detective, he has broad connections. Simon marveled inwardly.

Simon admired Clint once again.

He was worthy of being called a detective!

As an avid reader of detective novels, Simon acknowledged this.

Simon’s eyes sparkled with expectation.

“Can we go see her right now?”

“You intend to meet Ms. Rut?”

“Of course!”

“It’s not a difficult task… but I wonder how it will be on Ms. Rut’s end….”

“Pardon?”