Chapter 2.7

When Cyril looked at him, the young man’s lips curved gently into a smile.

“I missed.”

Unclenching the fingers that had reached for the ribbon’s end, the young man clicked his tongue in playful disappointment.

“You’re more agile than I expected. I should’ve grabbed your hand first instead of underestimating you.”

If anything, Cyril should have been the one to say that. The young man moved as soundlessly as a cat. It seemed the young man had been calculating the distance between them all along while fixating on his hand.

His gaze still lingered near Cyril’s neck.

“I was curious about what you’re hiding beneath that ribbon… that’s all.”

Beneath the disappointed tone, there was a subtle layer of irritation.

Cyril calmly replied.

“It’s nothing.”

“Is that so?”

“This ribbon is—”

“Oh, I heard already. From over there in the corner.”

The young man raised both hands as if telling him he didn’t need to explain.

“A memento from your mother, wasn’t it? She must’ve been quite the wealthy woman, for you to walk around draped in silk embroidered with gold dust instead of cheap nylon satin.”

Clicking his tongue inwardly, Cyril gave a pleasant smile.

“It was my father who bought it for me. He was an extraordinarily wealthy man. so…”

This time, it was the young man who laughed. His ash-gray eyes curved in delight.

“Of course. That must be the case. If that ribbon truly is a memento, as you say.”

“……”

“Oh. I didn’t say it was an outright lie. She did. And she probably heard it from you. Isn’t that right?”

The young man tilted his head as he spoke. Cyril had no choice but to answer with a composed, “That’s right.”

Perhaps pleased with the flat reply, the young man’s eyes softened, and he stepped back from the bar counter.

“Not bad. Don’t worry. I won’t go after it anymore.”

And just like that, his interest in the ribbon seemed to vanish completely. In that short moment, Cyril realized something. This young man was quite capricious, and his standards for changing moods were a little different from most.

What had just satisfied him?

“No way, no way.”

Now that the small conflict had passed, Xara and Astor burst into laughter at the same time.

“Cyril’s cat used to go after that ribbon too, since the end flutters so much. She’d jump from the ceiling, leap out of cupboards… But she never managed to catch it, not once.”

The two each added a comment in turn.

“Don’t even bother wondering if it’s really a memento. How many different stories have I heard about that ribbon? All lies, probably.”

“Someone once told me I had to wear a gold ribbon if I wanted to leave a strong impression. It’s for attracting customers—a marketing trick. The Kyrie bartender’s signature look.”

Hearing this, the young man tilted his head slightly.

“Was the cat’s name Rune…? I thought I’d be better than her.”

“Nope. If we’re talking cuteness, Rune wins by far.”

Astor replied playfully, and Xara chimed in.

“That’s right, that’s right.”

Wanting to escape from the center of the conversation, Cyril quickly added,

“No one can beat Rune.”

The young man stared at Cyril for a moment. Then he gave a dry smile and shrugged.

“Well, I suppose that can’t be helped. I’ve long since graduated from being called ‘cute’.”

His tone had grown much more relaxed, but Cyril still couldn’t completely lower his guard. He wasn’t one to talk, but that smile of the young man’s—there was nothing natural about it.

Unlike the casually curving lips, his ash-gray eyes rarely smiled. He wasn’t just difficult, he was something else entirely.

Who was this guy?

Besides Rani, there were plenty of dangerous people who came to this place. Human hunters, contract killers, organ traffickers. Cyril had grown used to their bizarre professions over time, but not a single one of them was anything like this young man.

Which meant… Cyril couldn’t even guess what kind of person he was. He even looked far removed from a life of hardship. Clearly an Uptown resident. Then again, just because someone didn’t do cruel things didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. So Cyril decided he might as well figure out his objective.

“You mentioned you were looking for someone?”

To that, the young man gave a nod as an answer.

“Then wouldn’t it be better to go to a shelter? If you’re looking for a missing person, there are more suitable places than here.”

“No, it’s not exactly that they’re missing—”

The young man was just about to respond to Cyril’s question when—

CRASH!

A loud clatter came from the direction of the hallway leading to the restroom. The source, of course, was Rani. Whether he’d tripped over something or misjudged the floor level, he stumbled forward and ran toward Cyril. Sweat poured down his pale face like rain.

“C-Cyril! The—the restroom!”

“The restroom?”

Cyril repeated, and Rani gave a full-body shudder before screaming.

“There’s someone in the restroom!”

Though it was clearly a desperate cry, all Cyril could do was furrow his brow.

Kyrie’s restroom had the men’s and women’s stalls side by side. Separated by a wall, but still in the same space.

“Of course. Miss Simo is in the women’s restroom right now…”

…probably vomiting.

“No, she’s not!”

Rani shouted again. Pointing toward the restroom, he cried out once more.

“There’s a person collapsed on the floor! I saw fingers sticking out from the gap underneath!”

Only then did Cyril understand Rani’s words.

Miss Simo collapsed? Her hand on the floor?

“Ah.”

The young man from Uptown beside him let out a short murmur. Cyril turned to look at him, who then muttered regretfully,

“Not really the right time for you to listen to what I have to say, is it?”

Even though I’ve been waiting for a long time.

His voice left an oddly long echo in Cyril’s mind.

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