Rumours (5)

Leonardo was still standing outside the door. He lingered there as if he couldn't enter, merely projecting his voice inside.

"I told you. I'm expecting you to help solve our 'family' issues."

"I was surprised because I didn't know Leovald was included in that family."

"Calm down. It doesn't necessarily mean blood relation."

Leonardo waved his hand, as if to soothe my surprise, and added, "Apparently, it was something my father planned to bring back from an expedition someday. It's not that strange for a noble family to adopt someone. Well, I understand. I was surprised too when I first heard about it."

"…You heard about it?"

Leonardo leaned casually against the doorframe. It might have been a relaxed position before, but realizing that he couldn't comfortably rest his head against it because he had built up muscle, he quickly adjusted his stance.

"Yeah. I heard about it. Honestly, I don't really think of him as my brother. I mean, how could I? He's supposed to be some heroic figure I've never even met."

"…What do you mean by 'heard about it'?"

"I learned about it when I decided to lend my body, during the process of forming the deal."

Leonardo began to stammer and struggle with his words, as if he were under some kind of pressure.

He then stepped back and shook his head. "This damn mouth of mine is the problem. Let's go back. Just be careful not to let anyone find out about what happened here. There's nothing good that can come from getting caught, right?"

Original Leonardo shrugged his shoulders lightly. He was right. This abandoned stage set was a remnant of the fate that should have been reserved for Leovald. But with the emergence of Sub-writer 1 and Godric, the entire future had become muddled.

I couldn't help but wonder how Leonardo would react if he learned all of this. He shouldn't even have a reason to react in the first place. This world was shaped as a stage, constructed to make him the subject of the story. And from the very beginning, the story had been continuously warning me.

[Act naturally so that they do not perceive the discrepancies in the world of the play.]

Don't get caught.

The world is shaped solely for one person, pushing that character into the depths of despair, subjecting them to trials. This world gives them victories, small achievements, and conflicts, only to grant them what they desire at the very end. You must not let them discover that.

"That's right. It's something that shouldn't be found out. I guess it's an exception for you, though."

"I'm dead, remember? I'm free."

Leonardo spoke in a tone that was almost coldly decisive. He then gestured for me to follow him, stepping away from the door.

I took one last look at the room that the owner might not even have known existed. The props on the stage, which had never been used and would never be used again, remained just as they were.

In the corners that couldn't be reached, dust had settled, and the items left on the shelves and in the drawers bore the usual wear and tear, as objects do when touched by human hands.

And on the bed, unlike the neatly kept current version of Leonardo, the bedding was slightly disheveled. There were clothes belonging to a boy who had now grown into a young man, clothes that were no longer needed, and shoes that were considerably smaller compared to the present ones.

With a click, as I closed the door behind me, the nameplate hanging on it began to lose its shape, turning to ash and scattering into the air.

But that wasn't all.

The entire door melted away as if being cleared, or like the fog wiped off a window, and soon it dissolved into fine powder. I stood there, staring blankly at the light, airy remnants dispersing before me, when it suddenly dawned on me.

This place is a world based on a play, where everything has already been written or is yet to be written. In such a place, the reason that everything that disappears, is forgotten, and dies turns to ashes and scatters is…

I closed my eyes and recalled the rough texture of the script in my hand. The paper, worn and tattered from being read countless times and underlined, had corners that were easily frayed and soft to the touch.

I rolled up a thick bundle of the paper and swung it like a conductor's baton, breathing life into the lines etched into my mind, giving them expressions and overlaying voices. And then, I acted.

In that moment, the characters, who had no faces or voices inscribed on the ground, breathed and were granted life. I remembered the creaking, crying floorboards beneath my feet. The heavy wooden stage that bore the weight of the characters running, falling, and walking.

When they ran, the floor produced a hollow sound. Each time their feet struck, there was a squeaky friction noise, like a large instrument being played. When the well-polished stage was illuminated by dazzling spotlights, it reflected the light and sparkled, transforming into whatever place one could imagine—sometimes like a snowy landscape, other times like the fine sand of a desert, or the unfathomable depths of the ocean. It was a place where both good dreams and bad nightmares could be had. A story inscribed on paper, acted out on a wooden stage.

In the end, it was a world made of things that would either burn away or crumble to dust. It was a tale that began with things destined to be shattered into fine particles, turning to dust. And so, I wondered if that was why everything was turning to ashes, this vague thought filling my mind before scattering away.

"It's frightening. They must have erased everything to avoid being discovered," muttered the original Leonardo, leaning against the wall where the door to once existed.

As he leaned back, the sound that echoed was a solid, blocked sound, unmistakably lacking any empty space behind him. I had expected a hollow, resonating sound, but none came.

Could it really be that, as he said, the writers hurriedly erased things to keep the protagonist from discovering secrets? Or had this already abandoned place finally been cleared away in due time?

I didn't know. At this point, it didn't really matter.

The fate that should have been bestowed upon Leovald seven years ago has now vanished along with that room.

"Thanks to you, I understand now."

I grasped the reason for why the Count of Ertinez was so violently disrupted.

Indeed, Godric was correct, as the words of the sub-writer suggested. As merely a character, Godric had a larger motive to ruin the that was beyond his comprehension; he must have been led by someone behind him.

Wait a minute. If that's the case, did the original Leonardo, who was aware of all this, understand that the target of revenge was not just Godric, but that the sub-writer was the root cause of everything?

"Hey, Leo—"

As I turned around, I suddenly locked eyes with a clear silver gaze, glimmering like a lake.

I hadn't noticed due to the silence, but it seemed the original Leonardo had left, and my protagonist had returned. I collided nose-to-nose with the figure approaching from behind.

"Ouch," I muttered, cupping my nose, and Leonardo hurriedly reached out to adjust my nasal bridge. He noticed the tears welling up due to a physiological reaction and looked even more flustered than before.

"Sorry, I was about to ask if something had changed again… Are you okay?"

I looked at him, and a flurry of thoughts surged within me.

Here, you might have lived another life. From the time when you had no name, you could have finally gained those you could call family after enduring life alone.

Ferdinand still seems like a brother to Leonardo, so they must have gotten along well because they have some similarities.

As for the original Leonardo, well, I can't quite imagine it, but in a way, he might have grown up with a bond even closer than that of real brothers, constantly bickering and supporting each other.

Celestina… well, it's said that the younger sibling often gets along well with their older brothers, so she probably would have done just fine.

The Count and Countess of Ertinez would have been good guardians, too. However, all of this remained merely in the realm of imagination.

Leonardo was fussing over my nose, brushing my bangs back, and inspecting it carefully, leaving little room for me to continue my thoughts.

"I'm telling you, it doesn't hurt anymore."

I grumbled while emphasizing that I was fine, and Leonardo relaxed his hand, looking relieved.

"What happened? My last memory was when Lady Celestina came to visit."

"Hmm…"

I definitely couldn't tell him that I had visited the abandoned scenario area of the original Leonardo and the world. I was at a loss for words, so I just made something up.

"Well, it seems the body's owner wanted to visit his own room after a long time. So we just took a quick look around."

Leonardo blinks at me.

It seems he already knows that my words are merely an excuse. Just as I've learned to read his expressions over the long time we've spent together, perhaps Leonardo has also become able to distinguish between when I'm acting and when I'm not.

After all, he has had ample time to study my expressions. It wouldn't have been difficult for him to observe me making various faces during the countless nights I can't remember. Most importantly, these days, I've had less need to play the suspicious informant in front of Leonardo, so it's been a while since I've outright lied like this.

Did it show?

He doesn't press me for an explanation. Instead, he comes closer and gently takes my hand, and when I don't pull away, he lets out a breath that's a mix of relief and something else.

"I think… it's necessary right now."

Leonardo mutters softly. I understand what he means.

As the original Leonardo regains his body, the other Leonardo is left feeling disconnected from his memories and consciousness. He is anxious about the gap between himself and the monster he feels he's become.

And I had promised, hadn't I?

"It's okay, Leo."

Not as Leovald, nor as Leonardo, but to remind him whenever he needs it that he is a person, the Leo I call by name.

I whispered "It's okay," just as he had done for me on those nights when I was plagued by nightmares. It has become clear that the story of Leovald had been off course long before his death, yet even if his path was different, he has become the person standing before me today after navigating his own journey.

You started without a name, lived briefly as "Isaac," wandered, and then, as if summoned, you became a hero, only to face trials and tribulations, be betrayed, and even in death, you still stand here.

I could tell him that is his life.

"There's no doubt about it. You're Leo."

As I quietly asserted this, Leonardo closed his eyes.

"Was that a bit comforting?"

I tried to lighten the mood with a slight smile, and in that moment, he opened his eyes. The silver of his gaze shimmered.

"Very much."