Right at that moment, Alphard's concentration broke as Helena burst into the room, home far earlier than usual. The bright smile lighting up her face had less to do with the joy of seeing her beloved brother, and more with the fact that she had the afternoon free to practice Alphard's made-up language.
For a moment, the young man genuinely considered the possibility that his sister wasn't herself at all, but had instead been possessed by the spirit of an eight-year-old.
Helena stood out for an intensely extroverted personality, matching, word for word, what the original Alphard had recorded about her in his diary.
Though he didn't share that same disposition, he loved her sincerely and always looked out for her wellbeing; it was precisely that constant, steady protection that let her show herself so openly and freely around both her uncle and her brother.
I love seeing her this happy, but honestly, I don't have the energy for this right now.
"No," Alphard answered, flat and final.
It wasn't coldness driving the answer, but a need to set clear boundaries around the teaching method he'd planned to follow with her. Unsatisfied with the response, Helena frowned and crossed her arms before stalking off to the bed, where she settled in and fixed him with an accusing stare.
Despite the storm of doubts still gnawing at Alphard's mind after an exhausting day, her little tantrum struck him as so endearing that he couldn't help but laugh, which only made her irritation flare hotter.
"We already set a fixed schedule, Helena. Can't you see your brother's completely worn out from work?"
"I'm tired too, you know, and I still worry about you," Helena said, looking away to one side.
A long sigh gave away Alphard's surrender, and he finally gave in to her insistence. He rose, walked over to the bed at an easy pace, and ruffled his sister's hair before speaking:
"Fine. I'll give you the lessons. But my price is that you make me an onion soup with demon spice. I need to prove to uncle I've got more nerve than he does."
Helena's frustration vanished instantly, replaced by a bright, ringing laugh that filled the room.
"Deal. Though I highly doubt it — you can't even remember to turn off the gas lamp before you fall asleep!"
"Anyone could forget that," Alphard answered, scratching the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.
Not long after, the two of them made their way to the sitting room; though from the rhythm of the creaking staircase, it was more than clear Helena was leading the charge, buzzing with excitement.
Helena settled comfortably onto the sofa, and Alphard took a seat beside her. With a small scrap of paper resting on his lap, he began sketching out basic words like "hello" or "good morning," followed by a handful of everyday phrases.
For her, all of this was nothing more than a fun little foray into her brother's imaginary world; for Alphard, though, it represented a perfect cipher — something any stranger would mistake for some ancient, forgotten language.
Aware of the tool's enormous tactical potential, and given his deep-seated wariness of the outside world, he made a firm decision: Helena would be the only person on the entire planet he'd ever teach that language to.
The hours passed, and though Helena had only picked up the basics so far, Alphard realized they needed to put the language into practice. He proposed a clear rule: from that point on, any truly important conversation would be conducted in Japanese.
Even having thrown out the planned teaching structure entirely, she exceeded his expectations, quickly mastering both the writing and pronunciation of everything she'd learned so far.
As the lesson wound down, the sunset's glow spilled across the room. The orange tint painting the sky instantly brought the gem's surface to mind, marking the day's close.
Well into the night, he climbed up to his room and lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Those boards above his head felt like a constant reminder of his current place in this world, but they also fed the quiet faith that all of it was temporary — that sooner or later, he'd find his way back home.
The next morning arrived, and the routine unfolded with its usual calm. After finishing his morning chores, Alphard readied himself for work. Helena had already left for her classes, and Alexi was off at work too, leaving the house wrapped in an even heavier solitude than usual.
Walking through the streets, he suddenly ran into Virginia, who eyed him with a hint of puzzlement.
"Morning, Alphard. What are you doing out here?"
"Morning. Just on my way to work."
"Oh, that's wonderful to hear. By the way — Helena mentioned you'd been teaching her some made-up language of yours... don't you think you're a little too old for something like that?"
An inexplicable wave of embarrassment hit Alphard, as if he'd been struck down in front of a crowd with no way to defend himself. Still, his expression hardened almost instantly, his tone turning dry and distant:
"That's really none of your concern. It's a matter between siblings."
Virginia, with her usual air of condescension, let out a couple of dismissive giggles. As Alphard fought to keep his composure, he noticed something odd about her: she wore a necklace shaped like a key without a lock. Still, chalking the detail up to her generally eccentric taste, he decided not to give it much thought.
"Well, whatever," she added lightly. "I hope everything works out and you're able to come back home."
Alphard froze.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked immediately, sensing she was hiding something.
"Nothing at all. Can't I wish well on someone I know?" Virginia answered with an enigmatic smile. "Helena would be devastated if you never came back."
Virginia walked off, leaving behind a strange tightness in Alphard's chest. This girl, supposedly his sister's closest friend, gave off the unmistakable feeling of being someone entirely different underneath; almost as though a mask had replaced whoever the real person actually was.
Still, Alphard had barely interacted with her more than a couple of times, leaving him with no real basis to judge whether that coldness was simply her normal manner. Even so, knowing his sister's warm nature, it struck him as deeply out of place that she'd chosen someone like that as a close friend.
Determined not to get tangled up in baseless speculation, Alphard set the matter aside and kept walking toward work. The streets, though, didn't seem willing to grant him a single moment's peace.
Halfway there, he ran into another unexpected presence: Marcel, walking in the opposite direction toward home, his brow furrowing with unmistakable displeasure the instant he spotted him.
That look of rejection dredged up a critical detail in Alphard's memory: Marcel's role in Charlotte's cover story. She'd assured Helena and his uncle that he'd spent the night at Marcel's place, celebrating the Dance of Heroes together.
What made it worse was that Marcel had backed the story without a moment's hesitation when Helena had tried to press him for confirmation.
Did Helena say something to him?
"Hey, Marcel. How've you been?"
"Honestly? Disappointed in you."
"Why's that?" he asked, feigning confusion.
"Why do you think? Helena told me you said we were with my family for the Dance of Heroes together. She got really upset — and on top of that, she looked at me like I was some kind of villain."
Alphard kept his face carefully blank for a few seconds, scrambling for a way to slip out of this. Buried under the avalanche of recent discoveries, he'd completely forgotten to reach out to Marcel and get their stories straight on the fake alibi.
Still, shoved beneath a mountain of conspiracies and mortal danger, that childhood friendship had inevitably slipped further and further into the background.
Digging through his own thoughts, an idea suddenly lit up like a bulb in a dark room.
"I'm sorry, I really am — it wasn't intentional. I was working that night when some guys jumped me, knocked me out, and took everything I had, though there wasn't much money to take. I woke up in a stranger's house in the early morning, and they helped me get back home. I just made up that excuse for Helena so she wouldn't worry."
Marcel narrowed his eyes, weighing the sincerity written across Alphard's face. He knew excuses didn't erase the fact that he'd had to lie in the first place, but he understood well enough that not every family reacted the same way, and Helena had never needed much provocation to get worked up.
"Be grateful I'm feeling patient today, because otherwise you'd have gotten a punch out of this," Marcel said, arching an eyebrow, his tone stern but resigned. "Anyway, I get where you're coming from. But to settle the debt, you owe me a coffee."
"Consider it done," Alphard answered.
Without another word of farewell, Marcel continued on his way. Alphard stood frozen for a moment, staring up at the sky with a faint sense of bewilderment, weighed down by the bitter certainty of just how difficult it was to keep up the mask of a life that had never truly been his own.