「The Eternal Library」The Cheshire Cat I

Chapter 1 

「1819」*The first Epoch*

"Kid! Hurry! Wake up!" 

A painful sensation of heat lashes against the side of Hoku's leg, like holding a hand too close to the flame of a candle. 

"Hot…" 

"Of course it's hot! I can't simply carry you away, stop mumbling in your sleep and get up!" 

"…" 

"Aish, you must be a log if you manage to doze away with your leg nigh cooked in the flame." 

His body feels incredibly heavy. Hoku must have fallen unconscious, because he hears voices—more than one, perhaps. 

This scenario faintly reminds him of his childhood, a lost memory that stirs an indescribable feeling. 

Shh, let him sleep. 

He feels one of his arms pulled away from the heat, then hears the sound of muffled fabric scuffing a bare surface. 

Am I being dragged? 

He retrieves enough consciousness to process other sounds—a grunt, and the subtle thud of a clunky mass colliding with the same surface. 

"Hm?" 

Hoku feels his hair drape past his ear, and the back of his neck is grazed. 

"That's mine!" A young man with short blonde hair stumbles over Hoku's leg, nearly falling to the ground as he tries to move further away. 

The young man's pupils are encompassed by a color that resembles a rain cloud, making him look far less pitiful than he would have if the trait were less striking. 

Taupe threads of hair are stitched uniformly above the eyelashes, which are light enough to be gold, but thick enough to be noticed from a distance. 

"Heaven's kid! I wasn't stealing it, I was trying to help you before you were caught in flames," the young lad tugs at a white scarf that wraps around his neck. It's an odd display. 

"Who are you? Why are you here?" Hoku asks, using his bent leg to scoot farther from where the young man stands. 

"Why am I here? This is my house! I should be asking you that question," the young man folds his arms behind his back and turns in the other direction. 

… Except he doesn't, because it doesn't matter. 

His house? Who would stay in a place like this… 

"You appear to have become frigid all of a sudden. Is there something wrong?" 

Hoku's mind is riddled with confusion. What could anyone say when they looked around a room that looms with possessions, visibly new? 

Just moments before, there had been nothing—only soot and walls that were softening. 

"Sir?" 

The stairs are in much the same structure, but quality-wise, everything is different. 

This is the same room. Hoku's eyes fall discerningly below the staircase. 

A dark mahogany wooden door stands there, with quaint designs inscribed in the middle of two rectangular shapes that swell outward instead of inward like most doors. 

Most notable about this door, however, is the narrow crack between the hinges and frame. 

The young man stands in front of the knob, but Hoku can detect from the other side that the door is slightly ajar. 

"Have you finally woken up? … Have you gone insensible, or could it be you remember?" 

"Remember what?" Hoku responds, sparing the young man a glance but keeping his focus intently on the walls that surround him. 

"Ah, you're speaking! I assume you are curious about my dwelling if you've come all this way to break in." The young man's accent is British, with clear indications of Welsh origins. 

"What? No—I mean, I was looking for something earlier, but the manor was less…" Hoku looks around the grand room again, detaching once more. 

If he were to seek a method of explaining how the room had regressed before he presumably collapsed onto the floor, he'd have undoubtedly received a humbling response. 

"Less rotten?" 

Hoku swiftly looks in the young man's direction. The young man leans forward slightly when Hoku finally improves his posture and glances up at him. 

"What is going on?" he asks, raising his eyebrows so that they hide further behind his bangs. 

"I know just about as much as you do. Except that I'm supposed to give some kid in a brown raincoat a watch," the young man surveys him curiously with a hum. 

"I would say you fit the description enough. What's your name, by the way, if you don't mind me asking?" He fiddles with a button on his burnished vest, remaining in the same spot near the door. 

"Hoku," he answers bluntly. 

"Hoku? That's an unusual name indeed. I quite expected something else…" 

"What do you mean? What did you assume my name was?" Hoku asks, vaguely furrowing his eyebrows to convey the suspicion seeping through his demeanor. 

"There's no need to be skeptical. I just could never perceive a name like yours. Suppose I should leave my home more. I hardly recognize how to properly interact with strangers," the young man says, one side of his mouth curling up as he gazes at him. 

It's nearly daunting, but then Hoku remembers he's sitting on the floor of the young man's manor. 

He hurriedly stands up from his pitiful position. 

"Haha, I was wondering when you were going to stand up. I suppose you were still faint in the head." 

"What is your name then?" Hoku reckons it would be impolite not to return the question before seeing himself out of this bewildering place. 

"You may refer to me as Polaris—" 

"Like the star?" Hoku interrupts, not thinking. 

"...Sorry, poor habit." 

Polaris clears his throat, prudently raising and lowering his head. 

"Uhm, no worries, but I'm not exactly sure where my name comes from. Neither I nor my parents have had many opportunities for those sorts of conversations." 

"I understand," Hoku replies, bowing his head apologetically. 

"Then I should get going—ah, right. I believe you had something to give me! If now is an acceptable occasion, I wouldn't mind catching a glimpse." 

"It nearly slipped my memory as well, though I can assure you needn't worry—we both have an abundance of time." 

The wooden door's hinges creak bitterly. Polaris leads Hoku down a smaller set of steps that look like thick wooden planks. 

"I fancy your boots, by the way. I've never seen footwear with quite so many… strings," Polaris says, sliding his hand further down the cedar-colored metal stair railing. 

"Shoelaces?" Hoku affirms as they trickle down to the bottom of the steps. 

"That's what those are called, interesting." 

Hoku doesn't quite understand this man. Whether he is joking or being serious—which would be odd, but perhaps not unusual, judging by how he lives alone in a transcendent manor. 

"They are just leather moccasin toes." Hoku glances down at his boots and presses his toe against the top, a small crease forming along the vamp. 

"I haven't a clue what you said past leather," Polaris answers confusedly. 

Polaris slides a hand into his pocket as he stands in front of another door. He pulls a silver key from his pocket and pushes it into the empty keyhole. 

This door is different. The wood is dingy, with greenish-blue blemishes sprawling from the bottom to the middle hinges. 

This door's condition doesn't quite complement the room upstairs, but the cluttered room beyond the door does. 

"I thought you were leading me into a wine chamber…" Hoku says, raising his chin to peek over Polaris's shoulder. 

"A wine chamber? More like a neglected study," Polaris responds, moving aside and pushing the door open with his back. 

"After you~" 

Exactly how long has it been since anyone set foot in this room? The entire space smells of rust and… cigarette smoke. 

"Do you smoke?" 

Hoku turns to glance at Polaris, who has already closed the door. Polaris is on the opposite side of the room near a wall of bookcases. 

Perhaps the only thing that is passably neat are the books sorted by size, with the tallest against the wall and the shortest in the middle. 

Otherwise, the room is coated in heaps of dust. 

"Do I impart such an impression to you?" Polaris raises his eyebrows, though the stillness of his features reveals sarcasm in his reply. 

Fluster creeps into Hoku's cheeks, and he frantically waves his hands in front of his face. 

"None taken." Polaris chuckles, framing his hand over the curve of his lips. 

"Though for clarity, I do not smoke. The last owner, however…" 

He hesitates, caressing the space on the shelf with his other hand. 

"Never mind. I'll stow that conversation for another time." 

"Ah—alright then." Hoku's not normally this polite, though it's likely he's maintaining a humble attitude to avoid reminding Polaris of the appropriate response to a break-in. 

He must have a few screws loose… poor man. Residing in the same place for so long… might cause anyone to mislay their sense of reasoning. 

"Now… where did I place that box?" Polaris sinks below the fancy desk he stands behind. The placement is quite unusual; normally, desks are placed in the corner or the back of a room, not the center. 

"Hoku, I apologize for the state of things here. If I had known we'd be entertaining a guest, I might have made an effort to tidy up," Polaris says, standing up to place a hand on his hip as he skimmed the disarray that lay before him.

Hoku awkwardly gestures in his direction, uncertain of how to respond to the apology, because frankly, he had been the one who invaded Polaris' home.

Thus, if anyone should apologize, it ought to be himself. Yet here Polaris stands, treating Hoku's presence as though he were a summoned guest to his manor.

Polaris sighs after a moment, then uses his other hand to squeeze the back of his neck as he tilts his head back, his expression exasperated.

"Do you mind assisting me with something? It shouldn't take too much of your time."

Hoku curiously tilts his head before walking around to the side of the desk to get a better view of its exterior.

"What is it?"

"Wooden box. I'm looking for a wooden box, small, obscurely plain, evidently made without the guidance of a craftsman."

'Craftsman?'

"Would it be in this room?" Hoku asks, slipping his finger between the gaps of carved wood pillars that frame the desk's side.

"I would like to think so… but now I'm somewhat unsure. I thought I hid the watch behind these books. Could you look through the drawers in that bureau and check the shelves behind you?"

Polaris stands up and swiftly runs his palm over the wrinkles in his pants.

"This?" Hoku asks, pushing the tip of his finger against the furniture he was admiring, a shade of crimson bleeding under his fingernail.

As Polaris walks toward the door, he hums part of his reply, "I'll ensure I didn't leave it anywhere upstairs."

Hoku simply nods, before facing the wall adjacent to him.

"Lastly, I know everything that belongs to this room, including the number of books, so don't pocket anything~"

Polaris is out of the room before Hoku can counter his presumptuous remark.

"Says you," Hoku mumbles, grasping the broken locket through his shirt. The cold metal grazes his skin beneath the cotton fabric.

This is something important, but why? Who gave it to him? Sentimental jewelry suggests a mother, but why would he act out of constraint for an item from a woman he never formed a memory of?

There is so much clutter in the room. Stacks of books are laid out against the walls with high shelves.

Empty glasses with remains of ink are tipped onto their sides, and a collection of potentially six to eight hundred journals is scattered across the floor.

Crumbled papers are thrown into a corner, noticeably kicked around.

Hoku curls his fingers around the rigid knobs framing the bureau and crouches in front of the drawers.

Each one he pulls on stays closed, clicking into place when he tugs on the handle too hard.

Keyholes? What kind of 'desk' drawers need a key?!

Raising his head above the surface, Hoku helplessly peers through the slots, still standing on the floor.

A thin, rigid object is veiled with a long red tarp.

Somehow, this broad rectangular structure cloaked in an elegantly colored fabric slipped past his perusal before.

Could this be what he was originally looking for?

He stands on his feet and approaches the object leaning against a broken easel. Upon reaching for it, his fingers sink into the folds of the tarp.

The tarp slips from one of the sharp corners, creating a sound similar to when his coat scuffed the floor upstairs.

Though it merely falls enough to shorten the length of red hanging on the other side.

"Damn—it's stuck on something."

"I found it! You can come, upstairs, kid. It seems I left it in the master!"

"Was it? Okay… I'm coming up then."

Hoku presses his lips into a line, allowing his fingers to slide down the tarp. He'll just ask about it.

The space between the walls that secure the stair railing is narrow and poorly painted.

It feels like walking into the past; everything below the house is grotty, like a homestead left out in the cold after a snowstorm caused ugly interior damage.

Hoku keeps his eyes on the steps, the light pouring in from the doorway, filling greater portions of the plank-like steps.

Nearing the top of the staircase, he hesitates, seeing an ill-defined silhouette split the light into separate shafts that gleam from both sides of him.

"Huh?" He squints forward.

A spindly black cat, with sharp green eyes, is perched atop the crest of the stairs.

His foot remains placed on one of the steps behind him as he quietly gazes at the feeble creature ahead.

"...Cheshire?"