Chloe, dressed in flawless black, turned to us with a beaming smile.

"Hi, Qasim, Luke. Good to see you again."

Her impression as she leisurely crossed her long legs was quite different from when she'd visited my office. Viktor too, leaning his weight on his left elbow, looked like a painting in this classroom—making it undeniably clear this was their territory. 

The room they'd prepared was an ordinary, impersonal meeting room in a corner of the research building. White walls, easily movable folding tables, outlets installed everywhere. Despite being in a country where the sun blazed relentlessly, the space felt somehow dim.  But fragments of complex equations left on the edge of the whiteboard and strange machines like something from a movie added color to this characterless space.

I'd never tried using mathematical formula motifs, but if they blended well with someone's personality, it might make for interesting interior design—while I stood there thinking such things, Qasim tapped my upper arm.

"What's wrong, Luke? You're spacing out."

Qasim smiled as he said this. At his friendly smile and the pressure of his blue gaze, I hurriedly moved to the seats across from Chloe and Viktor. The seats were dead center in the classroom, so I couldn't tell which side counted as facing the wall. We pulled back our chairs and sat down together with stiff movements.

The redheaded physics student lounging directly across from me shrugged at me.

"Didn't expect you to come too."

The words could be interpreted as him not welcoming my visit, but they were probably meant literally. There was something mechanical in the way he spoke that suggested as much.

I shrugged in exactly the same motion as him and opened my mouth.

"Well, I'm just tagging along, really. Something like a chaperone for this boy."

Qasim, who had been radiating a refreshing smile beside me, suddenly rattled his chair.

"...Luke."

"Just kidding, of course."

At Qasim's ground-level voice, I smiled with the satisfaction of having scored a point.

"After hearing your stories, I wanted to know a bit more about Alan myself."

At my words—which even I couldn't tell were true or false—Viktor raised eyebrows the same color as his hair. As he shrugged, his rich brown T-shirt rose and fell. It wasn't particularly designer, but it certainly wasn't something bought at a random supermarket either. The size was a bit large, but the deep brown with its faint reddish tint complemented his red hair and green eyes so perfectly that even I was impressed.

This physics student might actually have excellent color sense. Assuming it wasn't a family member who chose the shirt.

As I began imagining Viktor's family composition, he continued.

"Chaperone is probably your real reason, isn't it? This guy was pretty intense when he approached us in front of the church too."

"Vik!"

At Viktor's blunt words, Chloe raised her voice in apparent alarm.

"What? You were so surprised you were speechless too."

"That was just... being a little startled by a stranger talking to us."

"You had every hair standing on end. Well, if Ethan hadn't been there, you and I might have both run away."

At those words, I turned my gaze to Qasim in surprise. Had the reputedly taciturn Ethan dealt with this stubborn lion—currently wearing a wry smile beside me?

"Oh, it's not that I found you scary. ...It's just that you looked so troubled. So I thought for sure you must be 'Luke.'"

"Ah, right. I've been meaning to ask about that too."

Ignoring Qasim as he deepened his smile toward Chloe, I quickly seized on her words.

"You two already knew my name. Did Alan say something about me?"

If so, that would be quite unexpected. Alan, who had been so afraid of revealing his sexual orientation, had talked about his confidant to his friends of all people.

And my guess appeared to be correct—both of Alan's friends shook their heads at my question, saying "No, not at all."

"Your name just came up once from him."

"Though even that was unusual, to be fair."

"Looking back, it was pretty rude of us to suddenly visit someone whose name we'd only heard once."

Oh my. I was glad they'd realized that. Ideally, I would have preferred them to realize it a bit earlier. Preferably before visiting me.

"It's just that when Alan said your name, he looked so amused, so relaxed."

"Right, right. I thought that was rare. So Chloe said it must be his boyfriend's name and that we absolutely shouldn't tease him about it."

"That warning was probably the right call. So, was there anyone else who heard my name at that time?"

At my question, the two looked somewhat taken aback but dutifully thought about it.

"Tony was there too, right?"

"He was."

"He's an international student in the same department. He's close with Vik, so sometimes he hangs out and talks with us. I think he was with us then."

"Was this Tony close with Alan?"

At my words, Chloe and Viktor again stopped moving in surprise. After appearing to think for a moment, they shook their heads again.

"It was more of a matter-of-fact acquaintanceship, I'd say."

"I think they got along fine without any friction. They're both the reserved type, so maybe they clicked."

"I see... By the way, do you think he also misunderstood that I was Alan's boyfriend?"

"Who knows. I think he was there when Chloe loudly proclaimed 'Luke must be Alan's boyfriend!'"

Viktor answered matter-of-factly and raised an eyebrow.

"—By the way, Luke. Why are you asking us such questions?"

"Oh, no particular reason—"

Of course I couldn't say I was thinking the letter's sender might be someone who mistakenly believed I was Alan's boyfriend and had gone mad with jealousy, so I vaguely trailed off—when Qasim kicked my foot from the side. What the hell?! I turned around with that accusation in my eyes, and he was staring at me meaningfully.

Not understanding, I turned my face forward again and noticed Chloe, seated diagonally across from me, looking unmistakably suspicious. I panicked greatly. Beside her, Viktor was watching me with amusement—and sharp vigilance.

Finally understanding what Qasim was trying to tell me, I changed what I'd been about to say at the last second.

"Oh, well, since I was receiving various consultations from Alan. Hearing about his friends directly from them like this, I just got a bit happy..."

At my excuse, Chloe tilted her head as if unconvinced. Following her expression, Viktor narrowed his eyes further. I knew—that excuse completely failed to justify asking around about people who knew about my relationship with Alan.

"Um, Chloe. Does Tony happen to have short hair styled upward?" Apparently unable to watch anymore, Qasim, who had been silently observing, smoothly interjected from the side. "I think I may have seen you two with Alan and this Tony together."

"Oh, really?"

"It left an impression, so I remember it well. The Alan I knew in high school was usually alone... so I was really happy to see him surrounded by friends."

At Qasim's slightly bashful smile, Chloe's expression softened. If this was calculated, he was quite skilled.

Grateful to my partner, I was thinking about how to steer the conversation toward pleasant chat when Qasim continued beside me.

"By the way, have you two ever gone on a trip with Alan?"

Instantly, a suspicious shadow crossed Chloe's face again, and I looked up at the ceiling. A flat white coating with two vertical fluorescent lights arranged in rows. I see—from a third party's perspective, questions without context were quite nerve-wracking.

"—We've never even discussed such a thing with this group."

"I see... Then, have you ever seen him changing clothes—"

This time I kicked Qasim's foot, and he turned his wide blue eyes to me in surprise.

Chloe's low voice overlapped with the two of us.

"Wait a minute. What's going on here?"

At that stiff tone, Qasim and I hurriedly turned to face her. Chloe was literally angry—and that anger was clearly an expression of her deeply wounded heart. Qasim and I rose from our chairs with a clatter.

"It's not what you think, Chloe!"

"It's a misunderstanding, we didn't mean—"

"Not what I think? You said you wanted to talk about Alan, but you're clearly sniffing around for something. What do you really want to know?"

At her words, we were clearly at a loss.

I instinctively looked to Viktor for help, and Viktor raised a sardonic eyebrow at the end of my gaze.

"Well, what we did to Luke has come back around. I see that being the subject of investigation isn't very pleasant."

With a thoroughly sardonic, cold smile, Viktor continued.

"Thank you for giving me the opportunity to understand how my research subjects—subatomic particles—feel."

"...You're right, we did the same thing to you. We jumped to the conclusion that Alan's boyfriend might have driven him to suicide and visited you to investigate that. Even though you were kind to us... it wouldn't be right to blame you for the same thing."

At the sight of her lowering her long lashes in dejection, I grew even more flustered.

"Chloe, I'm sorry. I was wrong. I'll explain properly."

Qasim, who had regained composure slightly faster than me, placed his hand over Chloe's and whispered an apology. I wondered if Chloe would find such sudden touching unpleasant, but fortunately my concern proved unfounded. Chloe didn't shake off Qasim's hand—she simply stared back at him with a stubborn gaze. As Viktor and I watched, Qasim continued his explanation.

"This is a very private matter about Alan, so I was hesitant to mention it, but... I saw some injuries on his body back in high school."

At Qasim's words, confusion mixed into Chloe's gaze, and Viktor's face went serious.

"Those injuries were clearly inflicted by someone, so I wanted to confirm whether Alan was still being hurt—or hadn't been. That's why I came to talk to you two."

"...I see, so that's what this is about."

Chloe murmured with a sigh.

"Let me ask you both again—was there any sign that Alan was being hurt by someone anymore?"

At Qasim's question, Chloe and Viktor exchanged glances. Viktor spoke first.

"Hearing that, I've remembered something."

Viktor erased his sardonic, mocking smile and continued with a serious expression.

"This was when I first started latching onto Alan—at some point I lightly patted Alan's back with my palm. Very lightly, just a greeting-level tap."

As he explained, Viktor tapped the air. An extremely light strike where barely his fingers moved.

"Even at just this level of force, Alan was in terrible pain. He stiffened up, went pale, broke out in a cold sweat. Even I thought I must have done something wrong."

"When... was this?"

Qasim asked in a groan.

"Two years ago. Since then I've avoided touching Alan as much as possible, so I don't know if he still had injuries."

"His clothes..."

This time Chloe hesitantly spoke, overlapping Viktor's words.

"His clothes changed. Starting around last summer—Alan used to always wear shirts with sleeves down to about here."

As she spoke, Chloe pointed to a spot just past her elbow. That would be three-quarter length. In this subtropical city where many people wore short sleeves even in winter, if he wore three-quarter sleeves even in summer, it must have been quite noticeable.

"I thought maybe he was sensitive to cold because he was thin, but gradually he started wearing shorter sleeves more often. Lately he's always in T-shirts. I haven't seen him layering anymore either."

"Yeah. The Alan I know was always in just a short-sleeved shirt too."

At my words, Chloe nodded and turned her gaze to Qasim.

"I don't think this clears up all your concerns. But perhaps somewhat—" She trailed off and gently lowered her eyes. "I understand how you feel. I'm sure everyone in this room feels the same."

As I lowered my eyelids with a solemn expression, Viktor tapped the table with his fingertips to signal me. Then he pointed alternately at himself and Qasim while raising an eyebrow. He seemed to be asking, "Does 'everyone' include me?" I nodded rapidly, desperately signaling Viktor to lower that finger.

After thinking about something for a moment, Qasim showed a smile to Chloe and Viktor. It was somewhat shadowed for a refreshing smile, but still, it was certainly a charming one.

"Thank you. I'm really glad I got to hear from you both."

"We couldn't tell you much."

"No... it made me think that maybe the violence against him stopped once he entered university. —Thank you. I don't want to sniff around for the cause of his death. I just—"

"Yeah. I know."

Chloe's acknowledgment served as the cue, and our poor excuse for an interrogation came to a close. The four of us rose from our seats in scattered fashion and began walking toward the elevator.

The idea that the sender of that murderous letter was someone who knew Alan might have been too simplistic.

Replaying the conversation of the past several dozen minutes in my head, I let out a small sigh. Seven letters from an unknown sender, with holes punched through in places from pen pressure. The irrepressible hatred dwelling in each of those pages—I couldn't picture any of Alan's three friends, or this Tony who'd come up, feeling such raw emotion toward me. Well, perhaps realizing that was itself a gain. The possibility that the wounds on Alan's body had already been healing also greatly relieved me.

After I finished talking with Ethan later, maybe I'd stop by New Farm on the way home and buy some bread. Just as I started thinking such thoughts, Viktor caught up to me with long strides. Feeling somewhat surprised, I couldn't help but glance toward him. I was broader in the shoulders, but we were probably about the same height.

"There's something I forgot to ask earlier, Luke."

Viktor spoke up while keeping his vivid green eyes forward. As I stared in surprise at being addressed by someone who didn't seem particularly sociable, Viktor continued smoothly.

"Has someone started trying to kill you recently, by any chance?"