The moment Charlotte reached this conclusion, she actually felt it was a little ridiculous.
After living this long, she finally thought she had met an opponent worthy of her—only to realize that the real problem wasn't logic, but something deep in her heart.
If her younger self had known this, she would probably have felt both anger and amusement.
"By the way, Charlotte."
Russell's sudden words pulled Charlotte's wandering thoughts back to reality.
"Hm?"
Charlotte set down her teacup and looked at Russell. "What are you doing?"
"What are your plans for the weekend?"
Russell asked.
"This weekend?"
Charlotte raised one eyebrow, unconsciously considering her future schedule, then shook her head.
"Unless Vanessa calls or Lestrade fails to find the culprit, there's nothing I absolutely have to do."
She paused for a moment, then seemed to realize something and turned to look at Russell.
"Are you going to the Faidon Teahouse with Mary Morstan again this weekend?"
"Pretty much."
Russell nodded, but didn't explicitly say he was going to Mary's house.
If he mentioned that, he feared tomorrow's Times headline would read:
[Major chemical accident at 221B Baker Street. Charlotte Holmes's assistant meets tragic end.]
If possible, it was best to avoid such things.
Upon hearing his answer, almost no change appeared on Charlotte's face—no furrowed brows, no dissatisfied expression, no attempt to feign calmness.
After what happened yesterday, his relationship with Mary had changed significantly.
But between him and Charlotte…
Russell could clearly feel a boundary line. However, that boundary was one-way.
It was as though the two of them were standing on either side of a door, but the door could only be opened from Charlotte's side, not from Russell's.
Charlotte simply stood in front of that door, occasionally approaching to gently turn the doorknob or knock, but until yesterday, no matter what happened, she had never tried to push it open.
She had pushed the door open herself, but it had only opened a tiny crack, so she hadn't stepped over the threshold. She stood in the doorway, as though hesitating about something.
It was like a neighbor occasionally knocking on the door and asking, "We've run out of soy sauce—could you spare a little?"
Only then would a simple exchange occur. She would borrow the soy sauce, use it, return it, and everything would seem to go back to normal.
In Russell's view, this was the current state of his relationship with Charlotte.
It was a very delicate relationship, completely different from the one he had with Mary.
"That was fine."
Charlotte's voice was quiet and devoid of emotion.
She picked up the evening paper again and turned her gaze to it, as though she had lost interest in the topic.
"It's much better to go out more often than to stay cooped up at school sleeping all day."
"..."
Russell paused for a moment. "You seem particularly worried about what happens to me at school."
"That's just an illusion."
Charlotte said, "Let's eat. I'm hungry."
…
Dinner proceeded in a calm atmosphere.
Mrs. Hudson had gone out to meet a friend today, so only the two of them remained at the table.
Russell had prepared dinner.
Due to time constraints, he couldn't make anything elaborate and had to settle for two smoked-meat sandwiches.
Charlotte ate very slowly, chewing each bite carefully. It wasn't because she was particular, but because her attention had completely drifted away from the food in her hands.
Russell glanced at her. Charlotte was deep in thought.
There was still no word from Vanessa, which suggested Charles Brown's condition hadn't improved and it was clearly not a situation where they could meet again.
The Professor's killer hadn't been found yet, and Inspector Lestrade was currently unreliable.
In other words, she couldn't find a single reason to keep Russell by her side this weekend.
Charlotte's mind was filled with the words Mycroft had said to her the previous day.
The squeaky wheel gets the grease.
She still didn't like that metaphor, but she had to admit there was some truth to what Mycroft said.
That man had devoted at least seventy percent of his high intelligence to studying human relationships.
If you don't actively work hard, things won't naturally come to you.
Just like Russell.
Considering that man's personality, Charlotte understood very well that if she didn't take the initiative, he would never cross that line in his entire life.
He might spend his whole life playing the role of a perfect, flawless, loyal, and reliable assistant.
He would always manage his daily life properly, make breakfast, remind her not to stay up late, and provide only the minimum necessary help when solving cases.
And then what?
And that would be the end.
Their relationship might develop into affection, but it would remain within the bounds of courtesy and maintain a certain distance throughout their lives.
Well, "a lifetime" might be a slight exaggeration. Given enough time, he might eventually take action himself.
But that was based on the premise that, apart from herself, there were no other women in his social circle with whom he had a close relationship.
However, this premise had clearly been mercilessly shattered by reality.
He and Mary Morstan were becoming increasingly close.
If things continued like this, they might start going to the theater together, visiting beauty salons together, or taking walks while watching the sunset.
They were already holding hands and hugging.
All that remained was a kiss.
If she had been even a little slower, she might have received a wedding invitation from Mary Morstan, or perhaps been invited to be the godmother of their child.
Thinking this, Charlotte's eyes instantly darkened.
This defeat was absolutely unacceptable.
But what should we do?
Charlotte furrowed her brows. Imitating Mary by putting on an innocent and charming act was something she absolutely couldn't do.
Traditional methods and new approaches: hunters have different hunting styles.
"Watson."
Charlotte set down her sandwich and looked up at Russell.
"Hm?"
Russell looked up at Charlotte while chewing the food in his mouth.
"What's wrong?"
He swallowed the food in his mouth and asked.
"Have you finished eating?"
Charlotte asked while glancing at the half-eaten sandwich in Russell's hand.
"Just say it directly."
Russell said, "It's only going to take two bites anyway."
"Come with me after you finish eating."
Charlotte said.
"Where to?"
Russell asked.
"Let's go for a walk."
"Oh."
Russell nodded and took another bite of the sandwich in his hand.
He finished the remaining sandwich in just two bites, picked up his glass, took a sip of water, and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"Let's go."
Russell set down the napkin and stood up.
Charlotte nodded and stood up, walking toward the door.
The two put on their coats, opened the door, and stepped out into London's night streets.
London's streets grew increasingly cold on winter nights.
Russell couldn't help but pull his coat tighter around his body, then glanced at Charlotte.
"Are you okay?"
"It's fine."
Charlotte understood what he meant. It was an unspoken understanding between the two of them.
Even so, she imitated Russell and wrapped her clothes even tighter around her body.
The coat Charlotte was wearing belonged to Russell. It fit Russell perfectly, but on Charlotte it looked a little loose, allowing cold air to seep in through the gaps.
"You should have worn a scarf."
Russell said.
"It's fine. If I endure it, I'll get used to it."
Charlotte said casually, her voice muffled from inside her collar.
"So, where are we going?"
"Just follow me."
Charlotte kept everyone in suspense.
So Russell followed behind her. The two wandered aimlessly through the winter night streets—at least for Russell, this walk had no destination.
At this hour, there were almost no people on the streets. It was too cold, and few wanted to go out.
Even the vendors selling snacks from stalls had closed up early, unwilling to work overtime.
They crossed Baker Street, entered an alley, then crossed a square.
Along the way, neither of them spoke a single word. If they did, the wind would blow in.
This, too, was an unspoken understanding. There were things that didn't need to be said right now, and things that didn't need to be done intentionally.
As Russell walked, he suddenly noticed that the path ahead seemed somewhat familiar.
It looked like the same path he and Charlotte had walked before. This discovery made him unconsciously look up at the sky. As expected, the outline of a distant bridge faintly emerged in the darkness of the night.
If the empty classroom at Imperial College was his and Mary's secret hideout…
Then this bridge was probably his and Charlotte's secret base.
Including this time, the two of them had only come here twice.
However, the essence of things can sometimes be judged in the very first encounter.
Time was needed. Just like a boomerang that keeps flying forward and is bound to return someday.
The two crossed the bridge and stopped at the same spot as before.
The Thames still flowed beneath their feet, making gurgling sounds every time the wind blew.
Russell placed both hands on the stone railing and stared at the river without saying a word.
Russell stood beside her, gazing at the river in the same way.
"What are you thinking about?"
He was the first to break the silence. In situations like this, someone had to speak first.
"I'm thinking about a few things."
Charlotte said.
"What's the problem?"
"I'm thinking about your relationship with Mary Morstan."
Charlotte said.
"The newspapers always report that we have a very close relationship, but when it comes to intimacy, I always feel that you're closer to her.
At least, judging from what you've done with her."
Russell stood there in a daze.
"How far has your relationship progressed?"
Charlotte turned to face Russell.
"Holding hands, hugging, kissing—is it still a bit early for that?"
Russell was silent for a while. Charlotte furrowed her brows slightly.
"Have you two already kissed?"
"That depends on how you define it."
"Does a kiss on the cheek count as intimacy?"
"A kiss on the cheek. At least to me, that sounds better."
Charlotte said.
"A kiss on the cheek…" Russell repeated the words, then couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"What are you laughing at?"
"It's nothing," Russell shook his head. "Just think of it as a kiss on the cheek."
"Then what is your current relationship with her?"
Charlotte asked.
"Friends?"
Russell said conservatively.
"Hm?"
Charlotte made a nasal sound expressing doubt.
"Fine," Russell raised his hand irritably. "It's over. We're not friends anymore."
Hearing this, Charlotte couldn't help but turn to look at him, staring at him as though he were an idiot.
"Do you think I'll believe that?"
"Whether you believe it or not is up to you," Russell shrugged. "Anyway, I'm no longer friends with her. Whether you ask her directly or ask someone at the newspaper, you'll probably get the same answer."
Charlotte was silent for a few seconds.
"Why?"
She asked. "I can't believe the two of you had a falling out over something and actually improved your relationship after breaking up."
"Because we severed our friendship, things were able to progress further.
There's no logical connection here.
Because it's a causal relationship, Charlotte."
Russell looked at those gray-blue eyes that stood out even in the darkness.
"There are some things that friends absolutely cannot do.
That's why she severed our friendship. We're no longer friends."
Hearing this, Charlotte wore an expression of realization. So that's what severing a relationship meant.
She couldn't help but marvel at humanity's creativity and destructiveness in literature.
"Then…" She paused, appearing to be deep in thought.
Charlotte asked, "What is our relationship?"
"We're…" Russell opened his mouth. "Assistant and partner, neighbors, and… I guess we could say friends?"
"…I don't want to think of it that way."
"Fine, then we're not friends."
Russell sighed.
"After living in London for so long, it feels like I don't have a single friend."
"Isn't this all something you brought upon yourself?"
Charlotte smiled. It was the first time she had smiled that day.
Because the light was dim, Russell could barely make out that smile. It was faint and almost indistinguishable, like stars covered in mist in London's night sky. Her smile was the same as always.
"Russell."
Charlotte's smile disappeared. She called his name.
She usually preferred to call him "Watson" and rarely called him "Russell."
When Charlotte called him by his name, it meant she was being serious.
"What's wrong?"
Russell asked.
"Do you believe in fate?"
Charlotte asked a question that didn't suit her.
Russell paused for a moment before shaking his head.
"I can't believe it."
"Yeah."
Charlotte nodded. She didn't look surprised by the answer.
"What about you?"
Russell countered. "Do you believe in fate?"
"I didn't used to."
Charlotte said, "But now I'm starting to."
"Why?"
Russell asked with interest.
"Because…" Charlotte turned to face Russell.
"If this isn't fate, then why you, of all people?"
The night wind carried the girl's gentle words to Russell's ears.
He met Charlotte's eyes. Her eyes were now filled with confusion.
Like the first snowflakes falling on a winter night—fleeting, yet possessing an otherworldly beauty.
There was no logical or scientific basis to explain this problem, so she was confused. The only way to uncover the truth was to ask the person directly involved in the problem.
"Why… you, among all people?"
She repeated it once more. Her voice was very small, as though she were asking herself.
"Charlotte——"
"Don't speak."
Charlotte cut Russell off. Russell had looked like he wanted to say something, but she didn't want what she was about to do to be interrupted.
Once you've made up your mind about something, it's best to do it all at once. If you get interrupted halfway, you might never get another chance.
Heaven does not pity those who cannot seize the opportunity.
Therefore, she had to consider whether this was the only chance in her life.
Charlotte turned around and looked straight at Russell instead of at the river that had flowed for thousands of years.
She took a step forward, closing the distance between them, then raised her face to meet Russell's eyes.
In that instant, the confusion that had been in his eyes seemed to disappear, leaving only purity.
"Russell."
"I'm here."
"From now on, just listen to what I'm about to say. You don't need to answer."
Charlotte said, "If you understand, nod."
Russell nodded.
Charlotte took a deep breath, as though she were about to read a very important thesis that would determine the direction of her future life.
This thesis was so important that it could not be taken lightly. Every single word had to be carefully considered.
"I don't really know what kind of feelings I have toward you."
She spoke in a much slower voice than usual, as though carefully selecting each word before speaking.
"This feeling is completely unfamiliar to me. I'm used to analyzing things based on logic and evidence, but this can't be analyzed."
She paused.
"I don't know when it started, but when you're not on Baker Street, I feel lonely.
When you come back, even if nothing happens afterward, I'm happy.
When I see you getting close to Mary, I feel uncomfortable.
When you get hurt, I worry and feel scared."
Charlotte said.
"These are facts—facts I've observed and felt. Facts that cannot be denied."
Her voice was calm, but Russell noticed that her hands were trembling slightly.
One hand hung at her side, while the other gripped the railing tightly. On a winter night, the railing was freezing cold, but she desperately held on to it, trying to appear more resolute.
"I can't use deductive reasoning to guess what kind of feeling this is," she continued.
"There are far too many variables involved, and it's impossible to list or analyze them all.
Yesterday, when Mycroft came and brought up this matter, I thought about it."
Charlotte took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. White mist was clearly visible in the darkness.
"Mycroft told me that this is called affection."
She raised her face and looked straight into Russell's eyes.
"I've never liked anyone before, so I don't know if what he said is true.
But when it comes to human nature, Mycroft is much wiser than I am.
So… maybe what he said is correct."
Charlotte looked at Russell.
"I like you."
She said this in a very calm voice, in a very serious tone, without any embellishment.
"I don't know if this is what's called love, because there is no reference point for comparison.
Since there is no precedent, I don't know how long this will last.
Similarly, I don't know what you think of me, because you've never said it.
In the first place, I don't even know if I like you.
It's simply because Mycroft reached this conclusion for me, and that conclusion happens to explain everything.
Therefore, until I find a new answer that overturns this conclusion, I'll think of it this way.
Russell, I like you."
"Charlotte——" Russell began, but Charlotte cut him off again.
She reached out and covered Russell's mouth, continuing to speak.
"I already told you to just listen."
There was unmistakable authority in her voice, but it also sounded like a plea.
Her eyes stared at Russell without blinking, like two bottomless lakes floating in the light.
When Charlotte took a deep breath, white mist rose between the two of them, but it quickly dissipated in the wind.
"I don't know what I should do next."
She returned to her usual calm voice.
"I have no experience, and no precedent I can refer to.
My parents can't be good advisors, and I can't follow Mary's methods."
She furrowed her brows slightly and paused.
"If I follow her, I should probably hug you right now, or ask you to hug me, or do something else…
In other words, something that could make this moment more meaningful and more ritualistic.
But I can't. I have no idea what it is that makes this moment feel like a ritual."
Charlotte said.
"I think Mycroft might be right. And maybe that's what it means to like someone.
There are some things where, if I don't do them, I might never find the answer in my entire life.
So next, I'll try conducting an experiment."
Her voice suddenly softened.
As Charlotte spoke, she slowly lowered the hand that had been covering his mouth and instead gently placed it on Russell's cheek.
Her hand was as cold as jade just pulled from ice water. When it touched Russell's warm skin, it absorbed his warmth.
"An experiment regarding likes and dislikes."
Charlotte raised her other hand and gently placed it on Russell's other cheek.
She cupped his face with both hands, as though holding a precious gem.
Then, under Russell's gaze, Charlotte stood on tiptoe.
Amidst a gaze filled with surprise, that face which always exuded coldness and aloofness slowly grew larger in their field of vision.
Then—
Russell felt a soft, cool sensation on the corner of his mouth.
It was an awkward kiss.
She was so clumsy that she couldn't even touch his lips properly. She only lightly touched the corner of his mouth before pulling back.
However, this brief moment completely blanked out Russell's mind.
In that instant, time felt infinitely stretched.
The sound of the Thames wind and water, the faint sound of bells in the distance, and even his own heartbeat—all sounded incredibly clear in that moment.
Charlotte quickly retreated. So quickly that it seemed as though everything that had just happened was an illusion, a thought that had passed through his mind for only an instant.
She retreated back to her original position. Once she returned to her original spot, she slid her hands off his cheeks and let go.
The small amount of courage she had barely mustered disappeared without a trace after that brief, superficial kiss.
She felt as though her cheeks were on fire, and her heart was beating at an abnormal speed.
"Experiment complete."
It took Russell quite a while before he finally found his voice.
"So… what's the conclusion?"
"The conclusion is…"
Charlotte paused.
"I'll reserve judgment on Mycroft's opinion for now."
She said.
"What do you mean?"
"It means I like you."
Charlotte looked at him. This time, she seemed much calmer than before.
"But that is Mycroft's conclusion, not mine.
My intuition tells me that the situation might not be that simple, but for now, I can't find any other appropriate conclusion.
Therefore, regarding Mycroft's conclusion, I'll reserve my opinion for the time being."
She looked at Russell. Her eyes seemed to have regained their former dignity.
"This is merely a temporary delay. Sooner or later, I will overturn this situation and face you again with my own answer.
So, like Mary, you don't need to give me an answer. At least until I find the answer I need, it's fine if things stay as they are.
You need time to think, and similarly, I need time to think about and analyze all of this.
Moreover—"
Charlotte's voice suddenly lowered again.
"Furthermore, I need more data."
...
PS: Read at least 67 advanced chapters at patreon.com/AbsoluteCode