Professor Holmes is not a villain.

Meeting with Holmes was the worst (2)

The main reason 21-year-old James Moriarty accepted the job as a tutor for the second son of the Holmes family was mainly due to financial reasons, but also because of the name ‘Holmes.’

In truth, it was a foolish thought. In Ireland, where he was born, there were probably over a thousand people with the name Moriarty, and there were certainly thousands of people in England with the name Holmes.

In fact, when he traveled by train and carriage to a small village near Scotland, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed.

Mr. Holmes was a local Anglican pastor and a somewhat respected gentry landowner in his 50s who seemed rather dull.

His wife, Mrs. Holmes, appeared less dull than her husband and was a woman in her mid-thirties with striking red hair.

Despite being in her mid-thirties, her youthful appearance made it clear that there was likely some fairy blood in her ancestry. In Ireland and Scotland, there were still some people whose ancestors were believed to have been fairies, now long gone.

Those with red hair or eyes were often known to age slowly, and it seemed Mrs. Holmes was no exception.

However, unlike many famous handsome or beautiful individuals, Mrs. Holmes’s appearance was quite ordinary.

Upon arriving at the Holmes estate, Moriarty learned that the family consisted of two sons and one daughter. The elder son, as was common among English gentry, was studying at seminary to take over his father’s work, so he wasn’t around, and Moriarty couldn’t see the youngest daughter until he began conversing with the student he was supposed to tutor.

It was somewhat disappointing, but the student Moriarty would be teaching was named Mycroft. It seemed that Mr. Holmes had an unusual naming habit, as Moriarty had never encountered anyone with the name Mycroft before.

“Hello, sir.”

“You’re preparing for Oxford, are you?”

“Yes.”

The conversation was brief.

Mycroft Holmes was a 15-year-old boy. He was tall like Moriarty himself but appeared somewhat slow due to a bit of extra weight.

However, unlike other fools, his eyes shone sharply, making him an impressive young man. During their brief conversation on the first day, Moriarty realized the boy was quite intelligent, just like him.

Still, Moriarty didn’t find it particularly exciting.

Mycroft was a smart boy, but he lacked the passion to use his intelligence for interesting endeavors.

However, he was far better than teaching a fool, so Moriarty felt he could probably make it through his year as a tutor without issue.

After finishing the first lesson lightly, he sat in his room, contemplating how he would spend the next year.

He had left the door open, intending to leave soon, and that led to an unexpected visitor.

“What are you really, exactly?”

At the sudden unfamiliar voice, Moriarty froze. He didn’t have anything to hide, but it felt as though his secret had been discovered by someone who hadn’t even considered it. He couldn’t move for a moment.

If he had thought more rationally, he would have known that there was no reason to be afraid of the voice that questioned him like an interrogation.

Any normal adult male would likely have reacted the same way. From the voice alone, it was clear it belonged to a child.

Although it was hard to distinguish whether it was a boy or a girl due to prepubescent features, Moriarty slowly turned his head toward the source of the sound, certain it was a girl.

And as he had guessed, it was.

Someone was now standing at the door, and despite being focused, Moriarty couldn’t sense any presence, which made it clear that the person was a little thief.

Moriarty quickly observed the girl. But surprisingly, he realized that the girl was also observing him, and he couldn’t help but let out a brief, awkward laugh.

She was a young girl. Later, he would learn that she was an 8-year-old girl, 13 years younger than him, such a small girl.

She was wearing a dress typical for girls, but upon closer inspection, he noticed that beneath her skirt, she was wearing pants, and there was dirt and mud on her here and there. She was clearly an energetic, mischievous girl, just as her appearance suggested.

Mrs. Holmes had done her best to raise her neatly, and her black hair, which reached just below her shoulders, shimmered with a glossy shine, though it was evident that she often enjoyed adventures outside and couldn’t be said to always be perfectly tidy, even in casual conversation.

What was most striking, however, was the sharpness in her gaze as she observed him. Mycroft’s eyes were also impressive, but this girl’s were even more so.

Her gray eyes, reflecting his image, shone like jewels, and within them, he could detect a faint red glow.

It seemed that, if anything, Mrs. Holmes’s daughter inherited even more of the fairy blood than her mother.

The girl was remarkably beautiful, so much so that anyone who saw her would be certain she would grow up to be an extraordinary beauty, though such a description didn’t quite fit the girl at her current age.

Even Moriarty couldn’t help but agree on this point.

However, the reason Moriarty had involuntarily focused on her wasn’t simply because the child was pretty. Oddly enough, upon seeing her, he was struck by an impression that he couldn’t explain, and even he didn’t know why.

But he couldn’t remain suspiciously silent any longer. Moriarty cautiously, yet casually, spoke.

“What do you mean by that, little miss?”

“I’m not a little girl.”

The bold little lady responded to Moriarty’s words. Yet, her gaze, filled with confidence, still held a childlike innocence that was typical of her age.

To Moriarty, the girl seemed like someone who had noticed his secret and was now absorbed in interrogating him, just like a heroine in a fairytale.

“Alright, alright, Holmes, I apologize. But what was that you just said?”

“Don’t tease me, no, I mean… Ahem, you’re Moriarty, right? I heard you’re Mycroft’s tutor, and that you’re a college student.”

“Technically, I’ve already graduated, but yes, that’s right, Holmes.”

At Moriarty’s confirmation, Holmes smiled and raised the corner of her mouth. It was as though she believed she had won, and her voice lifted with excitement.

“That’s all a lie, isn’t it? Isn’t it? So, I’m asking, why are you hiding your true identity? Could it be that you’re a villain? If so, what’s your purpose? You must have a reason for hiding who you are and coming all the way to this countryside, right?”

“…Why do you think it’s a lie?”

Moriarty soon realized that the girl had become immersed in her little adventure.

This was exactly why cheap horror novels were problematic. In the trashy adventure stories available for just one penny, the young male protagonists often play the role of confidently interrogating the villain. Holmes, with a shrug of her shoulders, was clearly acting just like that.

And as Moriarty’s question reached her, the girl even flicked her fingers, opening her mouth as if she was mocking him, much like Moriarty sometimes did when mocking fools.

“Moriarty, you said you’re a college student, but you’re actually a soldier, aren’t you? Am I wrong? You can fool my mother, but you can’t fool my eyes. Oh, to be more precise, a retired soldier. Anyway, someone like that pretending to be a college student and working as a tutor, just that is suspicious. There’s no need to be surprised. Everyone does it. People often fail to see what’s right in front of them.”

Holmes probably expected Moriarty to get angry when his true identity was exposed, just like in the novels where the villain reacts with fury.

But unfortunately for her, Moriarty had no intention of providing such an experience for young Holmes.

More than anything, Holmes expected Moriarty to be surprised and ask how she knew. Often, the foolish adults around her were astonished by what she pointed out, and she was hoping for that same reaction from this newly appeared villain.

Then, like in the stories, she would have boasted about her cleverness, explaining how she had figured him out.

However, Moriarty did the unexpected and began to speak in a way that was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

“Hmm… I see… It was because of this coat. Officers often wear epaulets, so naturally, traces would be left on the shoulders. And they often manage their clothes differently, making them look sharper. But a retired officer… I see, you thought the trace was to disguise your identity for a short time, but it’s from long ago. Was I right, Holmes?”

Moriarty slowly stood up and walked toward young Holmes, who was staring at him with a look of shock, and looked down at her.

Being taller than most people, it was natural for Holmes to look up at him.

Moriarty had to admit that Holmes’ reaction was quite intriguing. Although he felt some frustration that she had stolen his words, there was also a sense of surprise and even a bit of joy. He felt a sense of kinship with her, as if he had finally met someone like himself.

It was as if the joy glowed in her eyes, shining with a red aura, and Moriarty couldn’t help but feel a bit of camaraderie.

He had always felt bored with the fools around him, so he could relate to her in a strange way.

“How… how? You’re… definitely not an ordinary villain!”

“Holmes, I’m not a villain.”

Moriarty responded with a smile to Holmes’ excited and surprised exclamation, as if he had met a worthy adversary.

However, his next words made the young girl instinctively take a step back.

“But if I were really a villain, wouldn’t it be foolish for you to come all the way here? Do you know what I might do?”

“Ah…!”

Like a frog under the gaze of a snake, the girl could only sigh softly and stand still. She was too young and inexperienced to handle the cold, indifferent gaze that was now directed at her.

But even then, the girl began to think, wondering how she should deal with this mysterious villain who had come into her life. It was a strange feeling, but in her otherwise dull life, this newfound excitement made her unknowingly crack a half-smile.

Of course, she was somewhat disappointed by Moriarty’s next words.

“Well, I was just joking, Miss Holmes.”

“Ah…”

“Still, it’s an interesting thought, little one.”

“I’m not little!”

“Your thoughts are childish, so you’re a little one. Well, the owner of this coat is, as you guessed, a soldier, not a retired one. He’s still a soldier.”

“Then, as expected!”

Moriarty had to admit that Holmes was more enjoyable to interact with than other foolish and boring people. Of course, she was still a young, small girl, so he was teasing her, but there was something different about her compared to others.

Perhaps that was why he was speaking more than usual. He smiled and, looking down at the girl who was glaring at him with an expression full of dissatisfaction, he spoke.

“But sometimes, you shouldn’t just believe what you see, little one.”

“…What does that mean?”

“You based your reasoning only on the coat I’m wearing. If you only consider the clues given, you would be right.”

He tapped his old coat, which had been passed down to him, and explained as if giving a lecture. Oddly enough, the girl, though clearly displeased with being called “little one,” still focused on his explanation, her eyes sparkling.

“And?”

“But you couldn’t see where this coat came from. This coat originally belonged to my brother, a soldier, as you deduced. But I inherited it, and that’s how it came to be that I wore it here to do a tutor’s job. Our family isn’t wealthy, so passing down clothes is a common thing.”

At Moriarty’s explanation, Holmes nodded unconsciously, as if she hadn’t expected this. Moriarty had to suppress a smile.

He could now understand why professors paid attention to students who focused on their lectures.

Above all, Holmes was indeed a special child, with a very high level of pride.

The girl tried to grumble, as though Moriarty’s explanation was somehow cheating.

“Well… I couldn’t have expected that. But it’s only natural that I couldn’t deduce it. How could I have known that you inherited the coat? That’s not something you can see!”

“That’s why, normally, you should rely on intuition. You still lack that.”

“What did you say?”

“Well, observation is good, but you should work on developing your intuition, little detective. If you learn to trust what you see, you won’t make mistakes like this, right?”

“…Tch.”

Though they had just met, it was the first time Moriarty had such a casual conversation with someone in this life, and he couldn’t help but be a little surprised.

That’s when he suddenly became curious about the girl’s name. Normally, he didn’t bother to remember names, but this girl in front of him seemed to instinctively deserve to be remembered.

“By the way, I realize I haven’t introduced myself properly in front of you, Miss. My apologies. I’m James Moriarty. And your name, Miss?”

But Moriarty was taken aback by the girl’s introduction. It was something even his intuition couldn’t have predicted.

“Holmes… Sherlock Holmes, Mr. Moriarty.”