By Zephyria 
The station was crowded with people leaving London. It was filled with the anticipation and excitement of those departing from familiar places.
Pushing through the bustling crowd, Aaron made his way to the seat indicated on his train ticket. Because he had purchased every seat in an entire carriage to avoid any interference, the interior was silent, in contrast to the noisy exterior.
The carriage he had purchased was specially modified for noble families traveling for the London season; one entire side was left empty for luggage, while the other side consisted of pairs of seats facing each other.
Lacking even the strength to walk to the luggage area, Aaron carelessly tossed his bag onto the opposite seat and sat down.
“Whew…”
He let out a long-held breath in one go. It was because the physical pain and mental fatigue were unraveling all at once. He could even feel a slight numbness throughout his entire body. It was a symptom that appeared when one’s strength plummeted after a severe illness.
Due to his hypersensitive nerves, his complexion looked deeply sickly, and his lowered eyelashes trembled and stilled repeatedly. Including the travel time by train and steamship, it was quite a long journey. Perhaps it would be a difficult time.
I’ll be lucky if I don’t die.
Aaron chuckled to himself with a smirk. Despite his completely broken physical state, he didn’t feel bad. In fact, he felt quite good. It felt as if his body and soul had been separated. Thinking that the effect of the obsessive ghost disappearing was quite remarkable, he blinked slowly.
Outside the window, those departing and those seeing them off were exchanging final farewells. Whatever it was, it was a noisy procedure.
Just as his thoughts were deepening, he felt the presence of someone approaching. Perhaps they were checking on the suspicious passenger who had occupied an entire carriage. Ah. An irrepressible irritation escaped his lips. Just as he looked up, thinking he would make them pay dearly for disturbing his rest—
“…….”
Aaron shut his mouth at the sight that immediately met his eyes.
It was truly an impious act.
Not only had that rude fellow disturbed his time, but he had the audacity to slide into the seat in front of him without asking for permission. It was a situation where it wouldn’t have been strange to point a gun at him immediately, but Aaron said nothing and took no action, overlooking the other’s rudeness.
“Shall I tell you a boring story?”
The unwelcome guest with a gloomy expression whispered in a muffled, sunken voice. Still, there was no answer. Since it wasn’t a question that required an answer, the man clasped his hands and looked straight ahead.
“…….”
Their eyes met.
The one and only sincerity, encountered after circling back through a very long time, existed alive before him. Despite a soul and body that were broken beyond repair, his love—the weakest and strongest of all—had not collapsed or compromised until the end.
“It is such a boring story that I have never told it to anyone.”
Despite the tension-filled request, the air remained silent. MacQuan knew well that this terrible silence was a sign of permission. At least, the master he knew had always been so.
“After my mother’s death…”
Moistening his throat, dry from tension, MacQuan carefully pulled out a piece of a long-rotted memory and placed it upon the guillotine.
“There was only my younger sister and me in the world. At that time, there truly were no other options. It was difficult for a child with no skills or abilities to find a proper job. Even if I worked hard, far from receiving proper pay, I was lucky if I wasn’t beaten all day next to a single penny dropped like a joke. Or, they would throw me a piece of rotten bread.”
His voice retained its tremor.
“When someone who isn’t particularly virtuous is thrown into a disadvantaged external environment, the choices available are very simple. It was crime.”
In the silent gaze watching him, there was neither pity nor condemnation.
“To be honest, I felt no particular pangs of conscience when I joined a gang of pickpockets. Because I thought it was only natural. I believed it wasn’t my fault that I had to make such a choice.”
A low laugh blended into the slow monologue.
“MacQueen Lester was a child I met in that pickpocket gang. He was Jewish, and he was a friend who didn’t know how to give himself an English-style name.”
Meanwhile, those who had finished their farewells boarded the train one by one. At the station, the sadness of parting and the hope of waiting for a new beginning coexisted strangely.
“After agonizing for a few days, he just took any random letters and made up a name. Everyone laughed at him because it was a ridiculous name. No one who lived there with him knew how that child had drifted all the way to London. Whether he had smuggled himself in or had been sold. It would be more accurate to say no one cared.”
Toot—!
At the sound of the train’s whistle announcing departure, Aaron rested his chin on his hand and turned his gaze back to the window. He saw a gentleman kissing and comforting a weeping lover. He saw servants hurriedly boarding the train, burdened with the luggage of nobles. Some young man also came running, looking excited in anticipation of a new start.
“That child was greedy. Despite his young age, he had no hesitation in participating in all sorts of filthy crimes. Naturally, he often took on the dangerous tasks. In a way, it was only natural that he was the first to die.”
The whistle blew once more. The crew guided the passengers who were stalling for time into the train, as if herding prey. Aaron’s calm eyes simply watched them one by one.
“On that day, the person the leader of the pickpocket gang designated as the target happened to be a quite famous noble and former general. The child failed and was beaten to death on the spot by the noble’s guards. It wasn’t instant death, but it was so horrific that it would have been better to die immediately. The child clung to life for about half a day. I watched the process of that child dying from beginning to end.”
Beyond the closed door, the sound of thumping footsteps and noisy conversations continued incessantly. It was the sound of passengers trying to board the opposite carriage.
“After that child died, I stole and used that name. I liked both the rootless name and that violent death. How miserable and wonderful a name it is. I thought that rootless name, which was even difficult to pronounce, would completely cover the name my parents gave me and the surname I inherited… which had held me back because of a meager conscience.”
His sharply angled cheek twitched. Unable to overcome the turbulence in his heart, the man paused to catch his breath. Heavy breathing continued for a moment. Only then, at the sound of a stifled sob, the eyes that had been fixed on the window slowly moved toward the front.
“My name is not MacQueen Lester.”
Tears flowed helplessly through the gaps of the hand covering his face. Had something within him broken completely?
MacQueen Lester found it incredibly difficult to control his distorted emotions. His indifferent master neither stopped him nor wiped away his tears, but simply watched the scene in silence.
Toot—!
With the final blast of the whistle, the train slowly began to move. The energy gained from burning coal powerfully turned the round wheels, announcing the start of a journey to a new place.
For some, it was a new beginning they had desperately desired; for others, a journey dreaming of the end of a life lived by their own will. It was also the final journey of two timelines that had met after circling through thousands of days, yet could never eternally intersect.
“……My real name is……”
In a space where only the two of them existed, the only one to hear the confession of the impoverished dog, buried for a long time, was his master.
Fin.