It was 7:30 a.m. when the door of 221B Baker Street opened. Charlotte descended the stairs, her ssy curls tousled and wearing a bathrobe. The girl yawned as she walked toward the dining table, where tea and scones were usually prepared.
Logically speaking, at this hour there should have been sandwiches, coffee, and the morning newspaper on the table. However, it was completely empty. No—more precisely, there was only one newspaper.
Charlotte frowned, scanned the deserted living room, and finally turned her gaze to the kitchen. There stood a familiar figure wearing Mrs. Hudson's cute bear-patterned apron, standing with his back to the stove.
"Good morning, Charlotte."
Russell didn't turn around, but from the faint sound of footsteps behind him, he knew who was approaching.
"Please wait a little longer. Breakfast will be ready soon."
He flipped the eggs in the frying pan. The golden egg mixture quickly solidified from the high heat, releasing an appetizing aroma.
Charlotte said nothing. She walked to the kitchen entrance, leaned against the doorfra, crossed her arms, and watched the person busily preparing breakfast with a faint hint of curiosity.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"What does it look like?" Russell countered.
"I see you frying eggs."
"That's correct."
"But why?" Charlotte asked, puzzled. "If you went out to buy the newspaper, you could have just bought sandwiches and hot coffee along with it."
"That wouldn't be very honest," Russell said as he plated the fried eggs onto the adjacent toast. "Since we agreed on this, at least let do it properly."
As he spoke, he placed the beautifully arranged breakfast on the table and poured her a glass of warm milk.
"I rember you saying you wanted coffee."
"Hm?"
Russell raised one eyebrow. "I thought we had an agreent about breakfast and the morning paper."
"…What a boring word ga."
Charlotte pulled out a chair and sat down. The girl picked up a knife and fork, cut a piece of the toast covered in golden egg yolk, and put it in her mouth.
The bread was perfectly toasted—crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside. The egg was runny, its rich yolk lting on her tongue and blending with the salty butter. It was surprisingly delicious.
"How is it?" Russell sat across from her and prepared his own portion.
"Almost inedible," Charlotte said, but she ate very quickly.
"That's good." Russell smiled and said nothing more.
For a while, the only sounds in the room were the soft, clear clinks of knives and forks against plates. Thanks to the sunlight streaming through the window, this small corner felt warm and bright.
"Any progress on the Hannigan case?" Russell asked.
"Hmm." Charlotte nodded and pushed aside her now-empty plate. "The information Lestrade sent was more valuable than I imagined."
"Why?"
"They narrowed the scope to sothing relatively manageable." Charlotte said, "If nothing unexpected happens, we should be able to identify the culprit by the end of today."
"Things seem to be going smoothly," Russell remarked neutrally. "So, does that an I don't have to wake up early tomorrow?"
"What are you thinking?" Charlotte glanced at him. "I an, until the case is solved."
"Huh?"
"How can we say the case is solved until the culprit is arrested and brought to justice?" Charlotte asked, as if saying Don't try to dodge your debt.
"…Understood. You decide." Russell shrugged.
After finishing breakfast, he took a napkin, wiped his mouth, and stood up.
"I left a warming cover on Mrs. Hudson's portion too. If she wakes up, don't forget to let her know."
"I know." Charlotte nodded.
Russell said nothing more, grabbed a slice of toast, popped it into his mouth, and turned to leave.
…
"I didn't oversleep today," Russel said casually as he entered the classroom.
From a familiar corner ca Mary's sarcastic voice: "If you were late again, you'd lose face—especially after waking up early to make breakfast and buy the newspaper."
Russell pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Morning."
"Morning." Mary smiled in response, gathered her poetry notes, and began speaking in a slightly curious tone. "Making breakfast and buying the newspaper? Why did you have to wake up so early?"
"Couldn't you just buy it on the way here like usual?"
"Because I need to prepare for Charlotte." Russell yawned and rubbed the corners of his eyes.
Hearing this, Mary raised an eyebrow. "Prepare for Charlotte? Why?"
A faint hint of jealousy—unnoticed even by herself—colored the girl's tone.
"What benefit did she promise you?"
"There's no benefit at all." Russell sprawled across the desk, looking extrely bored. "Yesterday, there was a rather delicate neighborhood dispute."
"Neighborhood dispute?"
"Don't worry about it. In the end, I apologized, she forgave , and we reached so sort of agreent."
"She ca to find the culprit in the Hannigan case, and until it's solved, I'm in charge of her breakfast and newspaper. That's all."
"I always feel like you're deliberately omitting sothing." Mary narrowed her eyes.
"I just skipped the unnecessary details to avoid dragging it out."
"Hmph…" The girl snorted softly, staring intently at Russell with an appraising gaze.
If he says it's unnecessary, it must be sothing very necessary.
"Why did the conflict between you two end up being settled through the Hannigan case?"
She pressed for an answer, thinking it was simply strong competitiveness on her part.
Russell shrugged. "I told her you contacted the Guardian. That way, we could prove Moriarty's innocence within a few days."
Hearing this, she felt she could do it too. There was no need to contact the newspaper—she could just arrest the culprit directly.
"And… well, you can guess what happened."
The mont she heard those words, Mary's smile froze.
Are you involved in this too? Can't even pay for living expenses?
It seems we need to hurry. We can't let that detestable man live much longer.
A sinister glint flashed in the girl's eyes for a mont before vanishing.
The two chatted casually for a few more minutes until the class bell rang and the professor entered through the door.
"Oh, right. Here's your notebook back." Russell took the notebook from his bag and handed it to Mary as usual.
Mary casually accepted it, opened it, and placed it on the table.
As the lesson progressed, the person sitting next to her gradually grew quiet and fell into a peaceful sleep like a baby.
Mary glanced sideways at him, then slowly looked away, idly flipping through the pages of the notebook with her fingers.
When she saw her own doodle depicting the two of them dancing together, she couldn't help but smile, the corners of her mouth lifting.
There were no new doodles nearby.
It was unclear whether the detective had been too busy with the investigation to draw, or simply lacked new inspiration.
In conclusion, in this confrontation, I hold the advantage.
The girl stared at the blackboard, wondering what she should draw today.
There isn't enough space on this page.
Thinking that, she turned the page, preparing to begin a new chapter.
And then she froze in place.
…
…
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