Nemo was the first to wake up.
Ann drew some defensive formations near the ruins, but apart from insects crawling around, almost no living thing touched them. At this moment, the female warrior was leaning against the corner of the wall in the ruins, sleeping soundly with her arms around her spear. Adrian hadn't slept at all since last night. His right hand was on the heart of his chest, and his lips moved silently. He should be doing morning prayers.
Nemo and Oliver were still leaning together when they fell asleep, but now his head was resting on each other's shoulders, and the other's cheek was on top of his head. Oliver was still asleep, breathing evenly and gently.
Nemo Wright didn't dare to move, and his whole body was so stiff that he fell into serious thought.
How to face Oliver next? He couldn't pretend that nothing had happened, and none of them were hot-blooded brats, and they couldn't indulge for a momentary impulse. There are just too many things to worry about right now, and the team isn't solid enough to endure too much emotion and its possible bad consequences.
But these are excuses, he knows.
Of course he could have turned down Oliver outright - he didn't seem like the stalker type, and they might be able to return to a happy friendship. A "no" word, simply and neatly solve all problems.
But he couldn't completely deny it.
It's strange, thought Nemo. He'd read too many love stories and never forgot a word he'd read. People always like to sing about love, and the burning emotion between the lines is forever completely separated from the reality he is in. Amorous people claim that it is as if the heart melted, as if the brain froze. It was as if they had swallowed a thousand bees, and their ears fluttered softly—as if the first time they saw it, the scene in front of them was divided into the loved one and the rest of the world.
Nemo really couldn't understand. During the ordinary days in Vincent Town, he and Oliver definitely passed by once or twice, and he was sure that there were no hallucinatory bees in his stomach other than stomach acid and food. Although he did find that he didn't care about gender as much as he thought, he was more concerned with another issue.
He didn't want to disappoint Oliver Ramon.
Like the last cookie in the Hungry Man's cupboard, or the first flower that blooms in summer, it's something very precious and fragile—he doesn't want to be wrong at any one step, and he doesn't have a clue about it all. For the first time he lost his way, and no book or person told him how to deal with the mood.
Maybe it was "cherishing," he thought.
Nemo leaned stiffly on Oliver's shoulder for a moment, his face extremely serious. Just when the knight commander raised his eyebrows at him, he finally made up his mind - Dylan's affairs alone are enough to worry about, and he is not a fifteen-year-old girl, there is nothing to dawdling about.
He raised his head, and Oliver was awakened, not unexpectedly. Their head rubbed his eyes in confusion and stared at the ruins in front of him for a few seconds.
"Oli." Nemo said very solemnly, as if he was informing the other party of whose funeral he was attending. "I can answer you."
"Huh?" Oliver replied blankly, "What..." He got stuck in the middle of the sentence, and his whole body was stretched straight - like an invisible executioner was wiping the blade behind him, ready to choose a moment to behead.
"First," Nemo said solemnly. "Don't be so nervous, I'm going to start getting nervous if you do... You're too fast, Ollie. I don't know if I like you."
Oliver's expression was solemn, and the butcher knife of the ghost executioner seemed to be stuck to his neck.
"So I can't give you a definite answer." Nemo stared intently at a button on Oliver's chest, then carefully looked up. "I don't want to be too casual with you."
Oliver's expression became more solemn, and his neck was probably half broken.
if. Nemo looked at the clear green eyes of the other party, and unconsciously had such an idea in his heart-if he would really "like" someone, then from the current point of view, that person could only be Oliver Ramon. But he wasn't sure if this was another self-suggestion illusion, and he didn't want to give the other party too much hope.
"So I have to reject you first." Nemo gritted his teeth, "I need time to figure it out—if this is clear, let me come next time I confess."
Seeing that Nemo Wright made the confession like paying for dinner, Oliver wiped his forehead in disbelief. "…I thought you'd mind gender first. Anyway, thank you for being straight."
"We may all be of different races." Nemo picked up the grey parrot, who was still asleep. "But what you have to say... If it's just this problem, I don't particularly mind giving it a try."
"So that's settled?" Oliver raised his eyebrows.
"That's it." Nemo patted Oliver on the shoulder with inexplicable pride.
The terribly embarrassing atmosphere finally dissipated a lot, and Oliver didn't look like that stomachache-like expression. The two stood up as if they had completed a major mission, and turned their heads—
The expression of stomach pain was transferred to Adrian's face at this moment, and he looked at the two of them silently, with an indescribable expression on his face.
Thank goodness Ann was still sleeping. The courage Nemo had just mustered out quickly—he didn't know if such an answer was appropriate, but he believed Ann would definitely pick him up and laugh at him for three days and three nights.
Then there is only one thing left.
When they found Isaac Delaney, the tall, thin old man and his wife were carrying the wrapped furniture into the carriage. The not-so-new fabric wraps loose objects, and occasionally sharp metal corners pierce through the thin textile, revealing a little reflection. Compared to yesterday evening, Mr. Delaney was obviously much older, and his always straight waist was slightly arched.
"You passed our mission." Oliver cleared his throat, "Thank you very much."
"Only the initial remuneration." Merotti's father didn't look at them, "You didn't kill the blue bird, I won't pay that part of the remuneration."
There was a suppressed trembling in his voice.
"I know," Oliver replied. "Are you leaving Vincennes?"
The old man's back froze: "No, but we do have to change places. Thanks to you, this place is no longer safe - now the mission is complete, what more do you want? Get out."
"Where's Merlot?" Nemo couldn't help but ask, "You—"
"She's not my daughter! She's not anymore!" Mr. Delaney roared, still not looking at them. "Even... I can't accept it!"
Oliver reached out in a restraining gesture and shook his head.
It's a pity. Nemo thought that Merorty Delaney's expectations might not be fulfilled until the end—he shrugged and turned away. Signal that you don't mind leaving.
At this time, Mr. Delaney threw the last luggage onto the carriage, and a piece of paper fell from the not tightly wrapped cloth bag and was swept by the wind to Nemo's feet. Nemo picked it up subconsciously—the handwriting on it was graceful, a bit close to the sacrificial language of the blue bird, with circles inside circles, exactly the same as the handwriting on the fairy tale.
He raised his eyebrows, turned around, and handed the sheet of music to the old man who was hesitant to speak—the latter quickly took it, then nervously tucked his cuffs.
In that brief glance, he saw the beautiful blue of the blue bird's feathers.
"Let's go, Ollie." This made him feel a lot better. "Oli...?"
Unlike his sunny heart, Oliver looked a little dejected, and Nemo was a little nervous: "What's the matter with you?"
"Jesse Dylan hasn't appeared yet." Oliver said unhappily, "Perhaps shamelessness is also a valuable ability, and I really want to sneak away while he's not there." Unfortunately, his skin is really not thick enough.
"You can't escape the fortune teller." A pleasant voice sounded. Jesse Dillon chewed the edge of the bread, and out of nowhere flashed out. He no longer carried the bag full of the corpse of the blue bird, not even the small duffel bag when he came, as if he was determined to go with them. "When are we going to do team registration, today? Tomorrow?"
"Intelligence." Oliver probably used the cold attitude he had accumulated for more than 20 years on the blond young man. "We go to the place closest to our destination to register."
"Oh oh, that." Jesse clapped the crumbs on her hands, took out a dry edge of bread from the paper bag, and began to stare intently at it.
"...This is divination?" Nemo whispered. "How does he infer my identity, the distribution of sesame seeds or the location of bran?"
As soon as he finished speaking, Jesse Dylan sighed and stuffed it into his mouth.
"Alban and Willard's border, Caleb Village on the other side of Alban, there's a witch there," he said vaguely. "She's good at exploring memories... You're not saying you can't remember childhood, Mr. Wright. Is something wrong? I think it's good for you to restore your memory. It's the most efficient at the moment—"
"From the edge of the bread?" An asked dryly.
"No, I've only seen her portrait." Jesse spread her hands, "Look, I'm not that good—you can't trust the bluebirds, they're extraordinarily deceiving, don't you think? . . . the witch was as old as rusks, I just recalled."
"But you will find some of the answers you want!" He quickly added when he found that Oliver's face was blue and he had a tendency to open his mouth.
"...Well, at least we don't need to do other tasks this month." Oliver squeezed the words out of his teeth, "If the results are not ideal, please leave by yourself. And from today, please don't play again. That kind of human game, Mr. Dylan."
"No problem." Jesse smiled and pointed to the carriage next to him. "Then one last time, let me tell you which car you can take—"
Fritz, who was also carrying luggage to the carriage, looked a little depressed. A girl with a somewhat familiar face was talking to him, her eyes shining. The young hunter was showing her a weak but sincere smile.
They have all seen her. Nemo remembered it very well—in the tavern next to the transfer station, they had seen Jesse Dylan holding her hand and divination for her.
"You will meet good things soon!" he said at the time.
Jesse Dillon smiled at him, seemingly aware of Nemo's sight. "I said that my divination is accurate. But on your side... You have to think clearly. I have a hunch that you may not like the answer."
,Wonderful!
(m.. = )