Yeah, I Went Missing

When Sherlock woke up as usual, put on his pajamas, and went downstairs for breakfast.

But then I saw two familiar yet unfamiliar figures at the dining table.

"Iver?"

Sherlock stopped in his tracks as he walked down the stairs and murmured to himself.

Iver, who should have been in a wheelchair being pushed over by Lily, was now sitting comfortably on a stool. He appeared to have fully recovered.

Lily didn't stand behind Iver, but sat down next to him.

After only a week apart, Sherlock keenly sensed that the tacit understanding between master and servant seemed to have deepened.

"You look much better, Sherlock."

Hearing the voice, Iver turned around and greeted him with a smile, "It seems you've settled in quite well with the Bishop."

It's still early, but Sherlock doesn't seem sleepy; his biological clock must have adjusted.

It's also possible that his hypoglycemia was treated—his previously almost sunken cheeks had noticeably filled out, and his somewhat dry hair had regained its shine. Considering this, perhaps his previous hypoglycemia was simply a result of his unhealthy lifestyle.

"Really."

Sherlock nodded instead.

He leaned against the stair railing, a smile playing on his lips, "At first, I was indeed a little unaccustomed to it, because I was usually dragged by Mr. Kent to handle some troublesome cases. Suddenly having so much free time made me feel uncomfortable all over."

"But once I got used to it, I was able to calm down and focus on reading and research. I am grateful to Ms. Mina. When I lived alone, I was often too lazy to eat, but she would always remind me in time. In addition, I have been able to relax more recently and there is not so much work rushing me around... I can eat three meals a day and keep regular hours. I feel that my health has improved a lot."

Mr. Hermes was very optimistic about his own body.

Iver leaned back in his chair. "I think it's the same if you live in your own home."

"No, no, no, that won't do."

Sherlock frowned immediately. "It's not that I dislike them—well, my family actually prefers quiet."

As Sherlock spoke, he strode down the stairs.

He sat down next to Iver before continuing, "Do you know Mycroft's 'Barrel' Club?"

"Your brother?" Iver asked.

"Yes," Sherlock nodded, "Unless something comes up, he's there at the same time every afternoon. I think it's the weirdest club on Glass Island, full of oddballs."

"As you know, Avalon enjoy socializing in various clubs. Joining different clubs is often their way of meeting new friends and entering new circles. But not everyone enjoys socializing; there are always some who are withdrawn, unsociable, or simply don't like socializing. However, just because they are withdrawn doesn't mean they have to stay in the shadows."

"The Wooden Barrel Club is run by Mycroft. You should have met him by now, right?"

Sherlock then asked a question.

Iver nodded, recalling the man at Sherlock's funeral who was at least three sizes bigger Sherlock, but had a gentle demeanor and a sharp mind. "Yes, he was indeed a very intelligent man."

"The rules of the Wooden Barrel Club are that no one is allowed to talk to each other or exchange words. The club is very large, with comfortable facilities and excellent lighting."

"Members can sit in any room they want, drinking tea, reading, doing exercises, drawing, and reading newspapers. The club provides free tea and the latest periodicals of all kinds, both entertainment-oriented and academic. They can also find someone to play chess, but the rules remain the same—no talking, no strange behavior, no loud noises, and no attracting attention."

... Isn't that a study room? Iver suddenly became interested. "I think it's pretty good."

"As for the atmosphere alone, I think it's actually pretty good. It's just that it's a gathering place for all the weirdos from Glass Island, like..."

At this point, Sherlock paused slightly. "According to my investigation, the sculptor Lars Graham also frequents that place."

This is a code that only the two of them can understand.

—This is the name of "Bone Carver".

"But I've never joined the Wooden Barrel Club because I'm not really good at staying quiet for long... When my train of thought breaks down, or when I'm too bored, my mind easily becomes restless. At that time, I'll do some boxing, or practice shooting and swordsmanship, or play the violin to excite my brain that's about to fall asleep."

"As a result, whenever I'm home, my family thinks I'm acting like a child. And there are a lot of rules in the house, and only Mycroft can always please them. It's best if I go back occasionally, so I can feel the warmth of my family and not be too annoying. After a day or two, I have to go back to my own place—for one thing, you won't get any business if you stay at home."

Sherlock explained.

"Ah, I understand."

Iver nodded, understanding.

It's like when a child who works or studies in another city returns home. For the first few days, everyone is incredibly attentive and caring. But after less than a week, they become universally disliked and constantly scolded.

Especially someone like Sherlock, with his chaotic schedule, poor appetite, occasional seclusion for a day or two, and frequent commotion at odd times... he certainly wouldn't be treated as well in his own home as the mature, stable, and worldly-wise Mr. Mycroft. No wonder he moved out; at least he wouldn't get scolded.

But Sherlock and the Bishop weren't that close. He was practically a stranger, and also a savior, so Sherlock felt a bit awkward around him and had to maintain a certain level of politeness. So when Ms. Mina called him for dinner, he had to obediently come down to eat. And so a week passed, and Sherlock's biological clock somehow managed to reset.

Iver marveled, thinking that this must be a case of one thing subduing another.

"Why don't you just stay here indefinitely?"

Ms. Mina took breakfast for four people and distributed it on the table.

She smiled at Sherlock and said, "You're going to look for a new house anyway, right?"

Upon hearing this, Sherlock hesitated and became somewhat reserved. "But... won't this be too much trouble for you?"

"Then you can pay the rent."

Ms. Mina smiled and said, "I can't rest easy knowing you're living alone."

She and Mathers had never had children. And over the past few days, she had gradually realized that Sherlock was indeed a good boy. But his lifestyle was truly worrying... Mina was almost certain that if Sherlock were allowed to rent a place, he would probably revert to his old ways in less than a month.

She had worked so hard to restore Sherlock's health, and she didn't want all of that to be for nothing.

"Anyway, Mathers and I don't have any children, and it's not good to have more than half of the rooms in such a big house empty all the time. No one lives on the second floor anyway, so it's not a problem to cook for one more person. It's just a matter of having an extra set of cutlery."

"...Then I'll ask Bishop Mathers later."

Sherlock was clearly tempted. "But wouldn't it be a hassle for you if someone came to visit me?"

"It's alright, I can handle this. Your presence here is also a way of attracting business for my shop."

Mina laughed, "The stairs in my fortune-telling shop lead to the second-floor living room. Why don't you turn the second-floor living room into your office?"

Since Ms. Mina had brought it up, Sherlock felt embarrassed to mention moving out.

"Thank you very much for taking me in, Ms. Mina."

Sherlock said seriously, "I don't have any money on me right now, but I'll bring the rent later."

"It seems I have witnessed a good thing."

Iver laughed.

This way, I'll have an excuse to come over and visit more often.

"By the way, where's today's newspaper?"

Sherlock asked softly, "I'd like to read the newspaper while we eat."

During this period when he was unable to contact others, his understanding of Avalon relied entirely on various newspapers.

"Be careful not to get it dirty here."

Iver handed over the Glass Staircase Newspaper he had been reading. "Or do you want a different newspaper?"

"This one will do."

Sherlock glanced at it and casually said, "You're in the headlines again... huh?"

He looked closely and then he could see the content of the headline.

The young hero Iver Moriarty, who has earned the Holy Sword Badge, has been kidnapped from his school by Demon Worshippers and is now missing!

Sherlock glanced at the newspaper, then looked up at Iver, who had handed it to him.

"... Now missing?" Sherlock repeated uncertainly.

"Uh-huh."

Iver shrugged. "Yeah, I'm missing."

Chapter Two will be a little later~