1970—

It was a very good year.

There were no gallows growing legs and running around, trying to hang people; no bonfires fanning their flames to roast women alive on wooden frames. There was only an economy in freefall and paper money that had become worthless.

But even so, it was still a good time.

The mountains didn’t care about the tragedies of mortals. Neither did the sea.

When all was said and done, 1970 was a very good year.

Everything here was as it had always been, and everything was new.

“Turing... Turing!”

“Ha, hahaha...”

In the quiet bar, Merka suddenly jolted awake.

Still groggy, his body shuddered. His foot slipped, and he nearly fell off the tall stool.

A familiar hand slipped around Merka’s waist and, with a little effort, steadied him back on the stool.

Merka opened his bleary eyes—and found himself looking straight at Turing’s delicate, lovely face.

“I’m right here.”

Turing wore a black evening gown, one shoulder bare.

A quiet, deep fragrance drifted from somewhere, stirring Merka’s still-foggy mind.

Turing before him was like a black begonia bobbing in a stream, holding Merka’s gaze fast.

You didn’t often see Turing dressed like this.

Merka’s eyes widened. He stared at Turing’s noticeably more mature look, then quietly swallowed.

Reason told him he should first look around, take in his surroundings, clear his still-foggy head, and figure out what to do.

But he just couldn’t tear his eyes away from Turing.

He was like a tuna spotted by fishermen out at sea. From the moment he bit the hook, there was no escaping it.

And Turing’s black skirt was just the bait.

Like a baby in swaddling clothes, Merka clutched Turing’s arm. He parted his lips, wanting to say something, but no sound came out.

Turing’s intoxicating beauty left him speechless.

“Pfft.”

Turing laughed.

She curled a finger and lightly traced a circle on Merka’s shoulder.

“I’m yours... Merka, I’m yours.”

“You can think of me however you like... We’ve got plenty of time.”

【That’s right. We’ve got plenty of time.】

【It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way.】

【Or have I never felt this way in my life?】

Turing slowly eased Merka back onto the seat at the bar and spoke softly.

“...Turing, oh my god. Am I really looking at you right now?”

“Or are you just an illusion...?”

Merka’s brows furrowed slightly. His heart was in turmoil, and feelings he couldn’t suppress seemed ready to burst from his gentle eyes.

“What, am I not as innocent and cute as the Xixi you remember?”

Turing gave him a sly smile and asked in return.

“No! Uh, of course not. That’s not what I meant!”

“I’m just... I’m just afraid of losing you.”

“All those years of struggle and torment have made me a little neurotic.”

“I just can’t quite believe something this wonderful is happening...”

“I’ve missed you so much, Turing.”

Merka lifted one of Turing’s hands tenderly, turned it over, and pressed a heartfelt kiss to the back.