Excuses (Henry Ledore x Reader)

Prologue - Reunion at the Carnival

(Reminder: This story contains massive spoilers from 'Professor Layton and the Miracle Mask')

***

"Psss, Angela!", the little nine-year-old you call for her attention.

"What is it, (Name)?"

You move closer and whisper into her ear:

"When I grow up, I'm going to marry Henry!", you confess with rosy cheeks.

"Hee hee hee, really? Then, I'll let you in on my secret too! When I grow up...", she leans into your ear. "I'm gonna marry Randall!"

"Ha! I knew this one already!"

You both giggle with sheer delight. Angela then holds your hands in hers and says:

"Wouldn't it be a beautiful dream? The four of us living together and remaining the best of friends forever?", she sounds wholehearted. 

You nod briskly before hugging her tight.

"Of course, Angela! We'll all make this dream come true, no matter what! We'll always be together!"

Back then, this dream did not seem that far-fetched, you remember.

When you are young, everything is possible. You are invicible.

You know how to make each other happy.

There is hope for everything.

Or so you thought.

Randall probably felt the same way you did, at the time.

But in the end, all of you were only human.

Things have changed so drastically after Randall left.

He left, and, all that he left you, was broken promises.

Broken hearts.

Eighteen years spent remembering your tale of woes is an awfully long period of time in any person's life.

You feel like you have been moving on in slow motion. 

Willfully swimming against the tide.

Torturing yourself with hope.

Making excuses.

You walk through the crowd, ignoring the shouts of joy and admiration, oblivious of the grandiose carnival parade on Celebration Boulevard, covered in fairy lights.

Having a stroll, killing time until you can leave this place for good.

You are perfectly unwilling to enjoy any of the great spectacles and impressive feats the city of Monte d'Or has to offer.

"I only did it for the fans.", you repeat like a litany to give yourself a reason on why you have accepted to come here at all.

As you pass the gigantic marquee, you are suddenly distracted by a commotion across the street and hear the frantic cries of the crowd behind, now running in panic towards you. Jostled and pushed by people around you, you begin to feel nervous at the growing hysteria and take refuge in a narrow street. 

You lean against the wall to hide and immediately hear it.

The explosion and the cracking sound of a huge object falling on the road. 

The roar of the public intensifies and you detect more and more tourists running the opposite direction.

"They've been turned into stone!", someone yells with a high-pitched voice.

You feel your guts pressuring you to run for your life as well.

You hastingly go along the alley, heading to the shopping district, seemingly quieter than the Boulevard. However, you notice some pedestrians have stopped what they were doing to listen carefully.

"What was that?"

"Fireworks?"

"That sounded like a building collapsing!"

"Can it be another miracle?"

You move quickly to the direction of the Gallery Plaza, looking forward to hopping in the next tram to get back to your hotel.

Unfortunately, it seems to you everyone else had the same idea and the police are struggling keeping people in place.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please calm down!"

"The tram is out of service at the moment, it's too dangerous to use!"

"This place is cordoned off! We urge you to move!"

"We apologise for the inconvenience..."

The crowd protests angrily and tries to push its way to the wagons to no avail.

You stand back and go wait near one of the impressive pillars erected there, with a sculpture of a fierce horseman at the top. You take a notebook out of your bag and start writing down your observations.

Perhaps they could be useful for your next book?

After a while, the situation is eventually improving and people are slowly returning to their homes and hotels. Some are still talking to the police.

"Pardon me?", you hear someone interrupts you.

"Yes, Constable?", you reply after raising your head with an inquisitive look.

"May I ask you some questions regarding the incident on Celebration Boulevard? I assume you were there at the time it happened, weren't you?"

"I was indeed. But honestly, I haven't seen a thing..."

"Any information you can feed us with will be of great assistance. Grateful a name and surname?"

"Of course, my name is..."

The officer collects your testimony diligently, and you feel like he really has nothing else to do.

"I get that you haven't caught the culprit yet?"

"Unfortunately, the Masked Gentleman has long since fled the scene of the crime, but we assure you that us, d'Orian police, are on the beat twenty-four/seven to protect our citizens and visitors!"

The Masked Gentleman? What an eccentric, you tell yourself.

"Thank you for your hard work, Constable, it is much appreciated."

He briefly lifts his hat to salute you and goes looking for another potential witness to avoid twiddling his thumbs.

"Could it be...?"

You turn to the familiar voice you believed having long forgotten.

Astounding.

"Are you...?"

The man wearing a top hat is accompanied by a black-haired woman dressed with a fancy yellow outfit and a pink bow tie, as well as a little boy in blue with a matching cap.

"Oh my... (Name)! Is that you?", he exclaims in disbelief.

"Hershel!", you blurt out.

It really is the city of miracles, after all.

*

(1 September 2021)