Kiyotaka Ayanokōuji. [؟Freedom of Mystery]

Simplicity [1]

The white flakes were slowly descending in the late evening. The lonely figure walked down the street along the stone walls. The snow, taking it's time, stared to settle on the ground at a faster rate.

The figure took hurried steps, looking around there was not any vacant hansom.

"This is going to be troublesome..."

The snow started to pile up, even the cold wasn't much of an issue but being out on a snow cold night was indeed troublesome.

Wearing a long black coat, releasing the warm breath occasionally, under the hat, the figure looked at the far end of the road. It wasn't much long before he was going to reach his destination with his hands deep in his pockets he hurried forward.

The gas lanterns on the mossy walls outside the doors lighted up the snow although not too bright but still provided sufficient light. The london streets were not ment to be busy at this hour of clock, chimneys produced smoke that now, floated beneath the dark sky.
The snow clad streets imprinted of steps of few people who had been out too late and the sound of the his own steps were the person's only companion.

Reaching infront of the door, taking off his hat he wiped off the snow from him and stepped inside.

It was bright and warm inside as the lights shone on the person revealing a fine handsome boy about nineteen, graceful brown hair with the same grace in the golden eyes, he stood not more than five feet eleven. Lean and fit body with smooth skin.

He hung his coat and started to ascend the stairs.

"Oh boy. Is that Mr. Kiyotaka."
A gentle and brisk voice of an old man rang from below.

A man in his sixties came out, leaned back and low tired shoulders, little hair and wore a pleasent smile. Wearing a sand coloured suit, he walked around with a air of a caring man with a decent attitude.

"You should not stay out for too long, Mr. Kiyotaka, as you might already know the weather changes with no prior notice."

Kiyotaka nodded back in agreement.
"I apologise Mr. Clark, if I had worried you."

"No no, my boy, it is alright."
Ardison Clark said raising his hand.

Ardison Clark was a widower, retired army general who spent his days serving in Indian subcontinent from where he had made a good fortune. He had no child from his wife when she died at a young age of twenty nine. Now he spent his days owning a two storey apartment at London streets.

"Have you read the evening news?,"
Mr. Clark said producing a printed newspaper from his back and handing over to Kiyotaka. "The forces seem to be on high spirits lately."

Kiyotaka observed the front page that were full of praises directed towards authorities where they solved a murder case and tracked down the murderer with minute evidences. The similar brilliance had been displayed by the scotland yard lately on several cases.

Kiyotaka ascended the stairs as
Mr. Clark retired to his room. Kiyotaka pushing open door to his room, drew the blinds and lit up the fireplace, laying back in the old fashioned armchair, Kiyotaka surveyed the paper.

The quick succession at which the cases were being solved, indeed, the forces were getting external help, as reported, Kiyotaka knew the methods used to find the murderer were not that of the scotland yard. But that was not issue for now, Kiyotaka spend some time reading the paper before finally putting it down and leaning back his head.

Kiyotaka stretched his legs towards the fireplace looking through the gap between the blinds, the heavy snowfall outside aroused a comfortable feeling while being inside.