Chapter 55
Clifford Anderson had always been a boy who lacked initiative.
He had little emotional range and had nothing he liked or disliked. There was nothing in particular he wanted to do, nor anything he particularly wanted to avoid.
So when told to study, he studied quietly, and when his mother told him to accompany her to a salon, he obeyed.
Clifford's mother was from Shezaria, the desert kingdom. She was a beautiful woman with ebony-black hair and mysterious eyes. She loved dressing up and visited salons almost daily, adorned from head to toe in finery.
Whenever she went out, she always took Clifford with her.
On such occasions, she dressed young Clifford in an outfit to match her own and told him:
'Listen, Clifford. Whatever you do, don't make a fuss like the other children. Stay quietly and properly behaved at Mother's side, elegant as a doll.'
His mother brought Clifford along to show off her son, whose looks closely resembled her own.
To his mother, Clifford was an accessory meant to enhance her own beauty.
An accessory never said anything unnecessary or moved around.
So Clifford never did anything unnecessary. He always remained still at his mother's side, like a doll.
──Oh my, what beautiful eyes. Your irises are rainbow-colored!
──He looks exactly like his mother. What an adorable child. Just like a doll!
──That dress shirt matches your mother's. How lovely!
Each time the ladies at the salon lavished praise on him, his mother would smile beautifully, her vanity satisfied, and stroke Clifford's hair.
'Yes, he's my pride and joy.'
Clifford had never been praised by his mother anywhere other than at a salon.
One day, his mother took Clifford to a tea party at the home of the Collet family, with whom she was well acquainted.
There were several guests at the tea party, all of them in the fashion business—in other words, all sharp-eyed connoisseurs. His mother's preparations were exceptionally thorough: she fussed over even a single wrinkle in Clifford's scarf, and he put on the clothes she had prepared exactly as instructed.
Clifford had never questioned this way of life. After all, it had always been simply 'the way things were' for as long as he could remember.
Clifford, who lacked initiative, had neither likes nor dislikes.
A doll without a will of its own simply accepted whatever it was given.
That day, Clifford had been dressed in a dress shirt covered in frills. Its fluffy, oversized bow tie made it look like a girl's outfit. The fabric and designs of each piece matched his mother's clothes.
As he sat primly, playing the doll that enhanced his mother's beauty, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Clifford did not turn around. He had no particular reason to react.
"Hey... Hey, you! Why are you ignoring me!?"
"..."
The person who had tapped Clifford's shoulder from behind came around in front of him and peered at him.
She was a flaxen-haired girl who looked a little younger than he was—seven or eight, perhaps.
Clifford remembered the girl's name. She was the daughter of the master of the house, Lana Collet.
"Did you choose those clothes yourself?"
"No. Mother always chooses my clothes."
He could have ignored her, but he had a feeling his mother would be displeased if he treated the master's daughter dismissively.
So Clifford answered only what she asked, in a flat tone.
Lana blinked her large eyes several times and looked up at Clifford.
"I can't believe it! You've never chosen your own clothes? Choosing them yourself is so much fun!"
"I see no need."
As long as he wore what his mother chose and devoted himself to playing the role of a doll, she was happy. There was no reason to wear anything else, was there?
Lana examined Clifford closely from head to toe, then took him by the hand with a look as though she had just thought of something.
"Hey, come over here!"
"I've been told not to move on my own."
"Then it's fine as long as you're not moving on your own, right? Mrs. Anderson, may I borrow Clifford-sama for a little while?"
When Lana called out to Clifford's mother, she agreed with a smile.
His mother and the other adults watched with fond smiles, as though they were watching an innocent little child.
(Ah, Mother wants me to keep Lana Collet happy.)
Realizing his mother's intention, Clifford let Lana lead him by the hand out of the tea-party room.
"This is the room!"
The room Lana led Clifford to by the hand was a spacious dressing room.
Its size and the sheer amount of clothing rivaled his mother's dressing room.
It contained clothing for people of all ages and both sexes. Apparently, it was not Lana's personal property, but some of Collet Trading Company's merchandise.
"Hey, hey, try on this shirt! And this vest, with... Hmm, this green one is tempting too, but the latest fashion is silver stripes. Yes, this blue one is best!"
"Bringing a member of the opposite sex into a private room and making him undress is hardly something a proper lady should do."
"But your clothes don't suit you very well!"
It was quite a rude thing to say to someone she had just met.
Most people would have taken offense, but Clifford's muted emotions left him thinking only: (This girl is an idiot.)
He had no interest in playing dress-up with this girl, but if he offended her, it would likely cause trouble later.
When faced with a choice, the rational thing was to choose the more rational option.
Clifford judged that going along with the girl's game was the most rational choice in this situation──and took the clothes Lana held out to him.
"Isn't this the same yellow as the one I'm wearing now?"
"Yellow or not, the shade is completely different! This yellow will suit your complexion much better!"
When he slipped into the shirt Lana had prepared, he saw that she was right: his complexion did indeed look a little brighter.
Clifford looked much like his mother, but his skin was different. Rather than the dark complexion of the desert people, his was light like his father's.
"Now, the tie goes like this, then this! The latest fashion is to finish it a little narrower! Oh, I need to pick out the cufflinks too! I want them to match your eye color..."
Saying that, Lana stared intently into Clifford's eyes.
His reflection in Lana's large eyes looked somehow different from usual.
(My mother and this girl are doing the same thing.)
Without asking what Clifford wanted, they thrust clothes at him and demanded that he change.
And yet, why did it feel different this time?
As Clifford pondered this, Lana's face suddenly lit up.
"Your eyes have a rainbow in that pale gray! They're so sparkly and beautiful! Shall we try pairing them with opals? Hmm, but finishing with elegant pearls would be lovely too... Hey, which do you prefer?"
"...Anything is fine."
"Then I'll choose the one that makes you look the most handsome!"
(Oh, I see.)
His mother chose Clifford's clothes to enhance herself.
But now, Lana was choosing clothes for Clifford's sake.
When Clifford changed into the clothes Lana had chosen, Lana proudly puffed out her chest.
"See? Don't they look wonderful?"
Clifford did not understand what was so wonderful about the clothes Lana had chosen.
Even so, watching Lana smile proudly with her eyes sparkling made his chest feel strangely ticklish...
It felt as though, for the first time in his life, someone had called him "wonderful."
Clifford Anderson was a person who lacked initiative and had little emotional range.
He neither liked nor disliked anything, and had nothing he wanted or did not want to do.
Even so, whenever Lana's eyes lit up and she proudly showed off something, saying, "Isn't it wonderful?!" the world seemed just a little more wonderful. Lana was gradually adding color to his colorless world.
That was why, to Clifford, Lana was the first thing he had ever liked.