Wait, Mili said that the fleeting had some connections with rays, didn’t she?
It was there, the direct confirmation of his own hypothesis.
Words that were uttered, not by him, but by the person who had more knowledge of this world than he could've ever had until now.
So with that spark of inspiration, Carter took the pencil on the table, sat down, and began by writing things under the image of the fleeting that was on the sheet of paper.
He wrote, 'Concept = lump of connections?’
He described the meaning of connections under what he wrote: 'dependence of two things, whether giving and getting or more like symbiotic, with both ends giving.’
Then, he tied the word fleeting and, the newly added word, rays.
And under the line were question marks, for he had no idea of what kind of relation the two had.
Carter tapped his head with the pencil.
The young boy had the feeling he forgot something.
Snapping his fingers, the realization hit him.
People could still have connections with other people without having to give or to get.
His eyes narrowed, but his left hand still wrote next to the two other types of connection: 'If neither can be applied, then the connection would only be loose.’
That last sentence, unfortunately, would mean that every connection could lead to nothing interesting, unless the concept of connections had powers that were unbeknownst to Carter.
For now, he just let it at that.
He breathed deeply.
While searching for other things he could tie with the fleeting, his thoughts wandered to the connection he just made.
That simple connection had a bit more meaning now that he understood that this lump of threads was the literal meaning of the concept of connection itself.
Now he wanted to know what type of connection they both had and why threads have such an importance in this world and, finally, what it had to even do with rays.
Not finding anything more to connect, he thought about things more clearly.
What are rays even? Are they some sort of worker? Well, Mili said it was a work, but did she even explain it to me last night? Or was she just spouting things that had no relevance? He did not really pay much attention to that specific conversation since she was just narrating some kid’s tales.
Then, another devastating thought crossed his mind.
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Wait, are rays even important? What if they are just clowns to entertain kids?
She was just about to explain them lore to me before she went out of the door.
Looking at the ceiling, he tried to recollect what she said.
And then his eyes narrowed again, finally recalling.
Fleeting and rays are connected; the appearance of the fleeting was last night, and Ash is a ray.
And after she told me their relation, she frowned and hastily went out the door…
Then...
His thoughts went further and further the more he spiraled, but at the end the road was blocked.
Even after switching his train of thought again and again, he was stuck on such a simple question.
Why? Why would she so hastily exit the room?
Again, Carter struck his head on a wall, though this time it wasn’t invisible but as hard as the thickest wall he knew.
So he shook his head fiercely, wiping those questions from his mind, deciding to stop the investigation for now, unless he wanted to go mad again.
Though now, fortunately, the young boy was sure that the connection between rays and the fleeting was direct and much more than just a loose one.
But the nature of the fleeting itself was left to be confirmed.
A gold mine was at his disposition when Mili was reciting her prayer, but Carter was unfortunate that the first half was totally blurred by his own mind.
So having no clue left, Carter decided to pause his theories and wait for when he would find more information.
Until then, whatever he concluded here would stay in his mind, waiting for their time to be relevant.
Looking at the paper again, he surprisingly liked the whole image. He was fascinated by how structured such a chaotic drawing was and how readable it was even though the symbols were so complex.
He compared it with his thoughts and realized, even though the drawing came from him, it surely didn’t seem like it, and knowing that it truly wasn’t made by him, he became a bit envious.
But most importantly, his mind wanted to accomplish such designs at least once in his life.
So, Carter took it as an opportunity to work on himself.
Being more organized would definitely help him a lot.
After a few seconds, his mind returned back to the physical world.
Folding the paper before putting it back into the drawer, Carter decided to do something else first.
Or rather, search for someone first.
After knowing that the man who put him to sleep was surely not Ash, the young boy decided to investigate a bit.
After closing the drawer of the table and putting the pencil in his trousers, with it being the only weapon he could use on himself, Carter got up from his seat.
The moment his socked feet landed on the creaking floor, his heart bumped faster.
He clicked his tongue.
Getting his injured right hand clench, the pain made him return to his senses.
Am I really this scared of just moving?
His paranoia was answering 'yes', wary that even the sun would turn on him as soon as he got out.
Thankfully, the pain was more grounded than any feeling could ever be.
Though the more he clenched his hand, the more his face grimaced.
The young boy walked to the wardrobe.
Still thinking about the possibilities of who the person might've been, he looked through the various wears available.
It was disturbing how he almost felt like the owner of said outfits, one even torn twice for his own needs.
Shaking his head, he told himself it was necessary.
With no intention of changing his nightwear yet and letting the gloves stay for obvious reasons, the only thing Carter looked at were the shoes that were under the outfits.
Choosing the most simple pairs out of the few that Ciel had, he realized they were all his size and was even more surprised at how much Mili and Ash had cared for this kid.
Shaking his head again, he looked at himself in the mirror next to the wardrobe.
The reflection was still one of a simple boy, both hands in his pockets and casually wearing a shirt and brown pantaloons that were all made for night outfits.
The only odd part about said kid was his own demeanor, with his gloved hands and odd expression, it felt like the boy wasn’t feeling in his own flesh.
Letting out a breath, he tried to smile but failed.
He tried again and again, but the more he tried, the uglier he found himself.
So in the end, he abandoned and uttered only four words.
"Such a cruel joke"
After a bit, he went down the corridor, determined.