The atmosphere in the teahouse grew cold and heavy.
I had tried to ask as calmly as possible, but judging by the turtleâs expression and his labored breathing, it seemed my words had landed differently than I intended.
A slight tremor ran through his beard.
Though his narrowed eyes werenât entirely visible, they were unmistakably focused on me, and even the staff he gripped was trembling.
The turtle, who had previously displayed mild irritation, now seemed completely transformed.
Had I made a mistake? While I quietly observed him, he finally spoke, breaking his long-held silence.
âWhat⦠what did you just say?â
Was he pretending not to have heard me? Or was he acting as though he hadnât understood? Either way, I repeated myself.
âI asked if you happen to know a way to travel back to the past or into the future.â
Hearing the same question again, the turtleâs eyebrows twitched violently.
âWhy do you ask such a thing?â
His words and reaction gave me pause.
That responseâ¦
âDoes that mean itâs possible?â
If it werenât, he couldâve simply said no. His wariness suggested that something did exist.
However, it was clear he was highly reluctant to discuss it.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
âI was just curious.â
âYour curiosity is⦠peculiar.â
âWell, you use such unusual techniques. I was wondering if something like that was possible too. Just a small curiosity.â
I tried to dismiss it lightly as a casual remark, but the turtleâs reaction was anything but casual.
âThen donât be curious about it.â
âPardon?â