Icing on the Cake Chapter 30

The laughter mixed into the wind meant the pitch wasn’t perfectly accurate, but the song flowing from Cheriot was sweet and low. Yuri, seeing someone sing properly for the first time, was momentarily taken aback. It felt strange—almost embarrassing—that a real person, not a singer on a screen, could sing so pleasantly.

If he’d been a terrible singer, Yuri could have endured it, but the sight of him leaning back in his seat, smiling and singing, was so convincing that it made his whole body itch. Feeling that ticklish sensation all the way down his throat, Yuri swallowed dryly and barely managed to open his mouth to stop his singing.

“Just play the music instead. I can’t stand listening to you.”

“Ah, that’s a shame. We were just getting to the best part!”

Yuri turned his head and glared at him in earnest, and Cheriot shrugged his shoulders playfully, pretending to be disappointed.

“Well, can’t be helped. The performance will have to wait for next time.”

Having ultimately gotten what he wanted, Cheriot fiddled with his phone a few times before reaching for the volume knob. As his slender fingers turned the dial, music began to flow through the car. Yuri had worried it might be some embarrassing pop song like the one he’d just heard, but what came out was the gentle, lively sound of an acoustic guitar.

Almost heaven, West Virginia, Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River.

Life is old there, older than the trees, younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze.

It was a song he’d heard somewhere before. The car had now left the rest area and entered the sun-drenched highway. The daytime scenery of Highway 1 greeted them in a way Yuri had never imagined.

Vast, lush mountains stood on both sides of the road like fences guarding the way. Past the sprawling meadows, coniferous trees stretched skyward as if marking countless ages of time, and the massive peaks waiting for them in the distance ahead appeared made of white, chiseled stone, looking as if they were covered in snow.

Country roads, take me home to the place I belong.

West Virginia, mountain momma, take me home, country roads.

The sunlight streaming down from the cloudless, vivid blue sky stabbed painfully at his eyes. Yuri couldn’t help squinting against the harsh brightness. Through the window Cheriot had thrown wide open, a cool breeze filled the car. The song mingled with the air, and the sweet scent of chocolate bars drifted from beside him.

Ten days.

Yuri took in the magnificent view before him and whispered.

Just ten more days of this, and he could return to being himself again.

As he repeated that to himself, Yuri’s blue eyes—perhaps because of the sunlight—shone with a beautiful, transparent color just like the sky above his head. It was the original color of Yuri’s eyes, the one that could never be seen in the shadows.

∞ ∞ ∞

There were many small pebbles on the highway. During the forty-mile drive, Yuri watched the marks left by stones that struck the windshield and vanished, and he understood why his customers often brought their cars in with tiny chips on the front glass. It was because they traveled.

Having witnessed firsthand a fact he’d only known in theory from his father, he realized that his father too must have heard about it from someone else. The Kiselov men had never gone on any trips.

He had plenty of experience driving long distances, but that wasn’t travel. He’d never had the leisure to pay attention to pebbles bouncing off the windshield, and since he mostly drove on dark night roads, there was no scenery to see. Someone undertaking a journey where death was always a possibility didn’t have time to notice trivial things.

Driving along Highway 1 in broad daylight, Yuri encountered views that felt like something out of a movie. The highway, carved through the center of high-altitude mountain ranges, made the peaks draw closer and then rise higher in repetition, with glacier-capped summits visible here and there. Along the way, he saw several clear rivers with a bluish-green tint, almost turquoise. Their color was like something from a painting.

Just as Highway 1 ended and they were about to turn onto Highway 93, Cheriot, who had been quiet for a while, finally spoke.

“There’s a truly beautiful lake near here. It’s named after a British princess—have you seen it?”

Yuri glanced briefly at Cheriot. So even a chatterbox like him couldn’t talk all day long, he thought, but looking at his face, he seemed to have just woken up. He’d been sitting still with his head turned toward the window, so Yuri had assumed he was awake.

“Go back to sleep.”

Of course, Yuri had never seen any beautiful place like the one he was talking about. The most beautiful sights Yuri had ever seen were his friend and his father smiling, and next, the peaceful sight of Vancouver he’d encountered after escaping from hellish Saratov. Those two things were enough for him, so rather than traveling to see spectacular views, he preferred to work.

“Oh, was it obvious I fell asleep? Sorry. I dozed off without meaning to.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He’d resolved not to prolong conversations unnecessarily, but he couldn’t help asking because he didn’t understand. What did someone like him have to apologize for?

Of course, grabbing his wrist without permission was something to apologize for, but he’d decided to let that go now.

“They say the passenger’s role is important during long drives. Keeping the driver from dozing off by talking, handing them food and drinks—that’s basic etiquette.”

It was the first he’d heard of it. It seemed far more efficient to just take a nap and then switch drivers rather than spending time chatting and tending to someone, but the etiquette Cheriot spoke of sounded utterly unnecessary to him.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard such a thing.”

Yuri muttered to himself in disbelief, but Cheriot heard him. Stretching, Cheriot rolled the window all the way down, stuck his fingers out into the rushing wind, and raised his voice.

“Basic etiquette for a passenger. The person riding covers the fuel costs. The passenger feeds the driver drinks and snacks for their convenience. They talk so the driver doesn’t fall asleep, and sometimes they sing to lift the mood.”

Having recited the rules in a clear, gentle voice, Cheriot turned his head to look at Yuri. When their eyes met, he flashed a bright smile and curved his green eyes prettily.

“It’s a special Gutnight family rule. In that spirit, shall I sing for you?”

Cheriot’s smile was as radiant as his appearance. His reddish-gold hair whipped in the wind, still dazzlingly bright under the sunlight. The sight looked as if the wind itself had been shaped into color, and Yuri squinted and turned his head away. He’d been distracted for too long.

“If it’s for the driver’s convenience, then I’d prefer you keep your mouth shut.”

“The weather’s too nice for that.”

Cheriot laughed lowly and began talking about the lake he’d mentioned earlier.

“Lake Louise was formed by melting glaciers, so the water is freezing cold. Once, I jumped in without preparing and almost had a heart attack. There are many pretty lakes near Banff, but none are as emerald-colored as Lake Louise. That’s why a lot of people go there, but it’s definitely worth visiting at least once.”

Yuri kept his eyes fixed ahead and briefly imagined what Cheriot was describing. The river he’d seen earlier had already looked incredibly beautiful to him, and just glimpsing such a scene already felt like a luxury.

Traveling to see some scenery was something only the privileged could do. In this world, too many people lost their lives in vain without ever getting the chance to see beautiful sights. His mother had been one of them.

“From here on, it’s the Icefields Parkway. If we keep going straight, we’ll reach the Paradise I told you about. Lake Louise is beautiful enough, but it can’t compare to Paradise. I’m sure you’ll like it too.”