Appearance is a word used by socialites, and high aristocrats to maintain their face and dignity. The mask used is unmitigated as attractive as possible to attract his opponent. Like flowers emit fragrant seductive bees, that's greed for the thirst of their people's popularity.

Oh, but did you know that market share by displaying good stuff even if it's just a gimmick will be well eaten? That's right, that's right, very clever of their minds when they are deceived. Want to know their other smarts? Yes! They bought it and only got angry when they got the fishy prey.

Enough with the prediction. The gist of what he wanted to say was that he also used the same method as them but was different from them.

Then?

Good question. So here are the details.

He is a perfect portrayal of justice. Never looked down on people in his eccentric behavior. Taking cases that he thought were interesting and drowning using drugs. Emotionally out of control for thrilling occasions, talkative spits out a series of random phrases in his clever brain. Incredible observations and bizarre descriptions hit the mark, imprisoning criminals while killing the fun. Yes, he's not that odd who chooses pleasure over peace.

The Enigma of the perfect mind is said by close people because of random ideas and reasoning.

That's not what people say about him?

"And one perfect crime solved well by London's best detective. Bravo! Excellent!"

An annoyed chuckle peeked out between the thick nicotine sips of their opium. The soft sound of jazz from the edge of the stage by piano and cello players completes his odd day. The eccentric in front of him didn't fix anything with a slick newspaper in his hand, the paper just came out this morning.

"Say, esteemed professor, would you rather see an insane article than hear a new mathematical theorem I developed a few minutes ago? I think it suffices for the scientific writing you are currently working on? I should call my friend, Dr. Watson, to take down everything I tell you about theory, that?"

The teacup lifted dramatically, inhaled deeply then sip by the pale lips of a man. His posture doesn't catch on well because he's sitting, and his fancy clothes look but. Neat as royalty in general, complete with pocket watch and gloves, tie, high hat, walking stick, all the shiny things you can find! Too lazy to describe the existence of an inanimate object attached to it, as the observer said.

His tired eyes expressed a long sigh from his nose. The cold cup of coffee was drunk immediately until it was finished then ordered for the umpteenth time from the passing waiter. The sound of folding newspapers being placed on a small wooden table, perhaps wanted to be given so that the other person also read the article written there.

Of course, with the spirit of refusal, it came out smoothly.

"You don't have class?"

"My title will not remain in the academy, as additional information for you."

An exasperated cry was heard. His feet pounded the floor fast, there was a pounding in his heart but not from the coffee he drank, nor from the medicine he had injected last night. Doctor Watson's friend also said this morning his body was fine.

"Would you like to go for a walk? Looks like your oxygen line has been partially blocked and your shoes are screaming in anger from that quick slam on the poor wooden floor."

The man was annoying with his pun. Then the two of them went out of the small restaurant earlier. Down the path with many people passing by beside it.

His dark eyes twitched, glaring at some people as if eating them in his habitual analysis.

"Don't stare too much like that, pity your veins are pulled until red," the adult man next to him took a cigar and lit it until the nicotine smoke once again enveloped the two of them.

Not bothered to respond to trivial remarks, the respectable detective lord reached into his coat pocket only to find there were no cigarette butts.

Chuckling softly expressed his crushing defeat. Unusual and no one knows the truth. Dizzy thinking, even a hint will disappear before the living stick sniffs it.

Took a while for the journey to take place. Now they were standing right in the sound of the liquid hydrogen called water, water that was rushing so fast that an adult human body could drag it.

The two of them stood at the end, getting splashed by water but neither of them cared.

Tobacco is still burning. The thick smoke overpowered the sound of the crickets and the swift current of water ahead. Silence envelops like talking through each other's minds. Maybe he's reading minds, who knows how the brains of geniuses like these two departed.

However, is it true that the word departed?

"Are you sure you're doing this? I'm actually too lazy to get wet," the words reluctantly escaped from the wrinkled lips of the man beside him. A mood that has not improved too much may be one cause.

"If you're scared just say so. My bones are still strong when asked to climb mountains and down valleys," he joked who was on another level from local comedians.

And stop. The afternoon was spent on short, meaningless conversations.

***

Night broke out, not morning because the circular just came suddenly. Running and screaming were everywhere. The residents panicked, ignoring the torn dresses because they were stepped on or missing hats, or limited to cloth bags containing food that had been stolen on a narrow occasion.

The warm steam from his favorite tobacco still lingered, he didn't know when he wanted to turn it off.

"Fire doesn't like water," he sneered as if the person was stupid and didn't know easy things.

A chuckle resembling laughter sounded, "the ship is ready, the destination is New York, or is it too big for your capacity?"

Not just a joke, but raw food was eaten by him.

"Whatever. But sharks like to migrate so don't leave a blood trail even if you go to hell."

The wand he used to use was slowly devoured by the rushing water. His smile grew wider as the footsteps continued his countdown. The old eyes that looked relaxed, met the irritating dark eyes that maintained their twinkling.

"Hell is empty, and the demons are here. Maybe now I can rule that barren land on my own," he said quietly before gravity took over his motions.

Data ushered him off, "if only that happened soon," and the clatter of police shoe soles shattered the chirping of sparrows at dawn.

***

Once upon a time, there were no weeping tears and no funny laughs. The kind of complicated combination of chemicals on the periodic table as well as the way life is tangled in the middle of other threads.

At first, he was happy and overjoyed to get a new toy. Perfect family with Dad, Mom, and older brother.

Like an old film that keeps playing until the tape runs out, that's what happened to him too.

Escape is a child's choice, and he is a child. Certainly not to blame.

The starting cage that encloses him slowly rusts, all iron must rust. As the outlook on life begins to change, so does it. He was tired or was it just an excuse to cover up his sense of adventure. And people say don't be too excited if you don't want to fall.

His name is a naughty child, he must have violated.

The old man not how old he was laughed watching it. Only then did someone pity him in the most annoying way for a size young and old. His trademark might be, and he didn't want to dwell on it too much.

Analysis after deduction came out, only to be greeted by an empty void. As his eyes began to lose light, so his lungs began to get sick of accommodating nicotine fumes.

Age may be young, but it will not rule him out to feel what 'life' is. The spectacle of society he had learned in the majestic mansion. Wealth is no longer gold. Some things are eager to achieve that is hiding behind the clouds of the blue sky.

It's a pity, dear, because the one thing that is a reality is that he will not, never will, and never will ever, catch up with holiness between his filthy, fishy hands.

***

"That's the story. As you know this season is more extreme than before. The current wind is too strong to save yourself. Not even a breath, I'm sure the shark has eaten his body. After all, what madman would so easily throw himself in the satisfaction of 'perfect crime' sort of?

"But I don't see any sign of fighting there? Is it true that you're pulling the hair on his bald head, wait how do you pull out hair when he's bald!?"

"Lestrade, Lestrade, you are too stupid in the imagery things like this. My friend, Doctor Watson is smarter than you."

His expression was plainly tired of hearing scornful remarks, "If you want to say I'm just as stupid just say so. Now tell me clearly what you mean."

"Aha! What is this!? It turns out that my best friend, Watson, now knows how to interrogate me! Glad to be a teacher!"

The crunch of knuckles sounded loud, "even so, what I mean is that after trying various ways, it is true that old Moriarty fell and his body will never be found. the unethical weight mentioned is now in his coat pocket. Of course, he won't survive the aftermath of the blow with the waterfall wall."

***

The evening walk is back and forth. Tobacco does not land on the edge of the lips, only held as expensive accessories.

His vision was foggy, tired of sitting all day standing for hours in the dull room of his acquaintance inspector. A sense of pride could fill his body that he just realized.

"Departing at nine o'clock. Make sure you wear thick clothes to cover that fat on your belly."

The clicking sound of his tongue accompanies the rest of the time. Cleaning clothes was not his hobby so surely he would come empty-handed.

"Looks like Watson is going to scold me because he's going to have to pay the rent on his own from now on," a splash of sweetness sent the familiar scent back into the air.

The rest of the time will be spent lazing around, the case is over so he must be bored.

"He may also be right, America will be a new challenge after this," as big as a cage that surrounds him, now the flap of wings can spread to cross the vast ocean.

***

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Huh!? I'm with this old geezer? Don't fantasize," said the child whose leg was being bandaged by an older youth.

The young man let out a small chuckle instead of scolding him. "Hey, you want to know the secret of fun?"

A look of disbelief was given from the boy's dark eyes, "I can't believe it until you show it, old man."

"Old man— I'm still a teenager in case you forgot, brat. As long as you want to come with me then the secret will be visible to you."

"Unbelievable," behind that, there was a high curiosity about this 'secret' talk. His bandaged leg swung slowly, staring at the man who was unsure when he had grabbed his teacup.

"The sky is beautiful, isn't it?" Start the child.

"It is," the smile still hadn't left his face. "When you finally be there I'm sure the treasure that you hunt until then had been found."

***

There was one time he didn't believe in his abilities. Covered by the achievements of the older brother, influence, and pressure from parents. As a child, he was lazy to serve all that.

Living freely is his dream, it's true that even though he has run away he never gets what his heart aspires to be.

The afternoon was mourning, now he is missing from the public eye. The alabaster is his legacy, on purpose for sure. Behind a shady tree once again he thought backward. The house he lives in has changed and will repeat itself, is it true that freedom can reach him?

Don't know if you haven't tried it yet. But that feeling again came to him like when it rained in the evening. Where his hand reached out and made him feel what it was like, allowing him to do whatever his heart wanted.

Now his heart is no longer bound by public opinion and insistence on perfection from others.

Now that he could be what he wanted to be, there was no longer any need to work to satisfy the crazed cravings of sycophants.

He can now walk with his arms outstretched and carry out his will.

My best friend and wherever he is, he will be like the freest universe with the help of the canvas of the sky that accompanies him.

—J.H.W