Professor Layton and the Rewound Repercussions –Part 9—

"You've returned."

"I never intended to stop, my boy."

Clive smirked. "It's been quite a while, you know. I had nearly thought I was free."

"Do you wish for me to stop coming?" The question was simple, but hung in the air ominously. Clive looked away.

"N…no."

"Then I shall continue visiting you." The professor smiled. "I apologize for my prolonged absence. You probably weren't aware, but student finals finished just recently. I promised myself I wouldn't take any unnecessary actions until the final hurdles were passed. Unfortunately, that meant having to neglect these meetings for a brief period."

"You don't need to explain it to me, professor. I understand completely."

"I thought you would." Layton tipped his hat in the boy's direction. "I would have been more concerned if I hadn't such faith in your comprehension."

Clive snorted. The professor was teasing him. "You have faith in a great many things, professor. Sadly, faith alone suffers in comparison to concrete evidence."

"Indeed it does. That's why our textbooks include diagrams of fossils and outlines of theories rather than drawings of navel-less couples and floating zoos." Layton chuckled, watching Clive fight back a laugh.

"It seems your wit doesn't fade with age. I can't say I've fared as well."

"I would have to disagree with you there. I've been speaking to a few of the staff, you know. It seems you've talked a good many employees into the ground."

"I have my hobbies." Clive shrugged. "In this line of work, they should be prepared for anything. I merely intend to test their aptitude for the job."

"Be kinder, Clive. Not all people are as gifted as you are."

Clive grimaced. "And I am not as gifted as all people."

"Nothing is permanent"

"I can't change the past. I believe we both learned that from our little adventure."

"I am not speaking about the past." Layton stood up, hefting his trunk onto the table. From it he pulled a sheaf of papers, the foremost of which he slid through the slot in the partition.

"What is this about?" Clive asked, taking the paper and glancing at it. "You don't mean to tell me…"

"Precisely." The professor closed the trunk and returned it to his side.

"I don't believe this."

"Believe it, Clive."

"Why are you doing this?" Clive bit his lip, confused. "I don't understand."

"It is not set in stone yet, obviously. I am merely offering this to you as an option to consider."

"I am legally an adult, professor. Going through such a tedious process would be a waste of time for both of us."

"If you accept, I believe it would be worth the effort."

"What makes you think I'll accept such a ridiculous arrangement?"

"Honestly? I don't. However, as I said before, it is an option I am willing to keep open for you."

"This would be in name only. There's no actual benefit to either of us at this point."

"I know," Layton replied, nodding.

"If you understand my sentiments as well as you seem to believe, answer me this, professor. Why did you either bother to set this up?"

"Forgive my assumptions, but I thought it would serve to provide you with something reasonably solid in what you seem to describe as an otherwise unstable life. Please consider it."

"Why would I do something so useless?" Clive returned the form to the table, tracing the edge with his finger. "I may be bored, here, professor, but I'm not that bored. This also has nothing to do with my current situation. It will not help me leave any sooner."

"I know, my boy. I will not force you to do anything against your will. This was merely meant as a tangible indication of my support."

"But, really, professor? Adoption?"