[V4C13] What A Certain Boy Likes

Clifford Anderson had always been a boy lacking in motivation.

Devoid of emotional fluctuations, he neither liked nor disliked anything. He couldn’t think of anything he particularly wanted to do, nor things he didn’t want to do.

So, when told to study, he silently studied, and when asked to accompany his mother to the salon, he complied.

Clifford’s mother was a woman from the desert kingdom of Shezaria, possessing beautiful features, jet-black hair, and mysterious eyes. She loved dressing up, adorning herself from head to toe every day, and frequently graced the salon with her presence.

Whenever she went out, she always took Clifford with her.

During such occasions, his mother would dress young Clifford in outfits coordinated with her own attire and instruct him with words like these:

“Listen, Clifford. Never make a fuss like other children. Be elegant like a doll. Stand by your mother’s side, quiet and well-behaved.”

His mother took Clifford with her to show off the son who resembled her.

For his mother, Clifford was an accessory to enhance her own image.

Accessories don’t speak out or move unnecessarily.

So, Clifford refrained from any unnecessary actions, always standing by his mother’s side like a motionless doll.

——My, what beautiful eyes you have. Those irises shine in all the colors of the rainbow!

——Such a resemblance to your mother. What a lovely child. Just like a doll!

——That dress shirt matches your mother’s, doesn’t it? How lovely!

Each time the ladies at the salon praised him, his mother would smile beautifully, her self-esteem fulfilled, and she would pat Clifford’s hair.

“Oh yes, he’s my pride and joy.”

Clifford had never received such praise from his mother outside of the salon.


One day, Clifford was taken by his mother to attend a tea party hosted by the Colette family, whom they were acquainted with.

The attendees of the tea party were all people in the fashion industry. In other words, all were connoisseurs, so his mother’s enthusiasm was intense. Clifford was incessantly guided on everything, from the folds of his scarf to the wrinkles on his clothes. He obediently wore the outfit his mother had prepared for him.

Clifford had never questioned his way of being. After all, he had been like that for as long as he could remember.

Lacking the motivation for anything, Clifford had neither likes nor dislikes.

A doll without a self merely accepts what it is given.

On that day, Clifford was dressed in a frilly dress shirt. The large, fluffy bow tie looked like it belonged on a girl’s outfit. All of them were coordinated with fabrics and designs matching his mother’s clothes.

As he sat politely like a doll to enhance his mother’s image, someone tapped Clifford’s shoulder.

Clifford didn’t turn around. He had no particular reason to react.

“Hey… hey! Why are you ignoring me!”

“…”

The person who tapped Clifford’s shoulder from behind circled around to his front and peered into his face.

It was a girl with flaxen hair. She appeared a few years younger than him, around seven or eight.

Clifford remembered the girl’s name. She was Lana Colette, the daughter of the mansion’s owner.

“Did you pick out that outfit yourself?”

“No. My mother always chooses my clothes.”

Ignoring her would have been fine, but disrespecting the daughter of the mansion’s owner might sour his mother’s mood.

Thus, Clifford answered in a matter-of-fact manner.

In response, Lana blinked her large eyes a few times and scanned over Clifford.

“Really! Have you never chosen your own clothes? Choosing for yourself is so much fun though!”

“I don’t feel the need.”

If wearing the clothes his mother chose and playing the role of a doll pleased her, then there was no reason to wear anything else.

Lana scrutinized Clifford from head to toe and then, with a look of inspiration, took Clifford’s hand.

“Come over here!”

“I’ve been told not to move on my own.”

“Well, then it’s fine if I take you, right? Mrs. Anderson, I’ll borrow Clifford-sama for a moment!”

When Lana addressed Clifford’s mother, she smiled and agreed.

Both his mother and the surrounding adults watched with affectionate eyes, like they were observing playful children.

(I see, Mother must want me to placate Lana Colette.)

Sensing his mother’s intentions, Clifford allowed Lana to take his hand, and they left the tea party room.


“This way!”

Lana led Clifford by the hand to a spacious dressing room.

In terms of size and the quantity of outfits, it was no less impressive than his mother’s dressing room.

The room was filled with items for various age groups. Apparently, these were not Lana’s personal belongings but part of the Colette Company’s merchandise.

“Hey, hey, try wearing this shirt! Also, the vest with this one, and the tie… hmm, it’s hard to discard this green one, but lately, the ones with silver lines are trendy. Oh, this blue one is nice too!”

“It doesn’t seem proper for a lady to bring someone of the opposite sex into a private room and undress them.”

“But your clothes just don’t suit you!”

Quite a rude remark toward someone you just met.

Most people would take offense, but Clifford, lacking emotional fluctuations, merely thought, “This girl is stupid.”

He wasn’t interested in playing dress-up with the girl, but if he spoiled her mood, it might lead to trouble later on.

When in doubt, it’s best to choose the more rational option.

In this situation, accommodating the girl’s play was the most rational choice. After deciding so, Clifford accepted the clothes Lana offered.

“But I’m already wearing a yellow shirt.”

“Yellow, yes, but the shade is completely different! The yellow that suits your skin tone is definitely this one!”

As Clifford put on the shirt Lana provided, indeed, his complexion seemed to brighten a bit.

Though Clifford had a similar appearance to his mother, their skin colors were different. Unlike the dark skin tone of the desert people, Clifford had a lighter skin tone inherited from his father.

“Make sure you do your tie this way! It’s currently trendy to finish it a bit narrower! Oh, we need to choose cuffs too! Cuffs should match the eye color…”

Saying so, Lana stared intently at Clifford’s eyes.

Clifford saw his own eyes reflected in Lana’s large eyes, which somehow seemed different than usual.

(Both my mother and this girl are doing the same thing.)

Without asking for Clifford’s opinion, they push clothes onto him and demand he change. Yet, this was different somehow. Why did he feel that way?

As Clifford pondered the subject, Lana’s face suddenly lit up.

“Your eyes have rainbows within light gray! Sparkling and very pretty! Shall we try matching with opal? Hmm, but finishing elegantly with pearls is also lovely… Hey, which one do you prefer?”

“…Anything is fine.”

“Okay, then, I’ll choose what makes you look the coolest!”

(Oh, I see.)

When Clifford’s mother chose clothes for him, it was to enhance her own presence.

On the other hand, Lana was choosing clothes for Clifford and him alone.


Once he changed into the clothes Lana provided, the girl puffed out her chest with pride.

“See, isn’t it lovely!”

Clifford didn’t understand what was so lovely about the clothes Lana had chosen.

Still, as he examined Lana’s sparkling and proud smile, his chest felt strangely warm…

…For the first time in his life, he felt a sensation at being called “lovely.”

Clifford Anderson lacked motivation and had little emotional fluctuation.

He neither liked nor disliked anything, and he had no dreams or desires.

However, whenever Lana proudly exclaimed, “Isn’t it lovely?” and her eyes sparkled, the world seemed a tiny bit more beautiful. Lana was gradually adding color to his colorless world.

And thus, Lana became the first thing that Clifford liked.

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