[[Dragonchu89 requested that I continue this with a chapter where Emmy asks Layton about Claire. So, this story has gone from oneshot to twoshot to threeshot. ^_^; I can guarantee this will definitely be the end.

Spoilers for Miracle Mask and slight spoilers for Unwound Future. Disregards any information from Azran Legacies.]]

Understanding

Luke was slumped against the car window, blue cap slipping off his head and onto his nose. I smirked at the sight, endearing as it was, wishing I could doodle a moustache on him. (What a shame I left my black marker pen at home.) It wasn't surprising he'd nodded off so quickly after the crazy adventure we'd just had. Regardless, if it was me behind the wheel Luke would be screaming his head off right now. Luckily for him the professor and I had switched seats half an hour ago, so Luke could rest easily knowing his mentor was driving. Tempting as it was, I decided not to disturb Luke and returned my gaze to the front of the car.

Though the dessert was far behind us, this barren road was still dull as porridge compared to the festive, vibrant atmosphere of Monte d'Or. I hadn't even seen a tumbleweed roll by. Oh well, at least there were fewer cactuses around. And without all the sand I could see the spiders coming for me.

I glanced at the professor. He seemed so much more at ease now that the mystery was over. His long lost friend was alive, and everyone had finally been forgiven. With all that guilt lifted off the professor's shoulders, he wouldn't have any more nightmares... Right?

Unless Professor Layton blamed himself for something else that had happened in his life. Something to do with the one called Claire.

The last thing I wanted to do was stir up horrible memories for the professor. But it had been nagging at me since that night at the hotel. I had to know.

"Professor..." I let my voice hover in the air for a moment.

He looked at me with his placid smile (a smile that would crack any second). "Yes, Emmy?"

"Who is Claire?"

The professor was so shocked by the simple sound of her name that he slammed the breaks down and the car jolted to a halt. Thankfully the Laytonmobile was the only vehicle for miles on this road. Luke shifted and muttered something, but he didn't stir.

Professor Layton was wide-eyed, blinking, his fingers digging into the steering wheel. "W-what did you say?"

I winced, instantly wishing I could take the question back. Why did I always have to be so inquisitive, too assertive? Why did I even care about what this anonymous woman meant to him? It wasn't my business to pry into the professor's private past, let alone his possible love life.

"You don't need to answer if you don't want to..." I muttered, turning away from him. "But the other night— you were shouting in your sleep about Randall falling, begging Angela for forgiveness... Then you mentioned another name."

He exhaled to compose himself and apologised "I'm sorry you and Luke had to hear all of that. Did I frighten you?"

"Luke didn't know what to do so he came to get me. We were both extremely worried about you." That was an understatement. The stab of panic I'd felt that night when I first thought the professor had been attacked was unbelievable. It was unusual for me to be so shaken in alarming situations.

"Well, thank you for bearing with my... nightmares," the professor sighed.

"It might help if you talked about them with someone," I prompted softly.

"Yes, I suppose you're right." He paused for a moment. At first I didn't believe he would explain the terrible dreams to me, though that's what I was hoping. (Perhaps he thought I'd meant discussing the problem with a psychiatrist or something.) But then he checked his apprentice remained sound asleep before he took a deep breath, and began:

"I already informed you of what happened to Randall eighteen years ago. After that, I could no longer stay in Stansbury. Wrought with misery, Angela partly blamed me for my involvement in Randall's death, and at school there were some rumours that I was a murder. I needed to escape from the unbearable guilt hanging over me every single day. So, my parents and I moved to London. As time passed, I learned to live with my guilt— never forgetting— but accepting that Randall was gone and nothing could change that."

That's what everyone believed until we saw Randall at the Reunion Inn yesterday Ithought.

"By coming to terms with my past, I was able to start a clean slate at university. That was when I met Claire..." The professor touched the brim of his treasured top hat. "She was my... girlfriend back then."

My suspicions had been correct. I imagined a young Hershel Layton meeting the love of his life; that special person who could put the light back in his eyes and bring him joy again. He must have told her about Randall, as he had told me and Luke.

Dreading his reply, I dared to whisper "What happened to Claire?"

The professor bowed his head; his eyes darkening. "She... she passed away."

"Oh." I swallowed, disgusted with myself. How could I have felt the smallest spike of jealousy for the professor's university sweetheart? I had never even known her. Several moments of silence elapsed between the professor and I, as if we were honouring Claire.

Eventually I breathed "What was Claire like— if you don't mind me asking?"

This query appeared to lift the professor's spirits slightly. He closed his eyes, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Well... Claire was intelligent, diligent and extremely determined; there was no swaying her once her mind was set. She had love for traditional English mannerisms... Her persistence knew no bounds, but most people admired her for that," he let out a low chuckle. "Her laughter was the most wonderful sound. I never grew tired of hearing it... She was beautiful, selfless, incredibly brave..."

"You remind me of her in many ways, Emmy." was what I kept expecting him to admit. Whether it would please me or disappoint me to hear that, I wasn't sure. But of course the professor wouldn't say that. Instead, he continued listing everything he had loved about Claire, even some of the negative aspects of her personality. (Because of course she wasn't the flawless goddess I'd initially envisioned her to be.)

When the professor realized he'd been babbling for fifteen minutes straight, he suddenly stopped. A blush had stolen across his cheeks. "I- I apologise, Emmy. I've kept you listening for far too long."

"No, I'm glad you were able to speak to me like this." I meant it. The professor needed to open up to people every now and again— he was only human, after all.

"Thank you. It does help to share my thoughts with someone I trust immensely."

Had he said the same thing to Claire? I shook my head, dispelling the thought. It didn't matter. I was Hershel Layton's assistant, his trusted companion... Who knew, maybe I could mean something more to him in the future, but for now I was content just being by this man's side.

This incredible man who had lost so much, suffered so undeservingly, but he kept going, helping others wherever he went.

I reached out to give the professor's hand a reassuring squeeze. It had turned out his best friend was alive after all these years. So perhaps there was a chance he would find true love again...?

*Yawn.* "What time is it, Professah...?" Luke wondered groggily. "I'm hungry... Can we have something to eat, please?"

The professor and I exchanged amused looks. Then I burst out laughing. "Sure we can, Second Assistant. Sure we can."