PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 1

by Shinobu Wakamiya

  Oz fed Alice oatmeal as if he were feeding a small bird.

  “Is it good, Alice?”

  “Mmm. It’s not bad. It would be perfect if it had meat, though.”

  “When you’re better. —Oh.”

  Oz, who’d been plying the spoon cheerfully, seemed to remember something. He turned back to Gilbert.

  “By the way, Gil.”

  “…What.”

  “You came to my room. Did you need something?”

  “Oh—”

  At those words, Gilbert remembered.

  | 13:00 |

  “—And so, the number of illegal contractors of which Pandora is aware is…”

  In an office in a corner of Pandora Headquarters, Sharon Rainsworth’s voice rose and fell.

  It was one in the afternoon, and the sun had just begun its journey down the sky.

  Oz wasn’t present. The office held only Sharon, Xerxes Break, and Gilbert.

  Gilbert stood, leaning against the wall, listening to Sharon without paying much attention to her. He’d visited Oz’s room to pass on a request from Sharon, who’d wanted to meet as a group and discuss a few things after lunch. The content of the discussion itself was of little importance: just a report on Pandora’s overall activity. Oz and Gilbert tended to work independently instead of as part of the organization, and Sharon had thought it would be good for them to know a little about the rest.

  Oz had refused on the grounds that he had business he couldn’t leave unattended. Gilbert hadn’t been very interested, either: He was here because he’d thought it would look bad for both him and Oz to be absent.

  —Please tell Sharon-chan I’m sorry, Oz had said.

  …Alice was really special to Oz. Gilbert knew that. What he didn’t know was how special, or why Oz felt she was special.

  Because she’d returned him to this world from the Abyss, which was said to be impossible to escape? But it would be more accurate to say that Alice had used Oz in order to cross to this side herself. On top of that, in making Oz an illegal contractor, she’d practically wired him with a time bomb.

  If anything, it wouldn’t have been at all odd for him to resent Alice—

  As he reached that particular thought, Gilbert suddenly found himself perplexed.

  What do I think of that stupid rabbit?

  Her stupidity was constantly causing him trouble, her confrontational personality made him very uncomfortable, and that arrogant attitude of hers frequently got on his nerves. Not only that, but she was a meat-loving picky eater who was always hungry, and, well, as a cook, it was nice to see someone eat what he’d made as if it tasted that good. —But that was neither here nor there.

  It seemed to him as if he had every reason to hate her and none whatsoever to like her.

  Was that why? Gilbert remembered Oz in that apron. Oz wasn’t used to cooking, but he’d done it for Alice. Was that why he’d felt so restless—you could almost have called it irritated—at seeing Oz wait on her?

  Hah—! Wait, am I jealous? …Me? …Of the stupid rabbit?

  Not even possible, he thought. He shook his head with a dry little smile.

  To clear his mind, he thought about the chick pattern on the apron Oz had been wearing.

  You know, that apron really did look good on him. He’s an aristocrat, and yet he’s able to wear commoner clothes with style. That’s my master for you—

  Lost in thought as he was, Gilbert failed to notice it.

  For a while now, having registered that he wasn’t paying attention to her, Sharon had been calling his name.

  “Hellooooo? Gilbert-kun?”

  When Break came up beside him and spoke—loudly—right in his ear, Gilbert came to himself with a jolt.

  He looked over. Break was pointing at something.

  When Gilbert glanced in that direction…

  “Tee-hee-hee-hee-hee.” Thoom-thoom-thoom-thoom…

  There was Sharon, wearing a flawlessly elegant smile. The pressure she gave off as she beamed made Gilbert quail instantly.

  “You seem to have wandered into an entertaining daydream, ‘Raven.’”

  A shudder chilled his spine. It was all Gilbert could do to squeeze out a “…Nuh, no.” Sharon’s bright smile seemed to corner him—“I’ve been speaking of matters of some importance, you know. What were you thinking about?”—and his answer came as a gasp.

  “Ch-chicks,” he said, honestly.

  “—Chicks?” Sharon and Break cocked their heads in simultaneous confusion.

  “Alice-kun has a cold, eh?”

  “And Oz-sama is nursing her…which is why he was unable to attend.”

  After Gilbert filled them in, Break and Sharon wore odd expressions, as if everything made sense and, at the same time, made no sense at all.

  Apparently neither of them had ever heard of a Chain catching cold before, either. From their reactions, Gilbert thought, asking if they knew how to handle the situation wasn’t likely to yield any noteworthy responses.

  Break, who was standing beside Sharon, raised a jaunty index finger.

  “Meaning that, with his master taken from him, faithful hound Gil-kun is feeling lonely.”

  “My!”

  Sharon put a hand to her mouth and giggled.

  “That’s not it! I’m not particularly…”

  Gilbert argued, blushing, but his words and expression only fueled Break’s and Sharon’s smiles.

  Gilbert could never match these two in this sort of exchange, and the least damaging strategy in this situation would have been to beat a hasty retreat. Of course, if Gilbert had been able to read the room and make a decision like that one, he wouldn’t have been Gilbert.

  “…I just… Oz insisted on taking care of the stupid rabbit himself, and I thought it was weird… Not only did he cook for her, he did the ‘Say aaaah’ thing—”

  Break and Sharon: “(Grin, grin)”

  —I shouldn’t have said that! Gil realized, but it was much, much too late.

  “O-ho. ‘Aaaah,’ you say?” said Break.

  “‘Aaaah,’ wasn’t it?” said Sharon.

  “‘Aaaah’—” Break and Sharon chorused.

  “Wh-wh-wh-what are you two driving at?!”

  Gilbert lashed out in self-defense. Sharon gave a smile as bright and beautiful as sunshine.

  “No, no. Nothing at all—snrk! Tee-hee.”

  “Heh-heh, you mustn’t laugh, my lady… Heh-heh-heh!”

  “Wh-wh-why you—!”

  “—That’s enough for now. We’ve got his attention,” Break said, without blinking.

  “Yes.” Sharon nodded, her face serious.

  “This may be cause for concern. A disease that affects Chains… Perhaps it’s a curse of some sort.”

  They completely ignored my reaction, Gilbert thought morosely.

  Come to think of it, both Sharon and Break were contracted to Chains. If there was a possibility that this disease or phenomenon could affect their own Chains, then it certainly was their business.

  Gilbert himself was in the very same position, but he hadn’t thought things through that far.

  These two were perfectly synchronized with each other, and he wasn’t able to follow the pace of their conversation. He was at their mercy from beginning to end.

  “Hmm.” Break gave a small sigh. “What does Oz-kun say?”

  “…He’s enthusiastic.”

  “Beg pardon?”

  “He’s enthusiastically taking care of the stupid rabbit. He actually looks happy—”

  As he mentioned that to Break, Gilbert’s eyes suddenly fell to his own hand.

  Oz’s hand, as he’d dipped the spoon into the oatmeal and held it out to Alice. This was the hand he’d used to grab his wrist.

  The fingers he’d wrapped around Oz’s wrist had been pried off right away.

  …Something was bothering him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was there.

  No, I do know. That was—

  He opened an
d closed that hand, several times.

  He’d fallen abruptly silent. Break watched him, quietly, not interrupting.

  Sharon looked as if she’d like to ask what was wrong.

  “Oh…” Gilbert muttered.

  A scene flared in the back of his mind, just for a moment. Something distant, and faint, and nostalgic.

  Fluttering, sparkling, swirling as it fell—

  Gilbert looked up. He spoke, shortly.

  “Golden…snow…”

  Break and Sharon had no idea what he meant by that, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Gilbert had turned on his heel and was walking away, heading out of the office at a rapid clip.

  From behind him, Sharon called to him, but he didn’t have the time to answer. He reached the hall and headed for Oz’s room, almost running. He knew the distance wasn’t that great, but it felt far away, and it made him anxious and irritable.

  —That idiot! He muttered under his breath.

  Arriving at Oz’s door, Gilbert flung it open without knocking, calling “Oz!” as he did so.

  “Ugh, gkh, aaaaaaaaah……!!” Alice cried out in agony.

  | 13:30 |

  On the bed, Alice was clawing at her chest and gasping in pain.

  “Alice! …Alice, are you okay?!” Oz was leaning forward, calling her name over and over.

  “—?! Oz, what’s the matter?!”

  Gilbert rushed over to them. Oz looked up at Gilbert, shaking his head. “I don’t know, she just suddenly…”

  This was much more than a mere cold.

  Alice’s body was arched like a bow. She’d gone into convulsions. She flung the down comforter off, and when Oz reached out to her, worried, she scratched his arm. “Ow!” Oz cried.

  Neither Oz nor Gilbert knew what was happening to Alice. Her arms clawed the air as if she were a drowning swimmer who was desperately trying to surface. Her eyes were unfocused, as if she was delirious from a high fever.

  “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah…!!”

  Her scream split the air in the room. “Alice!” yelled Oz.

  Then, abruptly, she fell silent, collapsing limply. What now? Gilbert thought, warily.

  “Aah—”

  Alice grimaced, making a small noise, and then—

  “WACHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

  An enormous sneeze shook the room like a volcanic explosion. As it did…

  Mini-Alices poured from Alice’s body.

  “I’m hungry!” “Starving, starving.” “Hey, Oz!” “Bring me meat!” “Or you there, Seaweed Head. You can go instead.” “Meat.” “I want meat.” “I want to eat good meat.” “What kind of meat is ‘good meat’?” “The meat of meats.” “Really meaty meat.” “The king of meats.” “That’s weird.” “Meat is already the king of foods.” “She’s right.” “It’s a fact.” “Good meat is the meat king of kings.” “That sounds strong!” “How cool!” “I want to eat it.” “Feed it to me.” “Tonight’s dinner was supposed to be steak.” “Grilled meat?!” Grilled meat, hee-hee, pretty amazing, huh?” “What are you bragging about?” “Then there’s meat in the kitchen?” “There is.” “There is, there is.” “What if there isn’t?” “If there isn’t, there isn’t.” “How philosophical.” “Philosophical?” “Philosophical meat?” “What does that taste like?” “Flavor that makes you think.” “Is it yummy?” “…It makes you think.”

  “…Huh? What’s going on?” Oz muttered, dazed.

  It was a scene straight out of a joke, or possibly a nightmare. With that explosive sneeze, about a hundred—no, more—tiny Alices had materialized from Alice’s body. They were only about fifteen centimeters tall, and they’d spread all over the room, wriggling and squirming.

  Closer inspection showed that each one was rather cute, like a doll. Still, the sight of more than a hundred of them swarming and chattering was terribly creepy. Not only were they all over the floor, but some were stuck to the ceiling or crawling over the walls, and they were all yelling, “Meat! Meat! Meat!”

  “Oz, what is this?!” Gilbert shouted.

  “How should I know?! D-does this happen with colds?”

  “Not that I ever heard…”

  The situation was so weird that Gilbert felt more irritated than shocked or aghast, and he clicked his tongue. It wasn’t a loud sound, but the mini-Alices had sharp ears. Moving in unison, they all turned to look at Gilbert.

  The silent, fixed stare of a hundred tiny creatures was a little—no, very—eerie.

  Gilbert felt a chill run down his spine. The mini-Alices were whispering among themselves.

  “What should we do?” “Should we eat him?” “For starters, sure.” “But depending on how we cook him…”

  “That’s a pretty dangerous topic, midgets!” Gilbert yelled, although he was backing away quickly. Even as he did so…

  “Meat!” “Meat!” “Meat!” “Meat!” “Meat!” “Meat!” “Meat!” “Meat-meat-meat-meat-meat-meat-meat-meat-meat-meat—!”

  With their eyes glittering viciously in their adorable faces, the hundred-plus mini-Alices rushed at Gilbert like a tsunami.

  There was no way for him to fight. —Gilbert prepared to die.

  “…?!”

  “Gil!” Oz was calling him, desperately.

  Gilbert’s consciousness slid helplessly into darkness—

  The swarm of mini-Alices had mobbed Gilbert, kicked him mercilessly, and disappeared into the hall.

  The only ones left in the room were a dazed Oz; Gilbert, on the ground and unconscious; and Alice, breathing hard on the bed, as if she was in pain. Worried, Oz looked from Gilbert to Alice and back. He ran to Gilbert first and discovered that he’d only passed out, and that nothing was really wrong.

  With a short sigh of relief, Oz immediately turned and ran to Alice.

  “Alice!”

  “Those little…”

  Alice tried to stand, but it was as if she had no strength left, and she sat down flat on her behind.

  “I told you, don’t push yourself.”

  Oz soothed Alice, making her lie down.

  Alice tried to bluster that she wasn’t pushing herself, but there was absolutely no force in the glare she sent at Oz.

  “Those were… Those midgets are my ‘strength,’” Alice muttered, letting her head fall to the pillow.

  “Your strength?” echoed Oz.

  “I felt like something inside my body was restless earlier, and…it overflowed, just now.”

  Apparently that sneeze had been the trigger.

  That said, Oz couldn’t immediately accept the idea. It was just too strange.

  Stunned, he gazed at the door the mini-Alices had disappeared through.

  He couldn’t even imagine the sort of ruckus that had to be enveloping Pandora Headquarters right now.

  “…Arrrgh, I can’t.”

  Alice tried to sit up, but her body wouldn’t listen to her. She muttered in frustration.

  “Alice, you’ve got to lie still.”

  As Oz chided her, concerned, Alice gazed up at him with unfocused eyes. Her small lips moved: “Please.” Oz saw, and he nodded. As Alice’s consciousness faded, she murmured, “Please get back my strength.”

  “All right,” Oz said, without hesitation. “Tell me what to do.”

  “…I don’t care how you do it. Stomp on them or wring them to death, or do anything you want, but kill them. If you do, they should turn back into ordinary strength and come back to me.”

  Alice spoke as though she was delirious. Then her eyes slid shut. Oz called, “Alice!” in spite of himself, but Alice’s only response was her labored breathing. She seemed to have completely lost consciousness.

  This was a far cry from the Alice who was sometimes violently energetic and cheerful. Oz knit his brows as though he was in pain.

  “—Alice’s strength.”

  Nothing about the situation seemed real, but he knew exactly what he had to do.


  He had to save Alice.

  Oz opened a hand in front of his face, then balled it into a fist. With an expression that made it look as if he was praying, he pushed the fist against his forehead. “…Okay,” he muttered, and although his voice was quiet, his tone was determined.

  Finally, he stretched out the hand to Alice’s forehead, fixing her tousled bangs. Then he turned on his heel.

  “Just hang on, Alice.”

  He left the bedside, heading for the door. As he passed the fallen, unconscious Gilbert, he said, “Sorry, Gil. Once I get back, I’ll take care of you properly.”

  He put a hand on the doorknob. Opened the door. Ran out into the hall. The hall was littered with fallen Pandora employees; like Gilbert, they’d probably been attacked by the swarm of mini-Alices. It looked like a scene of carnage. At the sight of the tragedy in the hall, Oz caught his breath.

  Fortunately, although they were unconscious, none of them seemed to be injured. Silently apologizing to the fallen employees, Oz ran down the hall.

  He knew where he was going.

  If the mini-Alices were made of the same stuff as Alice, there was only one place they’d go.

  Oz ran, thinking that it might already be too late.

  He was headed for—

  “The kitchen!”

  The faces of the kitchen staff, the people who’d complemented him on his apron and showed him the basics of cooking, flickered through his mind.

  Let me be in time, Oz prayed, and ran faster.

  | 14:00 |

  By the time Oz reached the kitchen, the mini-Alices had already occupied it.

  Almost all the mini-Alices had gathered there and were working the kitchen staff like slaves, forcing them to prepare meat dishes. Anyone who showed even a glimmer of defiance was bitten mercilessly. They may have been cute, but at heart, they most certainly were the B-Rabbit.

  The kitchen was filled with countless greedy voices calling, “Meat! Meat! Meat! Meat!”

  With a pot lid for a shield and a ladle for a sword, Oz confronted the terrifying, carnivorous horde, and—

  The battle in the kitchen was the stuff of legend.