PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 1

by Shinobu Wakamiya

  What really existed in this world were “demons.” Grotesque beings who took advantage of the darkness, desires, and weakness in human hearts, made contracts with them, and destroyed them. They were called Chains.

  These women should have been thanking their god for the fact that they’d come this far without attracting a Chain.

  “I’m saying this for your own good. Let me go. …And quit doing this ridiculous stuff immediately.”

  Gilbert really had said it for the women’s sake.

  “You’re certainly calm.”

  The Great Mother sounded amused, but there was an edge of irritation to her voice.

  In a situation this tame—

  If it came down to it, he could easily turn the tables by summoning the Chain he was contracted to. Of course, even without going that far, he could tell at a glance that the women were amateurs when it came to fights. There was nothing here to make Gilbert anxious or uneasy.

  “Could it be that you don’t understand?” The Great Mother sounded mildly appalled. She released Dahlia, returning to stand in front of Gilbert. “If so, you’re rather dull-witted.”

  As she spoke, she took the book from under her arm and held it lovingly to her breast. Then, in a soft, coaxing voice: “Fu-fu-fu. You are a true sacrifice, chosen through the words of the scriptures.”

  “I’ll admit to being slow on the uptake, but I had picked up on that part,” Gilbert replied crossly.

  “Your soul will be held fast in the arms of our god, never to return. —Your flesh and blood will serve to nourish him.”

  The Great Mother seemed intoxicated by her own words. She was actually trembling. Gilbert stared at her coldly, seeing a woman who’d drowned in the darkness of her heart. Then, without looking at Dahlia, he spoke to her.

  “Dahlia, what about you?”

  At Gilbert’s question, Dahlia only looked down. “…I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  So that’s it, Gilbert thought. He heaved a small sigh, although his neck was still restrained.

  The Great Mother didn’t even think it suspicious that Gilbert, her captive, was perfectly composed. She continued, enraptured. “Now then, let’s slit your throat. Hollow out your chest. Offer your life to our god.”

  She took a knife from her bosom and held it to Gilbert’s neck. The blade broke the skin; beads of blood welled up. For a moment, Dahlia started to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. The Great Mother whispered to Gilbert, gently, madly, “Go on. Tremble. Fear. That is what—”

  “Shut up.”

  Gilbert slipped one of his hands free of its bonds, pulled a handgun from his inside pocket, and held it to the Great Mother’s forehead, right between her eyes.

  Possibly because they’d assumed Dahlia’s incense and potion would keep Gilbert from moving easily for a while, they’d bound him carelessly, and they hadn’t even taken his gun. It was as if the thought that their sacrifice might strike back had never crossed their minds.

  He’d been roundly underestimated.

  It’s a complete farce.

  His thoughts were cool.

  He didn’t even feel like wasting lead on opponents like these.

  Gilbert said, simply but sharply:

  “Unfortunately, my flesh and blood belong to Oz.”

  Just as he spoke, the door to the stone chamber flew open with a bang.

  Then a voice he knew very well said:

  “—Gil!”

  15

  A short while ago. Back when Gilbert was still tied to the chair, asleep.

  “…Uwah, they really are flashy. Hey, this one’s see-through.”

  Just off Reveil’s high street, Oz—muttering—peered into the show window of the high-class boutique Night Butterfly. Behind him, Break responded: “What did I tell you?” At his feet lay the Garland family’s butler. He’d been put out of commission with one karate chop from Break.

  When Oz and Break reached the boutique, the butler had been standing by the door, obviously waiting for someone. As Oz approached the door, the butler had drawn a handgun from an inner pocket— Or rather, he had been attempting to do so when Break struck. He’d gone down quite easily.

  “Are we going in through there, Break?”

  Oz pointed to the door beside the show window.

  Break said, “Let’s see…” He looked thoughtful. “There does seem to be a back door, but that sounds like work. Why not just go in through the front?”

  Oz nodded, then looked up at the boutique’s sign that hung over his head.

  After the carriage had left the Garland residence, Oz and Break had sneaked into the deserted mansion and looked for Gilbert. However, they hadn’t found him anywhere. That meant the natural thing was to assume he’d been bundled into that carriage.

  Having determined the most likely destination was Night Butterfly, they’d visited the shop.

  “Still…” Oz murmured. He sounded impressed. “I never thought they’d have their hideout here, right in the middle of town.”

  “The best place to hide a tree is in a forest. If you want to hide a person, use a crowd.”

  Break sounded as if it wasn’t unusual at all.

  By making the place appear to be a high-class boutique on the surface, it would naturally attract noble ladies.

  If the proprietress was the leader of an evil organization and was hoping to increase her power, she’d been wise to target the women of the aristocracy. If she managed to involve them, she’d have vast amounts of money at her disposal, and they’d only improve her camouflage in public spheres.

  Oz stood in front of the door and quietly grasped the knob. He tried to turn it, but of course it was locked.

  When he looked back, Break had a small key pinched between his fingers and was waggling it at him.

  Break glanced at the butler, who was collapsed at his feet, and smiled. “Borrowed it. ”

  Oz took the key and slipped it into the door’s keyhole. He turned it. Click. He pulled the knob, and the door opened.

  No sound came from inside. The shop seemed deserted.

  Without turning, Oz spoke to Break. “Okay, Break. Let’s go.”

  “—Onii-chan?”

  As if replying for Break, a voice cut in from the side. Huh? Oz thought.

  It was a voice he should never have heard in a place like this.

  Oz’s gaze darted toward its source. …It was his little sister, Ada. Not only that, but she didn’t even have her maid with her. She was all alone, here in this back lane. Startled and worried, Oz forgot his own position and involuntarily raised his voice.

  “Ada, what do you think you’re doing in a place like this, all by yourself?! That’s dangerous!”

  Ada’s shoulders quivered under the angry scolding.

  At the same time, Oz came back to himself with a jolt. He’d remembered exactly what he was in the middle of doing. He shot a flustered look in Break’s direction, but the prone form of the butler at his feet had vanished. With a conjuror’s dexterity, Break had apparently flung the man into the shadows somewhere.

  As was only to be expected, Break’s expression was slightly troubled, but his eyes said, This one’s all yours, Oz-kun.

  As unhappy as Oz was to have the situation dropped in his lap, it was true that, as Ada’s big brother, he was the one who should handle it.

  He turned to face Ada again. The sight of her big brother’s anger had clearly made her nervous.

  “Oh, uh, I’m sorry, Ada. I didn’t mean to yell like that.”

  When Oz apologized, Ada shook her head. There must be a reason Ada’s in a place like this, all by herself, Oz thought.

  Then his gaze abruptly went to the boutique, and the shock hit him like a ton of bricks. He looked back at her.

  “Ada, don’t tell me… Are you planning to buy something from this place?”

  To the point where she’d go on the sly, taking the risk of walking around on her own—

  His little sister had certainly grown a
lot, but still, it was much, much too early for this. As her big brother, Oz couldn’t accept it.

  Your Onii-chan won’t stand for it! That was how he felt.

  At Oz’s words, Ada glanced at the show window, took in the display of provocative dresses, and blushed bright red.

  Hastily, she looked back at Oz, saying, “N-no. No!” and waving her hands wildly. She told him that she’d come to town with her maid to do some shopping and had seen her big brother leaving the high street for a back alley. Without thinking, she’d left her maid behind and run after him.

  “Oh, was that all,” Oz said, sighing with relief.

  This time, it was Ada’s turn to ask. With several little nervous glances at the show window, she said, “…What about you, Onii-chan? Were you buying a dress to give to someone…?”

  Oz burst out laughing.

  “N-n-no! And anyway, I like younger, more innocent-looking dresses—”

  “But you were on your way in…weren’t you?”

  Oz didn’t know what to say.

  His real intentions were different…but he couldn’t tell his sister that.

  He glanced at Break, who was silently mouthing, We don’t have time to stand around chatting! at him. I know that! Oz retorted with his eyes.

  He had to get Ada away from here somehow. He didn’t want to drag her into this.

  However, she was already suspicious—either that, or immensely curious.

  If he didn’t talk her around very cleverly, she might follow them inside—

  “Well, uh, you see. Someone asked me to come here, to…to pick something up. That’s all.”

  “Who?”

  Oz found himself at a loss again. He thought hard and fast. Finally,

  I’m sorry!

  With a silent apology, he said, “For Uncle. Uncle Oscar.” He gave a strained little smile.

  “Uncle Oscar…?”

  “That’s right. He’s sending it to someone… A lady. But it sounds as if he doesn’t want word to get around, so… Could you pretend you didn’t see me? Pretend you didn’t see anything, Ada, and get away from the boutique. I bet your maid’s looking for you anyway. All right?”

  At last, after hearing Oz through, Ada nodded timidly. Her cheeks were red. What was going through her mind? With another glance at the show window, Ada murmured, “To think Uncle Oscar had someone to give dresses like these to…”

  If Uncle Oscar finds out about this, he may actually kill me, Oz thought. However, for now, all that mattered was getting himself through this situation.

  “Oh, um, ummm, then, I’ll be…going.”

  “R-right. Sorry, Ada.”

  As Ada left, awkwardly, Oz gave her an equally awkward wave. As Oz watched her go, Break came up beside him.

  “Well done,” he said, but Oz couldn’t bring himself to be completely happy about that. Once again, Break put his hand on the knob, opened the door, and slipped into the boutique.

  Oz hastily followed him.

  The shop was hung with gaudy dresses on display, but the lights were off, and the place was filled with a dreary gloom. As the two of them entered, their footsteps were the only sound.

  “There’s no one here.”

  At Oz’s murmur, Break nodded.

  “They couldn’t know who might come in. If they kidnapped Gilbert-kun, no matter what they’re plotting, they wouldn’t do it in the shop. There must be a secret room somewhere…and there should be a passage that leads to it. Come, let’s look.”

  “Look where?”

  Oz glanced around the shop. He sounded a bit bewildered.

  The shop also held undergarments meant to be worn under dresses. Like the dresses themselves, the styles were universally bold and provocative. It was a bit much for Oz—ever since he’d entered the boutique, it hadn’t felt quite safe to look at anything.

  “What are you blushing about?” Break looked mildly disgusted. “Underwear no one’s worn yet is just cloth.”

  Even then, boys’ hearts are such that they can’t easily make that distinction.

  Oz began searching the boutique’s interior. In order to inspect the walls, he parted the dresses and undergarments that hung on them. Possibly because the shop catered to the aristocracy, the materials used were of fine quality, and Oz kept catching himself admiring the textures.

  Finally, Break noticed a suspicious join in the wall of a fitting room. That section of the wall proved to be a hidden door, and when they opened it, they discovered a set of stairs leading underground.

  The two of them descended in the darkness. The stairs led down to a stone corridor that stretched away in three directions: right, left, and straight ahead.

  Candleholders topped by small, wavering flames were mounted on the corridor walls at fixed intervals. Thanks to that, they had no trouble seeing.

  “This is a really big basement.”

  Oz sounded surprised; he’d assumed they’d find one or two underground rooms at most.

  “It does look as if it cost a pretty penny. Financed by the ladies of the aristocracy, I suspect.”

  “So…it’s an underground temple?”

  The problem was which of the three corridors they should take. Which one held Gilbert?

  “Well, let’s start from the front,” Break said, carelessly.

  And so…

  “—Gil!”

  Gilbert was aghast, both at the voice which called him as the door to the stone chamber opened, and by the sight of Oz entering the room immediately after.

  Up until now, he’d kept his cool, but his surprise made him momentarily vulnerable. The Great Mother didn’t let that chance pass her by. Three of Gilbert’s limbs were still tied to the chair, and she threw her weight against it, tipped it over, and spun around, fleeing the room through a different door from the one Oz and Break had entered by.

  A confused cry rose from the women who’d been left behind, including Dahlia, but they seemed unable to move. It was possible that none of them understood the situation.

  Gilbert, who’d toppled over with the chair, had hit his head in the wrong place; as he watched Oz come running to him, he felt dizzy.

  “Oz, what… Why…?”

  “What do you mean, ‘why’! I’m your master, you’re my valet. Of course I’d show up when you’re in trouble!”

  It’s supposed to be the other way around, thought Gilbert. …But this was the Oz he knew.

  Oz crouched down beside the fallen Gilbert, hastily trying to untie his legs and other hand. Briefly, Gilbert told him, “Don’t bother.” He turned the muzzle of his gun on the chair and fired repeatedly, destroying the armrest and legs. Completely freed of his bonds, he got to his feet.

  With the exception of Dahlia—who stood where she was, dazed—the women had gathered in a corner of the room and were huddled together, trembling.

  Ignoring the women for the time being, Gilbert turned back to Oz and Break.

  “You two—”

  He looked at Oz, then at Break.

  From Break’s composed expression, Gilbert could tell he already knew everything. Break gave a teasing smile and said, “We were worried about you, Gilbert-kun! ” in a tone that made it obvious that he hadn’t been worried at all.

  …Tch. Gilbert clicked his tongue, softly.

  “Say, Gil?” Oz glanced at the door the Great Mother had vanished through. “Who was the lady that ran off?”

  “!” At those words, Gilbert gulped slightly. “The one who was pulling the strings behind all this. I’ve got to go after her.”

  Gilbert’s voice was grim, but Break remained easygoing to the last. “Ohhh, I doubt that will be necessary.”

  What was that supposed to mean? Oz and Gilbert both looked at him. Break tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling, and spoke. His tone was joking, but there was an edge to it.

  “—We can leave the rest to ‘them.’”

  “Them?” Gilbert echoed, but Break didn’t explain further.

  As if taking
advantage of the blind spot in Gilbert’s consciousness:

  “…Gilbert…sama.”

  From her place by the wall, Dahlia spoke in a faint voice; she sounded as if she might collapse at any moment. Gilbert turned to look at her.

  Her face was pale.

  She’d taken part in a plot to kill Gilbert, and she knew the plot had been foiled. She seemed to have accepted that there was nowhere left to run. Among other things, her expression seemed slightly…relieved.

  Gilbert gazed at her, silently. Memories of the time they’d spent together yesterday skimmed through his mind, but they already felt terribly distant.

  “I don’t expect to be forgiven,” Dahlia said. “Besides,” she continued, “I don’t regret what I’ve done. I couldn’t think of any other way, you see.”

  When they’d offered to bring her beloved, departed father back to life…

  “But…I’m sure this was the better ending—”

  “Enough.”

  Gilbert cut Dahlia off.

  As the Great Mother had said, Dahlia probably had hesitated. She might have been the one who’d tied Gilbert to the chair. If her hesitation had made the bonds loose enough that he could slip out of them easily…

  What should I say to her? Gilbert asked himself. Should he thank her? Comfort her?

  No, he thought, that’s wrong. I doubt she wants either of those. She didn’t want anyone to say they understood the pain she carried. That said, Gilbert didn’t feel like blaming her either.

  Both he and Dahlia held someone irreplaceable and precious in their hearts.

  For that person, they could do anything. Even commit an unforgiveable crime.

  …Deep down, Dahlia and I are a lot alike, Gilbert thought.

  Still, what he needed to show now wasn’t understanding or sympathy. No matter how far they went, Gilbert’s world and Dahlia’s would never intersect. And so…

  And so—

  “I won’t ever forgive you. Never let me see your face again.”

  Gilbert’s voice was endlessly cold.

  Faintly, Dahlia murmured, “—Thank you.”

  16

  She didn’t understand. She had no idea what had happened.