PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 1

by Shinobu Wakamiya

  Gilbert didn’t know how to respond. He thought for a little while.

  “What’s the point in saying stuff like that? If we both stay single until we’re old geezers…”

  At that, Oz blinked a bit. Then he grinned.

  “If that happens, let’s sun ourselves in the garden together. Side by side, on the same bench.”

  “…”

  Gilbert imagined it.

  Decades from now. A wrinkled old version of Oz, and himself, ten years wrinklier, soaking up the sun in the garden of the Vessalius manor. He imagined them having conversations like this: “Ho-ho-ho, Gil, wouldja fetch me some of that there tea?” “Yeeees, Young Master Oz. Up we get, oof! Phew…”

  It felt very idyllic, and warm—

  “…That wouldn’t be bad.”

  At Gilbert’s murmur, Oz immediately grimaced.

  “Huh? Yuck, no, I’d hate that. I just imagined it and it gave me chills. Ugh…”

  “Why?! It’d be nice and peaceful. What’s wrong with that?”

  Gilbert was stung. Still grimacing, Oz said, “It’s peaceful, but it’s too bland. If there aren’t any cute girls around, I won’t stand for it!”

  Oz sounded petulant. Gilbert argued right back.

  The apartment was filled with loud voices, and it stayed that way for a good long time…

  It was noisy, lively, and somehow gentle.

  A scene from the sort of pair who seemed likely to stay together for life.

  That night.

  After taking Oz back to Pandora Headquarters, Gilbert stopped by his apartment again, then headed for the Nightray manor. He walked down Reveil’s bustling high street. He was returning the suit he’d worn to meet Dahlia.

  As he wove his way through the throngs of people, Gilbert thought back over the previous day.

  After he’d said those final words to Dahlia in the stone chamber, the Great Mother’s scream had echoed through the whole underground complex.

  When they looked for her, they found her collapsed in what seemed to be a secret room. She was unconscious, and on her face was the expression of a woman who’d encountered some indescribable horror… But there was no one else in the room. Gilbert and the others could only wonder.

  Even Break didn’t seem to understand what had happened.

  Gilbert and Dahlia parted ways in front of the boutique.

  He doubted he’d ever see her again. He didn’t know what she planned to do now. Would she go on as before, living with her father’s body hidden in the manor? If so, would it remain undetected by the outside world? What would happen if people found out?

  Whatever happened, it was nothing to do with him anymore. She’d probably vanish from his memories someday, as well.

  “All women are venemous spiders,” eh…?

  He remembered what his brother had said to him, when he’d returned to the Nightray manor to borrow the suit.

  It just might be true.

  Even Dahlia, who’d seemed so quiet and modest, had had venom… Darkness. Maybe everyone, man or woman, hid similar darkness, even if it wasn’t visible on the surface. Just when Gilbert’s mood had turned gloomy…a lovely voice and face abruptly rose in the back of his mind.

  “Gil, don’t. You mustn’t look so sullen.”

  Ada-sama…

  She moved in an atmosphere of soft warmth and gentleness.

  There was no woman less suited to the words “hidden venom” than Ada…no matter who else might have it.

  I want to see Ada-sama, Gilbert thought, with no reason for thinking it. …He wanted to see her, and chat with her about trivial things, and have her scold him for getting so gloomy. That said, Gilbert wasn’t the sort who could just go see her without an excuse, and he wasn’t clever enough to come up with an excuse where none existed.

  No, that’s wrong, Gilbert rebuked himself. You’re trying to lean on her, like a little kid. Grow up.

  You’ve got to pull yourself together.

  When he reached the Nightray manor, he thought, he’d have to look in on his little brother as well.

  He had to tell him that the Dahlia affair was over.

  “Haaaah…”

  Feeling quite unmotivated, Gilbert gave a dreary sigh.

  “He’s refusing all visitors?”

  Echo had been the one to tell Gilbert this. When Gilbert had arrived at the Nightray manor and visited Vincent’s private room, he’d found her standing in front of the door.

  Echo nodded.

  “He says he won’t see anyone for two or three days.”

  “Has he collapsed? …Is he sick?”

  “No.” Echo shook her head. Still expressionless, she looked down slightly, as if thinking. “He has…some slight mental trauma.”

  Gilbert looked puzzled. Mental trauma? To the point where he was avoiding people? Gilbert couldn’t begin to imagine what would cause a situation like that.

  Still, it was a relief not to have to talk about Dahlia.

  “I see,” he told Echo. Just as he was about to turn on his heel, the door opened with a click and Vincent looked out.

  His handsome, clean-cut face seemed slightly haggard. “Vince…” Gilbert was about to say something concerned, but Vincent got in first.

  Facing his older brother, as if trying to make things very clear, he said, “You really should forget that woman, Nii-san……”

  Forget Dahlia? Gilbert thought, but as if he’d read his mind, Vincent shook his head.

  “No, not that one…”

  Although he’d been about to say something, he sighed, then drew back into the room again.

  Click. The door closed.

  Who had he meant? Gilbert racked his brains, but no one came to mind.

  The expressionless Echo watched Gilbert with cold eyes.

  And—

  “Haaah…”

  Seated on the sofa in the drawing room of her uncle Oscar’s private residence, Ada sighed sadly.

  Oscar, who was on his way through carrying documents of some sort, asked, “What’s the matter?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  With a laugh that was slightly strained, Ada shook her head; she was determined not to worry her uncle. She stole a glance at Oscar, remembering what her brother had told her in front of the boutique. She wanted to ask him about it, but she’d promised to pretend not to have seen or heard anything. She banished her curiosity from her mind.

  Ada had been remembering the previous day. Worried about her brother, she’d gone down into the cellar. In an underground room, she’d met a woman who, like Ada herself, was interested in the occult. Happy and exhilarated, she’d tried to talk to her about this and that, but—it had been a first meeting, after all; maybe she’d moved too quickly—she’d startled the woman terribly.

  When the woman had collapsed, Ada had been worried and had gone outside to call for help, but she’d gotten lost in the city streets.

  When, with much difficulty, she’d found her way back to the boutique, the door had been shut and locked.

  She’d called into the shop, but had received no reply. Today, when she’d gone by the shop again, someone had posted a sign on the door that said CLOSED INDEFINITELY.

  She’d felt she had to apologize to the woman for startling her.

  If, by some chance, the woman had forgiven her…

  …What a pity. It had been such a good opportunity.

  “Did something happen? C’mon, tell your uncle.” Oscar sat down on the sofa opposite Ada, speaking magnanimously. “It doesn’t matter if it’s little or silly. I’ll hear you out.”

  His words made her happy. Ada giggled, self-consciously, then began. “All right. Umm, I was thinking that it’s very hard to make friends who share my interests.”

  At her words, Oscar grunted briefly. “Hmm.”

  For a little while, he closed his eyes as if he was thinking. Finally, he looked at Ada with a grin, and said something that, just maybe, he should never have said under any circumstances:
<
br />   “It might be better if you took someone you’re already friends with and cunningly lured her in.”

  …As in, into Ada’s hobby.

  Oscar’s suggestion had never occurred to Ada before. For a short while, she was silent.

  Then, in a small voice, she murmured, “I see… I’ll take a beginner’s book next time, and…”

  Whether Ada went on to put her plan into action or not remains a mystery.

  ~ Fin ~

  1

  It happened one night.

  It was the wee hours of the morning, and the moon was approaching its zenith in the night sky.

  In a spacious bedroom at the main residence of the House of Rainsworth, one of the four great dukedoms, Sheryl was sitting up in bed.

  Sheryl Rainsworth. Although she was elderly and normally used a wheelchair to get around, the years had stolen none of her elegance and grace.

  In aristocratic society, where male dominance was still quite common, the House of Rainsworth was unusual in that the Rainsworth women held strong influence. As the head of the family, Sheryl was well-respected, not only by the Rainsworths, but by the aristocracy as a whole.

  “—Hee-hee!”

  With a charming smile on her lips, Sheryl glanced at the window. The curtains were drawn, but a thin shaft of moonlight slipped in between them.

  Sheryl raised one hand and cupped it to her ear, as if she was listening closely to catch a faint sound.

  Then she murmured, pleasantly:

  “The cat seems to be making noise again tonight. That sweet little kitten…”

  2

  The young lady was troubled.

  In the afternoon of the following day, as she stood before the vanity in her room at the Rainsworth mansion:

  “Could I possibly be ___________?” Sharon muttered, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. Both her voice and her face were glum, dreary and dejected. “…”

  Sharon glared at her face as though she was trying to stare it down. Realizing that her forehead was creased, she forced a cheerful smile. The Sharon in the mirror broke into a flawlessly ladylike smile that would have been quite at home at any society function.

  It didn’t last long, though.

  “Haaah…”

  Sharon sighed listlessly, hanging her head.

  This is depressing… After I’d determined to do my best, too…

  “Haaaaaaaaaaah.” She gave a long sigh.

  Just then, there was a knock at the door. From the hallway, a voice called, “Sharon-sama, may I come in?” When Sharon banished her gloomy atmosphere and said, “Yes, go ahead,” the door opened quietly and one of the maids who worked at the mansion entered.

  With the door at her back, the maid bowed to Sharon, then came forward.

  Closer inspection revealed that she was holding a small package.

  “You’ve received a parcel, miss. Here it is.”

  “…?”

  The maid held the package out respectfully, with both hands. Sharon took it, puzzled.

  She hadn’t been expecting anything from anybody. From the weight and feel of the package, she guessed that it was a book, and she checked the sender’s name. It was a bookstore Sharon frequented.

  At that, she remembered.

  “You’re right. It’s the book I’d ordered.”

  When Sharon nodded slightly, the maid bowed again, turned briskly and walked to the door.

  Sharon let her eyes fall to the package. Then:

  “…Haaah.”

  Though her order had arrived, Sharon didn’t seem happy. In fact, she seemed disappointed. At her sigh, the maid turned back.

  Sharon gave a troubled smile.

  “A little while ago, I wasn’t able to find a book I was looking for, so I asked them to send me a copy if one came into their hands. Later on, though, I found the book at another bookstore, and I already have it. I forgot to cancel my order.”

  “…If you have no use for it, miss, shall I dispose of it for you?” the maid asked, solicitously.

  Sharon told her there was no need to go that far. The maid bowed again and left the room.

  Sharon had ordered one of her favorite things: a romance novel.

  The book was a work that one of her favorite authors had published in the past under a different name. It was now quite hard to find, and was said to be an elusive gem. She really should have been delighted, but the fact that this was a duplicate copy made that difficult.

  Since it was here, however, Sharon thought she should at least put it on her bookshelf with the rest, and she unwrapped the parcel.

  When the cover of the book emerged from its wrappings:

  “Oh?”

  Sharon sounded puzzled. “…This isn’t what I ordered,” she murmured.

  The parcel held a book she’d never heard of by an author she didn’t know.

  Someone else’s package must have been delivered to her by mistake, she thought.

  In that case, she should return it to the bookstore.

  Just as Sharon rewrapped the book, there was another knock at the door, and a voice called in:

  “Sharon-sama?”

  The voice belonged to a different maid from the one who’d just left. At Sharon’s “Come in,” the door opened, and she entered.

  The maid bowed to Sharon.

  “Sheryl-sama would like to speak with you. She requests that you come to her study.”

  “Grandmother? Yes, I see.”

  Sharon told the maid she’d go right away.

  After the maid had departed, Sharon glanced at the wrapped book in her hand. Then she placed it in front of the vanity and rose to her feet. She’d considered giving the book to the maid to take care of, but she wanted to enclose a message for the bookstore, asking them to cancel her previous order.

  I’ll deal with this book later, then.

  Having made up her mind, she checked her hair and clothes in the mirror to make sure nothing was out of place. Everything was perfect.

  Even so, Sharon’s reflection in the mirror seemed somehow dispirited…

  I may be ___________.

  She couldn’t get the thought out of her head, and it dragged her mood lower and lower.

  …Still.

  I mustn’t let Grandmother see me like this.

  She shook her head, summoning a bright smile. There. Sharon nodded approvingly to herself, then left the room. At that, the room was empty.

  A few minutes later.

  “Sharon, it’s me!”

  Baaaaaam!

  Flinging the door open with a complete lack of manners and absolutely no reserve, a girl entered the room.

  No sooner had she done so than she struck an arrogant pose. The haughty voice and attitude marked her as Alice, beyond a doubt.

  “You said you had some good sweets, so I came all the way over here in person, just for you— Hmm?”

  The sight of the empty room perplexed Alice.

  She strode to the center of the room and folded her arms, looking irritated.

  “What, she summoned me and she isn’t even here?” she snarled, glancing around the room.

  Abruptly, her eyes found the parcel that lay on the vanity. A box of sweets?! Alice thought. She crossed to the vanity with a bounce and picked up the parcel. If we’re going to eat this anyway, she thought, she won’t mind if I open it. So she opened it.

  But what emerged from the wrappings wasn’t a box of sweets.

  It was a book.

  On registering the difference, Alice gave a dissatisfied little growl.

  Alice knew that Sharon loved books—particularly “romans novels,” or whatever they were called. She’d once been the target of an enthusiastic lecture on how wonderful they were. She’d been told that they were the bible of “maidenly feelings” and “melting hearts,” and just packed with sweet-and-sour sentiments. Sharon’s intensity had been impressive, Alice thought.

  She’d been told to call Sharon “Sharon Onee-sama,” but she hadn’t und
erstood it at all.

  Only, when she had called her that because there was no help for it, Sharon had wriggled with joy.

  …Alice really didn’t understand it.

  “Grrr, I don’t get it. Something edible would be a lot better than something like this.”

  Alice flipped through the book with a bored expression, muttering complaints.

  Suddenly, the hand that was turning the pages stopped.

  She’d spotted an illustration.

  “??? …What’s this…?”

  Alice cocked her head, confused, and thought hard.

  3

  “Oh, Alice-san.”

  Sharon’s conversation with Sheryl, her grandmother, hadn’t taken very long at all, and when she returned to her room, there was Alice.

  Alice was standing at the far end of the room, facing the window. When Sharon called to her, she jumped and whirled around, looking terribly startled.

  “Sha-Sha-Sharon?! You…!”

  “Good afternoon,” Sharon said smoothly, nodding to her. She glanced at the room’s clock.

  “You’re early, aren’t you. There’s still an hour left before we’d planned to meet.”

  She’d sent a messenger to Pandora with a note saying she’d found a confection she thought Alice would like, and asking her to tea. In the message, she’d invited Oz and Gilbert as well, but she didn’t see them.

  “Alice-san? Where are the others?”

  “Huh? O-o-o-oh, them! Since we got here early, they said they were going to look at the rose garden or something—”

  Alice seemed nervous.

  “…Alice-san?” Sharon murmured, curiously.

  Alice’s behavior struck her as odd. It wasn’t a problem if Oz and Gilbert were out looking at the Rainsworth rose garden, and of course it wasn’t a problem that Alice had come to her room early, by herself. However, there was something strange about this particular Alice.

  The moment Alice had seen Sharon, she’d begun to inch backward, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. However, she soon came up against the window glass and was unable to go any farther.

  A cloud of question marks floated above Sharon’s head.