Compared with the district of aristocratic residences where he spent most of his time, even the air seemed to taste different.
Oz had visited streets before that commoners used.
However, on those occasions, it had either been late at night or he’d just been passing through, and he couldn’t really say he’d come into proper contact with them.
The street Oz saw now was completely different from those other times. Just standing around idly was enough to get him bumped into by all sorts of people. Naturally, none of them apologized—it was his fault for standing there and spacing out. He felt himself beginning to smile with eagerness and excitement.
Then:
Come to think of it, I wonder if Gil’s behaving…
Oz remembered Gilbert, who’d been left at Pandora Headquarters with orders to stay there.
His objective for the day was to go shopping in Old Town.
There was one other important condition for today’s outing:
Gilbert couldn’t be there.
Right. Gil was the last person I could’ve taken.
…If this plan was going to work, at any rate.
Gilbert was a faithful valet, and there was no way he could disobey an order from Oz, his master. However, when Oz had told him he’d be coming to this neighborhood, the area near the apartment where Gilbert lived alone, he’d immediately asked him to withdraw the order:
“Look, don’t go out by yourself! Please! Anyway, that area isn’t… The boulevards and the neighborhood where I rent my place aren’t bad, but if you go just a little farther out, it can get pretty rough. Give it more thought—No, I won’t tell you not to go, but at least take me with you…”
Gilbert pressed him, his expression earnest, but Oz thrust out a hand and spoke firmly:
“Nope. I’m going by myself.”
“Why?! What for?!”
“Nn, it’s confidential, sort of… Or maybe it’s a secret.”
“They’re the same thing!”
Oz evaded, but Gilbert wouldn’t back down easily, either, and the argument—“Take me with you!” “No!”—went on for a while. At that point, their squabble made Alice sit up in bed. She spoke, looking as if she was still half-asleep:
“Oz, I don’t know where you’re going, but if they have yummy stuff to eat there, take me with.”
“Sure, Alice. Let’s go.”
“WHY, Oz?!!”
Oz couldn’t help snickering a bit at the memory. However…
“All right.”
Abruptly, his face was taut and businesslike. Oz hadn’t come here just to see the sights.
“Now I have to figure out how to find what I’m after…”
Right: He couldn’t simply enjoy himself. He had a mission to complete, and he couldn’t be careless.
I left Gil back at Pandora… My expedition partner is—
Oz glanced to the side.
There was Alice, looking around as if she was searching for something. To everyone else, we probably stick out like a pair of sore thumbs, he thought. There was no point in worrying about it. For now, they had to search every inch of the street.
“Let’s get moving, Alice! Nothing’s going to happen if we just keep standing here.”
“Mm, that’s fine, but Oz…”
Nodding, Alice looked straight at Oz.
“I’m hungry. Feed me something.”
“…Ah……”
“Let’s see. Right now, I feel like eating meat. Get me meat.”
“You always feel like that.”
“Hmph. —Of course!”
Alice spoke as if she was bragging, and Oz gave a wry smile.
He reconsidered. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to fill their bellies before they started, even if they did it because she’d gotten the jump on him.
Fortunately, there were lots and lots of food stalls on the street. Appetite-whetting aromas wafted from every stall, and they heard the voices of barkers energetically attracting customers.
With Alice beside him, Oz began walking, wondering which stall to choose. …But Alice had already stopped in front of one.
“Step right up!” the owner’s voice greeted them. When Oz looked, he saw that the front of the stall was lined with skewers of grilled chicken that sent up fragrant smoke. As she gazed at the ranks of grilled skewers, Alice’s eyes were sparkling. Naturally, her mouth looked about ready to start drooling at the corners.
“You want this one?” Oz asked, just to make sure, and Alice nodded. However, her eyes promptly went to the stall that was doing business right next door.
“No, that one’s good, too.”
She pointed at a mountain of just-boiled sausages. Then, immediately lured by a different smell, she turned around, pointing to a butcher shop that was visible across the street. Maybe because it was lunchtime, the butcher shop was selling grilled meat from its storefront.
“Ohhh, I want to eat it all! Oz, this is a wonderful place!”
Drat, Oz thought. To Alice, the street at lunchtime might as well have been an El Dorado.
Of course, if Oz had been able to buy her as much as she wanted, he would have loved to do it. However, today was—
“No. No way, Alice! Just one place. Pick one.”
“Why?!”
“Because there’s something more important than buying food. We can’t be extravagant, not today.”
Alice might have sensed a hint of severity in Oz’s words; she grumbled a little: “Hrnn.
“Oz… Only one, whatever we do, no matter what?”
“Mm-hm, one.”
“Hrrrrrrrrrrrrnn…”
Alice gave a long, long growl; she seemed thoroughly undecided. Then, from a short distance away, a deep voice called to them:
“Heeeey, you two! Kids! Not sure where to go? Pick my place!”
“???”
At the voice, Oz and Alice both turned to look, and then…
They saw…
“Oh, oh, oooooooooooooooooooooooh…!!” Alice cried out in surprise and admiration.
Wow. Oz also caught his breath, involuntarily.
Hanging at that stall was a whole roasted pig.
It was a truly powerful sight, the sort that begged for a “Ta-daaa!”
The roasted pig seemed to have already had bits carved off it here and there, but most of it was still left. On seeing their reactions, the stall owner laughed loudly, smacking his shoulder with the blunt side of a big carving knife.
Alice shot over like an arrow and began bouncing around the roasted pig.
“This, Oz! I want this! This is it!”
Flustered, Oz walked over to her.
“Alice-san, Alice-san! He isn’t selling the whole thing.”
“If you can eat the whole thing, I sure don’t mind selling it to you.”
The owner spoke jokingly, then guffawed. Oh, I wish you hadn’t said that! Oz thought. And right then:
“—Oho. You think I couldn’t finish off that much meat, do you?”
Alice’s expression abruptly changed to a defiant smile. She crossed her arms, looking up at the big stall owner.
The owner probably thought she’d responded to his joke with one of her own. He opened his big mouth even wider, laughed coarsely, and said something else uncalled-for: “If you eat the whole thing, I’ll give it to you for free.”
A perilous voice that held the hint of a dangerous smile came from Alice’s mouth.
Baring her gleaming white teeth:
“Fu-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, well said! You did know who I was when you said that, didn’t you?! You’ll regret it! If you want to fill my belly, you’ll have to bring out two or three more of those. I’ll carve that into your foolish soul—”
“Wait, wait, Alice-san, wait! You, too, mister!”
Alice was wearing such an aura of gluttony that she seemed ready to devour anything she touched, but a split second before she leapt at the roasted pig, Oz managed to cut in.
“What are you doing, Oz?!”<
br />
As Alice yelled, Oz gave a sigh of relief.
Th-that was close…!
If he’d been a moment later, a horrific carnivorous banquet would have commenced in a corner of this Old Town street. Alice was watching Oz, looking put out. For his part, possibly because he’d been overwhelmed by Alice’s nearly bloodthirsty appetite, the stall owner’s forehead was greasy with sweat.
Alice seemed to want to say, What’s wrong with accepting a fight he picked?! Oz held up a hand to stop her and smiled at the stall owner.
“We just need two regular orders! Or, no, two for Alice, so…three orders total!
“…………Uh, yeah.”
With an overawed nod, the stall owner began carving the pork. Alice grumbled, dissatisfied. The owner squeezed sauce over the carved pork with a practiced hand, nimbly wrapped the orders in paper, then held them out to Oz and Alice. When Oz said, “Thank you,” the stall owner stuck out a hand.
Oz tilted his head slightly, puzzled. Then he took the hand, thinking the man must be asking for a handshake.
“Thank you very much.”
“Snrk!” The stall owner burst out laughing.
“Money, boy. Money. Don’t tell me you’re planning to eat for free.”
“Ah, I-I’m sorry!”
“What’re you, some pampered rich kid? Never gone shopping on your own before?”
The owner guffawed loudly.
Aaaaaagh, how embarrassing!
Even Oz had made a few minor purchases before. He’d shaken the man’s hand involuntarily, out of sheer carelessness. Still, somehow—It felt as if the owner had seen through to the sheltered upbringing he’d received as a child of the nobility.
Red-faced, Oz searched the pockets of his trousers. He took one paper bill out of his wallet and handed it to the stall owner.
The owner took coins from the counter and put them on Oz’s palm, saying, “There’s your change. Thank ye kindly!”
Having gotten her meat, Alice was already almost finished with one order.
Oz gazed at the few coins in his palm; he seemed lost in thought.
“What’s wrong, Oz?”
At Alice’s puzzled voice, Oz answered a little self-consciously; his eyes were still on the coins. “I was just thinking, this is a first.”
“A first? What is?” Alice looked blank.
“Nothing.” Oz shook his head. “Let’s go.” He put the coins into his wallet, thanked the owner again, and moved away from the stall. He hadn’t wanted the stall owner to hear the rest of what he was going to say.
Oz murmured in a small voice:
“This is the first thing I ever bought with my own money.”
—Then.
Oz stopped, startled, and looked back.
“…………?”
He saw people, people, people coming and going on the street. The confused hubbub leapt into his ears. He turned, looking around him. “Hmm…” Oz cocked his head. Alice was stuffing her face with roast pork, and as she spoke, her mouth was smeared with sauce.
“What now? You never settle down, do you.”
“It felt like we were being watched. Sorry, it’s nothing. All right, let’s find somewhere to sit down and eat. …Except, Alice-san, you’re done already, aren’t you. Um… Do you want half of mine? I’m not all that hungry.”
“Sure, I’ll eat it for you,” Alice answered instantly.
3
As a matter of fact, someone actually had been watching Oz.
A narrow alley opened off the side of the crowded, teeming street. Someone was leaning against the alley wall, breathing roughly. They’d hastily dived into the alley before Oz’s eyes could catch them.
The alley was squeezed between tall buildings; it was a wretched place, practically a garbage dump. Very little sunlight filtered in, and a fishy stench hung in the damp air. Except for a few wandering rats and that lone figure, it was deserted.
The figure breathed harshly for a while, then muttered:
“…I thought he’d see me. That was close—”
They gulped. They messed with their bangs, trying to hide their face, as though attempting to avoid being seen, even in the empty alley.
Yes, the figure was…
None other than Oz’s faithful valet, Gilbert.
Gilbert shook his head, lecturing himself:
“No, I’m here because I had an errand to run. It wouldn’t hurt anything if he did see me…”
Right, right. He nodded.
“I only came down to Old Town to check on my apartment, and since I was already in the neighborhood, I was wandering around the street. Then I just happened to see Oz. That means it’s fine to get out there and walk tall. I have nothing to feel guilty about.”
Even as he came to that conclusion, Gilbert cautiously peeked out of the alley, moving like a sneak thief, searching for Oz.
He didn’t find him immediately, but he managed to spot his slight back as it disappeared into the crowd.
Oz seemed to be moving farther and farther down the street, taking Alice with him. Gilbert was still in the alley, and the distance between them was widening.
Shooing away the rats that were gathering around his feet, he slipped out of the alley into the street. He walked along, blending with the crowd, maintaining a perfect distance: not far enough to lose sight of Oz, and not close enough to be noticed.
Still… Why did Oz have to come to a place like this to do his shopping? Gilbert wondered, perplexed.
To Gilbert, who rented an apartment in Old Town, Hodgepodge Street was a very familiar place. Living alone, he was both indebted to it and fond of it. However, Oz was a son of the four great dukedoms, and it wasn’t a suitable place for him to be.
Ahead of Gilbert, Oz stopped in front of a shop. When Gilbert saw that, he ducked into the shadow of a nearby lamppost, concealing himself.
No matter how you looked at it, he was a fine example of a shadow.
The customer was known as “the Prince.”
Having given half of his own roast pork to Alice, Oz was feeling a little unsatisfied, and he stopped by a greengrocer’s.
He was thinking about buying some apples. Alice, who’d eaten two-and-a-half orders, still didn’t seem full, so he’d buy for her as well.
When he consulted the contents of his wallet, he thought he could probably afford two.
Outside the greengrocer’s, a man who seemed to be the shopkeeper was chatting with some regular customers. When he saw Oz and Alice, he spoke to them: “Ah, step right up. Pick whatever you like!” All the fruit displayed in front of the store looked nice and fresh.
The apples Oz had been looking for were piled up in a pyramid, and he found them right away. However, since he had the opportunity, Oz took a good look at all the fruit that was on display.
Living at the Vessalius mansion or at Pandora Headquarters, he almost never got a chance to see places where fruit was sold this way. Apples, oranges, apricots, grapes, figs, black cherries, pears, and so on and so on.
It was only fruit, lined up in no particular order, but to Oz, it looked like a casket of jewels. Just the sight of it was enough to make his heart dance.
Alice kept reaching for anything and everything. As he admonished her—“Don’t do that”—Oz pointed to a basket of strawberries. “Mister, how much are these strawberries?”
“Hmm? Oh, those are…”
The shopkeeper promptly told him how much a basketful cost, but Oz didn’t know the market price, and he had no idea whether they were expensive or cheap.
To Oz, fruit had always been something that was delivered to the mansion and set on the table as dessert. There’s so much I don’t know, he thought. He wasn’t about to get depressed over it, but it also wasn’t something he could bring himself to be proud of.
I wonder if Gil knows all about things like this… I bet he does.
Gilbert’s face rose in his mind. Gilbert lived by himself in a rented apartment in Old Town.
“You’re not one of the neighborhood brats, are you?”
The shopkeeper had spoken to him, and there was a smile in his voice. Oz scratched his forehead with a finger, embarrassed.
“Erm, is it that obvious?”
“Well, yeah. For one thing, the stuff you’re wearing looks first-rate.”
“Does it?”
Oz looked at his clothes, but he couldn’t see what the man was talking about.
“The only kid around here who wears duds that nice is the president’s tyke.”
“The president?”
“Of the street’s commercial association. He’s got a snot-nosed kid who always plays around here. You look like you’ve been brought up even better than him. Something about you says ‘quality.’ You’re some aristocrat’s son, aren’t you?”
“……Yes.”
Oz’s answer was timid. At that, the shopkeeper hemmed a bit and folded his arms, cocking his head as though something had struck him as odd. As Oz watched the man, wondering what had happened, the shopkeeper noticed his gaze and laughed. “No, well…
“Come to think of it, there’s the Prince, too. Another guy who looks like he was brought up proper, like you—”
The Prince? Oz tilted his head, perplexed, and the shopkeeper said:
“Ah, he’s a regular at the shops around here; we nicknamed him that ourselves.”
“…The Prince of Old Town…”
As Oz murmured, the shopkeeper looked up and down the street, muttering, “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him around for quite a while now.”
The Prince. What an odd nickname.
“What kind of person is he?”
“Let’s see… All I know is that he lives by himself here in the neighborhood. He’s got an eye for merchandise that’s the envy of any shopkeeper. He keeps his wallet shut real tight. He never buys stuff he doesn’t need. He’s so good at chores that a whole gang of housewives couldn’t beat him.”
Wow… Oz was very impressed.
“Well, if you want to hear about the Prince, these folks can tell you more. —C’mon in!”
Glancing toward the front of the store, the shopkeeper called to a few housewives who’d just entered.
PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 3 Page 5