As a valet who served a master, could there be any words he would have been happier and more grateful to hear?
He was glad from the bottom of his heart that Oz was his master.
His smile was soft, and the corners of his eyes grew hot as tears of joy welled up. Then Gilbert gasped, and the smile vanished.
And even so, that master gave me an order, and I’ve…!
The air that had brimmed over with happiness grew dull and depressed. He’d gone against Oz’s orders and come to this neighborhood. Gilbert’s conscience weighed heavily on his back. I’m so… I’m such a—!
He held his head, writhing, and an anguished cry escaped him: “Uwaaaaaaaaah!”
Just then:
“Tearing up, then writhing in agony… You’re a busy fellow, aren’t you, Gilbert-kun.”
“………?!?!”
At the sudden voice, Gilbert turned as if he’d been stung. His eyes were wide and round.
“B-Break?! Why—”
Why are you here? Gilbert had been about to ask, but Break stuck out his swordstick, forestalling him, and he swallowed the words. “I’d rather not have the same conversation twice,” Break told him. Gilbert had no idea what he was talking about.
As Gilbert looked discombobulated, Break glanced from the alley to the street and continued:
“Oz-kun left. Shouldn’t you be going after him?”
“………!”
Gilbert had nothing but questions.
Why was Break here? Why did he seem to know what was going on? However, this wasn’t the time to grill him about it. If he failed to watch over his master after he’d committed the crime of disobeying his order, things would be truly hopeless.
“Thanks,” he told Break, simply, then broke into a run.
As he passed Break, a white silk cloth danced in front of his eyes. On reflex, he caught it. It was a handkerchief.
“Wash it and return it later, please. Your nose is running.”
Red-faced, Gilbert pressed the handkerchief to his nose and raced from the alley.
He didn’t hear Break’s final murmur:
“I wonder if Gilbert-kun will be all right… Now, then.”
7
The two of them had been parentless children from the same orphanage.
New orphans came to the facility at different times, and they left for new homes at different times as well, and so, although the pair had been at the same orphanage, the time they’d spent together had been very brief. There were many children who’d spent longer together than they had.
As a result, Ivel had forgotten the boy who’d been with him for that short time.
…Until the very last moment.
The climax of the story.
Ivel the detective’s brilliant deductions had finally brought the murderer to bay, and he was mortally wounded by the guards’ bullets. It happened in Old Town, in a decaying backstreet like a refuse dump.
Ivel walked up to the murderer, who lay in a pool of blood, his life nearly gone.
Then he spoke to him.
The murderer had been a master of disguise. Why, then, had he never removed his black leather gloves? They’d provided his pursuers with an important clue. Then, Ivel revealed his reasoning: He believed that the murderer had wanted to be pursued and discovered.
However, with a hoarse laugh, the murderer rejected the detective’s theory. “That couldn’t be,” he said.
As he spoke, the murderer raised his head from the pool of blood.
For the first time, the detective and the murderer were face-to-face.
Then, in him, Ivel saw…the shadow of the boy from the orphanage with whom he’d parted so long ago.
The boy had spent a very brief time at the orphanage with him. His name was Arrond.
With that, Ivel remembered everything.
They’d been close in age, and they’d often played together. Once, Ivel had helped out at a butcher’s shop in Old Town, and with his very first wages, he’d bought a pair of black leather gloves…and had given them to him.
He’d told Arrond there was no real meaning to it. He’d accidentally bought the adult size, he’d said, and they didn’t fit his hands, so he was giving them to him. However, Arrond was no different, and when he’d put the gloves on his hands, the size was all wrong.
Arrond had looked troubled, but Ivel had laughed and told him they’d fit once he grew up.
It was a trivial anecdote from a distant night.
Then the murderer left his last words:
“It’s strange, isn’t it? Even I don’t understand. I abandoned everything, became something who did nothing but steal human lives. Even so, even after I’d thrown everything away, I couldn’t get rid of these leather gloves. I don’t know why. I don’t even remember how I got them.”
The murderer looked at Ivel, and his expression was as young as it had been back then.
“Ah, you were right, master detective. I must have wanted you to find me.”
Ivel knelt in the pool of blood, hugging the corpse to his chest, and howled.
There the tale ended.
Over Hodgepodge Street, the sun was well into its journey down the sky.
“…They’re nowhere.”
They’d walked from one end of the long street to the other. Oz sat on an old, worn bench by the roadside; his expression was a bit dejected.
Alice sat next to Oz, licking a lollipop. Oz had bought it for her because he’d felt guilty about dragging her all over the place.
“I thought it would be pretty easy to find a shop that sold leather gloves.”
“Want to go back to that one store?”
Alice meant the secondhand clothing store where they’d heard Gilbert insulted. It probably was the best possibility.
Even so, with no hesitation, Oz shook his head.
“No way. I can’t give Gil something I bought at a place like that.”
After he said it, he realized it was the first time he’d said he was looking for a present for Gilbert.
He’d kept that a secret the whole time, and not only from Gilbert: He hadn’t told a soul.
Not even Alice.
Still, although it must have been the first Alice had heard of it, she didn’t react. Maybe she’d already heard that much when he was talking about the black leather gloves in his sleep. …Or maybe she just wasn’t interested, and was concentrating on eating her candy.
Oz scratched his cheek, a little embarrassed. He looked up at the slanting sunlight and repeated the words to himself:
“Right, I’m giving them to Gil… That’s the plan.”
The idea had hit him in the midst of the emotion and excitement he’d felt when he finished reading the book he’d borrowed from Elliot.
The black gloves Ivel, the detective, had given Arrond, who’d become a murderer. Their fates, bound together after long years by that present from childhood.
“There’s no real meaning to it.
“I accidentally bought the ones for adults, and they didn’t fit my hands.”
As he’d read, it had felt to Oz as if Ivel simply said these words to hide his embarrassment.
It hadn’t been stated in the book, but he thought Ivel had probably wanted to use the first money he’d earned by himself on a present for someone.
However, he hadn’t known what sort of reason to give, so he’d come up with a childish, lame excuse.
In aristocratic society, presents were an everyday occurrence, and were sometimes even given as greetings. Except for the ten-year gap when he’d been in the Abyss, Oz had given Gilbert a present on his birthday every year. Those presents hadn’t been casual, greeting-type presents. They’d had actual feeling behind them.
However.
Strictly speaking, the power behind the presents came from the House of Vessalius, not from Oz himself. Oz had never given Gilbert something purchased with money he’d earned on his own.
After reading the book, this had begun to feel like
a huge difference to him.
“………Haaah.”
He leaned back into the bench, giving a little sigh.
Sensing eyes on him, he glanced over at Alice, who sat beside him. She was watching him, her lollipop still in her mouth.
He’d thought she must have gotten bored, or tired, or sick of being dragged around, but this didn’t seem to be the case.
All Alice’s eyes said was, Well? What next?
Oz looked back at the buildings that lined the street.
Then, as if talking to himself, he murmured:
“It’s a little far, but we could try going to the place I heard about.”
The young man who’d worked as a clerk at the shop where they’d bought the lollipop had told him about it, a little while ago.
Oz had asked him if there was any place other than Hodgepodge Street that might sell leather gloves. The young man had told him that, if you walked west from the street for a little ways, there was an alley with rows of street vendors. If they’d searched Hodgepodge Street and hadn’t found what they were looking for, going there was about the only thing left to try.
…But, the youth had warned them, lowering his voice:
The alley with the stalls was close to a dangerous area known as the Bottom of Old Town.
Since that was the case, the young man had told them to make sure they stayed away from it.
It’s all right. I know. …Okay.
Having made up his mind, Oz got up from the bench, turned to Alice, and spoke:
“Let’s go, Alice.”
They set off, walking side by side. They heard the shops’ barkers attracting customers, and the hum of voices from the busily milling crowd. In the bustle, Oz abruptly heard an animal’s growl—or rather, a human voice that sounded like a growl—and he looked in that direction.
His eyes found the back of a big man who probably weighed five or six times as much as Oz did. The big man was standing on the other side of the street, next to a cart piled high with cargo, and he was yelling something, nearly howling.
A lollipop lay on the ground by the man’s feet. It seemed to be broken in half and coated with dust.
Alice snorted at the sight.
“A great big man, fussing over dropped food. That’s ridiculous.”
Oz nodded slightly, then seemed to remember something:
“Huh? But Alice, a little while back, when you dropped that sparerib on the floor, you—”
“It’s fine if I do it.”
Alice spoke flatly, as if it was only natural.
This was very like Alice, and Oz chuckled. He felt as though some of the tension had gone out of his shoulders.
He looked up at the sky. It was getting close to sunset.
He thought about Gilbert, back at Pandora Headquarters. It would be mean of him to stay out too late, on top of ordering Gilbert to stay there. His valet was a worrywart at the best of times, and he was probably waiting anxiously for him to come home.
I’ll head back really soon. —I’m sorry, Gil!
Meanwhile, as his master was apologizing to him this way, Gilbert was…
“Uh, erm… Well.”
“Y-y-youuuuuu, you just ran right into me, and my—MY!—precious, sweet li’l lolly fell on the dirty groooooooooound! Wh-wh-what’re you gonna DO about it, huuuuuuuuuh?!”
…Was currently behind the cart, being badgered by the big man.
It had happened when he’d seen Oz and Alice leave the street, heading west, and had hastily started to follow them. Gilbert had been in a hurry. There was a particularly rough area to the west of Old Town. If it looked as though Oz and Alice were heading toward it, he’d have to stop them before they went in.
As, thinking this, he hurried out from his hiding place, he’d crashed into a big man who’d had a lollipop in his hand. He’d gone flying, ending up right back behind the cart again. He’d rolled on the ground and banged his back.
When, feeling dizzy, Gilbert had turned his gaze to the big man’s feet, he saw the lollipop, broken in half and lying on the cobbles.
Gilbert got up. He was tall, but a thick voice bellowed down at him from even farther up:
“Apologiiiiiiize, apologiiiiiiiize!”
“—I’m sorry. Use this to buy another one.”
He had to hurry after Oz.
Pushed into motion by that thought, Gilbert took some coins from his wallet, holding them out to the big man as he passed him.
However, his hand was roughly smacked away.
Coins scattered across the cobbles.
“Whaaaaaat is with that attitude, huuuuuh?! Do you actually feel sorry?! Do yoooooooooou?!”
Gilbert’s behavior seemed to have poured oil on the big man’s wrath. Even if he had been to blame, he thought, he’d gotten pulled into something troublesome.
“And anyway, what’re you apologizing to me for?! Apologize to the lollyyyyyy! Poor li’l thing, all broken and covered in duuuuust! Get down on your knees, on the ground, and APOLOGIZE WITH TEARS IN YOUR EYES! ‘I’m terribly sorry, lolly!’”
The man’s voice was dead serious. It was filled with rage, and also with grief for the broken candy.
…What’s wrong with this guy?
A sense of amazed disgust was spreading through Gilbert’s heart.
He knew he’d been at fault, but the big man’s language had reached the realm of the absurd.
He didn’t have time to waste on a lengthy exchange. He was going to lose sight of Oz.
Although he seemed calm on the surface, inside, Gilbert’s chest churned with impatience, and his thoughts raced uselessly.
I have to hurry and follow Oz. This is no time to be messing around like this. But it was my fault he dropped his lollipop, and I need to apologize and have him forgive me… No, I did apologize and I said I’d pay for a replacement, so why is this happening? I have to hurry and follow him. I need to have him forgive me. Oz. The lollipop. I have to follow the lollipop—Wait, no, no, Oz is the lollipop— No, the lollipop is Oz, and… That’s not it. This isn’t it!
I have to follow Oz!
Gilbert gritted his teeth and bowed his head. He steeled himself.
His eyes darted up, and he sent a sharp glare at the man.
When he spoke, he could not have been more serious:
“I won’t kneel, but I’ll apologize one more time. —‘Lollipop, I’m sorry.’”
That should do it. He started walking away, quickly.
However, it apparently wasn’t enough for the big man, and he wouldn’t let him go quietly. With a roar like a raging bull, he bore down on Gilbert, swinging a thick, log-like arm at him. Gilbert had half expected things to turn out this way, and he dodged the arm easily.
The big man went badly off-balance.
Then:
“Use those coins to buy yourself a new one, all right?”
With that, Gilbert kicked the man’s feet out from under him.
The big man had been moving fast, and he flew into the air, then landed on the cobbles on his back. The back of his head smashed into the broken candy, shattering it. He cried out in anguish, but Gilbert had already chased the big man from his mind and run off.
He looked for Oz, but…
It was too late. Oz and Alice had vanished from the street.
8
As he left Hodgepodge Street, traveling west, the townscape gradually changed.
There were fewer detached houses, and the streets became lined with plain, four- or five-story apartment buildings. There were no large streets, only a complicated web of narrow alleys that ran between the buildings.
Oz… Where are you?!
Gilbert ran, weaving through the alleys, searching for Oz and Alice. There wasn’t much time left before sunset. Once that happened, night would come fast. It would be no time for Oz, a son of the House of Vessalius, to be out walking around without his valet.
The area was silent. Only Gilbert’s footsteps echoed through it.
“
………?!”
On turning a corner—he’d lost track of how many corners that made—Gilbert stopped, startled.
A figure was curled up on the ground by the side of the road.
It was an old man, wrapped in dirty, ragged clothes. Gilbert made his footsteps loud as he approached, watching for a reaction, but the old man didn’t move a muscle. For a moment, he wondered if it was a corpse, but as he got closer, he caught the smell of alcohol drifting from the old man.
…Oh. A drunk, huh?
Relieved, Gilbert knelt in front of the old man. Thinking even as he did so that it was probably a waste of time, he set his hands on the old man’s shoulders and shook him roughly.
There was no immediate response, but as he kept calling “Hey!”, heavy eyelids opened, and cloudy eyes turned Gilbert’s way.
His lips worked, but he couldn’t speak clearly, and Gilbert wasn’t able to make out what he said.
Gilbert hadn’t been expecting a decent conversation in the first place. Scowling at the stench of liquor on the old man’s breath, he put his face close to the man’s ear and bellowed a question:
“Have you seen a kid?! Anywhere around here?!”
If there was no response, he intended to leave immediately. A second after he’d asked the question, Gilbert had already begun to stand up.
However:
“I saw.”
A reply did come, in a hoarse, unsteady voice. Taken by surprise, Gilbert froze.
He grabbed the old man’s arm, but just as he was about to hastily ask his next question—
“A blond brat in good clothes…got taken away by…’s lot.”
That’s Oz!
The situation could not have been worse.
Gilbert let go of the old man’s arm, practically shoving him away, and took off like a shot.
The name the old man had spoken in that hard-to-follow voice had belonged to a criminal organization that was notorious in Old Town.
The Gray Snake was a syndicate that conducted a variety of nefarious activities from its base of operations in the Bottom. Pandora was in charge of keeping the peace in Reveil, and from what Gilbert remembered, they were investigating the Gray Snake as well.
If he’d been taken away by a member of that organization…then Oz was in the Bottom, right now.
PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 3 Page 8