PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 2 (17 page)

Alice puffed out her chest with an attitude that seemed to say,
The world revolves around me!
Once again, Oz’s words deserted him. As Oz sat in silence, Gilbert watched him worriedly.

Failing to notice Oz’s appearance, Alice said that, when she’d told the mother she was going to make children, too, the mother had asked if she had someone to help her do that. When Alice answered that she had a servant who could be ordered to do anything, the woman had given a strained little smile and asked her a question:
“Do you love that person?”

Then the mother had said this to Alice as well:

“If you’re going to make children, you should choose the person you’d most like to eat your meals with as your partner.”

“I don’t understand the ‘love’ bit, but…I gave it some thought, too.”

At that point, Alice faltered, but then she continued:

“…I thought, well, if I had to pick someone to eat with, you’d probably be best, Oz.”

As she spoke, she blushed slightly.

Oh—

At the sight of that expression, something clicked inside Oz. It was the same expression Alice had had in the room earlier, when he’d asked her if she really knew what making a child meant.

Possibly in an attempt to hide her embarrassment, Alice’s expression grew a bit irritated.

“That’s not all. The lady said something uncalled for, too. She said if my partner didn’t want to, I mustn’t force him. She said children I made that way wouldn’t make food taste better at all. She said it was okay to ‘request’ that you do it, but—What a total nuisance!”

I see.
Everything made sense to Oz now. That was why Alice had uncharacteristically phrased it in the form of a request.

This cleared up all the mysteries.

Oz’s lips moved:
Was
that
what it was?
He was actually smiling, faintly.

Oh, man…

He felt like an idiot for worrying about it seriously. It was hopelessly ridiculous. He was going to laugh. He couldn’t possibly
not
laugh. “Heh-heh-heh…” His head was still down, and Oz’s shoulders were shaking. Flustered, Gilbert asked, “Wh-what is it?!”

Oz didn’t respond.

Oh, man. Oh, man. Oh, man…

His internal voice held a mixture of amazement and disgust, and it didn’t continue past “Oh, man.” And then, abruptly, Oz tossed the white cat aside and leapt to his feet.

Then he made a great proclamation:

“Well, okay! Let’s do it, Alice! Let’s make our kid!”

“
Eeeeeeeeeeh?!
” Gilbert was horribly disturbed.

Alice romped around ecstatically. “Yes, let’s, let’s!”

“Wh-wh-wh-what are you saying, Oz?! Calm down!”

Gilbert had gone white as a sheet. He tried to stop Oz, but Oz ignored him. Waving his hands around, he cried:

“While we’re at it, let’s make lots! If just one makes things taste many times better, I bet several of them will make things taste
dozens
of times better, Alice! It’ll be fine! Gil will help us take care of them, right, Gil?! Okay, why don’t we go all out and make ten or so?! Hah hah haaaaaaah!!”

“Oz…… Did something snap……?!” Gilbert was panicking.

“
Dozens
of times! That’s
amazing
, Oz!”

As Alice looked jubilant, Oz punched a fist up into the sky.

With a brilliant, slightly hysterical smile, he yelled:

“We’ll have the biggest family in the world
!!”

Oh, but…
Oz thought.

He was sure the vision that rose in his mind was impossible. There he was, and there was Alice, and Gilbert, surrounded by lots of children. How lively and fun would that be? The idea was so funny that Oz laughed, and soon he couldn’t stop laughing.

He laughed so hard he cried.

If that came true, it would be so very warm and happy.

Probably so much so that he’d cry, just the way he was crying now.

……Afterward.

Of course, Oz got an endless lecture from Gilbert and took back his proclamation.

This put Alice out of sorts, and he ended up having to treat her to a mountain of gourmet meat dishes.

And then….

Alice seemed satisfied that delicious things were delicious, whether there were children around or not.

~ Fin ~

—From the divination corner in this morning’s newspaper

When he woke that morning, he had a crick in his neck.

When he got out of bed, he stepped on a glass that was lying on the floor and fell down. The glass broke, and he cut the sole of his foot on the shards. When he got out the first-aid box to tend to the wound, he discovered he was out of ointment. With no better options, he wrapped it in plain gauze.

He looked in the mirror and tried to fix his cowlicks, but—today of all days—none of them got the least bit better.

When he drank his tea at breakfast, he accidentally put in salt instead of sugar: The containers had been in each other’s usual place.

After that, when he was walking across the courtyard at Pandora Headquarters, a swallow pooped on him from far up in the sky.

On top of that, the odd-jobs man who was tending the potted plants on the second-story balcony accidentally dropped the watering can, and the water splashed down right over him. On top of
that
, as he was on his way back to his room to change clothes, he bumped into a Pandora staff member, his hat fell off, and the other man stepped on it.

The hat-stomper hadn’t meant any harm, and he apologized frantically, so of course he forgave him.

It was his precious hat, given to him by a special person.

As he held his hat—his soaking wet, pooped-on, stomped-on hat—he couldn’t help but think a certain thought.

Although he’d only been awake for a few hours…

Gilbert Nightray felt compelled to mutter it to himself, silently:

“This is not my lucky day…”

Then. After lunch.

As if fate was trying to finish him off, he received a summons from the Nightray manor, his family home.

The business they’d summoned him for was trivial, and the matter was dealt with quickly.

Gilbert’s room had been left just as it was ever since he moved out of the main Nightray residence. They’d only wanted to ask him what should be done with it in the future.

Gilbert had told them to do whatever they liked with everything in it, that he left it entirely in their hands. He also wished they wouldn’t summon him over little things like that, but he didn’t say it. Saying it would only have earned him more scoldings and nastiness from his adoptive father and older siblings.

He wanted to get back to Pandora Headquarters, and to his master, quickly.

I can’t breathe… This house is seriously uncomfortable.

Ever since he’d started living on his own, he’d kept away from the main house as much as possible. After he’d finished his discussion with his adoptive father and siblings, Gilbert left the drawing room and walked down the corridor at a smart clip. It was almost as if he was saying he didn’t want to run into any other members of the Nightray family.

He hoped this senseless summons would be his last bit of bad luck.

…But.

But.

“……Phew.”

After he’d walked briskly down the long corridor, descended the great staircase, and arrived in the entry hall, Gilbert gave a small sigh of relief and slowed his pace. In front of him was a set of imposing double doors. Once he was through those, he’d be released from this oppressive mood.

“Gil, you came…”

Suddenly, from directly behind him, a voice spoke. Gilbert flinched violently.

It was a familiar voice. Its owner was…not the person he least wanted to meet, exactly, but the one who required the most nervous energy and the best mental preparations to deal with. The voice belonged to someone he absolutely did not want to meet this way: in the worst way possible, mere moments before he left the main residence as if he was running away.

It was his little brother’s voice.

Gilbert whirled around as if he’d been stung.

“……Oh, uh, Vince—”

His agitation and embarrassment made the turn an exaggerated one.

Gilbert twisted, arms flailing, turning back. The next instant, one of his arms struck something hard. Vincent Nightray—Gilbert’s full brother, just one year younger than he was—had been standing directly behind him, holding something to his chest: an old-fashioned vase. Gilbert’s arm sent this vase flying through the air.

“Ah.” Vincent’s lips moved. His mismatched eyes—one gold, one wine red—widened slightly.

“Eh?” Gilbert’s lips moved. His eyes followed the vase’s journey to the floor.

With an ear-splitting
craaaaaaaash
, the vase shattered. …Then there was silence.

For a moment, Gilbert didn’t understand what had happened. Confused, he looked from the shards scattered across the floor to Vincent, then back, several times. A faint smile crept onto Vincent’s drowsy face. “I happened to see you, so I spoke to you…” he said.

He’d stopped by the main residence, but had been attempting to leave without seeing his brother, and as he’d turned around, he’d broken the vase. These two things got muddled together in Gilbert’s mind, and he couldn’t order his words well.

“I, uh, they summoned me. —Sorry. I broke that…

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his voice unsteady.

“And which one might you be apologizing for…?”

Vincent smiled, as if he’d seen right through Gilbert’s anguish.

“…Both of them.”

It was the only answer Gilbert could give.

Vincent averted his eyes from Gilbert, looking down at the fragments of the vase. His face was expressionless; it even held traces of cruelty, as though he felt contempt for the vase. His delicate lips moved: “I see…” Then, with his eyes still on the shards, Vincent continued:

“You’re probably busy, Gil. I’m sure you have to return quickly…”

At those considerate words, Gilbert felt a bit relieved.

“So you see…I don’t really mind that you were going to leave without saying hello to me.”

“Thank you for saying th—”

“That vase wasn’t terribly valuable, either…”

His brother’s words left Gilbert even more relieved.

“Only…someone special gave it to me, and it was very, very important…”

Vincent lifted his gaze from the fragments and looked at Gilbert.

The cruelty had disappeared from his expression. Looking gentle, ephemeral, and vaguely entertained, Vincent said:

“Could we talk in my room for a little while, Nii-san…?”

There was no way Gilbert could refuse.

Even though it was still day, the curtains in Vincent’s room were closed.

On the table, the flames of a candelabra flickered.
In this room alone
, Gilbert thought,
it might as well be night.

The room was littered with broken dolls. Dolls that had had their arms and legs amputated with scissors; dolls whose torsos had been ripped open and the stuffing pulled out. Apparently his brother’s bad habit of cutting up dolls for fun was alive and well.

When he entered the room, he just stood there with the door at his back until Vincent prompted him: “Sit down.”

Vincent stretched out on one of two facing sofas, pointing to the other with a languid gesture.

With a small nod, Gilbert sat down on the edge of the sofa. He didn’t plan to stay long. Just until Vincent had said what he wanted to say.

When he saw that Gilbert had obediently taken a seat on the sofa, Vincent gave a faint smile.

Then he said a woman’s full name.

Even Gilbert had heard the family name. It belonged to a noble house that was influential in social circles.

“Her father favors the Nightrays, you see… From what I hear, Father is also somewhat in his debt. The young lady seems to have taken quite a liking to me… The vase you broke was a gift from her.”

“—I’m sorry.” Gilbert bowed his head conscientiously.

“Don’t worry about it… I wouldn’t get angry over anything you did, Gil. Only…I don’t know what she’ll think.”

Vincent furrowed his brow in concern.

“She’s asked me to see her socially many times… I’d rather not, so I turn her down, but… Considering the relationship between her family and the Nightrays, I can’t treat her coldly, so I accept her presents, at least. And you see…whenever her father brings her to visit, she checks. She makes sure her presents aren’t being treated badly…”

As he listened, tormented by guilt and remorse, Gilbert thought.

At first he’d wondered whether his little brother had acquired a “special lady-friend,” but apparently that wasn’t the case. He thought it was likely that both the “special someone” and the “important vase” were special and important, not to his brother personally, but to the Nightray family.

In that case, this wasn’t something he could resolve with an apology to Vincent.

“I’m sorry,” Gilbert said, bowing again.

“I’ll apologize to the lady and her father, Vince. I’ll tell them I broke the vase, and that you weren’t to blame—”

“An apology is all they’ll require of you, but…”

Vincent’s words held the implication that that really wouldn’t be enough to resolve things.

For an instant, the idea of finding and purchasing
something identical floated into Gilbert’s mind, but he banished it immediately.

In matters between two noble houses, such deception was not countenanced.

“…What should I do?” Gilbert looked wretched. At the question, Vincent sat up, glanced at Gilbert, and smiled softly.

“You don’t have to do anything, Gil… If I comply with one or two of her requests for dates, she’ll probably cheer up. I’ll just have to endure for a little while, that’s all…”

“Vince…” Aside from calling his brother’s name, Gilbert could do nothing.

The room was as gloomy as night, and for a while, it was filled with the sort of silence that came in the small hours of the morning, when everyone was fast asleep.

At length:

“…What should I do? For you, I mean.”

Gilbert repeated the words he’d spoken before, with a brief addition. Even if Vincent told him not to worry about it, and that he didn’t have to do anything, he knew he did. As an older brother, how should he compensate his little brother for the unnecessary burden his mistake had forced on him?

In response to Gilbert’s earnest question, Vincent said, “You’re so serious, Gil…” He smiled. “Really, there’s no need to worry about it… But, in that case, I might make one request…”

“A request?” Gilbert’s eyebrows drew together, dubiously.

Vincent laughed and nodded, adding that, although it might be a request, it was quite simple and nothing important.

Gilbert brooded slightly. Then, as if he’d made up his mind:

“If that’s what you want. What is it?”

“It’s really very simple… Once in a while, I’d like
you
to hug
me
tightly…!”

“‘Hug’?!”

In spite of himself, Gilbert froze up. The request had been both abrupt and unexpected.

It was true that, for years now—no, for as far back as he could remember—although Vincent had touched him, he’d never touched Vincent.

It had been that way ever since he met Vincent at the Nightray manor, almost ten years ago. Gilbert had lost nearly all memories of his childhood, and he’d been so confused by this “little brother” who’d been abruptly set in front of him that he hadn’t been able to move. In contrast, no sooner had Vincent seen his big brother than he’d run up to him and hugged him.

And so it had gone.

Even afterward.

That relationship continued to this day. He was overwhelmed and flustered by his brother, who always cut in first and showered him with an excess of affection. Behind that smile, it was hard to tell what he was feeling, what he was thinking, and Gilbert hesitated to approach him.

However, it wasn’t as if Gilbert hated his brother.

W-well, a hug isn’t much to ask—

He’d been startled, and he was a bit nervous, but if that would console his brother, it certainly was a simple thing.

Gilbert nodded.

“All ri—”

Just as he was on the verge of saying
All right
and getting up from the sofa…

“Heh-heh…”

He froze, startled by the little smile on Vincent’s face. A warning signal raced through his mind. Yes, a hug wasn’t much to ask. However, the sheer simplicity of it provoked misgivings. Frozen halfway to his feet, Gilbert questioned himself. His eyes widened slightly.

A hug… Is that really going to be the end of it?!

Would his brother really release him for a mere hug? What was he really trying to do, or trying to make him do? What was lurking beyond that hug?

Gilbert didn’t know what his brother was thinking. Since he didn’t know, he couldn’t help but feel wary. He probably wouldn’t get eaten. Even so, Gilbert felt like an insect being lured by the scent of a carnivorous plant.

He couldn’t budge from his awkward, half-finished position.

“What’s the matter…?” Vincent asked, tilting his head to one side.

Gilbert was as unresponsive as a statue.

“Can’t you do it, Gil…?”

Gilbert didn’t react. A storm of uncertainty raged inside his head. Finally:

“…It’s not…that I can’t, but…” He’d spoken as if squeezing the words out, and he sat back down on the sofa.

He couldn’t look Vincent in the face. He turned aside, hesitantly asking him if he could change his request to something else.

“I see. That’s a pity…”

However, from Vincent’s expression, he wasn’t sorry at all. His brother’s reaction seemed to make him happy. His expression was that of someone admiring something beloved from the bottom of his heart; he even seemed to welcome his brother’s wariness of him. “In that case…” Vincent said, changing tactics easily:

“Come…Echo.”

When he murmured to no one in particular, a cold voice spoke—“Yes, sir.”—although there didn’t seem to be anyone besides the two of them in the room. In the same moment, a slight shadow slipped lightly out from behind the sofa where Gilbert was sitting. The shape leapt over Gilbert’s head to land on the floor. It was a girl.

The girl was standing with her back to Gilbert. He’d never properly met or spoken to her, but Gilbert did know of her. Her name was Echo. He was fairly sure she was his brother’s valet, or something of the sort.

Echo bowed to Vincent, then spun to face Gilbert. Wordlessly, she bowed her head. In combination with her perfectly blank expression, it made her look just like a doll.