Thirty minutes later.
“…Xerx, the room is sort of rocking… What is…”
As he spoke, Reim’s face was slightly flushed.
Break laughed: “Huh-huh-huh.” His face was clearly redder than Reim’s. On his left shoulder, Emily cackled cheerfully, too.
“Well, well! What an odd situation this is. Reim-san, that’s known as ‘being drunk.’ Even unlikely things happen on occasion, it seems! You know, I feel sort of light and floaty myself~. Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
“You’re the one whosh… Nn, it’s you who’s drunk!”
Reim seemed to be having trouble enunciating; he tripped over his tongue in the middle of his comeback, which made Break laugh harder. At the same time, in a corner of his inebriated mind, he was astonished.
They’d only emptied about half of their second bottle. Ordinarily, even Break wouldn’t get seriously drunk on just a bottle and a half, and for Reim, it was absolutely unheard of. Break wondered if it was because he’d chosen the bottle at random. He’d selected it without much thought, and at first, Reim had said, “It tastes different, doesn’t it.” Still, they’d immediately declared, “…But not bad,” and gone right on drinking.
By now, Reim must also have felt that something was off. He stretched out a hand to Break, who was holding the bottle.
“Let me…take a look at that,” he said.
Since Break had been pouring the whole time, Reim hadn’t gotten a good look at the bottle.
“Go ahead.” Break held it out, but his hand slipped and he dropped it on the floor. Fortunately, the lid had been closed, so the contents didn’t spill. Reim looked disgusted. “It’s fine, I’ll get it.” He stood up. But…
“Oops—”
His feet were very slightly unsteady, and he staggered. From Break’s left shoulder, Emily promptly said, “Whoo, ‘weaving Reim’! I got me a super-rare one!”
“Don’t say ‘rare’! Honestly, you’re a bit too drunk, Xerx. You might pay for it tomorrow—”
Picking up the bottle as he spoke, Reim sat back down in his chair.
Then he looked at the label and fell silent. Break’s head flopped to one side in an exaggerated manner as he silently wondered what had happened. In a low voice, Reim murmured:
“Can’t read it.”
“My. If you’ve lost the ability to read, you’re too drunk.”
“No! I mean it’s written in letters I’ve never seen before.”
Break had no idea what he was talking about. Lowering his voice even further, Reim continued:
“…………Never mind that. Hey, Xerx.” His voice was shaking.
“Yes?” Break blinked.
Although it might have been his imagination, from Reim’s expression, he seemed to have sobered up all at once. His flushed face now looked pale. Reim wasn’t looking at the bottle’s label. He was holding the bottle up to the candles, letting the light shine through its contents.
“This liquor…has a pickled ‘lizard-like thing’ inside.”
“…Huh,” Break said in a parched voice.
“I’ve heard of that. Apparently
lots
of medicinal alcohol is like that. They’ll preserve snakes or lizards in it—”
“Listen to what I’m actually saying. I said ‘lizard-
like thing
.’ …It has horns.”
“A horned lizard…perhaps?”
“It has wings on its back. Bat wings.”
“…………………………”
“And two tails.”
“…………………………” Break felt himself sober up dramatically.
“And I can’t see that clearly through the glass, but…it’s got three eyes.”
In other words, it was…
“Mystery alcohol” with a mysterious lizard-like creature preserved in it!
It was if a cold wind had whistled through the room.
The window was shut properly, of course.
Reim’s entire body trembled, and he suddenly yelled, “Xerx, you—!” He closed in on Break.
“What have you been giving me to drink, you idiotic Xerx?! At least check to see what it is before you drink it! Don’t pour me dodgy liquids! What if that was poisonous?! I haven’t been moving very well for a while now; is that
actually
because I’m drunk?! What if I’m paralyzed, not drunk?! You drank it, too! What are we going to do if we both collapse—?!”
“Now, now, Reim-san. Calm down, please,” Break attempted to soothe Reim.
Break was also unsettled, but—maybe because his friend had overreacted before he could—he managed to remain calm. Considering that this had been a present given to the House of Rainsworth, he was sure it couldn’t be anything as dangerous as poison. However, possibly because his thoughts hadn’t taken him that far, Reim’s panic continued unabated:
“A-as if I could calm dow—”
“No, I mean, if you kick up a row like that…”
“Urp…” Reim was white as a sheet.
“…You’ll get queasy and throw up!”
The friendly warning came too late. Reim clapped a hand to his mouth and ran from Break’s room.
Is he going to be all right?
Cocking his head, Break picked up the mystery alcohol Reim had flung away.
He thought it was probably some sort of medicinal liquor that had been given to Sheryl.
The alcohol hadn’t seemed that strong, so what had intoxicated—or paralyzed—even Reim had probably been some sort of essence extracted from the mysterious lizard-like creature that had been preserved in it, rather than the alcohol itself. He had heard that medicinal alcohol agreed with some and disagreed quite remarkably with others…
“I thought I was going to die…”
Reim, who’d returned, white-faced, shot a dirty look at Break. Reim had never gotten sick from drinking, and it seemed to have been a pretty harsh experience.
“My head is pounding. …You’re all right, Xerx?”
“Nn—.” At the question, Break looked up at the ceiling.
“I’m still drunk, but it’s calmed down quite a bit. This mystery liquor might not have suited you, Reim-san. It’s probably wholesome as a general rule, but I wouldn’t drink any more of it if I were you.”
“…Not for love or money,” Reim responded. He sounded disgusted.
When Break suggested that he lie down on the bed for a while, Reim hesitated for a bit, then said that he would. He crossed to Break’s bed and fell down onto it, back first. Already beginning to drift off, he spoke very quietly:
“—right, Xerx?”
“?? Come again, Reim-san?”
“Listen… If anything’s…wrong, talk to me.”
Break’s eyes widened, very slightly.
“I’ll help…for sure—”
Having said that much, Reim’s breathing went soft and light. He was asleep.
Break almost never saw his friend sleep, and for a little while, he gazed at his face. Finally, he murmured something in a voice so small no one could have heard it. Then he took a new bottle of red wine from under the table and picked up the corkscrew.
“All right, I think I’ll drink a bit more, with the moon and my friend’s sleeping face as complements.”
Break’s voice was cheerful.
…How long had he slept?
Suddenly finding it hard to breathe, Reim opened his eyes.
What is it?
he thought. Something was covering his face. It wasn’t that heavy. It was warm, as if it was alive. It had short, smooth hair, and the thing that was covering Reim’s face said:
“Mew.”
“—?!” Reim sat up sharply.
The sudden movement sent a dull pain through his head, but the full-body drunkenness…or rather, his paralysis, had cleared up. The thing that had been on his face, a cat with white fur, hopped down to the floor, looked up at Reim, and mewed again. Break called to him carelessly, a wine glass in one hand.
“Sorry! I did tell him ‘no,’ but…”
“Wh-why is there a cat in this room?”
“He’s been here the whole time, since before you got here. Under the bed,” Break said, nonchalantly.
“Huh?” Reim was startled. Break continued:
“The door isn’t hung very well; sometimes it comes open
a little on its own. …He slipped in through the crack in the door at some point while I was getting ready for you. He got under the bed and wouldn’t come out, and he was behaving himself, so I left him alone, but—”
As he listened to Break’s explanation, Reim looked at the white cat. Then he realized that the ribbon tied around its neck was familiar.
“But that’s Ada-sama’s Snowdrop! What is he doing here…?”
“…Ada-sama’s…cat?”
In response to Break’s mystified question, Reim nodded. This time it was his turn to explain.
“I saw him once when I paid a visit to the Vessalius mansion. Ada-sama has two cats, Snowdrop and Kitty, and she seemed extremely fond of them. The cats were also quite attached to Ada-sama…”
“Hmm. In that case, she may be worried by now—”
Agreeing with Break, Reim turned his gaze back to the white cat.
The cat was just slipping through the slightly open door, disappearing into the corridor.
Uh-oh!
Reim thought.
If he obediently returned to its mistress, fine, but if he didn’t— Reim hastily got up from the bed, glancing at Break.
“Xerx, I’m off. I have to catch that cat and return it to Ada-sama.”
“At this hour?”
“She may be too worried to sleep, you know.”
Reim crossed briskly to the door, not even taking the time to straighten his rumpled uniform.
When he opened the door and looked out, the white cat was sauntering down the edge of the hall, as if it were out for a stroll. Reim was relieved; it looked as if he’d be able to catch it
quickly. He ducked back into the room once, excused himself to Break—“I’m sorry for all the commotion,”—then started to go out into the corridor.
At that point, as if in farewell, Break spoke.
“Ahh, then, Reim-san. One last thing.”
“What, Xerx?” Reim stopped, thinking he must have something he wanted to say.
“—Do you know this song?”
Song?
Reim looked puzzled.
Reim left. Break was alone in the room.
“I see. No wonder I couldn’t remember it. My head’s really no good…”
He gave a wry, self-deprecating smile.
“…Well. Reim-san’s forgotten his notebook.”
As he was tidying up the room, Break noticed Reim’s well-used notebook, left behind on the bed. No doubt it had slipped out of his breast pocket while he was lying down.
Reim’s notebook was practically a part of Reim’s body, and the employees of Pandora considered it a symbol of his competence at work. Apparently some of the staff even believed that the hidden mysteries of clerical work were recorded in Reim’s notebook.
Although it was silly to deify it, Break thought Reim would probably be in a fix if he didn’t have his notebook.
Just as he was thinking he’d return it to him the next day, there was a knock at the door.
For a moment, he thought Reim had returned, but the
knock didn’t have his conscientious regularity about it. It was a rough, loud knock. After the knock, he heard a rather deep voice through the door: “Heeeey, Xerxes.”
“Oscar-sama?” Break muttered.
He crossed to the door and opened it. Standing behind it was a big man in his prime with splendid whiskers: the head of the House of Vessalius, Oscar Vessalius.
Oscar raised a hand, greeting him with a frank “Hey.” Then he gave a long, long sigh tinged with fatigue. “Haaaaaaaaah…” It was so late at night that the date had changed. According to Oscar, his meetings and interviews had gone on and on, and they’d just now let him go.
“…Well, well. You’ve been working very hard indeed.”
“Ah, never mind that, the work’s over and done with. More importantly… Xerxes.”
Oscar called Break’s name in a stern voice. He fixed him with a sharp, level stare.
Although, as the head of the House of Vessalius, Oscar was in a position of power, his consideration for his subordinates and his friendly personality made him the idol of many. However, as you’d expect from one at the top, his glowers carried enough force to make any ordinary Pandora employee flee in tears.
That said, Oscar’s severe, imposing look didn’t seem to faze Break.
As if repaying him in kind, he stared right back with cold, sharp eyes.
When the head of the House of Vessalius came calling this late at night, it could only mean—
“—Oscar-sama.”
“…Xerxes.”
The air between the two of them sang with tension. It was as if they stood on a completely unpredictable battlefield.
In the midst of an atmosphere in which the first person to move seemed liable to get killed, Break…broke into a fearless smile.
“Want to go?”
He mimed tipping a glass to his lips.
At that, Oscar gave a cry of joy—“Oho!”—and grinned hugely.
He pulled Break into a hug and thumped him on the back.
“
Do
I! Do I ever! I tell ya, things’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t gotten a drink. I can’t take it!”
“I was drinking with Reim-san up until a little while ago,” Break told him, with no hesitation.
“
Whaaat?!
” Oscar cried.
He turned a reproachful glare on Break. “Call me when you do this stuff. That’s not very friendly of you two.” Oscar sulked. When all was said and done, he wasn’t dignified or anything like it. Just a middle-aged guy who liked his liquor.
Break gave a small, wry smile.
“Reim-san wouldn’t be able to relax and drink if the head of one of the four great dukedoms were in our midst, you see.”
Oscar met that explanation with a dissatisfied “Tch!”
“There, there.” Break soothed him, inviting him into the room. Fortunately, there was still plenty of liquor left. Break had already returned the bottles to the wardrobe, and as he took several out again, Oscar put his hands together in front of his chest and danced a little jig.
If he was this happy, Break thought it was probably true that he hadn’t had a drink in a while.
“I bet I’ll be able to shoot the works tonight, Xerxes!”
“You mean ‘tonight,
too.
’ Drinking with you is always an ordeal, isn’t it.”
Although it didn’t happen often, Break had drunk alone with Oscar a few times.
Drinking with Oscar was completely different from drinking with Reim. Summed up in a few words, the difference lay entirely in the phrase Oscar had used: “shoot the works.” There were still about ten bottles of liquor left, but Break wasn’t sure it would be enough.
…AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER.
As expected, it hadn’t been enough. Several emptied liquor bottles lay on the floor. Oscar seemed to have gotten hot; he’d stripped to the waist and pressed Break to do the same.
“I refuse. I won’t strip.”
“What’s this? Do I hear a lack of confidence? Your gut isn’t pooching out, is it?”
Oscar gave a snorting laugh, as if he’d just visualized his own words.
Break sighed.
“What are you talking about? I don’t have any extra flesh on me.”
“Ohhh, I dunno about
that.
Heh. In contrast, take a look at
my
stunning physique!”
Oscar struck a macho pose, flexing the muscles in his upper body. It was overwhelmingly oppressive.
Break looked deflated.
In the midst of this festive atmosphere, Oscar resettled himself heavily in his chair. He picked up a nearly empty bottle of red wine and poured himself a glass. He knocked back a swallow, then took a breath.
“…Say, Xerxes.”
“What is it, Oscar-sama? You’re going too fast, slow down a bit—”
“Look after Oz and Gil, all right? Please.”
“—Oscar-sama,” Break murmured. Oscar’s face was red all the way down his neck, but his eyes held, not only drunkenness, but intense concern for the two he’d just named.
“I’m looking out for them as much as I can, too, but…it doesn’t feel safe to send either of ’em out on their lonesomes yet—”
With an almost empty glass in his hand, Break answered quietly, “Yes, you’re right.”
As he spoke, Oscar’s expression was pained.
“Care about them, watch them… That’s about all I can do, though. It’s pitiful.”
“I think that’s fine. It’s enough.”
Break wasn’t saying it just to console him. He knew Oscar thought of Oz and Gilbert as his own sons, even though they weren’t linked by blood. He also knew the two of them looked up to Oscar like a father.
How reassuring must Oscar’s very existence seem to them?
Break drained his glass with a theatrical gesture, then continued: “…And so.”
“I’d say all you have to do now is give them advice once in a while, as someone who’s seen more of life.”
“……You think?” Oscar looked dubious. His expression could have belonged to a worrywart father who doted on his children.
“Heh-heh.” Break gave a small laugh.
“Yes, adults say it with their backs. Just stand tall and tough!”
He raised his glass, lightly.
“I see,” Oscar muttered, smiling a bit wryly. The two of them clinked their glasses together gently.
Tink.
The clear, small sound echoed through the room.
…THIRTY MINUTES AFTER THAT.
“Oscar-sama. Look, the liquor’s all gone. It’s about time you went home.”
As Break spoke, he cast a mildly appalled look at the empty bottles scattered across the floor. From his left shoulder, Emily jeered, too: “Yeah, listen to the man!” Compared to Oscar, Break had sipped his drinks, but even so, he’d had quite a lot. He was close to his limit.
However, Oscar, who’d drunk twice as much as Break, said, “I know there’s more. Get it out here, c’mon,” and wouldn’t budge.
“I’m telling you there really isn’t, Oscar-sama. Just so you know, I won’t be escorting you home.”
Break’s warning didn’t seem to reach Oscar’s ears. He stalked over to the wardrobe, opened the doors, and began rummaging around inside. Finding the mystery liquor—which Break and Reim had drunk about half of before putting it away—he pulled it out happily.
“Hey, there
was
some. All right, let’s have a toast.”
“None for me, thank you. I wouldn’t drink that if I were you, Oscar-sama.”
As Break checked him, Oscar took a good look at the bottle of liquor, perplexed. Then he said, “Ho-
hoh.
“You’ve got some pretty rare stuff here.”
Apparently Oscar knew what it was.
According to Oscar’s explanation, he’d bought some from a foreign merchant a while back, just once. The thing inside was a lizard found only on a distant southern island, and, according to the sales pitch, the liquor in which it was preserved had restorative properties and promoted perennial youth and long life.
Oscar said he hadn’t felt much effect from it, so he’d only bought it that one time.
Break wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or appalled.
Oscar also explained that the liquor was meant for the elderly, and it wasn’t supposed to be given to young people. On rare occasions, it didn’t agree with their constitutions, and then it caused vomiting and the paralysis of bodily functions.
I knew it
, Break thought, recalling how Reim had reacted.