PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 1 (21 page)

When Reim left Gilbert and stepped into the third-floor office, there was Sharon.

Sharon was seated at the desk, her pen skimming over a document of some sort. He’d caught her at work.

She returned the pen to its stand and looked up at Reim.

“Reim-san? Did you need me for something?”

“Well, yes, but it isn’t all that important. If this is a bad time, I’ll come back later.”

“It doesn’t matter. I was just thinking it would be nice to take a break.”

Sharon smiled. From her expression, it was clear that she wasn’t just being polite.

“Shall I order tea?” she asked, reaching for the bell on the desk.

“Please don’t bother,” Reim said, refusing politely, but with an impish smile, Sharon said
she
wanted some, and rang the bell. Almost immediately, a servant appeared with a tea set.

As Sharon offered tea to Reim, elegantly sipping from her own teacup, she motioned for him to begin.

“…And? What is it?”

That completes the interviews. I find myself right back where I started…

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I find myself right back where I started…”

As he wrote the last line of the report, Reim sighed. He was in an office at the Barma mansion.

He gazed at Report 2, which he’d just finished drafting.

He still hadn’t uncovered a way to break the curse.

“Should naught change, I must die,”
Rufus had said. If Reim didn’t find a way to break the curse, and Rufus, his master, died…

If the House of Barma lost its head, there would be an uproar—or, more likely, something far, far more serious.

“MAHANI” appeared several times in the report. Reim stared at the spelling.

There is meaning in the very word “Mahani.”

Both Rufus and Sharon had said that.

In other words, he had to look for the meaning hidden in the word itself. That said, it wasn’t a word Reim knew, and he hadn’t seen it in any of the documents he’d searched. There was nothing more to be done. Reim leaned far back, slumping down in his chair, and looked out the window.

The full moon looked particularly large tonight. A shaft of clear moonlight shone through the windowpane.

It’s very bright…

Thinking he might be able to read even without a light, Reim blew out the lamp that sat on the desk. The room, which had been lit by warm lamplight, was abruptly dyed in pale moonlight. Report in hand, Reim went over to the window.

“Yes, I can read.”

In the moonlight, he was able to make out the rows of fine letters in the report without straining.

“To a moonlit night like this—” He spoke the words without thinking.

They were Rufus’s words, the ones that had drifted into Reim’s mind on the staircase landing a short while ago.

Words from a conversation he’d once had with Rufus.

Yes… It had been night, a night like this one, lit by a bright full moon. Rufus had said:

“Even though a
would be most suited to a moonlit night like this…”

He’d responded to his master’s words with,
“Yes, you’re right.”
If he recalled correctly.

…Why did I remember something like that at a time like this?

Reim didn’t understand his own thoughts.

In an attempt to put everything else out of his mind, he reviewed the information he’d collected in the report. He saw one particular word over and over: MAHANI. As he examined the spelling closely, the letters separated from each other, scattering in Reim’s mind and beginning to move on their own.

The word lost all meaning, becoming no more than a group of letters.

And then —

He was struck by an abrupt revelation. Reim shouted, involuntarily, “It’s an anagram!!”

Clear moonlight streamed down from the bright full moon in the sky.

Under that moonlight stood a single great tree. It was covered with small, pale-pink flowers, their petals fully unfurled.

An expanse of open lawn spread across a secluded corner of the House of Barma’s private land.

In a way, there was something lonely about the sight of the tree standing there, all by itself. However, curiously, it didn’t feel as if anything else was needed. Such was the presence of the tree and its cloud of blossoms.

At the base of the tree, several people had gathered.

Rufus, Oz, Ada, Gilbert, Sharon, Break—and Reim.

Everyone except for Reim was seated on a thin carpet that had been unrolled on the grass. In the center of the circle were plates of hors d’oeuvres and several bottles of liquor made from Rufus’s prized rice, along with many small plates, forks, and other utensils.

It looked exactly like a nocturnal picnic.

A short while earlier…

“In a distant foreign land, I am told, there is a custom known as ‘
hanami.
’”

Rufus had told Reim a story he’d heard from a merchant who’d sold him an unusual liquor made from rice.

“’Tis a banquet whereat guests admire flowers, savor spirits, sing songs, and display their talents.”

“Like a kind of garden party?”

Reim fished a word he was familiar with out of his memory. Rufus told him it was similar, but that there were several differences.

One of the differences Rufus had been most taken with was that
hanami
were sometimes held by moonlight. Guests enjoyed the banquet and admired the flowers with the moon as their only light, using no lamps or candlesticks.

That certainly was unlike the garden parties Reim knew.

The moon had been bright and full on the night when they’d had that conversation.

However, it had already been too late to invite guests, and in the end, no
hanami
was held that night.

“Even though a
hanami
would be most suited to a moonlit night like this…”

“You’re right.”

Rufus had sounded vexed, and Reim had agreed with him.

Honestly…

Reim sat alone, leaning against the trunk of the great tree, a little apart from the circle of guests enjoying the banquet.

If he wanted to hold a
hanami,
he could have just said so…

How roundabout. What a nuisance. Those were Reim’s honest feelings.

“MAHANI,” shuffled a bit, became “HANAMI.”

When he’d caught on and solved the childish little anagram, Reim visited Rufus’s study and gave the answer. At that, Rufus looked out the study window, confirmed that the moon had risen in the night sky, and spoke, sounding satisfied:

“Hm. Laudable timing. If thou hadst not seen through this paltry word game, I would have released thee from service for eternity, not merely today. Go on, make ready, quickly.”

…Just as if he’d known Reim would visit at that hour all along.

Rufus said that everything they’d need was already in place.

He also said:

“The invitations were issued yestereve. I said the purpose was to gladden my servant Reim’s first holiday in a long time, and mayhap it proved effective, for many expressed their intention to attend…although the most important guest declined, and it has badly damaged my humor…”

“……
Invitations?”
Reim muttered, dazed. He hadn’t even
heard the last half of what Rufus had said. In response, Rufus gave several names: Oz, Sharon, and Break. On the invitations, he had also written that parties were better when lively, and requested that they bring their friends and acquaintances.

On top of that, the summons wasn’t the only thing that had been written on the invitations.

“Haaah…”

Heaving a sigh that was tinged with fatigue, Reim looked up at the great tree he was leaning against.

In the darkness, the tiny, delicate, pale-pink flowers were vivid as they swayed in the night breeze, picked out by moonlight.

When he sniffed, audibly, he caught their faint, elegant fragrance.

“—A cherry tree. The Somei-Yoshino variety, or so I hear.”

Someone spoke, unexpectedly, right next to him. When Reim turned to look, there was Break, kneeling with a bottle of liquor in one hand, two small cups in the other, and a smile on his face.

“Here,” he said. He handed one of the cups to Reim and filled it from the bottle.

Reim had been told that the liquor was made from rice, and a unique, sweet scent did indeed tickle his nostrils. However, the cup was very small, and it could only hold a mouthful of the stuff.

Reim drained his cup in one go. “Not very cultured, are you?” Break smiled wryly, sipping at his own cup. “This is drunk like so—small sips, almost as if you were licking it.”