PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 1 (4 page)

It’s like a golden sea
, he thought.

A wide, vast field of wheat seemed to spread all the way over the horizon. When he drew a deep breath, it smelled like the sun. The ears of grain, swaying in the wind, really did look like the surface of the ocean.

The field was tended by one of the farming families the Vessalius dukedom retained. The year Oz turned twelve, Uncle Oscar took Oz, his little sister Ada, and Gilbert to visit during the harvest season. It was a short day trip, and it had been Uncle Oscar’s idea.

Uncle Oscar had business to discuss with the farmers, so he told the children to go play for a while.

Immediately after saying good-bye to his uncle, Oz dove into the ocean of wheat with Ada and Gilbert.

There wasn’t a cloud in the clear blue sky.

The early afternoon sunlight had just begun to deepen.

“This is a marvelous wheat field, young master.”

Gilbert was carrying a basket packed with the sandwiches and dessert they’d have for lunch.

Oz puffed out his chest as though the wheat field were all his doing.

“I know, right?! That’s because it’s
our
farmers’ field, and they’re amazing.”

The three of them stood side by side, gazing at the sea of gold in fascination.

Abruptly, Oz cracked a mischievous smile.

“Hey, Gil.”

“Yes?”

“There’s a bug on you.”

“There is? Where?”

“Right there. See? Here in front, on your hair. I’ll get it for you, just hold still.”

He put out his index finger, bringing his hand close to Gilbert’s face.

As the finger approached the long bangs that hung over his eyes, Gilbert looked uneasy; he squeezed his eyes shut. On seeing this, Oz’s mischievous smile widened.

He shot a glance at Ada. Ada tilted her head, curiously, as if to ask what was going on.

“I-is it gone yet, young master? Please hurry…”

“No, wait, wait. Hrrrrn, it’s bigger than I thought it was.”

“What?!”

“Don’t move. One…two…three—”

?!

Oz’s fingers changed course and pinched Gilbert’s well-shaped nose.

Gilbert’s shocked expression and boggled eyes struck Oz as funny, and he laughed out loud. He let go right away. He waved a hand at Gilbert, who was looking at him a bit reproachfully,
caught Ada’s hand and ran, making his escape. Gilbert ran after them, calling
“Please wait!”
in a distressed voice.

Oz ran. He ran as if he was making for the wheat field’s golden horizon.

Ada had looked startled at first, but she soon tightened her grip on his hand and smiled up at him.

She was giggling as she ran. Oz felt satisfaction well up inside him.

“Having fun?”

“Uh-huh! Lots of fun, Onii-chan!”

“You are, huh? Me, too!”

They panted as they spoke.

He was glad they’d come. He was deeply grateful to Uncle Oscar for having suggested the trip to his father.

As he ran, grinning ecstatically, Oz looked back.

“Too slow, Gil! We’re going to leave you behind!”

“…P-please wait! Young master! Lady Adaaa!”

Oz stopped. He and Ada stood there, looking at each other, catching their breath. Finally, Gilbert caught up with them, panting and gasping. As he did so, Oz was about to take off running again when he hesitated. Just then, a great gust of wind blew through. The huge, strong wind bent the wheat low as it passed, and he heard the stalks rustling against each other.
Fwiiiiiiiiiish…

…!

Oz stood transfixed. The force of the wind made him close his eyes involuntarily.

Then, slowly, he opened them.

Tossed up into the air by the wind, the chaff sparkled in the sunlight.

Sparkling and fluttering.

Sparkling and fluttering.

It fell from a clear blue sky. Almost like…

“It’s golden snow…”
Oz murmured.

He caught his breath. The sight kept his eyes—no, his whole heart—riveted.

Gilbert and Ada stared, too. They stood there, wordlessly.

Once, long ago, Oz saw snow that shone like gold.

Distant, faint, nostalgic—

| 17:00 |

…Hmm? Huh…?

When he came to, groggily, Oz was rocking gently. The evening sky was flushed with vermillion.

Oz’s mind was drifting, still half in that sea of gold.

—It smells like sunlight
, he thought.

His mind was gradually returning to the present. He started to register the scenery around him. His sense of time was still fuzzy.

Where am I?
he thought, vaguely.
When is this?

Never mind that, what’s happening to me?

Right in front of him was the back of Gilbert’s curly black head. He could feel his body heat through his clothes, and the solidity of Gilbert’s back. Gilbert was walking. Oz’s legs weren’t moving. They dangled in midair. Even so, he was traveling forward.

“Are you awake, Oz?”

At Gilbert’s voice, which sounded a bit out of sorts, Oz woke up with a jolt.

He was being carried. Piggyback. By Gilbert.

—Hold it
, he thought.
How did this happen?
He had absolutely no idea.

“Gil, what’re you doing?!”

“What am I doing? Heading back to the mansion.”

“Not
that
! Why are you carrying me?!”

“Don’t you remember? You fell out of the tree.”

“Huh……?”

Gilbert’s words triggered a memory.

He’d climbed up the tree to catch the last mini-Alice. Just when he’d almost had her, all the strength had drained from his body and he’d fallen. He’d held the mini-Alice to his chest, and had been prepared to hit his head on the ground. That was all he could remember.

That’s weird
, Oz thought. For having smashed into the ground, he didn’t feel—

When he got that far, he remembered the voice he’d heard, right before he passed out.
Oz!

It had been Gilbert’s voice. Even though Gilbert was supposed to be unconscious in Oz’s room.

…He’d caught Oz.

If he’d been one step slower, Gilbert now said, he wouldn’t have made it in time. Oz had no way to respond to that. When Gilbert next spoke, there was a note of pleading in his voice.

“Don’t push yourself. Please.”

“—”

I should probably say something to Gilbert
, Oz thought.
Apologize, or thank him.

Still, the words wouldn’t come out. All sorts of feelings tangled together in his chest, sealing his mouth shut.

Gilbert was quiet for a little while, too. Then:

“I’m glad I made it in time.”

He sounded immensely relieved. “—I’m sorry,” Oz apologized, in a very, very small voice.

But immediately afterward, he yelled, “Aah!”

He’d shouted right in Gilbert’s ear, and Gilbert winced, but Oz paid no attention. “Where’s the last mini-Alice?” he asked.

“Gone,” Gilbert said, briefly.

On reflex, Oz grabbed Gilbert’s hair roughly.

“You erased her?! You forced—”

“No, that came out wrong. She ran off. I don’t know where she went.”

“Oh—” Oz was relieved.

Gilbert was carrying him down a path on Pandora grounds. It was the way back to the building.

Oz still needed to look for the mini-Alice, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to stop by his room first. Most of the mini-Alices had been turned back into strength, and had probably returned to Alice’s body.

If Alice is at least a little bit better
, he thought—

“Wait, that’s not the problem here! Let me down, Gil!”

Oz began to struggle again, and Gilbert scolded him. “That’s dangerous!”

“I told you, I’m fine! Put me down! What’re you piggybacking me for?!”

“Not happening. I’m taking you back this way. All the way to your room.”

“No! You!
Aren’t!
I can walk by myself!”

Oz flailed at the back of Gilbert’s head, halfheartedly, not putting any strength behind the blows.

Gilbert only answered, “You can’t. You were pushing yourself. I know you’re already at your limit.”

Although he didn’t raise his voice, it held a determined strength.

It was a moody voice, and it was clear that Gilbert had no intention of giving an inch.

Oz involuntarily swallowed his words. Gilbert continued, his tone angry.

“Why didn’t you mention that you’re sick, too?”

Oz closed his mouth. There was nothing he could say to that. After bumping along on Gil’s back for a short while in silence, he muttered:

“You noticed.”

“…Of course I did,” Gilbert answered.

Back in Oz’s room, when he was nursing Alice. When Oz had dipped up a spoonful of oatmeal and held it out to Alice, and Gilbert had caught his wrist. The difference had been subtle, but his temperature had been high. It wasn’t something anyone else would have paid attention to if they’d caught his wrist that way. Besides:

“The worse you feel, the more enthusiastic you get… You’re a real piece of work.”

Come to think of it, his eagerness to take care of Alice had been a sign, too.

“Well, I…” Oz hesitated, uncomfortably. “Alice’s cold is…my fault.”

His fault— Oz’s instincts told him that was so, and he was sure it was true.

Oz had gotten sick late the previous evening. There was a book he’d wanted to read, so he’d stayed up late, and he’d been so engrossed in the book that he’d forgotten he’d left the window open. When he’d noticed he was chilled through, he’d hastily clambered into bed. …But.

At daybreak, he’d started to feel the symptoms of a mild cold. He’d thought he could shake them by sleeping in for a while.

When he found out that Alice had also caught a cold, he’d understood immediately.

Ordinarily, Chains didn’t catch cold.

Alice had probably come down with cold symptoms because she was linked to him… Her contractor. Oz didn’t
know if the same thing happened to other contractors and their Chains, but even so.

“…I see. So you decided to take responsibility and take care of her… Dummy.”

As he spoke, Gilbert’s voice held a hint of laughter. Oz sulked, puffing out his cheeks and turning his face away.

“Golden snow…”

At Gilbert’s abrupt murmur, Oz’s breath caught. Gilbert continued.

“A long time ago, when we went to that wheat field. You hid the fact that you had a cold and ran around playing, and in the end, you collapsed.”

“……Yeah…”

Going to the wheat field. Playing with Ada and Gilbert. Seeing that golden snow.

It was a fun memory, a nostalgic memory, but that wasn’t all. It was painful, too.

Father’s always hated me—

Even now, he didn’t know the reason. …His father, Xai Vessalius, had seen him as something detestable from the time he was small, and Oz hadn’t even been allowed to go out casually.

Personally, Oz was used to being treated that way. All he’d had to do was force down his own feelings so that he’d be able to accept whatever happened.

However, Ada was still little, and it hurt him that she had to feel cooped up as well. As her older brother, he felt he really should have been able to take her by the hand and show her all sorts of different places.

It was likely that Uncle Oscar hadn’t been able to stand seeing the two of them like that, and that was why he’d made the suggestion to their father.

A few times each year, the House of Vessalius inspected the farms on its land. Oscar had told Oz’s father that he wanted to
take Oz and Ada along that year, and to bring Gilbert as their servant.

He couldn’t imagine that his father had given his consent readily, but Oscar hadn’t told him how he’d gotten him to agree, so Oz never did find out what had happened.

They wouldn’t be spending the night. It was just a simple day trip.

Ada had never gone far from the mansion before, and she seemed absolutely thrilled. This had made Oz happy as well, and he’d accepted the invitation.

That day had been just like today. He’d felt a little sick in the morning, but he hadn’t told anyone. —He’d hidden it.

If he backed out of the excursion, he knew his kindhearted little sister would probably stay home as well.

He hadn’t wanted to make her do that.

And so, both before Oz arrived at the wheat field and after, he’d acted as cheerful and merry as ever—no, even more so. He’d teased Gilbert. He’d held hands with Ada and run through the wheat field with her. He’d thought that as long as Ada was smiling and having fun, nothing else mattered.

And, when night fell, Oz had collapsed. —Out in the wheat field.

Back then, Gilbert hadn’t noticed that Oz wasn’t feeling well until he fell down, and he hadn’t been big enough to carry Oz after he collapsed. From what Oz had heard, all he’d been able to do was panic and run calling for Uncle Oscar.

He’d been a kid then. Just like Oz.

And yet now—

He’d noticed the change in Oz, had come running just in the nick of time, had caught him and carried him.

On top of that, he’d even scolded Oz, telling him not to be reckless.

What gives…?

A complicated emotion was welling up inside him.

“—I was dreaming,” Oz muttered. “I dreamed about that.”

All Gilbert said was, “You did, hmm?”

Oz rested his forehead on Gilbert’s shoulder, as if he was tired. He was hiding his face, even though Gilbert wouldn’t have been able to see it anyway.

What gives…?

The same words surfaced in his mind. Thinking even to himself that he sounded like a spoiled little kid, Oz thought, chagrined:

How could he go and get this big without me…? That burns me up…

In the evening light, Gilbert’s back smelled a little like the sun.

| 17:30 |

In the end, Gilbert carried Oz all the way back to his room.

When they got there, Alice was curled up in the down comforter, asleep. She might have been feeling a bit better, or possibly not; it was hard to say. Her color seemed slightly better, but her strength hadn’t completely returned yet.

“…I’ve got to go look for that last Alice.”

“No, you—”

Rest
, Gilbert was about to say, but just then, a tiny shadow appeared on the bed.

It was the mini-Alice.

Her vague air of embarrassment, the way she fidgeted nervously, and her very un-Aliceness convinced Oz and Gilbert that she was that last mini-Alice. They were speechless; they hadn’t expected her to turn up on her own.

The last mini-Alice gazed at Oz steadily. Then she ducked her head in a bow.

“Thank you for protecting me.”

Back when he was falling out of the tree.
At the very least, I have to protect her
, he’d thought, and he’d desperately hugged her to his chest.

“You were very kind to me, and it made me happy, so… I’m going back to ‘me.’”

“Alice—”

“They’re all back inside ‘me.’ Once I go back, ‘I’ll’ feel better.”

The mini-Alice gave a soft, fragile smile. Neither Oz nor Gilbert had seen a smile like that on Alice’s face before. Still, somehow, there was something about the smile that made it seem Alice-like.

The mini-Alice looked into Alice’s sleeping face. “I’m home,” she told her. Then, soundlessly, her body dissolved into sparks of light, and the sparks melted into Alice’s body.

As if the return of the last fragment of strength had flipped a switch, Alice slowly opened her eyes. Then she sat up.

Still seeming a bit dazed, Alice gazed at Oz.

“It sounds like you took care of ‘me,’” she murmured.

“Never mind tha—”

“While I was sleeping… I saw golden snow.”

“Huh?”

At Alice’s words, Oz’s breath caught.

“That was your memory, wasn’t it?”

Oz couldn’t answer right away.

Alice had caught his cold because they were linked…because he was contracted to her. The idea had given him nothing but guilt. He’d felt that he needed to apologize to her. He’d been sure that when he told Alice the truth, she’d be mad, too.

But Alice said:

“I got to see something pretty. All because I’m linked to you.”

She sounded shy…

And happy.

On hearing those words and seeing Alice’s expression, an emotion Oz couldn’t articulate welled up inside him.

Delight, relief, sympathy—it was a mixture of all of those, and he felt as if he’d tear up if he carelessly put it into words. …So Oz smiled cheerfully.

“Alice, you’re better already?”

“Of course. As a matter of fact, I’ve powered up. …And actually…!”

As if she’d just now realized that Oz was riding on Gilbert’s back, Alice’s eyes went wide. She leaped out of bed.

“What are you doing way up there?! That looks like fun!”

Alice ran over, pointing at Oz, her voice excited. She stopped right in front of Gilbert, held both arms up, and started hopping up and down. “Oz, switch with me! It’s my turn!” she demanded—pestered—begged impatiently.

For Oz’s part, even though up until this very moment he hadn’t been at all happy about being carried, he said, “What? Hmm, I dunno… This is pretty comfortable…”

At Alice’s reaction he put on a mischievous, weighty, worried expression. “That’s not fair, Oz!” Alice said, stamping her feet. “No fair, no fair!” she repeated.

“Mmm-hmm, what should I do…?” Oz said evasively.

Finally, caught in the middle, Gilbert said in a worn-out voice, “Knock it off, you two.”

Even as he said it, he sighed.

After that, of course, Oz gladly traded with Alice and climbed into bed himself.

As for Gilbert, he was forced to carry Alice around on his back and take care of Oz until late that night.

~
Fin
~