PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 1 (6 page)

“Don’t remember stuff like that!”

“You looked ready to burst into tears. You were blushing, embarrassed… ‘I cannot even imagine seeing someone with the intent to marry her, but I have no idea how to turn them down without causing them shame…’ You were such an earnest,
good
little boy, Gilbert-kun.”

“Knock. It.
Oooooooooooooff!!
”

Gilbert howled with enough force to wring Break’s head clean off his neck, but Break’s expression was composed.

“I came to you with a serious problem, and you turned it into a game—”

“I did
absolutely nothing
of the sort!” Break said, sounding wounded. “As a matter of fact, when you did as I told you, it went well, didn’t it? I gave you those strategies for your own good, you know.”

“Yeah, right,” Gilbert spat, growling.

How to make the other party give up naturally, without turning them down directly?

At the time, Gilbert hadn’t even managed to fully accept Oz’s disappearance. He’d had no hope of coming up with any decent ways to handle the situation on his own.

Gilbert had gone to Break for advice, and had been given several strategies. Being Gilbert, and young, he’d carried them all out conscientiously. Looking back now, he thought he’d been an idiot, but it was also true that he’d had nothing else to try.

He didn’t want to remember, but he certainly couldn’t forget.

“…You made me pretend I had weird fetishes… Made me two-time so that I was sure to get caught… And you…”

No matter how little he wanted to remember it, the very worst memory rose in his mind.

He couldn’t remember the woman’s face or name anymore,
but he vividly recalled the sound of her angry voice. That voice had hurt his heart as well as his ears.

“What is
this,
Gilbert-sama?!”

“What…? It is a letter…to you…”

“It most certainly is not! This wasn’t written to me! Look!”

“I-I am sorry. Umm.”

“That alone would be unforgivable, but just look at this…this…this
filthy
content!”

“…I-is it really such an odd letter…?”

“Shameless wretch! Here, I’ll read it for you. ‘Ah, Ada-sama, your lovely form sends my poor heart mad.’”

“Whaaaaaaaat?!”

“That’s not all! ‘Ah, lady, like a bud that has yet to blossom… I want to worship you for eternity.’ Y-you’re the lowest of the low!”

“I-I-I-I-I-I did not write that…”

“Pervert!!”

Following Break’s instructions, Gilbert had handed the woman a love letter to Ada and pretended that it had been an accident.

Not only that, but Break had written the depraved missive, and he hadn’t told Gilbert what was in it beforehand.

Several other, similar things had happened, and finally…

As he carried out various schemes, even Gilbert began to have his doubts:

“Um, Break…”

“I hear the ladies are leaving according to plan. I’m so happy for you!”

“Th-that’s true…but, um, I feel…”

“??? What do you feel?”

“At the same time, I feel as if I’m losing something important…”

“Something important?”

“Y-yes. It’s hard to describe…”

“It’s just your imagination. You’re actually well on your way up the stairway to adulthood.
”

“…Am I really?”

“Yes, yes. Now, for the next strategy—”

He’d found himself in some terrible scrapes.

Gilbert thought it was a wonder his reputation in aristocratic society hadn’t been ruined.

“…Huh…? In that case, why am I asking him for help again…?”

As Gilbert muttered, he stared at the wall with an expression of gloom.

It kept him from noticing.

Gazing at Gilbert. Break’s expression sharpened abruptly, and he added, under his breath, “Well, it seems I wasn’t the only one moving in the shadows… Your little brother, for one.”

In the next instant, Break broke into a smile that made him seem truly reliable.

“Well, never you mind. Thanks to that, you got by without having to court anyone. All’s well that ends well.”

“Th-that’s true…but…”

Gilbert grimaced and put up a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose, right between his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to agree willingly.

True, thanks to Break, Gilbert—who wasn’t at all used to dealing with women—had managed to keep himself single without caving to external pressure. Possibly the proposal boom was over—although he still drew notice at social
functions, he hadn’t gotten any actual requests to socialize for the past few years.

Oh. That’s why, when this one came in out of the blue, I automatically went to Break for help—

Privately, he regretted it. He felt as if he’d made a thunderingly bad decision.

Still, at the very least, he’d managed to throw Oz off the scent. He thought he deserved a pat on the back for that.

For better or worse, Break was the only person he could go to for advice in matters like this, and, more than anything, he wanted to keep the fact that he
had
gone to Break for advice a complete secret.

…Particularly from that master of his, who had no qualms about publically declaring that his hobby was valet-baiting.

Gilbert swore a private oath to himself.

I never want Oz to find out about this… Anyone but Oz…!! Even if it kills me!

“And? Who’s the lucky lady
this
time?”

“…Dahlia Garland. Apparently she isn’t from a major house, but her family is distinguished—”

“So he says, Oz-kun. Do you know her?”

“Mmmmm, the name doesn’t ring any bells.”

Oz, who seemed to have popped out of nowhere to stand beside Break, folded his arms and put his head to one side, as though deep in thought.

“I see…” Gilbert nodded. “Well, I’d never heard of her, either.”

“Even if she’s an aristocrat, there are plenty of those around,” said Oz.

“Right. She might have said hello to me at a party once, but I don’t remember everyone who… Hmm?”

“Hmm? What’s wrong, Gil?” Oz said.

“
Oz—?!
”

Gil nearly died of shock.

In response, Oz raised a hand, greeting him with a casual “Hey.” Gilbert’s mouth flapped uselessly; the words wouldn’t come. Oz pouted, sulking a little; it looked contrived. “Why didn’t you tell me? That was cold.”

Gilbert fought to keep his composure, and failed. He was clearly flustered.

“Y-y-y-you… Oz! How long have you been there?!”

“The whole time. I was sitting behind Break, back to back, listening.”

—After he’d parted with Gilbert in the hall, Oz explained, he’d rushed around and gotten ahead of him. “And it worked!
” he said, flashing a V for victory. Too late, Gilbert remembered that Oz would easily go that far to startle him. The thought of his own carelessness dragged him into a depression lower than the ocean floor.

“So Gil’s been popular for a long time?”

“Hasn’t he
just
! Between his family and his looks, he’s prime real estate, you know. On top of that, I think the combination of his cold appearance and those vaguely melancholy eyes tends to tickle feminine hearts. And then, every time someone makes advances, young Gilbert comes crying to
me
…”

“Lucky! That sounds like fun!” Oz said, delivering that heinous remark with a bright smile.

Gilbert felt an overwhelming desire to disappear.

“So, Gil, what’s this Dahlia lady like? Is she pretty?” Oz’s expression was excited.

“…No idea,” Gilbert said, uncooperatively.

“Don’t you at least have a photograph?” Oz asked.

“N-no.” Gilbert shook his head.

“Aaaah, this is it! Here you go.”

Break had a photograph pinched between his fingertips—who knew where he’d pulled it from—and he held it out to Oz.

Taking the photo, Oz exclaimed, “Wow, she’s gorgeous!”

With a start, Gilbert pressed a hand to the breast pocket of his jacket, where he’d been carrying the photograph. “Break, when did you—?!” he yelled. Break just smirked smugly.

Gilbert stretched a hand out toward Oz—“Give it back!”—but Oz dodged gracefully, still examining the photograph.

“Matched brunets,” he muttered, and then, in a very casual tone: “Say, Gil. Are you going to go out with her?”

“…No. Don’t be stupid.”

“Huh. What a waste.”

It was hard to tell how serious Oz was. “Just drop it,” Gilbert mumbled.

This is exactly what’s meant by “The master knows not what his valet’s heart holds,”
he thought. Just as he was beginning to think that, for now, he had to figure out a way to muddy the waters and make his escape, Oz struck his own chest with a thump. With an absolutely brilliant smile, he said, “Well, if that’s how it is, Gil, I understand. Just leave it to me!”

Oz flashed a sharp thumbs-up and continued, ignoring Gilbert, who’d been rendered speechless.

“If his valet is in trouble, it’s a master’s duty to do something about it! Right?”

“My,
my.
The
paragon
of masters, Oz-kun, that’s you. I’ll help,” Brake chimed in, applauding, and the two of them put their heads together right away and began making plans of some sort. Gilbert could only stand there, aghast. This was going in the worst possible direction.

As he spoke with Break, Oz looked happy through and through. That gave Gilbert an awful feeling, too.

If this keeps up, it’s going to be a disaster.

…And so.

On reflex, Gilbert roared, “I-I-I’ll handle this one myself! I’m not who I used to be!”

At those words, Oz and Break both broke into warm smiles.

As you’d expect, their expressions said:

Now
things are getting interesting!

When, concerned about the time, Dahlia had left her mansion, she’d made her way to a dressmaker’s shop on a narrow lane one block down from Reveil’s high street.

The boutique Night Butterfly.

As the shop’s name suggested, the show window was hung with evening dresses meant to be worn at soirees. The designs were showy and provocative: Most of the gowns had plunging necklines and gaping backs, and all were the sort that would attract men’s eyes. They might easily have been made for just that purpose.

Echo, who was lurking on the roof of the antique store opposite the boutique and had watched Dahlia enter the shop, glanced at the dresses and gave her murmured impression:

“…Gaudy.”

Her voice held no emotion, but she meant the words from the bottom of her heart.

…Really, though—

Echo was a bit puzzled. The array of dresses in the shop seemed to clash terribly with Dahlia’s quiet demeanor.

“Or,” she muttered, “could it be…? Are women like her the type who are most likely to cut loose at night…?”

She didn’t know. Echo couldn’t begin to understand what was supposed to be fun about wearing an audacious dress and attracting male glances in the first place.
But
, she thought,
maybe Echo thinks that way because Echo is only a tool, and ordinarily, women take pleasure in attracting attention from men.

Hmm…

Echo folded her arms and tried to imagine it: Herself, at a soiree, dressed in a sophisticated gown that practically reeked of pheromones. An endless stream of gentlemen called to her, and she met them coldly, managed them, appraised them.

Only one fortunate gentleman would make it through this strict selection and win the right to be her partner.

For example:

“Hello, Eko-chan. You’re particularly enchanting this evening.”

“—!!”

Startled by Oz’s surprise appearance at her imaginary soiree, Echo choked and lost her balance.

She nearly toppled right off the roof, but at the last minute, she somehow managed to catch herself. She’d made quite a clatter, and she wondered uneasily whether they’d heard her inside the antique store. When, however, she’d waited a little while and no one had come out, she gave a small sigh of relief.

At the same time, she began to feel irritated.