PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 1 (18 page)
Eight months and twenty-two days.
That was the amount of time Reim Lunettes had worked without a holiday. Reim—who handled paperwork at Pandora and also served Rufus Barma, the head of the House of Barma and one of the four great dukes—performed a staggering amount of work every day.
Reim had an established reputation for doing quick, dependable work. In particular, the reports he drafted were renowned for their accuracy and the beautiful perfection of their text.
That said, as far as Reim was concerned, it was only natural for reports to be accurate and watertight. He didn’t think it was anything special enough to warrant praise.
In those eight months and twenty-two days, Reim had not gone a single day without drafting a report.
He’d drafted, and drafted, and kept right on drafting.
…And now. Today.
Finally, after eight months and twenty-two days, Reim had gotten a day off. It was his first in a very long time. A whole day of freedom.
If he were to come right out and say it, it also meant:
Today, I don’t have to write a single report!
Yes. It had meant that. …But.
“…………”
Reim stepped into the entry hall of the main Barma residence. He was wearing his Pandora uniform.
The servant who came to meet him looked mystified. Many people knew that today was Reim’s day off, and yet here he was, in uniform. “Is something the matter?” the servant asked. His expression was puzzled.
“I’ve been summoned by Rufus-sama.”
Through the lenses of his glasses, Reim turned a gaze that didn’t betray a shred of dissatisfaction on the servant.
“The master…?”
“Apparently he has a job that he wants me to handle personally.”
At Reim’s words, the servant’s expression shifted into one of pity. He was probably sympathizing with him—
Just when you’d finally gotten a day off…
—but as far as Reim was concerned, it wasn’t necessary. If there was a job that needed to be done, he’d long been prepared to forgo as many vacation days as it took.
The fact that he’d been summoned personally meant it was a job only he could do.
If they had need of his strength, he would meet that need.
To Reim, this was only natural, and he felt it was well worth doing.
“Is Rufus-sama in his study?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“All right. Thanks,” Reim said politely.
He started toward the great staircase that stretched from the entry hall to the upper floors.
As he climbed the stairs, the itinerary for his day off, which he’d been planning in detail for the past week, flickered through his mind, but he banished it almost immediately. Reading, going shopping… Now that he thought about it, the plan hadn’t been anything special.
If anything, he thought, it was more like him to spend his vacation day working than lazing around.
At that image of himself, Reim gave a small, wry smile.
If I told Xerx about this, he’d probably make fun of me.
His friend’s face rose in his mind. Xerx was also a member of Pandora, but it was always hard to tell whether he was doing his job or just messing around.
Finally, Reim reached the top of the stairs, walked down a long hall, and arrived at the door to Rufus’s study.
He knocked.
“Rufus-sama, it’s Reim Lunettes.”
From beyond the door, a voice told him to come in. As he set a hand on the brass knob, in a corner of his mind, Reim murmured,
…Well. At least—
He opened the door, quietly.
—if I can get through the whole day without drafting a report, that will be enough for me. As long as this isn’t Pandora business, it shouldn’t be necessary.
He entered the study, bowed, and faced his master.
…And then, Rufus hit Reim with a startling declaration:
“Should naught change, I must die. Victim of a malicious curse…”
Huh?
Inwardly, Reim was perplexed.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Report 2 (rough draft) Month
/Day × Author: Reim Lunettes
Apparently, Rufus-sama is going to die. Due to a curse.
The author (hereinafter “I/me”) heard the main points directly from Rufus-sama, the head of the House of Barma, in his private rooms.
If true, this will have drastic repercussions, not only for the House of Barma but for aristocratic society as a whole. The matter calls for a rapid response and development of countermeasures, and I am convinced that the advanced administrative abilities I display under ordinary conditions are the reason Rufus-sama has chosen to place me in charge.
The fact that today was my first day off in approximately nine months is trivial. Compared to having been entrusted with Rufus-sama’s confidence, the fact that my plans for the day—which I had spent a week meticulously designing, ever since my first day off in a long while was confirmed—have come to nothing is of no significance.
Having been placed in charge of the matter, my first act was to immediately hear the story from Rufus-sama. Below, I present that information in an interview format.
Q.
What sort of curse is it?
A.
The name appears to be “the curse of Mahani,” but I know not the details. However, those who are cursed most assuredly die within a few days. I must not die yet. Do what thou must to discern a way to break the curse.
Q.
How did you discover that you’d been cursed?
A.
(Taking out a vase with a broken neck) This was made in a far-distant land and bestowed on me as a gift. At the time, I was told that this vase was created for use as a ritual implement in a sinister ceremony known as “Mahani,” and that it curses to death anyone who treats it carelessly, breaks, or damages it. Should naught change, I must die. Do something, posthaste.
Q.
Why did you accept something so dangerous? What sort of person gave a thing like that as a gift? Wasn’t the respondent at all suspicious of someone like that? If you weren’t, then you were far too carele— I beg your pardon, sir.
A.
What manner of fool would refuse a gift! It came from a clearly suspicious itinerant peddler. In truth, that was what attracted me and made me bid him enter.
Q.
…Be a bit more careful, please. All right: Where is the peddler?
A.
I am searching, but have so far failed to discern his whereabouts. …Should my life end here, who will push Sheryl’s wheelchair…?! Nay, I will not stand for it… I refuse to let another man touch those handles…
*Note 1: The wheelchair: I wish you’d think about the magnitude of the effect your fate will have on the organization.
Q.
I am a servant. If ordered to investigate, I have no reason to refuse.
A.
Naturally.
Q.
However, you are the current head of the House of Barma, the most prominent of the four great dukedoms with regard to information and intelligence—
A.
You needn’t praise me on that account. I know it full well.
Q.
(clears throat) If this is something that you, the head of the House of Barma, does not know, it isn’t very likely that I’ll turn up results by groping around blindly. Isn’t there anything that could provide a clue regarding a way to break the curse? If there is, please tell me.
A.
There is.
Q.
Such as?
A.
One is the very name “Mahani.”
Q.
…Anything else?
A.
Pink.
Q.
By “pink,” do you mean the color?
A.
—A very good question.
At this point, the respondent began urging the interviewer to begin his investigation, and the interview ended.
* Note 2: The respondent requested that this matter be investigated in secret. He is probably concerned about the possibility of spreading confusion among the members of the House of Barma and the organization. The interviewer agreed to this request and informed the respondent that he would conduct the investigation on his own.
*Note 3: While unnecessary, the author’s personal opinion regarding this matter follows.
Ordinarily, even if he were cursed, Rufus-sama is the type who would use his encyclopedic knowledge of the occult to dispel the curse, and would enjoy doing so. Although it does not apply in this case, if the source of the curse happened to be a person, he would no doubt gleefully curse them back with enough force to make them regret ever having cursed him.
This curse has even Rufus-sama terrified. I will have to go about this very carefully.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
In the library, the pride of the House of Barma, home to a collection of books that rivaled the national library:
“I…have absolutely no idea!”
Reim’s voice was tinged with fatigue. As he spoke, he tossed the dictionary of the occult he’d been looking through onto the reading table with a heavy
whump
. A mountain of thick tomes was already piled at the seat where Reim had set up camp.
He’d read so many difficult books in one sitting that he’d given himself a dull headache.
“Haaaaaah…” Reim heaved a long sigh. “‘The curse of Mahani,’ huh?”
Muttering wearily, Reim glanced at the towers of documents that surrounded him. He considered taking a break, then thought better of it and picked up a volume he hadn’t opened yet.
Rufus-sama seemed…
“I must not die yet. Do what thou must to discern a way to break the curse.
“Should naught change, I must die. Do something, posthaste.”
Although he’d spoken the way he always did, his tone had held faint but definite traces of impatience, unease, and fear.
…It wasn’t like him. Those emotions were very unlike the Rufus Reim knew.
However, the weight of being made to confront one’s own death might be that great. It was something Reim hadn’t personally experienced yet. He couldn’t imagine what being forced to face his own death would do to him. Would he be afraid, and panic, and fall to pieces? He hoped he wouldn’t, but…
But even Rufus-sama…
Up until now, he’d assumed his master’s only weakness was Sheryl, the head of the House of Rainsworth. He hadn’t thought anyone or anything else could frighten Rufus—as far as Reim’s mental image of him was concerned, not even his own death.
Rufus-sama is human, too
, Reim thought.
It isn’t odd for him to have a fragile side.
The pressure of the need to save him weighed heavily on his back. Reim trusted his master. He trusted his knowledge and deep insight, and his resourcefulness. Rufus-sama had said the name of the curse itself—“the curse of Mahani”—was a clue.
“Mahani.”
M A H A N I
Reim mentally visualized the spelling. It was an odd word; he’d never seen or heard it before.
This investigation was like trying to grasp a cloud.
Just then:
“Reim. How dost thou fare?”
Reim had removed his glasses and was massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers in an attempt to ease his aching eyes, when Rufus abruptly made an appearance.
He was holding his opened fan so that it hid the lower half of his face, and was watching Reim with keen interest.
Reim was caught off guard. Taken aback, he started with enough force that his chair clattered. Hastily, he put his glasses back on.
“Rufus-sama…”
“Hast thou discovered aught? Hmm?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
Reim felt embarrassed. Rufus’s expression seemed somehow mischievous, and Reim frowned, perplexed.
“Have you recovered already?”
Even now, while he was being cursed to death…
At that, Rufus’s expression turned contemptuous.
“Canst thou not tell I am feigning courage, half-wit? This is why thou hast never yet bested thine elder brother.”
“I-I’m very sorry, sir,” Reim apologized, ashamed.
Rufus cast a glance at the scores of books surrounding Reim and gave a small sigh.
He closed his fan, using its tip to tap the cover of one of the volumes, and spoke. “If thou canst glean naught from these, why not take thyself to Pandora?”
“To Pandora?”
“Mm. While not the equal of Barma’s, Pandora’s library is quite good. There are many nobles there besides. If thou shouldst interview them, thou might chance upon information from some unexpected quarter. Aye, those of the four great dukedoms may possess rare information.”
I see
, Reim thought.
He’d thought, if he were unable to uncover anything by investigating at Barma, there’d be nothing left for him to try. However, while there was no telling how much he could expect from Pandora’s library, the dignitaries of the four families might know something. Reim thanked Rufus and rose from his chair.