GosickS
Chapter 5: Farewell, Fiend
On the campus of St. Marguerite Academy, the lush green lawns and gorgeous flowerbeds glowed vividly under the sky. The summer sun shone on the water cascading from the crystal fountain and on the pathways paved with white stones.
In the middle of the colorful flowerbeds, near the relaxing stream, Ms. Cecile was mumbling to herself.
“I-I wasn’t expecting that. Don’t take Kujou away from me? He’s a nice boy, I suppose. Well-mannered, kind-hearted, and somewhat amusing. But…”
The sun was slowly going down. In the distance, Inspector Blois, his golden drill-shaped hair fixed properly this time, was walking along the pathway, with his subordinates—holding hands, as usual—following him. Victorique was already gone. Avril, disheartened, was tottering toward the school building.
Ms. Cecile stood up. She wore no glasses as she had left them in the clock tower earlier. Her drooping brown eyes looked larger and more moist than usual. A gust almost knocked her into the flowerbed, but she managed to stay on her feet. She sighed in relief.
Suddenly she clapped her hands, and her face lit up.
“Let’s get this straight,” she said.
She crouched down, picked up a twig, and scratched a diagram on the ground. At the corners of a triangle, she wrote V, K, and A.
“First, Avril actually likes Kujou. Since when did she start liking him? When she first transferred, I think she was chasing around Kujou because she liked the supernatural, and he was a mysterious oriental called the Reaper. When did that turn into love? I didn’t notice at all. Well, let’s leave that aside for now. What about Kujou? I have no idea. He looks earnest… Oh, I think he mentioned he liked blondes! Or wait, I think he said his favorite color was gold. Oh well, whatever. Anyway, that means… Wait, Avril and Victorique both have blonde hair. Now what?”
Ms. Cecile cocked her head. She added arrows.
“Whatever. Let’s say Kujou likes Victorique. I have a feeling that’s the case. Besides, that would be more interesting. Then what about Victorique?”
“What are you doing?” came a familiar male voice from behind.
Ms. Cecile let out a shriek, sprang to her feet, and erased the diagram she had drawn on the ground with the heel of her shoe.
“Huh? Oh, Kujou…” She turned around and saw Kazuya, holding her glasses, staring at her with a dumbfounded look. She wiped away the cold sweat. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
“Right… I guess you can’t do anything without your glasses. Here.”
Kazuya, in his usual earnest manner, gave Ms. Cecile her glasses. She quickly took them and put them on. Cold sweat trickled down her back.
“As a homeroom teacher, I want to keep track of things, not because I’m a gossip or anything.”
“What? Uh, do you know where Victorique went? I lost sight of her while looking for you.”
“Victorique? I-I don’t know where she went.
Kazuya frowned. “Okay, then.” He walked away.
After a moment of hesitation, Ms. Cecile went after him. “Kujou!”
“Yes?” He turned around.
“Um, have you done your homework? I’m sure you did. This is you we’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I finished them yesterday.”
“Of course you did. How are you feeling?”
“Wh-What? I feel fine. Just a little upset right now because I lost Victorique.”
“I see. Anything troubling you?”
Kazuya froze. He was silent for a moment. But like a bursting dam, he said, “I have a bunch of them, and they never stop coming. First of all, Victorique. She keeps whining about how bored she is, and how she wants me to cause an incident. She won’t let me use the elevator, and she keeps on belittling me, calling me dumb, a simpleton, among other things.”
“Wh-What about Avril?”
“Avril? She’s a very nice girl. I don’t have any problems with her. Anyway, Victorique always has something to say about my gifts, and she gets mad with just a little poke at her cheek. Also—”
“Anything else?”
“Hmm… Oh, I get a letter from my sister every other day, mostly just her complaining about my father and brothers. It literally never stops. My brother, on the other hand, sends me a book on oriental martial arts every day. One book is enough. They just keep on coming. I have no choice but to study martial arts every night after I finish studying and organizing things. And my mother has been sending a lot of pressed flowers for some reason…”
“Okay, I get it.”
Ms. Cecile’s head was spinning from all the pent-up stress that this kind-hearted oriental boy was releasing.
“So, what kind of girl do you like?”
Kazuya slowly turned around.
His face was bright red. Ms. Cecile shrank back in astonishment. Kazuya held his cheeks with the palms of his hands like a girl, and after a moment of fidgeting, he spun and bolted away at full speed.
Ms. Cecile fixed her round glasses.
“…Huh?” was all she could say.
“Wh-What’s wrong with her?” Kazuya mumbled as he hurried away. “Seriously, where’d that question even come from? Boys shouldn’t be chatting about such things.”
He staggered and almost fell. “Besides, I-I don’t even know what kind of girl I like…”
Kazuya was walking along a wide pathway leading to the large U-shaped school building. The huge structure blocked out the summer sun, casting shadows on the pathway. He hurried past the building.
The school building was quiet. He couldn’t see any students or teachers in the corridors or classrooms from the outside. It was almost like the long summer break had already begun.
Once vacation started, the school would be deserted like some archeological ruin. Having no plans for the summer vacation, Kazuya felt a little dejected. Two months were not enough for a trip back home, and too long for a period of relaxation.
He sighed. “Huh?”
At the back entrance to the school building, on the three-step stairs facing the flowerbeds, he spotted the little friend he had been looking for—Victorique de Blois—sitting there. She had the golden book on her lap. She was thinking. Small colorful butterflies were fluttering around her.
“Victorique!” Kazuya called out to her as he trotted toward the stairs. “Are you sure you don’t have candy stuck on your dress or hair?”
“Hmm?” Victorique lifted her head. Kazuya was diligently inspecting her long hair and layers of ruffles. “Stop being so finicky!”
“You’ve got macaroon powder on your butt. No worries, though. I’ll clean it up for you.”
“Stop talking. Go away. You’re distracting me.”
Victorique slapped him on the cheek, and went back to thinking. Kazuya was stunned. He then lowered his hand and sat down beside Victorique. She frowned a little, but didn’t say anything.
“What do you think is going on?” Kazuya asked.
There was no reply. A wind blew.
“What are you talking about?” Victorique said.
“This creepy case. ‘Cause honestly I’m completely stumped. You say the alchemist is gone. But then, who’s responsible for the murders in the clock tower? And what about that eerie presence inside?”
“Who knows?”
“The alchemist is not dead. He just disappeared. But where did he go? If he’s dead, where’s his body? And if he’s alive, where is he? Maybe he’s hiding somewhere very close by. Somewhere in the academy, for example. Otherwise, there’s no way to explain the murders.”
“…”
“No one knows what he actually looks like behind the mask. So if he returned secretly to the academy, no one would recognize him. Am I right?”
Victorique only gave a low grunt in reply.
The wind blew again, and the flowers danced.
“I’ve known where the alchemist is right from the beginning,” Victorique suddenly muttered.
Kazuya jumped. “Wh-What do you mean? How’d you know? Where is he?”
“The reconstruction is not yet done. The last piece still eludes me. Soon, perhaps…” She fell silent, staring at the golden book on her lap.
Kazuya studied her face. Skin as fine and white as porcelain. A face so small and handsome that it could have been mistaken for a doll. Ruthless green eyes.
Another wind blew.
Kazuya stood up quietly so as not to disturb her, and left. Victorique simply sat there without saying anything.
Chapter 107: Volume 4 - CH 5.3
On the campus of St. Marguerite Academy, the lush green lawns and gorgeous flowerbeds glowed vividly under the sky. The summer sun shone on the water cascading from the crystal fountain and on the pathways paved with white stones.
In the middle of the colorful flowerbeds, near the relaxing stream, Ms. Cecile was mumbling to herself.
“I-I wasn’t expecting that. Don’t take Kujou away from me? He’s a nice boy, I suppose. Well-mannered, kind-hearted, and somewhat amusing. But…”
The sun was slowly going down. In the distance, Inspector Blois, his golden drill-shaped hair fixed properly this time, was walking along the pathway, with his subordinates—holding hands, as usual—following him. Victorique was already gone. Avril, disheartened, was tottering toward the school building.
Ms. Cecile stood up. She wore no glasses as she had left them in the clock tower earlier. Her drooping brown eyes looked larger and more moist than usual. A gust almost knocked her into the flowerbed, but she managed to stay on her feet. She sighed in relief.
Suddenly she clapped her hands, and her face lit up.
“Let’s get this straight,” she said.
She crouched down, picked up a twig, and scratched a diagram on the ground. At the corners of a triangle, she wrote V, K, and A.
“First, Avril actually likes Kujou. Since when did she start liking him? When she first transferred, I think she was chasing around Kujou because she liked the supernatural, and he was a mysterious oriental called the Reaper. When did that turn into love? I didn’t notice at all. Well, let’s leave that aside for now. What about Kujou? I have no idea. He looks earnest… Oh, I think he mentioned he liked blondes! Or wait, I think he said his favorite color was gold. Oh well, whatever. Anyway, that means… Wait, Avril and Victorique both have blonde hair. Now what?”
Ms. Cecile cocked her head. She added arrows.
“Whatever. Let’s say Kujou likes Victorique. I have a feeling that’s the case. Besides, that would be more interesting. Then what about Victorique?”
“What are you doing?” came a familiar male voice from behind.
Ms. Cecile let out a shriek, sprang to her feet, and erased the diagram she had drawn on the ground with the heel of her shoe.
“Huh? Oh, Kujou…” She turned around and saw Kazuya, holding her glasses, staring at her with a dumbfounded look. She wiped away the cold sweat. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
“Right… I guess you can’t do anything without your glasses. Here.”
Kazuya, in his usual earnest manner, gave Ms. Cecile her glasses. She quickly took them and put them on. Cold sweat trickled down her back.
“As a homeroom teacher, I want to keep track of things, not because I’m a gossip or anything.”
“What? Uh, do you know where Victorique went? I lost sight of her while looking for you.”
“Victorique? I-I don’t know where she went.
After a moment of hesitation, Ms. Cecile went after him. “Kujou!”
“Yes?” He turned around.
“Um, have you done your homework? I’m sure you did. This is you we’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I finished them yesterday.”
“Of course you did. How are you feeling?”
“Wh-What? I feel fine. Just a little upset right now because I lost Victorique.”
“I see. Anything troubling you?”
Kazuya froze. He was silent for a moment. But like a bursting dam, he said, “I have a bunch of them, and they never stop coming. First of all, Victorique. She keeps whining about how bored she is, and how she wants me to cause an incident. She won’t let me use the elevator, and she keeps on belittling me, calling me dumb, a simpleton, among other things.”
“Wh-What about Avril?”
“Avril? She’s a very nice girl. I don’t have any problems with her. Anyway, Victorique always has something to say about my gifts, and she gets mad with just a little poke at her cheek. Also—”
“Anything else?”
“Hmm… Oh, I get a letter from my sister every other day, mostly just her complaining about my father and brothers. It literally never stops. My brother, on the other hand, sends me a book on oriental martial arts every day. One book is enough. They just keep on coming. I have no choice but to study martial arts every night after I finish studying and organizing things. And my mother has been sending a lot of pressed flowers for some reason…”
“Okay, I get it.”
Ms. Cecile’s head was spinning from all the pent-up stress that this kind-hearted oriental boy was releasing.
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With nothing more to say, Kazuya bowed and turned to leave, so Ms. Cecile quickly popped the question she really wanted to ask.“So, what kind of girl do you like?”
Kazuya slowly turned around.
His face was bright red. Ms. Cecile shrank back in astonishment. Kazuya held his cheeks with the palms of his hands like a girl, and after a moment of fidgeting, he spun and bolted away at full speed.
Ms. Cecile fixed her round glasses.
“Wh-What’s wrong with her?” Kazuya mumbled as he hurried away. “Seriously, where’d that question even come from? Boys shouldn’t be chatting about such things.”
He staggered and almost fell. “Besides, I-I don’t even know what kind of girl I like…”
Kazuya was walking along a wide pathway leading to the large U-shaped school building. The huge structure blocked out the summer sun, casting shadows on the pathway. He hurried past the building.
The school building was quiet. He couldn’t see any students or teachers in the corridors or classrooms from the outside. It was almost like the long summer break had already begun.
Once vacation started, the school would be deserted like some archeological ruin. Having no plans for the summer vacation, Kazuya felt a little dejected. Two months were not enough for a trip back home, and too long for a period of relaxation.
He sighed. “Huh?”
At the back entrance to the school building, on the three-step stairs facing the flowerbeds, he spotted the little friend he had been looking for—Victorique de Blois—sitting there. She had the golden book on her lap. She was thinking. Small colorful butterflies were fluttering around her.
“Victorique!” Kazuya called out to her as he trotted toward the stairs. “Are you sure you don’t have candy stuck on your dress or hair?”
“Hmm?” Victorique lifted her head. Kazuya was diligently inspecting her long hair and layers of ruffles. “Stop being so finicky!”
“You’ve got macaroon powder on your butt. No worries, though. I’ll clean it up for you.”
“Stop talking. Go away. You’re distracting me.”
Victorique slapped him on the cheek, and went back to thinking. Kazuya was stunned. He then lowered his hand and sat down beside Victorique. She frowned a little, but didn’t say anything.
“What do you think is going on?” Kazuya asked.
There was no reply. A wind blew.
“What are you talking about?” Victorique said.
“This creepy case. ‘Cause honestly I’m completely stumped. You say the alchemist is gone. But then, who’s responsible for the murders in the clock tower? And what about that eerie presence inside?”
“Who knows?”
“The alchemist is not dead. He just disappeared. But where did he go? If he’s dead, where’s his body? And if he’s alive, where is he? Maybe he’s hiding somewhere very close by. Somewhere in the academy, for example. Otherwise, there’s no way to explain the murders.”
“…”
Victorique only gave a low grunt in reply.
The wind blew again, and the flowers danced.
“I’ve known where the alchemist is right from the beginning,” Victorique suddenly muttered.
Kazuya jumped. “Wh-What do you mean? How’d you know? Where is he?”
“The reconstruction is not yet done. The last piece still eludes me. Soon, perhaps…” She fell silent, staring at the golden book on her lap.
Kazuya studied her face. Skin as fine and white as porcelain. A face so small and handsome that it could have been mistaken for a doll. Ruthless green eyes.
Another wind blew.
Kazuya stood up quietly so as not to disturb her, and left. Victorique simply sat there without saying anything.
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