GosickS
Kazuya rushed out of the noisy cathedral.
It was much brighter outside. The sun was still up.
He almost tripped on the way out, but he managed to stay on his feet.
A thick, milky mist hung in the air. Kazuya stood there alone, no one in front or behind him.
Sergius’ voice echoed in his head.
“Your hearts will never be apart.”
“The gale will separate you.”
“A gale strong enough to shake the world will blow.”
“Years from now…”
“The wind…”
Kazuya shook his head wildly. “I’m not buying it. I will never believe in fortune-telling.”
He realized that his voice was trembling. It was unlike him, he thought. He wondered why he had asked such a question.
While staring at the tips of his shoes, he sensed someone coming from within the mist. They were approaching with silent footsteps. He spotted a small head with braided, golden hair. Bulging eyes darted to Kazuya.
It was Harminia.
“Um, I had my fortune told,” Kazuya said briefly.
“Ah.” Harminia nodded. Her voice was low, like a man’s, but then it suddenly took on a woman’s high-pitched tone. “I take it it was a terrible one?”
“Uh, yeah… I think.”
“Your future cannot be changed.”
“I don’t really believe in fortune-telling.”
“Cannot be changed,” she repeated with a chuckle.
While Kazuya stared at the maid blankly, Victorique came from behind.
Harminia eyed them both, and in a raspy old voice said, “There was, however, a time in the past when the future was changed.” She walked away, her figure quickly obscured by the thick veil of mist.
“What’s her deal?” Kazuya said. “Change this, can’t change that. Victorique… Wait, what’s wrong?”
Victorique’s cheeks were puffed like a squirrel whose mouth was stuffed with nuts. And tears filled her eyes.
Must’ve been a really awful fortune…
“What did you ask?” Kazuya asked as they walked toward the manor.
“It’s none of your business,” Victorique huffed. As usual, she was in a very bad mood.
“True,” Kazuya replied, his temper flaring.
But when he realized that she could ask him the same question, he went quiet.
Maybe she asked a very serious question that she couldn’t tell other people. In that case, I shouldn’t ask her.
“I asked if I would grow,” Victorique said brusquely.
“What do you mean, ‘grow’?”
“Taller.”
“What?!” Kazuya stopped and looked at her.
Victorique’s small head only reached his chest, and he was rather small for a boy. She was quite short for a girl of fifteen. Apparently, her height bothered her.
Kazuya almost burst into laughter. “Oh, you asked about your height.”
She must have been told that she wouldn’t grow any taller, he thought. He felt sorry for her, but he couldn’t help himself.
The anger and frustration inside him had vanished. Kazuya had never been one to dwell on things for very long. Except when he was really hurt, like when he clashed with his father and brothers.
But the quiet and dangerous look in Victorique’s eyes allowed for no smiles.
“You laughed, didn’t you?” she said.
“Huh?”
Victorique’s expression dimmed. “It’s always like this with you. You don’t understand a thing about me, but you act like you do.”
Kazuya was stunned. It wasn’t like her to say those words. Her tone was darker than usual, and she sounded as though she was about to cry.
“Ouch!”
Victorique stared daggers at him. She looked teary-eyed.
“Hey, that hurts,” Kazuya protested. “I said it hurts. Stop it!”
Without a word, Victorique entered the manor ahead of him.
Before Kazuya could follow her inside, he was stopped by Inspector Blois, who had spotted him. Though concerned about Victorique, he remained behind.
“Kujou,” the inspector called. “Is she, um, heading back? I need her to stay in the academy, or I’ll get in trouble. You go convince her.”
“Uh, well…”
Kazuya explained that Victorique was adamant in staying and that he would be sticking with her.
The inspector snorted. “Does it really matter if you’re with her or not? You seem to get along well, but that’s just between you and her.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Inspector Blois narrowed his eyes. “She shouldn’t be outside. Cordelia Gallo did something she shouldn’t have done in the last Great War. She’s no ordinary human being. She’s dangerous. You just don’t know that yet.”
There was fear and disgust on the inspector’s face. Kazuya regarded him wordlessly. He wanted to ask something, but he didn’t know what to say. He felt as if he did not know anything about Victorique, and it made him sad and angry.
“Anyway, she has to return to the academy for the time being,” the inspector continued. “She was allowed admission on the condition that she stayed there. My father will decide the rest, I believe.”
“Your father? You mean Marquis de Blois?”
“That’s right! We will probably both get reprimanded. I was the one tasked with watching her.”
Kazuya shook his head. He couldn’t make sense of anything.
A figure was approaching them from the thick fog. Hearing the loud footsteps, Kazuya whirled around. A second later, the inspector did the same.
It was Ambrose. He was hurrying away from the cathedral, but stopped when he noticed them.
Emerging from the fog, he looked like a man from bygone times. His old-fashioned, stiff and fluffy woolen shirt, leather vest, knee-length trousers, and loud, pointy shoes gave him the appearance of a ghost of a peasant from the Middle Ages.
But his face—with its long, golden hair, green eyes, and rosy cheeks—was full of the youthful charm typical of young men who just left their teenage years. His expression was bright with curiosity.
He smiled at Kazuya. When he noticed the new guest, he said, “We’ve received word from the lookout. Are you… the… new…?”
He trailed off, his sparkling eyes staring straight at the drill that sat on top of Grevil’s pretentious face.
Traces of Ambrose’s childish nature came out, and he quickly forgot his position as the village head’s assistant. He studied the new guest curiously. And then like a child, started bombarding him with questions.
“If I may ask, sir, is that what’s currently popular among the youth? What is it supposed to represent? And your shirt is made of silk. Do men wear silk shirts too? What are those shiny things on your wrist? Ah, substitute for buttons. So pretty… Is it silver?”
“Ambrose!” A steely voice came from deep within the fog.
Ambrose snapped back to his senses and stopped talking. Inspector Blois didn’t seem to mind the young man’s questions. In fact, he was about to gladly explain to the young man his fashion choices, when an old man, who looked like a priest from the dark ages, appeared from the fog. Startled, he shut his mouth.
The inspector hid behind Kazuya. “Who’s that?” he whispered.
“The village chief.”
Trembling with rage, Sergius glowered at his young assistant. Even his beard seemed to stand on end. Ambrose bit his lip and hung his head low.
“Ambrose. You’re still interested in such things? As the next village chief, you will have to protect the village. I endorsed you because I believed you had the potential.”
“Sir…”
“You become restless when guests from the outside arrive. Just like when you were young. One day, a descendant named Brian Roscoe suddenly paid a visit, stayed in the village for a while, and used his vast wealth to install electricity in the village. You took to him, and all day long, you begged him to tell you stories about the city. Foolish curiosity. For months after Brian left, you climbed up the turret and looked out over the mountains. You are a grown man now. Have you not changed a bit from when you were a foolish child?”
“I apologize…” Ambrose hung his head even lower.
“And your hair is coming undone. Tie it up properly. Don’t let your hair erode your mind.”
Ambrose fumbled with his hair. It didn’t look that disheveled, but two strands of blonde hair hung loose around his neck.
For a while, Sergius stared at the young man as he tied his hair. He then turned his gaze to the odd, fashionable man hiding behind Kazuya.
“And who might you be?” the old man asked.
Ambrose told him that he was a new guest. Sergius’ brow furrowed slightly when Kazuya explained that he was Victorique’s half-brother.
Inspector Blois proudly introduced himself. “My name is Grevil de Blois. I’m a famed inspector by profession. Just kidding… Hmm? Is something the matter?”
As soon as he heard Inspector Blois’ occupation, Sergius’ expression changed. “Are you a police officer?”
“Yes… What of it?”
“In that case…” Sergius looked Inspector Blois straight in the eye. “There is an incident I would like you to solve.”
Chapter 54: Volume 2 - CH 5.3
It was much brighter outside. The sun was still up.
He almost tripped on the way out, but he managed to stay on his feet.
A thick, milky mist hung in the air. Kazuya stood there alone, no one in front or behind him.
Sergius’ voice echoed in his head.
“Your hearts will never be apart.”
“The gale will separate you.”
“A gale strong enough to shake the world will blow.”
“Years from now…”
“The wind…”
Kazuya shook his head wildly. “I’m not buying it. I will never believe in fortune-telling.”
He realized that his voice was trembling. It was unlike him, he thought. He wondered why he had asked such a question.
While staring at the tips of his shoes, he sensed someone coming from within the mist. They were approaching with silent footsteps. He spotted a small head with braided, golden hair. Bulging eyes darted to Kazuya.
It was Harminia.
“Um, I had my fortune told,” Kazuya said briefly.
“Ah.” Harminia nodded. Her voice was low, like a man’s, but then it suddenly took on a woman’s high-pitched tone. “I take it it was a terrible one?”
“Uh, yeah… I think.”
“Your future cannot be changed.”
“I don’t really believe in fortune-telling.”
“Cannot be changed,” she repeated with a chuckle.
Harminia eyed them both, and in a raspy old voice said, “There was, however, a time in the past when the future was changed.” She walked away, her figure quickly obscured by the thick veil of mist.
“What’s her deal?” Kazuya said. “Change this, can’t change that. Victorique… Wait, what’s wrong?”
Victorique’s cheeks were puffed like a squirrel whose mouth was stuffed with nuts. And tears filled her eyes.
Must’ve been a really awful fortune…
“What did you ask?” Kazuya asked as they walked toward the manor.
“It’s none of your business,” Victorique huffed. As usual, she was in a very bad mood.
“True,” Kazuya replied, his temper flaring.
But when he realized that she could ask him the same question, he went quiet.
Maybe she asked a very serious question that she couldn’t tell other people. In that case, I shouldn’t ask her.
“I asked if I would grow,” Victorique said brusquely.
“What do you mean, ‘grow’?”
“Taller.”
“What?!” Kazuya stopped and looked at her.
Victorique’s small head only reached his chest, and he was rather small for a boy. She was quite short for a girl of fifteen. Apparently, her height bothered her.
Kazuya almost burst into laughter. “Oh, you asked about your height.”
She must have been told that she wouldn’t grow any taller, he thought. He felt sorry for her, but he couldn’t help himself.
The anger and frustration inside him had vanished. Kazuya had never been one to dwell on things for very long. Except when he was really hurt, like when he clashed with his father and brothers.
But the quiet and dangerous look in Victorique’s eyes allowed for no smiles.
“Huh?”
Victorique’s expression dimmed. “It’s always like this with you. You don’t understand a thing about me, but you act like you do.”
Kazuya was stunned. It wasn’t like her to say those words. Her tone was darker than usual, and she sounded as though she was about to cry.
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Suddenly, Victorique kicked his shin hard. It didn’t pack much power, but her tiny leather shoe was so hard that Kazuya jumped.“Ouch!”
Victorique stared daggers at him. She looked teary-eyed.
“Hey, that hurts,” Kazuya protested. “I said it hurts. Stop it!”
Without a word, Victorique entered the manor ahead of him.
Before Kazuya could follow her inside, he was stopped by Inspector Blois, who had spotted him. Though concerned about Victorique, he remained behind.
“Kujou,” the inspector called. “Is she, um, heading back? I need her to stay in the academy, or I’ll get in trouble. You go convince her.”
“Uh, well…”
Kazuya explained that Victorique was adamant in staying and that he would be sticking with her.
The inspector snorted. “Does it really matter if you’re with her or not? You seem to get along well, but that’s just between you and her.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Inspector Blois narrowed his eyes. “She shouldn’t be outside. Cordelia Gallo did something she shouldn’t have done in the last Great War. She’s no ordinary human being. She’s dangerous. You just don’t know that yet.”
There was fear and disgust on the inspector’s face. Kazuya regarded him wordlessly. He wanted to ask something, but he didn’t know what to say. He felt as if he did not know anything about Victorique, and it made him sad and angry.
“Anyway, she has to return to the academy for the time being,” the inspector continued. “She was allowed admission on the condition that she stayed there. My father will decide the rest, I believe.”
“Your father? You mean Marquis de Blois?”
“That’s right! We will probably both get reprimanded. I was the one tasked with watching her.”
A figure was approaching them from the thick fog. Hearing the loud footsteps, Kazuya whirled around. A second later, the inspector did the same.
It was Ambrose. He was hurrying away from the cathedral, but stopped when he noticed them.
Emerging from the fog, he looked like a man from bygone times. His old-fashioned, stiff and fluffy woolen shirt, leather vest, knee-length trousers, and loud, pointy shoes gave him the appearance of a ghost of a peasant from the Middle Ages.
But his face—with its long, golden hair, green eyes, and rosy cheeks—was full of the youthful charm typical of young men who just left their teenage years. His expression was bright with curiosity.
He smiled at Kazuya. When he noticed the new guest, he said, “We’ve received word from the lookout. Are you… the… new…?”
He trailed off, his sparkling eyes staring straight at the drill that sat on top of Grevil’s pretentious face.
Traces of Ambrose’s childish nature came out, and he quickly forgot his position as the village head’s assistant. He studied the new guest curiously. And then like a child, started bombarding him with questions.
“If I may ask, sir, is that what’s currently popular among the youth? What is it supposed to represent? And your shirt is made of silk. Do men wear silk shirts too? What are those shiny things on your wrist? Ah, substitute for buttons. So pretty… Is it silver?”
“Ambrose!” A steely voice came from deep within the fog.
Ambrose snapped back to his senses and stopped talking. Inspector Blois didn’t seem to mind the young man’s questions. In fact, he was about to gladly explain to the young man his fashion choices, when an old man, who looked like a priest from the dark ages, appeared from the fog. Startled, he shut his mouth.
The inspector hid behind Kazuya. “Who’s that?” he whispered.
“The village chief.”
Trembling with rage, Sergius glowered at his young assistant. Even his beard seemed to stand on end. Ambrose bit his lip and hung his head low.
“Ambrose. You’re still interested in such things? As the next village chief, you will have to protect the village. I endorsed you because I believed you had the potential.”
“Sir…”
“You become restless when guests from the outside arrive. Just like when you were young. One day, a descendant named Brian Roscoe suddenly paid a visit, stayed in the village for a while, and used his vast wealth to install electricity in the village. You took to him, and all day long, you begged him to tell you stories about the city. Foolish curiosity. For months after Brian left, you climbed up the turret and looked out over the mountains. You are a grown man now. Have you not changed a bit from when you were a foolish child?”
“I apologize…” Ambrose hung his head even lower.
“And your hair is coming undone. Tie it up properly. Don’t let your hair erode your mind.”
Ambrose fumbled with his hair. It didn’t look that disheveled, but two strands of blonde hair hung loose around his neck.
“And who might you be?” the old man asked.
Ambrose told him that he was a new guest. Sergius’ brow furrowed slightly when Kazuya explained that he was Victorique’s half-brother.
Inspector Blois proudly introduced himself. “My name is Grevil de Blois. I’m a famed inspector by profession. Just kidding… Hmm? Is something the matter?”
As soon as he heard Inspector Blois’ occupation, Sergius’ expression changed. “Are you a police officer?”
“Yes… What of it?”
“In that case…” Sergius looked Inspector Blois straight in the eye. “There is an incident I would like you to solve.”
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