GosickS
With a glance at Kazuya’s face, the driver shrugged, whipped his horse, and rode away. As Kazuya watched the carriage go, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Inspector Blois was staring at him with disappointment.
“I’m really telling the truth,” Kazuya insisted.
“I’m heading back to the station.”
“Inspector…”
“Enough.” The inspector called for a carriage, then with a stern look said, “Not only do you have no proof for your claims, but eyewitnesses disagree with your statements. Besides, you’re dealing with Mr. Garnier, a major figure in the business world. He may not be a noble, but he’s one of the most important figures in Saubreme, a rapidly-developing economic hub. He’s not someone you can discredit with mere speculation.”
“But…”
“And one more thing.” Inspector Blois bit his lip hard. “I want to knock the wind out of Mr. Signore’s sails. I don’t have time for this nonsense. I must prove myself here in Saubreme. Please don’t waste any more of my precious time.”
Kazuya refused to back down. “But Inspector. I really saw a girl asking for help!”
“You were daydreaming.”
“I wasn’t,” he mumbled.
He didn’t know what was what anymore. He just wanted to forget all about it, call it a nightmare.
But Kazuya could not forget the strange girl, the fear that lurked within her deep purple eyes.
He had never seen anyone with a face like that. A look of genuine fear. If that girl was not a ghost in his daydreams, but a real person, and if she really was in deep trouble, how could he just ignore her?
His earnest nature reared its head and refused to let him forget. But he did not know what to do. No one corroborated his statements. The room with the glass cases was different from the one in his memory, and the girl in the crate was gone.
“Just continue your shopping.”
The inspector smiled dryly and rode away in the carriage with the officers.
Hooves clattered along the old cobblestones. The glaring midday sun shone on the street and on the building glasses. Noon in an early summer was such that just standing around would make one a bit sweaty. The daylight seemed to make the nightmarish events that happened just moments earlier surreal.
Carriages passed by in front of Kazuya, who was lost in thought as he listened to the clattering of hooves, the voices of the people of Saubreme walking past, and the trumpets coming from the square in front of the royal palace.
“My daughter was eaten!” He felt a sudden tug at his clothes. “Eateeeen!”
Kazuya turned around in surprise and saw a woman with a wrinkled face, dressed in rags. She was looking at him, the hands on his clothes quivering.
“She was eaten by the darkness!”
Kazuya didn’t know what to do. A small hand, stained black, came from behind him. It yanked Kazuya with incredible force, pulling him away from the wailing old lady, and took him to a dim area with a drainage ditch.
“Give me a piece of paper.” A whisper right at his ear.
A pair of dark little eyes shone in the shadows, burning blue like will-o’-the-wisps. Skin blackened with soot and dirt, and disheveled hair whose original color was rendered ambiguous by dirt. It was the street urchin from earlier.
“I saved you from the old lady,” he said. “So give me paper.”
“You’re not getting any,” Kazuya said firmly. “In fact, I should be asking for my money back.”
The kid snorted and gave Kazuya a dubious look. “You’re pretty shrewd for a Chinese.”
“I’m not Chinese. Though I understand it’s hard to tell the difference.”
“Oh, really now?” he said in a bored tone. He watched the street for a while with a frown. “So no paper from you.”
“Tsk. Fine, then. By the way, why do you keep coming to Jeantan?”
The kid’s words went past Kazuya’s ears for a second.
Then suddenly, Kazuya gasped and turned to the kid, the motion so quick that the kid braced and shielded his shaggy little head with his hands, expecting to get hit.
“Did I enter Jeantan?” Kazuya asked with a serious face.
The kid peeked from between his arms, looking skeptical. “What are you talking about? Shouldn’t you know that yourself?”
“No, I do. But that’s not the point.”
The kid pointed to the clock tower in the square. Then with half-lidded eyes, he started talking rapidly in a strange inflection, as if something was controlling him.
“You entered Jeantan at 11:22. 11:46 you came out and got into a carriage. You returned at 12:09 with a nobleman with a weird hairdo and two officers. Then you came out at exactly 12:30.”
“Wow. You have a great memory,” Kazuya murmured in disbelief. The kid snorted and looked away.
“But yeah. I’ve been to Jeantan, that’s for sure. There’s no doubt about it. But for some reason, all the sales staff said they never saw me. And the carriage driver said he gave me a ride somewhere else.”
The kid’s cheek tightened. He was smirking. “Man, you’re dumb. If they were given paper, they’d easily lie. If Jeantan gave me a bunch, I would even deny meeting you. They must’ve received a lot from them.”
Kazuya fell silent momentarily. “But the room’s decor was completely different. The walls, the chandelier, the floor. They told me I must have been dreaming.”
“Give me some paper,” the kid demanded.
Kazuya reluctantly pulled out his wallet and handed over a bill. The kid grinned, swiftly hiding the bill somewhere on his body. Then with half-lidded eyes, he entered some sort of a trance.
“11:50, a bunch of men entered through the back door. They were carrying a lot of stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Cans full of paint, brush, and something that looked like a big roll of gold paper. A rolled up carpet. They were wearing overalls with paint on them.”
“Must be painters, then.”
“They came out at 12:04 with no gold paper or carpet, then hurried away in a carriage.”
“The golden paper must be wallpaper. If they didn’t have it when they came out, they must have used it inside. Probably in that room where the walls changed from brown to gold.”
The kid opened his eyes. “12:04 was five minutes before you returned,” he said with a yawn.
“Yeah. They must have quickly replaced the wallpaper and put down the carpet after I left. They should have plenty of chandeliers for sale, too.” Kazuya shrugged. “If what you say is true, that is. How can you remember things so accurately?” He regarded the boy skeptically.
The kid scowled at him. His cheek quivered from having his pride hurt. “I don’t lie. I watched from across the street the whole time. I’ve seen things. But people don’t believe me because of how I look. So you don’t believe me either.”
“Actually…”
“I’ve been here a long time and know a lot of things. I even remember all the customers that entered Jeantan. See that woman over there?” He pointed to a woman carrying purple bags. “She went in two hours ago and just now came out. She did a lot of shopping. She’s carrying five paper bags.” He then pointed to an old man hurrying out the building. “And that man was only inside for three minutes. I can even tell what he bought. A walking stick. It’s not wrapped, but he didn’t have it with him when he entered. I’m guessing he didn’t bother asking for a bag because he was going to use it right away, and instead just removed the price tag. I watch Jeantan’s customers here every day.”
“I’m just—”
“Every month, a couple of customers don’t come out.”
“I’m just wondering how your memory’s so—wait, what do you mean they don’t come out?”
Chapter 77: Volume 3 - CH 3.3
“I’m really telling the truth,” Kazuya insisted.
“I’m heading back to the station.”
“Inspector…”
“Enough.” The inspector called for a carriage, then with a stern look said, “Not only do you have no proof for your claims, but eyewitnesses disagree with your statements. Besides, you’re dealing with Mr. Garnier, a major figure in the business world. He may not be a noble, but he’s one of the most important figures in Saubreme, a rapidly-developing economic hub. He’s not someone you can discredit with mere speculation.”
“But…”
“And one more thing.” Inspector Blois bit his lip hard. “I want to knock the wind out of Mr. Signore’s sails. I don’t have time for this nonsense. I must prove myself here in Saubreme. Please don’t waste any more of my precious time.”
Kazuya refused to back down. “But Inspector. I really saw a girl asking for help!”
“You were daydreaming.”
“I wasn’t,” he mumbled.
He didn’t know what was what anymore. He just wanted to forget all about it, call it a nightmare.
But Kazuya could not forget the strange girl, the fear that lurked within her deep purple eyes.
He had never seen anyone with a face like that. A look of genuine fear. If that girl was not a ghost in his daydreams, but a real person, and if she really was in deep trouble, how could he just ignore her?
His earnest nature reared its head and refused to let him forget. But he did not know what to do. No one corroborated his statements. The room with the glass cases was different from the one in his memory, and the girl in the crate was gone.
“Just continue your shopping.”
The inspector smiled dryly and rode away in the carriage with the officers.
Hooves clattered along the old cobblestones. The glaring midday sun shone on the street and on the building glasses. Noon in an early summer was such that just standing around would make one a bit sweaty. The daylight seemed to make the nightmarish events that happened just moments earlier surreal.
Carriages passed by in front of Kazuya, who was lost in thought as he listened to the clattering of hooves, the voices of the people of Saubreme walking past, and the trumpets coming from the square in front of the royal palace.
“My daughter was eaten!” He felt a sudden tug at his clothes. “Eateeeen!”
Kazuya turned around in surprise and saw a woman with a wrinkled face, dressed in rags. She was looking at him, the hands on his clothes quivering.
Kazuya didn’t know what to do. A small hand, stained black, came from behind him. It yanked Kazuya with incredible force, pulling him away from the wailing old lady, and took him to a dim area with a drainage ditch.
“Give me a piece of paper.” A whisper right at his ear.
A pair of dark little eyes shone in the shadows, burning blue like will-o’-the-wisps. Skin blackened with soot and dirt, and disheveled hair whose original color was rendered ambiguous by dirt. It was the street urchin from earlier.
“I saved you from the old lady,” he said. “So give me paper.”
“You’re not getting any,” Kazuya said firmly. “In fact, I should be asking for my money back.”
The kid snorted and gave Kazuya a dubious look. “You’re pretty shrewd for a Chinese.”
“I’m not Chinese. Though I understand it’s hard to tell the difference.”
“Oh, really now?” he said in a bored tone. He watched the street for a while with a frown. “So no paper from you.”
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“Nope.”“Tsk. Fine, then. By the way, why do you keep coming to Jeantan?”
The kid’s words went past Kazuya’s ears for a second.
Then suddenly, Kazuya gasped and turned to the kid, the motion so quick that the kid braced and shielded his shaggy little head with his hands, expecting to get hit.
“Did I enter Jeantan?” Kazuya asked with a serious face.
The kid peeked from between his arms, looking skeptical. “What are you talking about? Shouldn’t you know that yourself?”
“No, I do. But that’s not the point.”
The kid pointed to the clock tower in the square. Then with half-lidded eyes, he started talking rapidly in a strange inflection, as if something was controlling him.
“You entered Jeantan at 11:22. 11:46 you came out and got into a carriage. You returned at 12:09 with a nobleman with a weird hairdo and two officers. Then you came out at exactly 12:30.”
“Wow. You have a great memory,” Kazuya murmured in disbelief. The kid snorted and looked away.
“But yeah. I’ve been to Jeantan, that’s for sure. There’s no doubt about it. But for some reason, all the sales staff said they never saw me. And the carriage driver said he gave me a ride somewhere else.”
Kazuya fell silent momentarily. “But the room’s decor was completely different. The walls, the chandelier, the floor. They told me I must have been dreaming.”
“Give me some paper,” the kid demanded.
Kazuya reluctantly pulled out his wallet and handed over a bill. The kid grinned, swiftly hiding the bill somewhere on his body. Then with half-lidded eyes, he entered some sort of a trance.
“11:50, a bunch of men entered through the back door. They were carrying a lot of stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Cans full of paint, brush, and something that looked like a big roll of gold paper. A rolled up carpet. They were wearing overalls with paint on them.”
“Must be painters, then.”
“They came out at 12:04 with no gold paper or carpet, then hurried away in a carriage.”
“The golden paper must be wallpaper. If they didn’t have it when they came out, they must have used it inside. Probably in that room where the walls changed from brown to gold.”
The kid opened his eyes. “12:04 was five minutes before you returned,” he said with a yawn.
“Yeah. They must have quickly replaced the wallpaper and put down the carpet after I left. They should have plenty of chandeliers for sale, too.” Kazuya shrugged. “If what you say is true, that is. How can you remember things so accurately?” He regarded the boy skeptically.
The kid scowled at him. His cheek quivered from having his pride hurt. “I don’t lie. I watched from across the street the whole time. I’ve seen things. But people don’t believe me because of how I look. So you don’t believe me either.”
“Actually…”
“I’ve been here a long time and know a lot of things. I even remember all the customers that entered Jeantan. See that woman over there?” He pointed to a woman carrying purple bags. “She went in two hours ago and just now came out. She did a lot of shopping. She’s carrying five paper bags.” He then pointed to an old man hurrying out the building. “And that man was only inside for three minutes. I can even tell what he bought. A walking stick. It’s not wrapped, but he didn’t have it with him when he entered. I’m guessing he didn’t bother asking for a bag because he was going to use it right away, and instead just removed the price tag. I watch Jeantan’s customers here every day.”
“I’m just—”
“Every month, a couple of customers don’t come out.”
“I’m just wondering how your memory’s so—wait, what do you mean they don’t come out?”
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