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A Train Moving Away From Summer – Part 02

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Translator: Kell

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I know!

“If you could wait here a moment, Miss Lafitte.”

Sophie sprinted to the modest staff dormitory located right beside the main gate, where several maids dressed like Sophie came and went. She entered her room on the third floor and carefully pulled out a bag of cookies from a drawer. Grabbing one of the three bags, she waved to Miss Lafitte, who was looking at her curiously from outside the window. She then ran across the hallway, down the stairs, and back to Miss Lafitte.

“H-Here you go!” She was breathing heavily.

“Wh-What is it?”

“Cookies! My grandma made them using her secret recipe. It’s really good. You can’t get them anywhere else. So, um, they’re precious, but you can have them.”

Sophie blushed again, hanging her head in embarrassment. She thought it was terribly boorish and classless to be giving her grandmother’s cookies to a young noble lady who was worried about her future, knowing it wouldn’t really change anything.

“My grandma’s a great cook, but she’s also a bit superstitious,” Sophie began talking about her grandmother in an effort to hide her embarrassment. “She used to tell me all the time not to go outside on moonless nights, and to always make the sign of the cross when crossing an intersection. Weird, isn’t it? She also told me that if you want to confess something, you should write a letter and hide it where no one can find it, and that would be the same as confessing in a church. I do it secretly sometimes. I have a letter of confession that I hid in this school. And then—”

There was a crunch, and Sophie looked up. Miss Lafitte had stopped crying, happily eating a cookie.

“I-Is it good?”

“It is! Thanks, Sophie. It cheered me up a bit.”

They smiled at each other as if they were old-time friends.

Sophie’s cheeks loosened. She had always admired Miss Lafitte for being neat and so dignified. They might have become good friends if they were classmates, but they were student and maid. They had different social standings, and maids in their uniforms were treated like they weren’t there. No one learned their names or faces. So she gave up on the idea of befriending her.

This is goodbye, but I’m glad I could get close to her in the end. I’ll miss her.

Miss Lafitte gracefully wiped away her tears. “I will continue leading a life I can be proud of, even when I’m alone, even without my father’s support,” she declared. “My social status might change, but I will still be me. I will keep that in mind as I work hard. I…”

“Miss Lafitte!” Sophie started sobbing.

After leaving the puppy with Sophie, Miss Lafitte turned around, pulled on her suitcase, and walked away.

Goodbye, lovely Miss Lafitte.

Sophie sniffed as she hugged the puppy.

A cool breeze blew past between the two.

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Victorique and Kazuya crawled out from under the round table in the gazebo and stared at the small white envelope in the bright summer sun.

“Why is there a letter here?” Kazuya wondered. “Wait, Victorique! You can’t just open it!”

Victorique stopped tearing the envelope. She raised her head, giving Kazuya a quizzical look.

Kazuya folded his arms like the prim and proper boy that he was and shook his head.

“It isn’t right,” he said.

“What isn’t right?”

“You shouldn’t open or read private letters, no matter how bored you are, without permission… Hey, were you even listening?!”

Victorique listened only to the first part, sniffed audibly, and resumed opening the envelope. Kazuya immediately took it away from her. Victorique let out a yelp of genuine surprise, then, with an enigmatic blank expression, watched Kazuya intently.

A faint crease formed between her eyebrows.

Is she mad? Shocked?

Kazuya, not to be outdone, said flatly, “No, you can’t open it. It’s not yours. We have to return it to its owner.”

“Sounds like something you would say.”

“It is. Because I’m right. Let’s go.”

Pulling Victorique’s small hand, Kazuya left the gazebo.

“Where are we going?” Victorique asked.

“To the owner.”

“Hmm?”

Kazuya glanced over his shoulder. Victorique, looking like a gorgeous porcelain doll in her luxurious black dress and floral ornaments, was following him at a trot.

He smiled faintly. “Not the owner, but who it’s addressed to I suppose. The name on the envelope is someone I know. First we’re taking the letter to them. And then we can ask what it’s all about.”

Victorique frowned, a little annoyed. “Fair enough.”

“Right?”

“You’re a real bore, you know that?”

“Oh, sue me!”

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Pulling Victorique by the hand, Kazuya headed for the boys’ dormitory. The grain on the walls of the lavish and adorned building, built of oak wood, glistened in the sun.

“Is the dorm mother around?”

Kazuya entered through the small back door and headed straight to the large kitchen behind the dining hall on the first floor. He peeked inside and found the dorm mother, her bright-red hair in a ponytail, holding a cigarette in her mouth and humming to herself. She was wearing a matching red dress that exposed her cleavage. Sweat made her hair stick to her skin.

When the dorm mother noticed Kazuya, she asked sluggishly, “What’s the matter?”

But as soon as she saw Victorique’s face pop out from behind Kazuya, her breath caught. She quickly fixed her hair, buttoned up her dress, then shuffled up to them.

Startled, Victorique took three steps back.

The dorm mother craned her neck, inquisitively studying Victorique from above, below, to the right and left.

“What a lovely young lady!” she remarked. “Are you lost?”

“Um, she’s my friend,” Kazuya said timidly.

“Your friend? Really? Wow.” She sounded disgruntled, for some reason. Then, she gathered herself together. “What a pretty friend you have there. She’s like a walking Grafen Stein doll! Would you like some chocolate cake with raspberry jam, young lady?”

“…Yes,” Victorique replied in an incredibly quiet voice.

She then stood behind Kazuya and grabbed the sleeve of his kimono. The dorm mother looked a little surprised at Victorique’s husky voice. Then she quickly got up, went back into the kitchen, and started boiling chunks of chocolate.

“Uh, Ma’am?” Kazuya called.

“Kujou, melt some butter. And bring me eggs and sugar.”

“Yes, Ma’am. No, wait a minute. Uh, there’s this letter.”

“Keep your hands moving.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I mean…”

While Kazuya was forced to help with making chocolate cake, he told the dorm mother about the letter that they found in the gazebo.

The dorm mother put the ingredients in a bowl. “A letter in a strange spot?” she said, stirring the bowl. “Oh, that. There’s this superstitious belief that when you have a confession to make, you write it in a letter and hide it where no one can find it, and it’s like confessing in church.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Of course, nobody does that nowadays. I learned it from my grandmother. Hmm?” The dorm mother inclined her head quizzically as she poured the mixed ingredients into the mold and placed it in the oven. “I think I had this exact same conversation a long time ago.”

“With who?” Victorique, still hiding behind Kazuya’s sleeve—though the ruffles of her dress were peeking out—asked in her low, husky voice.

The dorm mother gave a start. “I’m not sure,” she mumbled fearfully. She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “I can’t remember.”

The dorm mother closed the oven and turned around. “Anyway, that letter of confession you found is addressed to me, yes?”

“That’s right.” Kazuya took the letter out of his sleeve pocket and handed it to the dorm mother, who took it suspiciously. “It says ‘To Sophie’.”

“Oh, my.”

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