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Au Revoir – Part 03

The girl was still there.

She was so silent, one couldn’t tell if she was alive or dead. A dim streetlamp cast a delicate glow upon her face—a face so perfect and divine. Long, lovely eyelashes trimmed her lids, and silver hair framed her small figure like a giant pearl shell. An otherworldly, almost eerie radiance emanated from her, simultaneously evoking awe and fear.

The man wore a tight look and made the sign of the cross.

“Oops. I guess I’m no longer a student at seminary,” he muttered awkwardly. “Dodged the draft and now just a sad pimp in the red-light district.” He lifted Victorique and closed the trunk. “Anyway, this girl looks like the god I imagined when I was a child. Back when I thought gods were women. Mostly because I grew up in a house with only women—my mother, sisters, cousins. When I found out that gods are actually men, I was so surprised that my legs gave out.”

More carefully than before, he carried the girl like a princess into the house through the back door. While the front entrance appeared lovely, viewed from behind, it was a terribly dilapidated single-story building.

“But this girl…” He peered at her face, terrified. “She’s pretty, but if you look closely, there’s something creepy about her. She looks like a tiny goddess, but at the same time, she looks like a devil. A wicked, nocturnal creature that bewitches people.”

Entering through the back door, he kicked off the flashy geta for women and went straight to the bath.

Humming a tune, he said, “Well, in any case, she’s a top-quality find. Let’s see… First, I’ll wash her thoroughly tonight, then tomorrow morning, I’ll show her off to the boss.”

Despite the late hour, the water in the spacious bath was still hot. The man, rolling up his sleeves, squatted to undress Victorique. As he removed her dirty blue dress, a golden pendant emerged from her chest, and he stopped for a moment. Then, he pulled the dress again.

“Wh-What is this?”

Concealed by the steam, her wonderful, pale skin, smooth as porcelain, bore black characters in this country’s script. The man sat stunned, mouth agape. When he saw the characters extend to her side, he cautiously turned over the unconscious girl.

The characters went all the way to her back.

“An address?” the man squealed, astonished. “Why in the world is there an address written on the belly and back of such a beautiful girl? Does it come off? No. It’s tattooed on her skin. Uh… what?”

He squatted down and looked up at the ceiling.

“Why write it on her body? She’s not mail. She has zero value, then. If this was English or French… Argh, darn it. I might as well finish cleaning her up.”

At wits’ end, the man washed Victorique’s hair. As he rinsed her roughly with hot water, a creepy feeling, the air shattering like glass, filled the room. Gulping, he peered at the girl’s face, only to find her eyes, which had been closed all along, wide open.

“Oh…”

Her eyes were a captivating emerald green, gleaming like jewels. Clear and enticing, yet unbelievably cold, they emitted a mysterious light, making it unclear if they belonged to a child, an adult, or something beyond human.

Feeling as if he had accidentally made eye contact with a god, the man almost made the sign of the cross again.

Victorique gazed silently at the man in peculiar clothing, studied his black hair and jet-black eyes. Then, her eyes narrowed slightly, as if processing something, emitting a chilling light. After a while, her glossy, cherry lips parted.

“I see,” she said in French. “I’ve finally reached the island country in the Far East.” She let out an eerie chuckle. “Which means it’s late March now. It seems I lost consciousness on the ship, got sold, and ended up in the hands of a lowlife. Ridiculous.”

The man stared at the girl, dumbfounded. Since he had never properly attended classes and had barely any knowledge of French, he understood only about half of what Victorique was saying. He was mainly surprised by her low, raspy voice and the sorrowful tone that seemed to grab the listener’s heart. All he could do was gape at her like an idiot.

Victorique slowly stood up and staggered a few steps. The man rushed to assist the girl, but with an air of obstinacy and arrogance, she slapped away his hand.

“I’m going!” Her voice was weak but resolute.

“Wh-Where to?” the man asked fearfully.

“Where? It’s obvious. To the place engraved on my body. I can’t read this language, but it should be an address in this country. I must go there. It’s the only way I can see him again.”

“But that place…”

It was a curious sight. A silver-haired foreign girl with black characters on her body standing in the steamy bath. Beside her, almost prostrating himself, a young man wearing a women’s kimono, somewhere between youth and adolescence, showing traces of earnestness on his face.

The man trembled. “I-I know that town. It’s no longer there. There was an air raid three or four days ago. Loads of those new American fighter planes flew in and carpet bombed the whole place, setting it ablaze. Customers said it was horrible.”

The girl looked puzzled, so he tried to convey it in broken French and English. It was unclear how much she understood, but the girl listened without changing her expression, then left the bathroom.

He quickly followed her. “I said the town is gone. There’s no address or anything. There’s no house, no street, and hardly any people! It’s war. Nothing we can do.”

“I’m going.”

“Did you even understand what I said? Besides…” The man found the smallest red kimono and put it on Victorique. “This is an important matter,” he said sternly. “I bought you. You will earn your keep here. Ugh, if it weren’t for that tattoo. If the boss finds out how much I paid for you, I’ll get an earful.”

“Tell me where the town was. Surely even disturbing weirdo in a ridiculous outfit like you can draw a map.”

“Now look here.” The man grabbed Victorique’s small shoulders and shook her.

The gold coin pendant shining on her chest clinked. Struck by an idea, the man grinned cunningly.

“…What is it?”

“I will let you go in exchange for that lovely pendant. How about it?”

“Th-This is not…”

For the first time, Victorique showed apprehension. She clenched the golden pendant in both hands, shaking her head. Her silver hair rippled, faintly glittering like pearls of snow. She seemed more like a girl of her age, and the man suddenly felt less afraid of her.

“Th-This is important… to me.”

“Hehe.”

The man left the bathroom, scanned the hallway, then guided Victorique into a cramped room under the stairs—it seemed to be his own. Inside, a worn-out bedding and an oddly grand writing desk were the only furnishings. A children’s Bible lay on the desk, showing signs of frequent reading.

The man pulled out a sheet of paper and began sketching a map, adding captions in questionable English and French to make it understandable, then presented it to Victorique. As she reached for it with trembling hands, he pulled it back.

“Hold it.”

“Ah…”

“It goes without saying that this isn’t free. Even if you were the wonderful god I dreamed of when I was a child. I’ve long since grown up. A man’s gotta eat.” He snatched the pendant.

“Ugh…”

Victorique, who had spewed hateful words just moments ago, now seemed on the verge of tears, her cheeks quivering.

But the man did not care. “Cry all you want, but you’re not getting this back. I have to earn back what I paid to the sailors, or I’ll go hungry. Come on, get out of here!” He poked Victorique on the head and pushed her out of the room.

Standing alone in the dark corridor, her red kimono and silver hair made her seem like some strange, nonhuman creature. She glanced back at the man’s room regretfully, then turned her focus on the map she was given.

She nodded resolutely. Kujou would move on. I’ll do the same.

“Onwards.” She blinked anxiously, lips trembling. “To a brighter future.”

Victorique walked down the corridor with uneasy steps, exiting through the back door. There was no one outside. The air was filled with a dusty and unpleasant smell, dirty leaves littering the road. A cold wind blew.

As she tottered onward with bare feet, something flew from behind her and fell on the road. She went to pick it up. It was a pair of small women’s geta with cute pink straps.

Victorique’s expression shifted slightly. A smile.

“I know this ridiculous design,” she mumbled to herself. “He was wearing these things in the summer of 1924. He tripped and dropped a cake, and he stepped on it with these. Shoes.”

Shivering, she inserted her small feet into the geta. She then looked over her shoulder, her green eyes flickering.

No one was at the back door, but Victorique glimpsed the tip of a red kimono. She smiled faintly.

Then she turned straight ahead and began to walk slowly. The waning moon cast a pale light on her small figure. Fallen leaves swirled as a gray wind groaned across the dusty road.

“Wait! I’m kinda curious, so I’m coming with you.”

The man burst out of the back door. His sly, threatening expression from earlier had vanished, revealing the pale profile of a timid, young boy.

There was no one on the road anymore. The mysterious foreign girl with silver hair had disappeared somewhere. The man took about ten steps, then stopped. His sleeves fluttered gently in the wind.

“The town you’re looking for has already burned down. Don’t you understand?” he said with a sigh.

The moon sat high in the sky.

“And it’s not just the town. We lived in peace before, but because of this war, people are getting drafted, they run away, their homes burn down. Circumstances have changed us. I’m a prime example.”

The stars twinkled.

“The person you want to see so badly is probably…” The man stood still, gazing in the direction the girl had disappeared to. “But maybe…” he whispered.

Clouds drifted by, revealing a clearer, more beautiful moon.

Leaning against the back door, the man was lost in thought, as if reminiscing of the old peaceful world before everything changed.

A chill wind blew, rippling his kimono, lifting dead leaves along the dark road where Victorique de Blois had disappeared.

And that wind lost its winter chill and took in the warmth of spring. Eventually, it turned into the hot wind of summer, before welcoming another lonely autumn.

Yet the war raged on, a massive storm sweeping across the entire world.

Time passed…