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Remembrance – 01

A Tale of Yellow Edelweiss —America, 1627—

A sunny weekend afternoon.

St. Marguerite Academy.

The slightly faded grass stirred in the soft and cool autumn breeze. Chilly water trickling down the white fountain occasionally splashed droplets on passing students. The days were getting shorter. The huge U-shaped school building cast a long, faint shadow over the garden.

It was the beginning of autumn.

Footsteps sounded in the boys’ dormitory located in a corner of the campus, the steady, rhythmical clacking suggesting it belonged to an earnest student. A small-built boy, an international student from the Orient, turned down the hallway, keeping his back straight.

The boy—Kazuya Kujou—had just returned to St. Marguerite Academy with Victorique a week ago. He went to pick up his friend, who was locked up in the seaside monastery Beelzebub’s Skull, and took the train Old Masquerade on the way back. After surviving all the incidents that had befallen them, they finally made it back home, but Victorique had been listless all week, and had even stopped going to the library, a daily routine of hers. Every day Kazuya went to Victorique’s special dormitory located behind a flowerbed maze to check on her.

Catching the sound of Kazuya’s footsteps down the hallway, Sophie’s ears twitched. The dorm mother was in the large kitchen on the first floor, with her sleeves rolled up. Cream, lemon, and flour were all around her. A grin appeared on her freckled face. Her red ponytail swung as she dashed out into the hallway, her beautiful legs showing through her matching red dress.

Coming down the stairs, Kazuya was just passing by the kitchen. He looked as stubborn as ever, though with a somewhat timid expression on his face and a slightly slumped posture. The corridors were full of children of the nobility on this sunny weekend, chatting among themselves. As Kazuya weaved his way through the students, Sophie grabbed him and pulled him into the kitchen.

“Got you!”

Wearing a grave look, Kazuya inadvertently let out a girly yelp. He turned red.

“Oh, it’s just you,” he said. “For the record, I wasn’t startled.”

“It’s okay. I meant to startle you.”

“Boys don’t scream over something like this—”

“Here you go.”

“Huh? What’s this?”

Sophie handed Kazuya a bowl of freshly extracted cream and gestured for him to stir it.

Kazuya looked puzzled. “I, uhh… gotta go to the library and see my friend.”

“Help me out here, okay?” Sophie pressed. “I don’t have a lot of time. I’m supposed to have a tea party with Cecile this afternoon, but I couldn’t make the cake in time.”

“A tea party with Ms. Cecile?” Kazuya nodded. “That sounds fun.”

“It is fun. Cecile is so good at mimicking the headmaster and the chairman. I don’t know how she’s so good at that. Come on. Don’t think, just stir.”

“But I…”

Sophie juggled three glistening yellow lemons. She tossed one into the air, deftly caught it, then tossed the next one.

She grinned at Kazuya. “We’re making lemon cake! It tastes like first love, sweet and sour.”

“First love…”

Holding the bowl with both hands, Kazuya’s face turned a little red.

“That’s right. I’ll give you half when it’s done. Okay?”

“Half?!”

Kazuya immediately put on a serious face and began stirring the cream in a steady, methodical motion. Sophie studied his face quizzically, wondering if he ever loved cake. He was even humming a tune while stirring the cream. His earnestness paid off as the cream turned splendidly smooth, smelling like sweet vanilla.

Kazuya’s humming drifted through the kitchen. Sophie started singing a cheerful Irish folk song along with him. The kitchen was filled with the sweet aroma of a cake nearing completion and strange songs.

---

An hour later…

“This cake looks incredibly delicious. I’m sure that mean, moody little devil Victorique will be happy. Mysteries are good and all, but she just collapses when she gets too hungry. Cake, cake!”

Kazuya was walking through the garden, back straight, holding a plate of lemon cake with both hands.

Squirrels occasionally scuttled across the white gravel path, squeaking.

“Cake, cake…”

He stepped onto the grass to get to the library faster.

“Kujou!” reprimanded an adorable, childish voice.

Kazuya stopped dead in his tracks. “I’m sorry! Wait. I apologized without even knowing what I did wrong. I need to keep my wits about me. What is it?”

A woman crouching on the lawn, holding a tiny kid’s shovel, was frowning at him. It was Ms. Cecile, with her shoulder-length brown hair and round glasses. Her large, slightly droopy, puppy-dog eyes were moist.

Ms. Cecile pointed at a spot on the grass. “Watch for the violets!”

“Violets? Oh, sorry. I didn’t notice.”

A few violet flowers were blooming there. She was swinging her arms around, holding a shovel in one hand, and what seemed like flower seeds in the other. She was angry.

“Why do boys not notice these little flowers?”

“I’m sorry. I’m not exactly refined.”

“But when it comes to manual labor, young men are the best for the job. My arms are getting tired.”

“I agree. Young men are indeed… Wait. Did you say manual labor?”

Kazuya found himself being handed a shovel and forced to dig in the dirt.

“Dig here. And also here,” Ms. Cecile said sternly. “We’re going to make a flowerbed here. That should prevent people from stepping on the flowers.”

Kazuya planted seeds in the holes.

The autumn wind blew. Leaves fell slowly onto the grass.

“Make sure you fill the holes back once you’re done planting the seeds.”

“Yes, Teach.”

“…”

“You can’t have the cake. It’s for Victorique.”

“Oh, you were watching.”

Ms. Cecile quickly pulled her hand back from the plate. There was a gulp.

“One bite.”

“No!”

“You there!” A loud, guttural voice sounded.

Kazuya and Ms. Cecile looked over their shoulders.

The large, old gardener came running up to them. His skin was thick as leather, his tanned face crimson.

“What are you two doing, digging holes?! So you’re the ones who made all those flowerbeds! Digging and digging, ruining all the effort I put on this garden. Get back here, Cecile!”

Kazuya turned and saw Ms. Cecile scurrying away at full speed, hands in the air.

“Teach!” Kazuya tried to follow her, but he was carrying a cake. And he couldn’t turn his back to the angry gardener. So he stayed behind.

“I-I’m sorry!” he said, bending at the waist at a ninety-degree angle. “I’ll fix it.”

The gardener was taken aback. “No, it’s fine. I bet it was all Cecile’s idea anyway. She’s still as fast as ever. She hasn’t changed since she was a student.” He sighed.

More leaves slowly fell around Kazuya.

---

“Phew. Talk about bad luck. Will I even make it to Victorique’s place today?”

Holding the plate of cake, Kazuya started walking toward the library, when he spotted a girl with short blonde hair lying on the bench.

“Ah!” he yelped.

Her long, radiant legs extending through her school uniform glistened in the autumn sun. Her eyes, clear as the blue sky, were wide open as she read the newspaper. The words “Sir Bradley Jr. Finally Completes the London Subway!” were printed on the front page in huge letters.

Sensing trouble, Kazuya proceeded stealthily. As he slowly walked past the bench, a little squirrel with a mouth full of nuts stopped and looked up at him, tilting its head. Its tiny body, round and cute eyes, and expressionless, yet adorable face brought a chuckle from Kazuya. The squirrel let out a small squeak, then climbed up Kazuya’s pants.

“Ahaha… That tickles. Ah, get out of my back. Oh, it’s out. Oh, crap!”

He saw that the girl with short blonde hair and blue eyes—Avril Bradley— had risen from the bench and was staring at him with her round eyes.

“Hello, Avril,” Kazuya greeted uneasily.

“You’re…”

“Nice weather we’re having, huh? See you later.”

“Carrying a cake…”

“So anyway, I’m uh… in a bit of a hurry…”

“You’re carrying a cake and you’re in a hurry…?”

Avril’s eyebrow rose. Kazuya took a step back.

Slowly, Avril folded the newspaper and placed it on her head, for some reason.

She’s putting stuff on her head again, Kazuya thought with trepidation.

Avril sometimes put weird things on her head. The golden skull, for one. She also acted strange, getting angry and chasing after him, or running away. For reasons that Kazuya found completely absurd.

“I get it,” she said. “You’re taking the cake to the Gray Wolf. Not on my watch!”

“Wh-Why not?! Why do you care so much about Victorique? Ow! D-Did you just throw a rock at me? That’s dangerous.”

“Wait!”

Unsure what was going on, Kazuya scurried away like Cecile did, the squirrel riding on his shoulder, and headed straight to St. Marguerite’s Grand Library. Opening the leather swinging door, he jumped inside, and locked the door. For a while Avril kept shouting outside.

“Come out here! Kujou, you dummy!”

Eventually, quiet returned.

Kazuya breathed a sigh as he sank to the floor, still holding the plate of cake.

Relieved, he looked up at the ceiling. Majestic fresco paintings glittered far above on the high ceiling. The huge bookshelves that covered the walls of the library seemed to bend a little and peer at him, asking him what was wrong. Feeling insignificant, Kazuya sighed.

Victorique was not in the library again today. There was no sign of any living thing from the secret conservatory atop the intricate, labyrinthine stairs.

I guess she’s still in her little dorm behind the flowerbeds. It looked like she was feeling a lot better. Kazuya stood up. I should bring another book to the candy house.

“I wonder, though,” he mumbled. “Why did I run into so much trouble on my way to Victorique? What a weird day.”

He started up the meandering stairs.

“One book should do. She must be bored.”

A few steps up the stairs, the squirrel on his shoulder jumped over to the bookshelf, causing a book to fall on Kazuya’s head.

“Ouch! Not the book’s spine… Almost dropped the cake. Let’s see here.”

Before he put the book back on the shelf, he flipped through the pages.

“What do we have here? ‘Beatrice’s Yellow Flower Garden. Biography of a Businesswoman Who Made a Fortune from Edelweiss’. Sounds interesting.”

He read for a while, nodding to himself. The squirrel on his shoulder was also peering at the pages, as though reading with him.

“So this woman named Beatrice worked hard to make flowerbeds in the ancient past. Then she made a fortune out of it. Hmm… I guess girls really are into flowers. Ms. Cecile was fired up about making a flowerbed.”

Kazuya closed the book and tucked it under his arm. Carrying the plate of cake, he went down the stairs.

“Cake, and a book,” he told the squirrel. “I’ll pick some flowers, then I can finally see Victorique. And it only took a lot of effort.”

The squirrel squeaked happily in response.