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The Hares and the Hound – Part 05

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Translator: Kell

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Kazuya saw that Maurice was pointing the muzzle at Victorique. “M-Mr. Maurice! Why her?! You said it yourself. Victorique isn’t the culprit, that she’s a real noble!”

“I don’t know what’s what anymore. Fortunately, I have six bullets. I’ll kill you all and get out of this ship alone!”

“What?!”

“This ship is sinking soon anyway. All the evidence will be sitting on the ocean floor. Just like ten years ago!”

Kazuya stood in front of Victorique, face to face with the gun’s muzzle. He began to break out in a cold sweat. He gritted his teeth, his legs trembling.

Victorique poked him from behind. “Kujou, what are you doing?” she asked nonchalantly.

“I-I-Isn’t it obvious? I-I-I’m protecting you from the evil bullets!”

“You will die.”

“M-M-Maybe. B-B-But you will live.”

“Makes sense.”

“I-I’m the one who invited you outside. I have to get you back alive. As the third son of an Imperial soldier, I have that responsibility.”

The image of his solemn father, always with his back straight, and his two older brothers, who looked exactly like their father, flashed in his mind. One sunny afternoon, they took him to the neighborhood dojo they attended. Kazuya was suddenly thrown to the floor by an adult. Lacking the courage to face them, Kazuya crawled on the dojo’s white tatami floor, tears welling in his eyes. A boy, on the verge of crying. He felt sad and frustrated. He remembered the disappointed looks on his brothers’ faces as they stared at the failure that he was.

“Spoiled because he’s the youngest,” someone had muttered back then. It must have been one of the grownups watching. The casual remark left a lasting pain in his heart.

“S-So…” He looked at her with a serious face.

Victorique’s big, green eyes regarded him.

For the first time, Kazuya saw astonishment on her face. Every time he told her about some strange incident, she happily jumped at the mystery—the chaos, so to speak. She would look a little surprised every time.

But the expression she had now was completely different. She looked genuinely shocked, as if she had found something unusual and was observing it intently.

“Kujou, are you perhaps a good person?” she asked.

“What…? Are you complimenting me?”

“No.”

“Are you mocking me, then?”

“I am simply stating a fact. What are you getting all worked up about?”

Kazuya was getting pissed.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out.

Kazuya instinctively hunched over and covered Victorique. He closed his eyes tightly as he let out a yelp.

Memories of his life flashed through his mind. His childhood—growing up watching his brilliant brothers, studying hard to be just like them. His departure to study abroad. The days he spent at St. Marguerite Academy. And the fateful, irreversible, shocking encounter with Victorique.

Huh?

Kazuya wasn’t dead.

When he slowly opened his eyes, he saw Victorique twisting around.

“I can’t breathe,” she said. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“I just saved your life! How about a thank you?!” Kazuya let go of Victorique.

Maurice was lying on his back with a black hole on his forehead. He had died with a shocked look on his face.

Kazuya turned around and saw Julie on one knee, holding a small pistol. The hem of her red dress was open, revealing a bit of her radiant bare legs.

Wearing a blank expression, she lowered the gun and stood up.

“I found one too,” she explained herself. “It was hidden behind a lamp on the wall. I didn’t know why it was there, so I didn’t say anything.”

Ned approached Maurice’s body with a dark look. He picked up the gun and threw it toward the bottom of the stairs, to the rising seawater.

After a splash, the gun made one ominous bubbling sound before sinking.

Ned looked back at Julie. “Throw your gun, too.”

“What?!”

“We already suspect each other as it is. Having a gun will only make us kill each other. I threw it away. You should, too.”

“But…”

“Unless you have a reason for wanting to carry a weapon?”

Julie clicked her tongue. She tossed the small gun at the bottom of the stairs. Splash.

She clicked her tongue once more. “Let’s go. To the radio room.”

As she resumed climbing the stairs, her handbag slipped from her hand. Victorique picked it up.

Oh? Kazuya cocked his head. Was Victorique kind enough to pick up something that someone else dropped?

Not having any intention of handing it over properly, she tossed the handbag to Julie. It flew softly in the air. Julie caught it and started up the stairs again.

The three of them followed suit.

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With each step up the stairs, water dripped from their wet clothes.

Kazuya cast Victorique a sidelong glance. She was the only one who stayed dry, but her fine lace, frills, and silk socks were now blackened with dirt. He felt both sorry and ashamed. Victorique—ever dignified, revered, and awe-inspiring—was always calmly leafing through books in the library’s garden. Now she was in a sinking ship, covered in filth.

Kazuya squeezed her hand tight.

Victorique looked at him, bewildered. “I’ve been wondering,” she said.

“About what?”

“You were wailing about being the third son of an imperial soldier.”

“I was, yes.”

“Is there any special significance to being the third son?”

“…Excuse me?!”

Kazuya shook off Victorique’s hand. His enraged expression took her by surprise.

“Wh-What are you angry about?”

“Good person this, third son that. Are you trying to pick a fight?!”

“N-No, I’m not. I was simply stating a fact. My brain perceived it as a fragment of chaos.”

“I may be the third son, but I’ll have you know, my academic record is better than my brothers’.”

They were not on the same page.

“In your country, are brilliant third sons promoted to eldest?” she asked.

“No… It was just pride. My brothers always got preferential treatment, so I thought I’d fight back by putting my nose to the grindstone.”

But Kazuya felt that all of his efforts went down the drain the day he was knocked down at the dojo. This was also the reason why he jumped at the chance to quit military academy and study at Sauville. He completed the paperwork before his family, including his loving mother and sister, could stop him, packed his belongings, and boarded a ship. It was as if he was running away from his country, his family, himself.

Now he was here.

“Hmm…” Victorique nodded. After a momentary silence, she said in a soft tone, “The nobility in this country is the same. The eldest son succeeds as head of the family.”

Victorique’s face took on an odd expression again. She looked up at Kazuya, as though she was observing something unusual. “Pride, huh?” she murmured.

“…Hmm?”

“Kujou, you’re not only a good person. You’re also honest.”

“What?”

“You can admit to being proud. You have a simple and beautiful soul.”

“Is that a compliment? Or a roundabout way of saying I’m stupid?”

Victorique regarded Kazuya curiously. She then turned her face away and fell silent. Her cheeks were puffed up like a squirrel with its mouth full of nuts. It was the face she made when she was sulking.

Their back and forth could just be Victorique’s way of complimenting Kazuya, or perhaps she was trying to thank him for protecting her. Either way, she was simply expressing her feelings in a way. Meanwhile, Kazuya kept mumbling to himself.

“How silly,” Victorique said sourly. “I’m simply stating a fact. Verbalizing the reconstructed fragment of chaos.” She went silent once more, leaving Kazuya stumped.

Victorique had suddenly turned grumpy. Kazuya thought she was mad at him, though he didn’t exactly know why.

The four of them walked up the stairs in silence.

Even in the dark, Ned was still deftly throwing and catching the tennis ball. He turned onto the dark landing and slowly disappeared.

The next instant, there was a thud, followed by what sounded like a yelp.

Kazuya and Julie shared looks.

“…Ned?” Julie called gingerly.

There was no answer.

“What’s wrong?” Kazuya asked.

The stairwell was silent.

Kazuya and Julie looked at each other again, then ran up the stairs. As they stepped onto the poorly-lit landing, an unexpected scene greeted them.

Ned was lying on the floor, dead.

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