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The Traveler Who Arrives in Spring Brings Death to the Academy – Part 05

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Translator: Kell

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Kazuya tottered out of the library. The riveted, leather door slammed shut behind him.

As he stood dazed on the grass, two men wearing hunting caps came skipping along the gravel path toward him. Inspector Grevil de Blois’s men. Holding each other’s hands, they passed by Kazuya, but then out of curiosity, came skipping backward toward him.

“Kujou. Feeling down?”

“Yeah,” Kazuya said firmly.

The men exchanged glances and laughed.

“Um, am I really getting arrested?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow,” they said clearly and decisively. Kazuya buried his head in his hands. “There’s no other suspects besides you.”

“Besides, we can’t defy Inspector Blois.”

“What does that mean?”

They exchanged looks.

“Hmm…. Actually, he didn’t graduate from the police academy. He’s the son of some noble. He wanted to do police work, so he was given a post at the village’s police station.”

“We’re his chaperones, but he can be a little pushy.”

“Nobles, am I right?”

It was shocking news to Kazuya.

“But you know,” one of them added, “he can sometimes determine who the culprit is. He says weird things at first, then the next day, he suddenly gives brilliant deductions like he’s a completely different person.”

“Yup,” the other agreed. “Maybe he’s a genius.”

“Hahaha!”

The men skipped away, laughing merrily. Kazuya watched them go, mouth hanging open, then sighed when he remembered the trouble he was in.

Argh, to hell with nobles and geniuses!

He walked away grumpily.

Clouds hid the sun a little, making it chilly. The wind also felt cold. The path back to the dormitory was so quiet that it felt as if there was no one else in the school but Kazuya.

He had to go back to his room and dig through the package that his family sent. He had to find food that would please the princess.

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The next morning, the sky was filled with nothing but ominous gray clouds that made yesterday’s fine weather seem implausible.

Shortly after seven in the morning, someone knocked on Kazuya’s room in the boys’ dormitory. He had just finished washing his face and combing his hair. Putting on his tie, Kazuya opened the door, and saw the dorm mother looking worried, her red hair swaying.

“Kujou!” she cried. “I heard you got in some serious trouble yesterday. I’m sorry. It’s my fault for asking you to run that errand.”

“It’s all right. How was breakfast yesterday?”

“I got an earful.” The dorm mother hung her head.

Kazuya held something in front of her mouth. It was a bag full of small pink, orange, and yellow balls that she had never seen before.

The dorm mother sniffed the bag. “What is this?”

“Snacks. What do you think?”

“What do I think? It looks delicious.”

“Great. I’ll bring this one, then.” Kazuya nodded in relief.

Before the door closed, the dorm mother glanced around the room, and frowned curiously. Kazuya’s room, belonging to a neat and tidy honor student, was cluttered with piles of stuff that he had apparently taken out.

What in the world is he up to? The dorm mother wondered as she walked away.

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Kazuya went to class carefully carrying a bag of sweets in his hands. After searching through the packages sent by his family all night, he finally found some snacks that he thought girls would like. He walked under the cloudy sky toward the majestic, U-shaped school building. As he entered the classroom, the children of aristocracy, as usual, kept their distance, stealing glances at him.

Kazuya stared at the empty seat by the window, unconcerned. There was no sign of her coming to class today either.

Yeah, I thought so. I guess I’ll have to go to the library during lunch break.

Suddenly, he heard a man and a woman’s voice coming from down the hallway, arguing.

“This is tyranny!” the woman yelled.

The man laughed. “Aha! But I brought an arrest warrant with me today. For the murder of a government official by an exchange student. This will definitely cause a diplomatic issue.”

Kazuya jumped to his feet. Inspector Blois had arrived sooner than he had expected. And he actually brought a warrant of arrest.

With the bag of candy in his arms, Kazuya opened the classroom window. Closing his eyes, he jumped out, ignoring the students’ clamoring. Being an earnest and straight-laced person, this was, of course, the first time in his life that he had ever left a classroom by any exit other than the door.

Feeling quite shaken, he landed and rolled across the lawn.

Ouch!

He heard murmurs from the classroom overhead. Words that seemed to pour salt all over his wounds.

“The Reaper has escaped!”

Kazuya glared at the classroom.

Damn it. They really do call me the Reaper behind my back!

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Kazuya scrambled into the large library and ran up the labyrinthine stairs.

Solemn religious paintings were staring down on Kazuya from high above. And today, too, a golden band of some sorts was hanging down from the railing, swaying invitingly from time to time in the breeze.

“Victorique!” he called.

When Kazuya arrived at the conservatory, he found Victorique looking exactly as she did yesterday, surrounded by plants and boredly skimming through books spread in a circle around her. He ran up to her, panting hard.

Victorique lifted her head. “Oh, you’re back,” she mumbled, puffing on her pipe languidly. “You must feel lonely not having any friends.”

“It’s not funny.”

Kazuya sat down on the spot, dejected. “Anyway, remember yesterday? You promised me.”

“What did I say again?”

“Your reasoning! You said you’d tell me the truth behind the murder!”

Victorique gaped at Kazuya for a moment, then nodded when she finally remembered. She held out her small hand.

Kazuya sighed and placed the bag of snacks in her palm. Victorique opened the bag with surprising glee.

She chewed on one. “What is this?”

“They’re sweet rice crackers.”

“A curious flavor.”

“…”

She chewed.

“…”

And chewed.

“Um… hello?”

Victorique ate the exotic food with the adorable motion of a critter. She seemed to be very interested in the food’s shape and unusual taste. She grabbed one with her tiny hand, popped it in her mouth, and chewed. She did this repeatedly.

Kazuya waited impatiently for Victorique to remember him.

He was getting worried now.

Why am I putting my hopes on this girl? Now that I think about it, I don’t even know who she is, or if she even knows the truth of the case. What if she just said that because she wanted food?

Far down in the hall, footsteps entered. Kazuya glanced down, and jumped.

He saw a golden pointy head. Inspector Blois. He saw Kazuya too, and hurried deeper inside. There was a hydraulic elevator that only faculty and staff were allowed to use.

Clang.

There was a rattle, and the steel cage rose higher and higher.

Kazuya was on the verge of tears. “It’s gonna be a diplomatic issue!” he shouted.

Victorique stopped her hand and glanced at Kazuya. He was shaking.

“My father will kill me!” he cried. “No, I’m gonna get hanged before he even gets his hands on me! I’m gonna die in a foreign land! Nooo!”

Victorique’s mouth dropped. She stared wearily at Kazuya for a while.

“The Reaper’s crying,” she murmured with a devilish grin.

Kazuya turned around. “Leave me alone!”

“I’m joking.”

“Joking?! A person’s life is at stake here! There are some things you just can’t joke about… Why are you smiling? Wipe that grin off your face!”

The more Kazuya grumbled, the wider Victorique’s grin became.

“Relax,” she said.

“Relax? You want me to relax in this situation?! Why? What good would that do? I’d rather start running. Run as far as I can!”

Kazuya’s face turned redder with each moan.

The steel cage was coming up.

Victorique stopped smiling. “You’re too loud,” she said with exasperation. “Fine. I’ll explain it right now.”

“Hurry up, then!” Kazuya stamped his feet.

Nonchalantly smoking her pipe, Victorique said, “Listen closely. You don’t have to be on the motorcycle or anywhere near it to decapitate its rider.”

“Why?” Kazuya sobbed.

“Because the rider provides all the speed you need.”

Another sob. “What do you mean?”

Composure returned to Kazuya’s face. His innate diligence emerged, and he sat up straight, trying to understand Victorique’s explanation.

Victorique stretched out her slender arms to her sides. “What do you think would happen if you place a wire or something in the motorcycle’s path? In an empty street, where the rider is sure to pass through. As the motorcycle passes it at high speed, the wire will decapitate the rider. All the culprit has to do is retrieve the wire and leave.”

Kazuya gaped at Victorique. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and took a deep breath. “I-I see…”

“Ahuh.”

“But, uh… what about proof?”

Victorique calmly puffed her pipe. “There’s a possibility that the culprit was forced to flee the scene because you were around and started screaming. No one’s supposed to be out there so early in the morning. Perhaps the culprit failed to retrieve the wire.”

The steel cage screeched, and after an ominous silence, stopped with a loud clang.

The iron door opened.

Beyond the overgrown greenery, an inspector with a strange, drill-shaped hair was striking a pose.

But when Inspector Blois saw Victorique and Kazuya face-to-face in the conservatory, his eyes widened in astonishment.

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