1

Undercover investigation. Surveillance. Sometimes personal security.

These were Echo’s main duties as Vincent Nightray’s valet. If Vincent told her to go, she’d go anywhere, and if Vincent told her to observe someone, she’d watch them no matter who they were. If Vincent said to investigate, she’d investigate absolutely anything.

There were many people around Vincent who took his orders and acted on them, but for particularly secret activities, no one was better than Echo. That meant that when Echo received an order to investigate, the matter was one for which failure was not an option.

Of course, Echo had no intention of failing in any case. No matter how difficult the order, she had to carry it out and bring back the result Vincent wanted, full stop. Echo was well aware that this was the only thing that gave her existence value.

As a result, she’d never objected to any order, had never complained, and had never even thought of giving up.

She was a doll.

She considered herself a doll that moved as her master wished her to.

But.

Th-this is…awful…

In one of the guest rooms at the Silver Moon Garden salon, Echo was shivering all over. The room held several aristocratic guests who were seated around tables, wearing fanciful costumes and chatting happily. Their eyes were turned eagerly on Echo.

The nobles sent compliments and demands at her, one after another.

“All right, twirl for us once, right where you are.”

“Make sure your skirt flares out. That’s key.”

“Don’t forget to give us a ‘Meow ’ at the end.”

“Yes, and look a bit embarrassed when you say it. I must have that.”

Echo, who was dressed in a maid costume with a cat-ears headband, remained outwardly calm, but mentally, she was already close to her limit.

If someone would give her just ten seconds, she thought, she’d happily carve up these aristocrats right this instant.

However, unfortunately, she couldn’t do that.

Why not? Because, at present, Echo was in the middle of waiting on customers as a server at Silver Moon Garden.

She couldn’t understand it.

According to what Vincent had told her, Silver Moon Garden was a high-class salon with traditions and status.

…And yet, the scene that was playing out in front of Echo was far from words like “tradition” and “status.”

“What are you doing, girl? Go on, spin. Make it energetic. Go!”

As the nobles urged her on, Echo couldn’t help wondering to herself:

Why is this happening to Echo…?

She didn’t even have to think about it. She knew why. Her master, Vincent Nightray, had ordered it.

Infiltrate Silver Moon Garden as a server and investigate the head of the Basil family, who would appear as a customer.

Echo hadn’t heard the name Basil before. Apparently he was a low-ranking noble whom Vincent had been investigating for a little while. “An obnoxious fly,” he’d called him.

Vincent had also said, “At the longest, this will be settled in three days…”

Twice every month, a special event was held at Silver Moon Garden, running for three days each time. He’d said that Basil was certain to appear at the salon at some point during those three days.

He hadn’t told her what went on during the special event. If Vincent wasn’t inclined to talk about it, Echo didn’t have the right to question him, but now she regretted not having asked anyway. …Although it was true that, even if she’d known, there would have been nothing she could do about it.

Today was the first of the three days.

“S-sir…”

Forcing down her disgust, Echo managed to squeeze the words out:

“This salon does not provide that sort of entertainment. —If you’ll excuse me.”

She bowed slightly, turned on her heel, and left the room, hearing the dissatisfied voices of the aristocrats behind her. Once she was in the corridor, her shoulders drooped. “…Whew.” She gave a tired sigh, leaning lightly against the wall. Then she let out another weary breath.

Vampires and pumpkin-headed monsters and walking carrots passed her in the corridor. It made one wonder what sort of haunted house this was.

“‘The Sport of the Masks’—” Echo murmured, quietly.

That was the special event’s official name. Apparently the salon owner had named it.

“…How pompous. It’s just a costume party.”

No matter how hard she tried, the words came out sounding like a complaint.

“Tee-hee. Not used to this yet, are you, ‘Eiko’-chan.”

A woman’s voice spoke from beside her. Echo came very close to retorting, “It’s Echo” on reflex, but she swallowed the words back just in time. The woman wasn’t wrong, she remembered. She wasn’t Echo right now. She was here under the alias “Eiko.”

She looked in the direction of the voice. The woman who was the head server at Silver Moon Garden was standing there. She wore a black robe with a long train, and there was a pointy hat on her head. In her hand, she held a priest’s staff with a crystal ball at its tip. She looked like a first-rate witch.

“I had some trouble adjusting, too, the first year I started working here. I’m used to it now, as you’d expect.”

The head server smiled wryly. Echo had heard that she was thirty-one years old and married.

In front of guests, she was a model server whose work was accurate and strict. However, when there were no guests around, she was easygoing and informal with her coworkers, and it felt easy to make friends with her. The other servers seemed to consider her highly reliable.

Echo looked steadily at the head server.

“Echo… Eiko would have preferred that costume.”

She spoke enviously (although she almost called herself “Echo,” as was her habit).

As an outfit to wear when serving guests, a witch costume was still ridiculous, but she thought it was significantly better… No, several times better than a cat-eared maid.

“Oh, but there’s nothing wrong with yours. It looks good on you, Eiko-chan.”

“That doesn’t make Eiko happy at all.”

Echo answered in an indifferent tone that had an edge of weariness to it.

As Vincent had ordered, Echo had begun working at this high-class salon that morning. As a new server, Echo had been trained by this woman, the head server, and her very first job had been…choosing a costume. Although it had been called “a choice,” all the innocuous costumes had been taken earlier by other servers, and Echo hadn’t really had a choice.

From what she’d heard, Basil, the target of her investigation, would definitely appear at some point during these three days. Perhaps his hobby was dressing up. She had no intention of finding fault with other people’s hobbies, but Echo didn’t share his enthusiasm, and it was a nuisance.

“Well, shall we go back to the dressing room for a bit?”

At the head server’s prompting, Echo said, “Yes” and nodded, giving a small, relieved sigh at the idea that she’d be able to take a break. As the head server started walking, taking the lead, she spoke:

“It’s about time to change costumes, too.”

“………Beg pardon?”

Echo cocked her head, puzzled. She hadn’t quite caught the head server’s words.

Seeing her, the woman responded, “Didn’t I mention that?

“It’s a rule. During the Sport of the Masks, servers change costumes at regular intervals.”

“……………………”

Echo trailed silently after the head server.

In her head, she was already thinking of the journal entry she’d write that night. Ordinarily, she carried her journal around with her, writing down the various things she saw, but of course she didn’t take it along when she was undercover. She was planning to write down everything at once when she returned to the manor, and the day’s entry was shaping up to be a long one.

Half of it would be grumbling about Vincent, who’d sent her into Silver Moon Garden, and the other half would be criticism and complaints about the salon owner and the aristocratic clientele. If the head of the Basil family didn’t appear today, she’d probably direct some hostile words his way as well.

She wanted to hurry up and finish her investigation and leave this place. From the bottom of her heart.

Frankly, tonight’s journal entry will probably be Echo’s longest ever.

She was sure of it.

And then…

When the head server and Echo reached the dressing room, new costumes were waiting for them.

“……………………………………………………………………………”

Echo’s silence grew even deeper.

Two new costumes were displayed in the dressing room. The owner had probably added them while Echo and the head server were working. “Wow…” Beside the speechless Echo, the head server gave an exclamation that could have been either impressed or appalled.

She walked over to the costumes that hung on hangers on the wall and pointed to them one after the other with her staff, making sure of the count.

Then she turned back to Echo.

“All right, Eiko-chan, which will it be? You can have first pick.”

“The one you’re wearing. The witch costume. ”

With no hesitation, Echo pointed to the head server’s costume. However, the woman gave her a wry, pitying smile.

“I’m sorry; it’s already spoken for. This is a popular costume.”

Everyone was thinking the same thing. The other servers had their sights set on the safe costumes as well. Reality was merciless.

“You first,” the head server said, prompting Echo.

…There was no help for it. Reality was merciless, and fate was cruel. Echo had just two costumes to choose from.

They were:

A fur worn by a savage from an untamed land (very revealing).

A full-body, poisonous horned frog suit (sort of slimy).

Two extreme, worst-possible choices.

 

2

“Know what, Echo? They say if you have the same dream three times, it will come true.”

Vincent had said this to Echo on the morning of her second day undercover at the Silver Moon Garden salon, before she’d left the Nightray manor.

The moment she’d heard it, her heart had flip-flopped. She hadn’t told Vincent about the dreams she’d had over the past two days. Even so, he’d said this. Had it been coincidence, or…? Echo tried to think, then came to the conclusion that thinking about it would do no good.

She’d tried to understand her master many times, and she’d never once succeeded.

Right now, she decided, it was more important to concentrate on ending her investigation as quickly as possible.

The Sport of the Masks—the costume party—was still going on.

Silver Moon Garden was a European-style, two-story mansion that stood quietly in a district of aristocratic residences. By the time she reached it, fatigue was already weighing heavily on her back. Servers used the rear entrance. Feeling sick and tired, Echo went around to the back of the mansion.

The sky was clear.

The wind was a bit on the strong side today.

She passed through the small gate at the back, then walked to the mansion’s back door. As she opened it, she said, “…Good morning,” in a subdued voice.

As she did so, in a corner of her mind, she wondered whether she’d have the same dream again that night.

“Good morning, Eiko-chan. You’re a little late.”

When Echo entered the servers’ dressing room, the head server was waiting for her. She’d already changed into her costume. She’d flung a black cape over her shoulders, and toy fangs peeked out of her mouth; they seemed to make it just a little hard for her to talk. It was a vampire disguise, apparently.

The words “You’re a little late” gave Echo a bad feeling. Nervously, she responded:

“Eiko arrived earlier than yesterday…”

“Everyone else has already been and gone.”

During the three days of the Sport of the Masks, the head server explained, all the servers who worked at the salon practically raced to see who could get to work first.

Servers who actively enjoyed the event did it so they could choose a costume they liked. Servers who didn’t, did it so they could choose costumes that were slightly less heinous.

Echo hadn’t known about this. The head server spoke simply:

“There’s only one costume left for you, Eiko-chan.”

“…………………Again?”

“Again.” The head server nodded.

This was exactly what had happened yesterday. Yesterday, as today, they’d told her to “choose a costume,” but all she’d been able to do was take the last remaining one. Thanks to that, she’d ended up having to wear the humiliating maid and cat-ears headband costume.

“…I see,” Echo murmured. Her expression was as gloomy as it could possibly get.

What sort of ridiculous getup would she be forced into today?

The head server brought out the costume she’d been holding behind her back and spoke cheerfully:

“Ta-daaa! This is your first costume for today, Eiko-chan!”

At the sight of the costume being flourished right in front of her, Echo’s eyes widened slightly. At first glance, it was fairly sedate for a costume, a practically normal outfit.

If all the servers had competed to take the least embarrassing costumes for themselves, it seemed strange that this should have been the last one left. It was a full suit of clothes—a jacket and trousers—and its basic color was white.

Echo’s seen this somewhere before, Echo thought.

“It’s the Lutwidge Academy uniform. …The boys’ version.”

As Echo murmured, the head server nodded. “That’s right.”

It was the uniform of the school attended by Elliot, the Nightray family’s son, and Ada Vessalius, the woman Vincent was seeing.

The head server continued with a vaguely faraway look in her eyes:

“Lots of the servers who work here are in their late twenties or somewhere in their thirties, you know. I’m thirty-one myself.”

“…Yes.” Echo looked blank. She had no idea what this was about.

“Even if it is a famous school everyone wishes they’d gone to, it would’ve been too awkward for any of them to wear a school uniform. It would’ve looked…you know…sort of pathetic…”

The woman seemed to feel this deeply, but Echo only tilted her head, perplexed; she didn’t really understand.

The head server was looking at Echo as if she was somehow dazzling, and her expression was a bit envious. True, never having attended school, Echo did feel some slight resistance to donning a school uniform, but…compared with the barbarian fur and the poisonous horned frog suit, it was a hundred— No, a thousand times better.

Even when it was time to change costumes, if nobody wanted this one, she might get to wear it all day long.

Today might end up being a little easier than yesterday…

Once Echo had changed into the Lutwidge Academy boys’ uniform, cherishing that hope, the head server spoke to her:

“Wow, you look good in boys’ clothes, Eiko-chan.”

“…No.” Echo blushed very slightly.

“All right, then. First thing, could I have you take tea to the Lion Room on the second floor?”

“Excuse me?”

“They asked for you specifically. The guests who were here yesterday are here again, bright and early.

“They must’ve liked you,” the head server said, smiling mischievously. Echo’s hopes were shattered in an instant.

………………………………………………Things couldn’t be worse.

As Echo left the dressing room, her face was haggard and gaunt.

She had to go to the kitchen first, in order to make the tea. Just as it had yesterday, the hall bustled with servers in haunted-house costumes, and the variety of disguises seemed to have increased since the day before.

In addition to the costumes she’d seen yesterday, there were pirates and forest huntsmen and fairies.

Echo was beginning to get a headache.

She started unsteadily down the hall, one hand pressed to her forehead. —And then, from behind her:

Ka-clang ka-clang, ka-clang.

Hearing a metallic racket, Echo turned, perplexed…and sucked in her breath.

“?!”

Ka-clang ka-clang ka-clang ka-clang ka-clang ka-clang.

A big suit of armor was clanking and crashing its way down the hall.

From the top of its head to the tips of its toes, she couldn’t see the smallest bit of bare skin. It was full-body armor, made of thick metal plates put together in a complicated way; both arms and legs, the neck, chest, torso, and hips were completely covered. The full-face helmet hid the head entirely, and although there were thin slits for the eyes, it seemed hard to see out of.

This couldn’t possibly be a guest. It looked like a good, old-fashioned knight costume. The armored server seemed to be struggling with the weight of the armor and the bad visibility, and they wobbled this way and staggered that way as they made their way down the hall toward her.

Echo pressed close to the wall, waiting for the server to pass by. She watched the armor’s back as they tottered away, looking ready to topple over at any moment.

Can they even serve customers like that…?

She really didn’t think they could.

However, Echo wasn’t in any condition to worry about other servers’ service. She had to get the tea and hurry to the Lion Room, where the customers were waiting for her. Whether she wanted to go or not.

When she thought about what yesterday had been like, her heart felt heavy.

“Yes, yes-yes, good! Wonderful!”

“I liked the feminine maid look, but this boy look is nice, too. Quite gallant.”

“Hey, the best part is the sweetness within the gallantry.”

“True. You’d never get such a perfect androgynous feel with an actual boy.”

Today, once again, the aristocrats from the day before tumultuously traded opinions, this time on Echo’s boys’ school uniform.

A notice hung on the wall, apparently placed there at some point yesterday: PLEASE REFRAIN FROM MAKING UNREASONABLE DEMANDS OF THE SERVERS. There wasn’t a hint of “status” about this place anymore. However, possibly thanks to that sign, Echo wasn’t bothered with over-the-top requests the way she had been yesterday.

“W-well, then… If you’ll excuse me.”

Dizzied by the aristocrats’ enthusiasm and feeling suddenly fatigued, Echo left the Lion Room.

…This really is……awful…

She walked down the corridor, a little unsteadily. She’d be serving customers all day, and the day had only just begun. That alone was enough to make her light-headed, and if Basil again failed to appear today, she’d be here tomorrow as well. Just thinking about it doubled her fatigue.

Echo reached the head of the stairs and started down on feeble feet.

Echo will rest in the dressing room for a little while, she thought. If she didn’t, she’d never last.

—Just then.

Ka-clang! Behind her, at the top of the stairs, there was a violent, metallic noise. It was followed by a muffled voice saying, “Wah-wah-waaaah!”

On reflex, Echo turned.

She saw the big suit of armor. It was teetering on the very top step. Apparently the server had tried to go down and had stepped wrong. They were struggling in what looked like a strange dance, but in that heavy armor, there was no way they could regain their balance.

They were going to fall.

It would be absolutely impossible for the petite Echo to catch them.

“!”

Immediately, Echo tried to spring to the side to avoid them, but…

“Whoever’s there, get out of the way!”

She froze. That voice, the one that had come from the armor’s helmet.

She knew it, but it wasn’t a voice she should ever have heard in this situation, in a place like this.

Her surprise had slowed her reaction, and she wasn’t able to dodge the armor completely.

The armor came tumbling down from the upper floor, covering Echo, and they fell onto a landing between the first and second floors. For a moment, Echo’s mind seemed to sail far away, but there wasn’t much pain. She blinked several times, taking in the situation.

The armored server had just managed to plant their arms on the landing, to keep from crushing Echo.

Dazed, breathing raggedly, Echo gazed at the helmet right in front of her.

Those thin eye slits in the front of the helmet. Through them, she could see emerald eyes. From inside the helmet, a voice spoke, laced with surprise and worry:

“Huh? Eko-chan…?”

At the voice, Echo forgot to retort, “It’s Echo.” Instead, she spoke his name, too:

“—You’re…”

Why? How? She was enveloped in a storm of questions.

“If you have the same dream three times,” Echo’s master had said. …But she’d only had it twice so far.

And yet.

“Oz…sama?”

IN THE SERVERS’ DRESSING ROOM…

“Are you hurt anywhere, Eko-chan? Are you okay?”

Oz had gotten out of the armor with Echo’s help, and as he asked the question, his face was flooded with guilt. Echo, who had regained her composure, looked around, making sure there was no one except Oz and herself in the room, then retorted, “It’s Echo.”

At that routine exchange, Oz finally smiled. The two of them sat down in some of the chairs lined up along the dressing room wall.

Neither of them spoke right away. However, it was obvious that they were both wondering the same thing about each other.

Boldly, Echo opened her mouth:

“Why are you here, Oz-sama?”

“Why are you here, Eko-chan?”

Their voices overlapped perfectly. Once again, they fell silent.

How should Echo explain this? Echo thought, and thought, and thought.

“Echo is, um…working part-time.”

Even she thought it sounded fishy. At Echo’s words, Oz seemed dubious. “Hmm?”

Echo knew he wouldn’t buy it, Echo thought, but, unexpectedly, Oz spoke a little happily:

“Huh! That makes two of us, then.”

This time, it was Echo’s turn to say, “Huh?” In spite of herself, she stared back at Oz.

Part-time job. Work. Earning money.

As a son of one of the four great dukedoms, there was no way Oz needed to do any of those things. Everyone knew that. Oz must have sensed the obvious doubt in Echo’s mind. He gave a faint, wry smile, scratching the tip of his nose with a finger.

“Right, a part-time job. I wanted to earn some money on my own.”

Echo watched Oz, wordlessly. Oz looked up at the ceiling; he seemed a little embarrassed.

“Break referred me to this place. I don’t know anything about this sort of thing, so…”

“Xerxes Break…” Echo murmured.

“—Yeah. There was no one else I could talk to about it.”

“What about Gilbert-sama?”

Echo gave the name of Oz’s valet, but immediately thought she hadn’t really needed to ask. Echo knew Gilbert, too. If Oz had said he wanted to earn money on his own, that master-focused, worrywart Gilbert would only have objected.

As Echo had guessed, Oz said, “Gil doesn’t know.”

“I see.” Echo nodded.

She understood Oz’s story. However, there was something that still didn’t make sense to her. Oz had never been pressed for money in his life. What had made him want to earn it on his own?

Echo wanted to ask, but she hadn’t told him her own real reasons, and she was hesitant about one-sidedly asking him questions.

When Echo fell silent, Oz let his gaze wander through space for a short while. Then, smiling, he looked at Echo.

“Things you buy with your own money mean more, I think. It’s like…they’re the real thing.”

—The real thing.

Echo didn’t know what Oz’s “real thing” meant. However, from the sound of his words, she realized it was something important. “…You’re right,” she answered, simply, and she didn’t ask him anything else.

As Oz spoke, he folded his hands on top of his head.

“Still, that was a surprise. I never thought I’d meet you here, Eko-chan.”

Then, suddenly, he put his face very near Echo’s and beamed.

In spite of herself, Echo shrank back, freezing up. Oz continued, looking right at Echo:

“Aren’t coincidences like this great?”

“……Echo doesn’t really…”

As Echo answered, she averted her eyes slightly. She was blushing faintly.

“You know. The way it feels a little like fate.”

At Oz’s words, after a short pause, Echo spoke softly. “…No, it doesn’t.”

“You think?” Oz gave a light smile. For some reason, it made an emotion like irritation, or maybe chagrin, well up inside Echo, and she looked at him steadily, glaring. Oz said, “What’s the matter, Eko-chan?” His voice was easygoing, and his expression was curious.

Just as Echo put more force into her glare, there was a click, and the door of the dressing room opened.

“Oh, Oz-kun and Eiko-chan. Slacking? That’s no good.”

A voice that held the hint of a smile spoke, and the head server entered the dressing room. The woman was holding a big cardboard carton in her arms. Oz and Echo sprang to their feet, ducking their heads in apology. “We’re sorry.” Gesturing with her hand, the head server told them it was fine to sit down.

“If you don’t rest a bit while you work, you’ll never last. —I mean, really, you’re both new hires, and you got hit with this event right off the bat.”

“Eiko couldn’t agree more.”

Echo nodded decisively. However, in contrast, with a smile that practically shone, Oz shook his head.

“No, it’s not like that at all. I’m seriously moved!”

““Moved?”” Echo and the head server simultaneously cocked their heads.

Oz spoke with an expression that was innocence itself:

“I never thought working would be so much fun. ‘A job,’ huh… Everyone’s so lucky! They get to go to ‘jobs’ every day, don’t they!”

His excited tone would have made more sense if he’d said “party” instead of “job.” There wasn’t a shred of deceit mixed in with his words.

However, precisely because that was true, Echo fell silent. With a complicated expression on her face, she shot a glance at the head server. Giving a slightly forced smile, the head server murmured, “You’re very well-bred, aren’t you.” Echo wondered if she should attempt to smooth things over for Oz somehow.

Oz kept talking, still wearing that sparkling smile:

“And besides, all the servers who work here are beautiful ladies.”

Instantly, as if the remark had gone straight to her heart, the head server blushed. In a regretful voice, she said:

“If you’d like, Oz-kun, you can work here forever, but—”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I, um…”

“I know. The owner told me.”

Oz looked apologetic, and the head server giggled.

In a whisper, Oz told Echo, “Apparently Break is friends with the salon’s owner.” Friends with Break: That alone was enough to explain to Echo why this weird event dubbed “the Sport of the Masks” was held at a salon that had traditions and status.

It meant that like attracted like, and eccentrics attracted eccentrics.

“All right,” the head server said, as if to change the mood. She held out the cardboard carton.

“It’s about time for a costume change, you know. Here you go. This one’s brand-new; it just arrived.”

The head server explained that it was a full-body, cartoon-character costume. This reminded Echo of the poisonous horned frog costume, and her mood turned gloomy.

However, Oz’s eyes sparkled, and he ran up to the head server.

Taking the cardboard carton, he pulled out the folded costume and gave a little cheer.

“Whoa! Eko-chan, look, look!”

Oz turned to Echo, holding up the costume’s head and letting the folded body unfurl.

At his excited voice, Echo looked at it as if she was looking at something dangerous. She averted her face slightly, peeking at it out of the corner of narrowed eyes.

And then.

?!

In an instant, her eyes widened almost aggressively, and she stared at the costume as if drawn to it, clinging to it.

Her lips trembled slightly, and she spoke. Her voice wasn’t all that loud, but it was filled with excitement.

“That’s…Jyanta-san…”

What had appeared was the mascot character that was currently all the rage in Reveil, popular with men and women, young and old—a Jyanta-kun costume.

Involuntarily, Echo stood up from her chair with a clatter. Oz was holding the costume up in front of him, and it blocked his view, so he couldn’t see Echo. However, he must have sensed that something in the atmosphere was different. “Eko-chan…?” he called.

Standing beside Oz, the head server noticed the change in Echo and smiled mischievously.

“Want to wear it, Eiko-chan?”

Echo wasn’t able to answer that question right away.

 

3

There was a bright moon that night.

Echo was Vincent’s valet, and her room in the Nightray manor was in a place that really had to be called a “garret.” There was a plain, lonely-looking bed, and a handheld lantern on the floor. The light from the lantern dimly illuminated the room.

It was a dreary space with barely any furniture, but Echo had never minded.

Echo was lying on her bed, on her stomach, with her diary open on top of the cushion she used as a pillow. One of Echo’s hands held a pencil.

“Echo is also a bit sorry…”

Echo murmured the last line of the entry she’d written on a new page, as if tracing it.

“………”

Her eyes, which had been focused on the diary, slid slightly to the side. They came to rest on a single photograph that had been placed right next to the diary. The photo was turned facedown, and it wasn’t possible to see what was in it.

As she looked at the back of the photograph, Echo’s expression was as emotionless and inorganic as always.

“—Haaah.”

With a little sigh, Echo closed the diary firmly. She laid the photograph on top of it, set both beside her bed, then rolled over, lying on her back with her head on the cushion. She folded her hands on her stomach. Her eyes, which were looking straight up, were fixed on the skylight in the ceiling.

She could see the moon, shining brightly.

“…Today was rough all day again.”

Muttering to herself dispassionately, she thought back over the day. Inwardly, Echo murmured softly:

Maybe Echo did want to wear the Jyanta-san costume, too.

The words that had been spoken to her in the dressing room rose in her mind: “Want to wear it, Eiko-chan?”

“Want to wear it, Eiko-chan?”

When the head server spoke to her, mischievously, Echo froze up. Silent, speechless, her expression was as composed as a doll’s, but her internal conflict seemed to steal into it. For a little while, silence reigned in the dressing room, and Oz called her name, puzzled: “Eko-chan?”

“………No, thank you. I won’t wear it,” Echo answered.

When the head server smiled a bit regretfully, Oz happily declared, “All right, I’ll wear it!” He began energetically pulling on the Jyanta-kun costume.

Echo watched him, steadily. Her inorganic expression didn’t betray the slightest emotion; only her eyes held a tiny, sparkling glow.

Finally, having gotten into the costume, Oz spread his arms wide and spun around once in front of Echo.

There it was: an unmistakable, life-sized, walking Jyanta-kun.

“……………ooh…”

Faintly, ever so faintly, a cry of admiration escaped Echo.

“Whaddaya think, Eko-chan?! Does it look good on me?”

Full-body costumes didn’t “look good” on anyone, but Oz asked the question in high spirits. The head server was applauding: “Yes, yes it does.” Echo’s eyebrows twitched, and she balled both her hands into tight fists. She hadn’t replied, and Oz tilted his head in confusion: “???”

Echo’s eyes were downcast, and a low voice issued from her lips:

“…………lite.”

““Huh?””

Unable to catch what Echo had said, Oz and the head server spoke at the same time. Echo’s head came up sharply; she pointed straight at Oz and spoke:

“No ‘whaddaya.’ Jyanta-san’s speech is much more polite. Get it right, please.”

She sounded detached, but there was an overwhelming force in her words.

Overawed, Oz said, “H-he does,” just to show he’d been listening. There was a short, bewildered silence, but then he cleared his throat, just once. Raising his round, fingerless, stuffed animal–like hand up high:

“Why, hello there! I’m Jyanta-kun, and I’ve come to see Eko-chan!”

Then, briskly, he held out a hand to Echo.

…But Echo didn’t react.

Then, a single word slipped from her mouth. It was soft, yet somehow fervent.

“—Jyanta-san.”

As if the murmur had told him he passed, Oz struck a mighty muscle pose. The head server, who’d been watching them cheerfully, spoke as if to set things back on track:

“Okay, let’s have you get out there and work like mad. Oh, you can stay in that uniform, Eiko-chan. That costume’s really tough on adults, you know…”

This was certainly good news, but Echo just stood there, dazed.

Looking at her, the head server laughed and added:

“I imagine it’s going to be hard for Oz-kun to serve customers in a full-body costume like that, so could you go along and cover fo—”

“Understood-I’ll-cover-for-him.”

Before the head server could finish saying “cover for him?” Echo answered her all in one breath.

She was really raring to go. Echo took the stuffed animal hand that had been held out to her:

“Come on, Jyanta-san. Let’s go.”

Tugging the costume’s hand, she began to walk smartly out of the dressing room. Her enthusiasm was so great that Oz and the head server were taken aback. Reaching the door, Echo put her hand on the knob. Then the head server spoke to her, merrily:

“Eiko-chan, you like Jyanta-kun, don’t you.”

Echo stopped dead, one hand on the doorknob.

Standing just like that, with her face to the door, without turning around, Echo said:

“………Not particularly.”

Her ears had gone bright red.

Then Echo opened the door and left the dressing room at a brisk pace. From behind her, the head server called, “Ah—Oz-kun, watch your head,” and then there was a dull whunk. When Echo turned, the Jyanta-kun costume’s head seemed to have struck the door, and it was just about to fall off.

Hastily, Oz caught it with one hand.

“If it falls, it’ll get dirty.”

“Whew,” Oz exhaled, and then smiled at her.

“Oh, yes—”

Responding a little apologetically, Echo looked down, abruptly seeming to realize something.

Her hand had caught Jyanta-kun’s hand and was pulling it. Through the cloth of the costume, she could feel Oz’s hand.

Suddenly, her heart beat faster.

Even she didn’t know why. It wasn’t the first time she’d pulled Oz along by the hand like this. She’d done the same thing at the Saint Bridget’s Day festival. When they’d chased the fireworks that shot into the sky.

And yet why was it that right now, just pulling Oz’s hand—and with the cloth of a full-body costume between their hands, at that—made her heart pound? When she stayed still, looking down at their linked hands, Oz called to her, as though to check on her: “Eko-chan?”

With a start, Echo shook her head.

“It’s nothing. …Let’s go. We have work to do.”

Speaking as if to remind herself, Echo tugged on Oz’s hand. They went out into the corridor and began walking.

They were still holding hands.

It was only the second time…

She’d heard that if you had the same dream three times, it would come true. However, so far, she’d only had it twice.

Even so, it had come true.

Oz had appeared, right before her eyes. In a place, and in a situation, where she’d never have expected to meet him.

That’s why, Echo thought. Because she hadn’t been the least bit mentally prepared. Because it had caught her off guard.

That must be it. That’s why. I’m still a little startled. That’s all.

She tried to convince herself that it could be nothing else.

—The fact that her heart was still beating fast.

“You want to take a photograph?”

A guest room known as the Purple Room, on the second floor of Silver Moon Garden. Oz, still in his costume and standing in front of some guests, an elderly couple, cocked his head in bewilderment at the sudden request. Echo, who was waiting beside Oz, shot a glance at the wall.

There was the sign with the message, PLEASE REFRAIN FROM MAKING UNREASONABLE DEMANDS OF THE SERVERS.

Registering Echo’s gaze, the elderly husband nodded.

“We do understand what’s written on the sign. If you can’t do it, please tell us so. Only, you see, our grandchildren love Jyanta-kun. They’d be thrilled if we showed them a photograph of that costume.”

“I see,” Echo responded, and looked down. The elderly couple said that, just before they came to the salon, they’d been to pick up a camera that had been out for repairs. They had it in their leather satchel now.

From inside the costume’s mask, Oz looked at Echo.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to help them out…”

Echo thought hard for a little while, then answered, “Echo also thinks it’s all right.” Simply taking a photograph shouldn’t count as an unreasonable demand. Thanking them again and again, the elderly couple eagerly took the camera out of their large leather satchel and began to get ready.

In the arrangement they chose, the elderly couple was seated companionably at the table while Jyanta-kun stood behind them with his hands on their shoulders.

They left the task of working the camera to Echo. Echo had never used a camera before and wasn’t at all confident, but the elderly husband showed her what to do, and she managed, with difficulty. She had no idea whether she’d gotten a good picture. When she’d finished, the elderly couple thanked her again.

…And then they said this:

“Thank you so much for your help. As a token of our gratitude, let us photograph the two of you as well. Go on, line up.”

“Wow, lucky us, Eko-chan! We get a souvenir photo.”

Oz sent up a genuinely happy cheer, but Echo was bewildered. She fidgeted and hesitated.

She wanted to have it taken. She did want to, but the idea of being photographed standing next to Jyanta-kun, having fun, was terribly embarrassing. Besides, although her fundamental objective was the search for “Basil,” she was technically working as a server at the moment.

Oz gave her back a supportive little push; his voice was cheerful:

“Come on, Eko-chan, it’s okay. It’s not every day that someone volunteers to take your photo for you.”

“It’s Echo, not Eko.”

Echo corrected him, as if she’d just remembered.

“And in any case, we’re at work. Having souvenir photographs taken is not part of a server’s job.”

She spoke flatly, and Oz’s shoulders drooped dejectedly.

When he did that while dressed as Jyanta-kun, the gesture became vaguely funny and charming, and Echo felt a bit tickled. Of course, she didn’t let it show in her expression, not at all. As Echo and Oz squabbled, the elderly husband ducked his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to make you quarrel. I suppose I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yes, really.” The wife also bowed her head, quietly.

“Oh, no—”

Unsettled by the apology she’d provoked, Echo shook her head. The elderly husband patted the camera and murmured, sounding very regretful. He cleared his throat.

“I didn’t think a chance like this would ever come again, you see.”

—Never again?!?!

The words rang in Echo’s mind like the sound of a bell.

Never again.

Never again.

Never again.

She would never get another opportunity to be photographed with Jyanta-kun.

…Besides, the person inside Jyanta-san is… No, this has nothing to do with who’s inside!

In any case.

When she thought of the days she spent working under Vincent, it really didn’t seem likely that she’d get another chance like this one.

Shoulders drooping, the elderly husband slowly began to return the camera to the leather satchel.

On reflex, Echo spoke:

“I-if that’s what you’d like, sir…then…there’s no help for it…”

“Oho,” he murmured, and the elderly couple both looked at Oz, flashing him impish, assertive thumbs-up. Their triumphant faces seemed to say, Now that’s the wisdom of age. From inside the mask, Oz gave a delighted whoop. “Yesss!”

And then…

In the garret of the Nightray manor. Echo, who’d been looking up at the skylight, rolled over.

“……………………”

She was looking at the diary she’d set beside her bed, and at the single photograph turned facedown on top of it.

Echo stretched out a hand and picked up the photograph.

She turned it over, holding it up to the moonlight that streamed in through the skylight.

It was a picture of herself, standing next to the Jyanta-kun costume. The elderly couple had left Silver Moon Garden, but had come back when Echo and Oz got off work, just to bring the photos to them. “We got them developed quickly.” They’d laughed.

They’d given Oz and Echo one each.

“…Oz-sama has the same photograph as Echo…” she murmured, half-unconsciously, but in the next instant, she shook her head vigorously.

And what if he does? It doesn’t mean anything. It isn’t important.

She desperately canceled out the words she’d murmured.

“”

Echo reached out for her diary and picked it up. She sat up and opened it on her lap. For a little while, she gazed at the photograph. Then, gently, she put it on that day’s page and closed the book. Even if somebody saw the picture, they wouldn’t know who was inside the Jyanta-kun costume.

Setting the diary on the floor, she picked up the lantern, took off its cover, and blew into it, extinguishing the light.

Only moonlight filled the garret room.

Echo lay down on the bed. Soon sleepiness crept up on her, and she gave a small yawn.

Her lips moved, addressing no one in particular: Good night.

That night, Echo didn’t dream.

4

“Well, in three days, the matter should be settled.”

As Vincent had predicted, on the afternoon of the third day, Basil put in an appearance at Silver Moon Garden.

Echo carried out her original duties perfectly, and informed Vincent.

A FEW DAYS LATER.

Someone raided Basil’s hideout in a corner of Old Town. Basil and every last one of the members of the criminal organization with which he’d been meeting were killed. Basil did make a temporary escape in his carriage, but his body was found the next day.

 

 

In his room at the Nightray manor, Vincent lay on the sofa, drowsily talking to Echo:

“Basil’s carriage ran recklessly down Hodgepodge Street. I hear it caused a bit of a stir…

“Quite the nuisance.” Vincent smiled thinly.

Echo nodded in agreement. Her face held no emotion whatsoever. It seemed almost artificial.

Vincent narrowed his eyes at her in a smile, as if admiring a favorite doll, and spoke:

“All right then, Echo. Here are your next orders…”

The world still holds lots and lots of things that Echo doesn’t know or understand, Echo thought.

“—That is why Echo keeps a diary.”

Murmuring, she closed the diary on the entry she’d just finished writing and tucked it away inside her jacket. Her expression seemed very faintly satisfied.

~ Fin ~