1

Eight months and twenty-two days.

That was the amount of time Reim Lunettes had worked without a holiday. Reim—who handled paperwork at Pandora and also served Rufus Barma, the head of the House of Barma and one of the four great dukes—performed a staggering amount of work every day.

Reim had an established reputation for doing quick, dependable work. In particular, the reports he drafted were renowned for their accuracy and the beautiful perfection of their text.

That said, as far as Reim was concerned, it was only natural for reports to be accurate and watertight. He didn’t think it was anything special enough to warrant praise.

In those eight months and twenty-two days, Reim had not gone a single day without drafting a report.

He’d drafted, and drafted, and kept right on drafting.

…And now. Today.

Finally, after eight months and twenty-two days, Reim had gotten a day off. It was his first in a very long time. A whole day of freedom.

If he were to come right out and say it, it also meant:

Today, I don’t have to write a single report!

Yes. It had meant that. …But.

“…………”

Reim stepped into the entry hall of the main Barma residence. He was wearing his Pandora uniform.

The servant who came to meet him looked mystified. Many people knew that today was Reim’s day off, and yet here he was, in uniform. “Is something the matter?” the servant asked. His expression was puzzled.

“I’ve been summoned by Rufus-sama.”

Through the lenses of his glasses, Reim turned a gaze that didn’t betray a shred of dissatisfaction on the servant.

“The master…?”

“Apparently he has a job that he wants me to handle personally.”

At Reim’s words, the servant’s expression shifted into one of pity. He was probably sympathizing with him—Just when you’d finally gotten a day off…—but as far as Reim was concerned, it wasn’t necessary. If there was a job that needed to be done, he’d long been prepared to forgo as many vacation days as it took.

The fact that he’d been summoned personally meant it was a job only he could do.

If they had need of his strength, he would meet that need.

To Reim, this was only natural, and he felt it was well worth doing.

“Is Rufus-sama in his study?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“All right. Thanks,” Reim said politely.

He started toward the great staircase that stretched from the entry hall to the upper floors.

As he climbed the stairs, the itinerary for his day off, which he’d been planning in detail for the past week, flickered through his mind, but he banished it almost immediately. Reading, going shopping… Now that he thought about it, the plan hadn’t been anything special.

If anything, he thought, it was more like him to spend his vacation day working than lazing around.

At that image of himself, Reim gave a small, wry smile.

If I told Xerx about this, he’d probably make fun of me.

His friend’s face rose in his mind. Xerx was also a member of Pandora, but it was always hard to tell whether he was doing his job or just messing around.

Finally, Reim reached the top of the stairs, walked down a long hall, and arrived at the door to Rufus’s study.

He knocked.

“Rufus-sama, it’s Reim Lunettes.”

From beyond the door, a voice told him to come in. As he set a hand on the brass knob, in a corner of his mind, Reim murmured, …Well. At least—

He opened the door, quietly.

—if I can get through the whole day without drafting a report, that will be enough for me. As long as this isn’t Pandora business, it shouldn’t be necessary.

He entered the study, bowed, and faced his master.

…And then, Rufus hit Reim with a startling declaration:

“Should naught change, I must die. Victim of a malicious curse…”

Huh? Inwardly, Reim was perplexed.

Apparently, Rufus-sama is going to die. Due to a curse.

The author (hereinafter “I/me”) heard the main points directly from Rufus-sama, the head of the House of Barma, in his private rooms.

If true, this will have drastic repercussions, not only for the House of Barma but for aristocratic society as a whole. The matter calls for a rapid response and development of countermeasures, and I am convinced that the advanced administrative abilities I display under ordinary conditions are the reason Rufus-sama has chosen to place me in charge.

The fact that today was my first day off in approximately nine months is trivial. Compared to having been entrusted with Rufus-sama’s confidence, the fact that my plans for the day—which I had spent a week meticulously designing, ever since my first day off in a long while was confirmed—have come to nothing is of no significance.

Having been placed in charge of the matter, my first act was to immediately hear the story from Rufus-sama. Below, I present that information in an interview format.

*Note 1: The wheelchair: I wish you’d think about the magnitude of the effect your fate will have on the organization.

At this point, the respondent began urging the interviewer to begin his investigation, and the interview ended.

* Note 2: The respondent requested that this matter be investigated in secret. He is probably concerned about the possibility of spreading confusion among the members of the House of Barma and the organization. The interviewer agreed to this request and informed the respondent that he would conduct the investigation on his own.

*Note 3: While unnecessary, the author’s personal opinion regarding this matter follows.

Ordinarily, even if he were cursed, Rufus-sama is the type who would use his encyclopedic knowledge of the occult to dispel the curse, and would enjoy doing so. Although it does not apply in this case, if the source of the curse happened to be a person, he would no doubt gleefully curse them back with enough force to make them regret ever having cursed him.

This curse has even Rufus-sama terrified. I will have to go about this very carefully.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

2

In the library, the pride of the House of Barma, home to a collection of books that rivaled the national library:

“I…have absolutely no idea!”

Reim’s voice was tinged with fatigue. As he spoke, he tossed the dictionary of the occult he’d been looking through onto the reading table with a heavy whump. A mountain of thick tomes was already piled at the seat where Reim had set up camp.

He’d read so many difficult books in one sitting that he’d given himself a dull headache.

“Haaaaaah…” Reim heaved a long sigh. “‘The curse of Mahani,’ huh?”

Muttering wearily, Reim glanced at the towers of documents that surrounded him. He considered taking a break, then thought better of it and picked up a volume he hadn’t opened yet.

Rufus-sama seemed…

“I must not die yet. Do what thou must to discern a way to break the curse.

“Should naught change, I must die. Do something, posthaste.”

Although he’d spoken the way he always did, his tone had held faint but definite traces of impatience, unease, and fear.

…It wasn’t like him. Those emotions were very unlike the Rufus Reim knew.

However, the weight of being made to confront one’s own death might be that great. It was something Reim hadn’t personally experienced yet. He couldn’t imagine what being forced to face his own death would do to him. Would he be afraid, and panic, and fall to pieces? He hoped he wouldn’t, but…

But even Rufus-sama…

Up until now, he’d assumed his master’s only weakness was Sheryl, the head of the House of Rainsworth. He hadn’t thought anyone or anything else could frighten Rufus—as far as Reim’s mental image of him was concerned, not even his own death.

Rufus-sama is human, too, Reim thought. It isn’t odd for him to have a fragile side.

The pressure of the need to save him weighed heavily on his back. Reim trusted his master. He trusted his knowledge and deep insight, and his resourcefulness. Rufus-sama had said the name of the curse itself—“the curse of Mahani”—was a clue.

“Mahani.”

M   A   H   A   N   I

Reim mentally visualized the spelling. It was an odd word; he’d never seen or heard it before.

This investigation was like trying to grasp a cloud.

Just then:

“Reim. How dost thou fare?”

Reim had removed his glasses and was massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers in an attempt to ease his aching eyes, when Rufus abruptly made an appearance.

He was holding his opened fan so that it hid the lower half of his face, and was watching Reim with keen interest.

Reim was caught off guard. Taken aback, he started with enough force that his chair clattered. Hastily, he put his glasses back on.

“Rufus-sama…”

“Hast thou discovered aught? Hmm?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

Reim felt embarrassed. Rufus’s expression seemed somehow mischievous, and Reim frowned, perplexed.

“Have you recovered already?”

Even now, while he was being cursed to death…

At that, Rufus’s expression turned contemptuous.

“Canst thou not tell I am feigning courage, half-wit? This is why thou hast never yet bested thine elder brother.”

“I-I’m very sorry, sir,” Reim apologized, ashamed.

Rufus cast a glance at the scores of books surrounding Reim and gave a small sigh.

He closed his fan, using its tip to tap the cover of one of the volumes, and spoke. “If thou canst glean naught from these, why not take thyself to Pandora?”

“To Pandora?”

“Mm. While not the equal of Barma’s, Pandora’s library is quite good. There are many nobles there besides. If thou shouldst interview them, thou might chance upon information from some unexpected quarter. Aye, those of the four great dukedoms may possess rare information.”

I see, Reim thought.

He’d thought, if he were unable to uncover anything by investigating at Barma, there’d be nothing left for him to try. However, while there was no telling how much he could expect from Pandora’s library, the dignitaries of the four families might know something. Reim thanked Rufus and rose from his chair.

“I’ll head over right away. —Oh. Before I do, though.”

“What?”

“I’ll stop by the office first.”

“Wherefore?” Rufus’s expression seemed to say, Would you hurry up and go?

“I’d like to organize the information I’ve found so far.”

…In a report.

Even if he had nowhere to submit it, the act of drafting it would help him get his thoughts in order. Reim took his leave of Rufus, went to the office, and drafted his report in a very short time. It came out rather rough, but since it wasn’t a formal report, he ignored that.

When he’d finished the report, he left the Barma mansion for Pandora Headquarters.

It was already evening.

Reim could tell he was going to use up his entire day on this matter.

Still, as he walked toward Pandora, Reim seemed dignified and untroubled.

The following is a continuation of Report 1.

An investigation of the library at the main Barma residence conducted by the author (hereinafter “I/me”) did not produce favorable results. While I searched through a vast number of books at the aforementioned library, Rufus-sama visited me and instructed me to visit Pandora Headquarters and continue my investigation there. Although the Pandora library holds many books as well, when I compared it to the Barma library, I found myself unable to expect much from it.

However, Rufus-sama had something else in mind. He suggested interviewing the members of the distinguished noble houses at Pandora Headquarters. As this was an instruction from my master, I had no room to object. In the evening, I went to Pandora Headquarters where, in addition to conducting my investigation in the library, I interviewed members of the aristocracy.

A list of those interviewed follows:

House of Vessalius

House of Rainsworth

House of Nightray

Other

*Note 1: There was no real reason for the selection of these particular individuals. I simply encountered them by chance at Pandora. Additionally, while the conversations I had with them were not uniformly useful, I have recorded them here in light of their value as future evidence and documentation.

Below, I present the content of these conversations in an interview format. Interviews are recorded in the order in which I encountered the respondents.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On the first floor of Pandora Headquarters, Reim happened to see Oz.

Oz was about halfway down the long corridor on the west side of the first floor, and he seemed to be looking for something. He was peeking into vases and looking behind the frames that had been hung as part of the furnishings. He didn’t seem terribly desperate. It was as if he wasn’t really expecting to find anything, but was looking anyway, just in case.

Perplexed, Reim approached Oz, wondering what he was looking for. He would have liked to offer to help, but he couldn’t. He was on a mission of his own.

Still, Reim thought, he could afford a conversation. He had things he wanted to ask as well.

“Oz-sama,” Reim called.

He walked up to Oz.

After leaving Oz, Reim went up to Pandora’s second floor.

In a second-floor corridor, he saw Alice, who was walking along with a partially eaten sparerib in one hand, humming to herself. She seemed to be in a good mood. She was gnawing at the meat between hums, and her face was cheerful and satisfied.

She didn’t seem to notice Reim. I really can’t approve of eating and walking at the same time, Reim thought, frowning. …Should I tell her Oz-sama was looking for her? But Oz-sama was looking for those Alices from last week, not this Alice… Still, according to Oz-sama, this Alice and those Alices are the same thing… Rrgh, what a nuisance.

Reim thought back to the uproar that had occurred the previous week. It had turned Pandora Headquarters completely upside down. Reim had been at headquarters at the time, and of course he’d been pulled in as well.

…I’ll leave that aside for now, Reim decided, and hailed Alice.

He’d been startled that Oz knew about “the curse of Mahani,” and he didn’t think Alice would know anything. Even as he thought this, he called, “Alice-kun, do you have a minute?”

Alice turned to look at Reim.

After parting with Alice, Reim headed toward the Pandora library.

I’ve just learned something bloodcurdling…

Reim’s face was rather gray.

Who would have thought that Sharon-sama… No, I’d better forget about this. I didn’t hear a thing! Never mind that, there’s a curse to investigate!

As Reim walked down the corridor, shaking his head hard, passing Pandora employees glanced at him as though they were seeing something very odd. Reim didn’t notice. Finally, when Reim had managed to calm himself down, he saw a lone woman standing at a corner in the corridor, up ahead.

It was rare to see this particular individual at Pandora Headquarters. It was Ada Vessalius, Oz’s little sister.

Oscar, Oz and Ada’s uncle, was one of the four great dukes, and as the current head of the House of Vessalius, he held an important post at Pandora. It was plausible to assume Ada was here because Oscar had summoned her for something.

Ada seemed to be hiding at the corner of the corridor, stealthily peeking into the other hallway.

??? Reim thought, puzzled, and walked up to Ada from behind.

Doing his best not to startle her, he called her name softly, laying a hand on her shoulder. “…Ada-sama?”

“—?!”

Ada flinched violently, giving a soundless scream. She whirled around as if she’d been struck.

I don’t think I could have startled her worse if I’d tried…

“I beg your pardon,” Reim said, bowing. “But…could I ask what you’re doing here?”

“Oh, n-n-n-n-n-no… It—it isn’t like that, I was—” Ada insisted. Her face was bright red, and her eyes were full of tears.

Hearing right off the bat that “it wasn’t like that” told Reim absolutely nothing.

On closer inspection, Ada was holding a book with a black cover to her chest, as if it was something very, very precious.

Ada vanished like a whirlwind down the corridor Reim had just come up.

“…What was all that about?”

Murmuring to himself, Reim picked up the book that had fallen where Ada had been standing. The cover was made of plain black leather. When he opened it, he saw that the book’s title was written on the first page. The title was: A Children’s Primer—Easy Black Magic—Elementary Ceremonies Edition.

Easy? Black…magic…?

It was a book far removed from Reim’s mental image of Ada.

Pushing his glasses up with his index finger, Reim flipped through the pages. Although the book claimed to have been written for children, its contents seemed fairly professional.

What could it mean? Reim thought. Ada-sama is, well…a bit naive… Erm, I mean, she has unique sensibilities. She must have mistaken this for a slightly eccentric volume of poetry or something similar.

The suspicious spells and mysterious jargon the magic book held weren’t entirely unlike fantastic poems. Reim decided that must have been it.

I’ll return this to Ada-sama later, he thought.

Magic book in hand, Reim turned the corner. Then he stopped.

While not as unexpected as Ada, a person whom it was quite unusual to see at Pandora Headquarters stood just around the corner. Reim had guessed as much from Ada’s words, but it was Vincent Nightray and his valet, the girl Echo.

Vincent was a son of the House of Nightray, another of the four great dukedoms, and he was also affiliated with Pandora.

However, he was notorious for almost never leaving the Nightray mansion.

Reim remembered that Ada had said she meant to recommend the magic book to Vincent-sama.

He considered passing it on to Vincent himself, right there, but almost immediately thought better of it.

No doubt Ada-sama wanted to give it to him personally.

Reim decided not to do anything too forward. He drew a small breath.

“—Vincent-sama,” he addressed him, bowing. Noticing Reim, Vincent smiled.

It was a decorous smile. However, it held no sense of affection for the other person. Echo was standing next to Vincent, and as he spoke, he stroked her head.

“We just came by for a bit of fun. Was that all right…?”

“Of course. I’m afraid I can’t personally accommodate you just now, though.”

Vincent only murmured, “I see.” He smiled tranquilly; he didn’t seem to mind.

Simply having Vincent smile at him made Reim feel as if it was a bit hard to breathe.

I’m really no good with this person…

Vincent left Reim, and Echo followed after.

“Papa,” she said… I’ve heard something shocking, Reim thought. Still, he didn’t want to get too involved with the House of Nightray, and especially not with Vincent. He swore to forget what he’d heard, and chased the word from his mind.

His eyes fell to the magic book in his hand. He did have a curse to investigate, but first he thought he should find Ada and return the book. He turned on his heel.

Ada was standing right behind him.

“—?!” Reim was so startled that he froze up.

Ada seemed terribly flustered and anxious. She looked at the book in Reim’s hands, pointing.

“Umm…umm… I… That…”

“Oh. Oh, this? Yes, I’m afraid you dropped it. …Here you are.”

Reim handed the magic book to Ada, who was looking truly desperate. Ada hugged the magic book to her bosom and gazed at Reim. She seemed to want to say something. Reim cocked his head, puzzled, and asked her what was wrong.

“Umm…I…this… This book. Did you…look inside…?”

“Ah—” Reim responded, just to show he’d been listening. Ada’s whole body seemed to be radiating the wish Say you didn’t see it! Say you didn’t see it!

Reim’s understanding was that Ada had mistaken a magic book for a book of poetry or some other romantic volume, and he interpreted the situation based on that understanding: Ada-sama must be embarrassed by the idea of anyone knowing the contents of the book.

Reim smiled and—kindly—lied: “I didn’t look.” The instant he did, Ada heaved a sigh of relief so great that her shoulders sagged.

Ada thanked Reim over and over for picking up the magic book. Reim told her she’d probably find Vincent quite soon if she went after him now, but Ada only shook her head, red-faced, and walked away. Women are complicated, Reim thought.

Mentally switching gears, Reim returned to his investigation of the curse. Thinking he’d try Pandora’s books as well, he headed for the library. When he entered, Break was already there.

“Hullo, Reim-san.”

His friend—a “friend” he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried—waved at him cheerily. For some reason, the moment he saw him, Reim thought:

That little… Was he waiting for me?

If asked why he felt this, Reim couldn’t have answered. It was just instinct.

“Wasn’t today your day off?”

“As it turns out, no. …Rufus-sama had a request for me.”

“My, my. May blessings be upon you, industrious Reim-san.”

“Don’t mock me. Never mind that, do you have a minute?”

Did Break know? If not, Reim would end the conversation quickly. He didn’t have time to waste joking around with this amiable bad influence.

“Sure. What do you need?” Break cocked his head.

Reim’s conversation with Break had left him more tired than before.

He hesitated, wondering whether he should continue with his planned investigation of the library’s volumes as well, but in the end he left the library and headed for the third-floor office where Break had said he’d find Sharon. As he climbed the stairs, on the landing between the second and third floors, Reim spotted Gilbert.

Gilbert was looking out through the window on the landing.

The sky was already fading from sunset vermillion to the dark blue of night, and the moon was up.

Apparently, that night was the full moon.

A hazy memory rose in Reim’s mind. Something Rufus had said.

To a moonlit night like this…

What had they been talking about? He couldn’t remember.

“Reim?” Gilbert ended up speaking to him first.

Gilbert had worried wrinkles between his eyebrows, although that was nothing unusual for him. He seemed to have been deep in thought as he gazed outside.

Although Reim was on his way to the office where Sharon was, he thought he’d ask Gilbert as well.

“Gilbert-sama. Would you mind if I asked you a question?”

Before Reim could ask his question, Gilbert asked one of his own:

“Reim, what exactly are ‘women,’ anyway? I really don’t know.”

When Reim left Gilbert and stepped into the third-floor office, there was Sharon.

Sharon was seated at the desk, her pen skimming over a document of some sort. He’d caught her at work.

She returned the pen to its stand and looked up at Reim.

“Reim-san? Did you need me for something?”

“Well, yes, but it isn’t all that important. If this is a bad time, I’ll come back later.”

“It doesn’t matter. I was just thinking it would be nice to take a break.”

Sharon smiled. From her expression, it was clear that she wasn’t just being polite.

“Shall I order tea?” she asked, reaching for the bell on the desk.

“Please don’t bother,” Reim said, refusing politely, but with an impish smile, Sharon said she wanted some, and rang the bell. Almost immediately, a servant appeared with a tea set.

As Sharon offered tea to Reim, elegantly sipping from her own teacup, she motioned for him to begin.

“…And? What is it?”

That completes the interviews. I find myself right back where I started…

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

3

“I find myself right back where I started…”

As he wrote the last line of the report, Reim sighed. He was in an office at the Barma mansion.

He gazed at Report 2, which he’d just finished drafting.

He still hadn’t uncovered a way to break the curse.

“Should naught change, I must die,” Rufus had said. If Reim didn’t find a way to break the curse, and Rufus, his master, died…

If the House of Barma lost its head, there would be an uproar—or, more likely, something far, far more serious.

“MAHANI” appeared several times in the report. Reim stared at the spelling.

There is meaning in the very word “Mahani.”

Both Rufus and Sharon had said that.

In other words, he had to look for the meaning hidden in the word itself. That said, it wasn’t a word Reim knew, and he hadn’t seen it in any of the documents he’d searched. There was nothing more to be done. Reim leaned far back, slumping down in his chair, and looked out the window.

The full moon looked particularly large tonight. A shaft of clear moonlight shone through the windowpane.

It’s very bright…

Thinking he might be able to read even without a light, Reim blew out the lamp that sat on the desk. The room, which had been lit by warm lamplight, was abruptly dyed in pale moonlight. Report in hand, Reim went over to the window.

“Yes, I can read.”

In the moonlight, he was able to make out the rows of fine letters in the report without straining.

“To a moonlit night like this—” He spoke the words without thinking.

They were Rufus’s words, the ones that had drifted into Reim’s mind on the staircase landing a short while ago.

Words from a conversation he’d once had with Rufus.

Yes… It had been night, a night like this one, lit by a bright full moon. Rufus had said:

“Even though a would be most suited to a moonlit night like this…”

He’d responded to his master’s words with, “Yes, you’re right.” If he recalled correctly.

…Why did I remember something like that at a time like this?

Reim didn’t understand his own thoughts.

In an attempt to put everything else out of his mind, he reviewed the information he’d collected in the report. He saw one particular word over and over: MAHANI. As he examined the spelling closely, the letters separated from each other, scattering in Reim’s mind and beginning to move on their own.

The word lost all meaning, becoming no more than a group of letters.

And then —

He was struck by an abrupt revelation. Reim shouted, involuntarily, “It’s an anagram!!”

4

Clear moonlight streamed down from the bright full moon in the sky.

Under that moonlight stood a single great tree. It was covered with small, pale-pink flowers, their petals fully unfurled.

An expanse of open lawn spread across a secluded corner of the House of Barma’s private land.

In a way, there was something lonely about the sight of the tree standing there, all by itself. However, curiously, it didn’t feel as if anything else was needed. Such was the presence of the tree and its cloud of blossoms.

At the base of the tree, several people had gathered.

Rufus, Oz, Ada, Gilbert, Sharon, Break—and Reim.

Everyone except for Reim was seated on a thin carpet that had been unrolled on the grass. In the center of the circle were plates of hors d’oeuvres and several bottles of liquor made from Rufus’s prized rice, along with many small plates, forks, and other utensils.

It looked exactly like a nocturnal picnic.

A short while earlier…

“In a distant foreign land, I am told, there is a custom known as ‘hanami.’”

Rufus had told Reim a story he’d heard from a merchant who’d sold him an unusual liquor made from rice.

“’Tis a banquet whereat guests admire flowers, savor spirits, sing songs, and display their talents.”

“Like a kind of garden party?”

Reim fished a word he was familiar with out of his memory. Rufus told him it was similar, but that there were several differences.

One of the differences Rufus had been most taken with was that hanami were sometimes held by moonlight. Guests enjoyed the banquet and admired the flowers with the moon as their only light, using no lamps or candlesticks.

That certainly was unlike the garden parties Reim knew.

The moon had been bright and full on the night when they’d had that conversation.

However, it had already been too late to invite guests, and in the end, no hanami was held that night.

“Even though a hanami would be most suited to a moonlit night like this…”

“You’re right.”

Rufus had sounded vexed, and Reim had agreed with him.

Honestly…

Reim sat alone, leaning against the trunk of the great tree, a little apart from the circle of guests enjoying the banquet.

If he wanted to hold a hanami, he could have just said so…

How roundabout. What a nuisance. Those were Reim’s honest feelings.

“MAHANI,” shuffled a bit, became “HANAMI.”

When he’d caught on and solved the childish little anagram, Reim visited Rufus’s study and gave the answer. At that, Rufus looked out the study window, confirmed that the moon had risen in the night sky, and spoke, sounding satisfied:

“Hm. Laudable timing. If thou hadst not seen through this paltry word game, I would have released thee from service for eternity, not merely today. Go on, make ready, quickly.”

…Just as if he’d known Reim would visit at that hour all along.

Rufus said that everything they’d need was already in place.

He also said:

“The invitations were issued yestereve. I said the purpose was to gladden my servant Reim’s first holiday in a long time, and mayhap it proved effective, for many expressed their intention to attend…although the most important guest declined, and it has badly damaged my humor…”

“……Invitations?” Reim muttered, dazed. He hadn’t even heard the last half of what Rufus had said. In response, Rufus gave several names: Oz, Sharon, and Break. On the invitations, he had also written that parties were better when lively, and requested that they bring their friends and acquaintances.

On top of that, the summons wasn’t the only thing that had been written on the invitations.

“Haaah…”

Heaving a sigh that was tinged with fatigue, Reim looked up at the great tree he was leaning against.

In the darkness, the tiny, delicate, pale-pink flowers were vivid as they swayed in the night breeze, picked out by moonlight.

When he sniffed, audibly, he caught their faint, elegant fragrance.

“—A cherry tree. The Somei-Yoshino variety, or so I hear.”

Someone spoke, unexpectedly, right next to him. When Reim turned to look, there was Break, kneeling with a bottle of liquor in one hand, two small cups in the other, and a smile on his face.

“Here,” he said. He handed one of the cups to Reim and filled it from the bottle.

Reim had been told that the liquor was made from rice, and a unique, sweet scent did indeed tickle his nostrils. However, the cup was very small, and it could only hold a mouthful of the stuff.

Reim drained his cup in one go. “Not very cultured, are you?” Break smiled wryly, sipping at his own cup. “This is drunk like so—small sips, almost as if you were licking it.”

“I don’t care. It’s not enough.” He held his cup out, imperiously.

“You did wonderful work all day today, Reim-san.”

Speaking sympathetically, Break poured liquor into Reim’s cup. Reim brought the cup to his lips and took a very small sip, imitating Break.

As he did so, he glared at Break, steadily. Lowering the cup, he said, “What’s this ‘surprise party’ business? Even you were in on it…”

“Yes, Duke Barma really is a problem, isn’t he. That was more a full-dress order than an invitation.”

The previous evening, Oz, Sharon, and Break had received invitations from Rufus.

Apparently, the invitations had begun with the words REIM IS EVER DILIGENT, HENCE, KINDHEARTED AS I AM, I HAVE DECIDED TO HOST A BANQUET FOR HIM—, and had been crammed to bursting with declarations of just what a considerate master he was to his servants.

On top of that, in addition to the veritable concert of self-congratulation, he’d said that, to heighten Reim’s joy when it was time for the banquet, he had prepared a modest additional entertainment.

This was to have Reim run around Pandora Headquarters gathering information from the guests on the pretext of having him investigate a curse: “the curse of Mahani,” an anagram of “hanami.” …It had been shrewd of Rufus not to tell Gilbert and Alice: Both were bad at acting and intrigue. Apparently, the invitations had ended with these words:

—ON LEARNING THAT WHAT HE BELIEVES IS A CURSE IS IN TRUTH A BANQUET IN HIS HONOR, REIM WILL ASSUREDLY BE STARTLED AND MOVED TO TEARS. THOU SHOULDST ALSO BE GRATEFUL TO ME FROM THE BOTTOM OF THY COLLECTIVE HEART FOR THE OPPORTUNITY TO PARTAKE IN THIS SUPERB EVENT…

After hearing a general explanation from Break, Reim sighed deeply.

“I wasn’t moved to tears. I was so appalled I almost cried…”

“Now, now.” Break’s expression was consoling. “It looks as though Duke Barma’s greatest ambition was thwarted, in any case.”

“Ambition?” Reim looked back at Break, puzzled.

“Yes, I heard about it from my lady—”

Then Break told him about it, lowering his voice a bit. To be accurate, he said, it was something Sheryl had said when Sharon had gone to ask her grandmother for permission to go out at night. After hearing that an invitation had arrived, and that the party was for a servant, Sheryl had thought for a little while. Then she’d spoken to Sharon. With a cheerful, sunny little laugh, she’d said:

“Tell him that it’s very shallow of him to use Reim-san to show off his kindness.”

“…And Sharon-sama told him that?”

“Of course she did. And, on hearing it, Duke Barma apparently considered canceling the party—although, in the end, as you can see, he didn’t. He must’ve known what Sheryl-sama would say later if he called it off.”

At hearing Break’s story, as you’d expect, Reim sighed deeply. He had no words.

…Rufus-sama really is a problem…

Reim muttered to himself, silently, and lifted the cup to his lips. Two sips, three, and the cup was empty again. Reim turned his gaze to the ring of people a short distance away. Rufus, who’d apparently already had quite a bit to drink, seemed to be in high spirits, fluttering his fan and reciting a poem in the center of the circle.

Like Reim, Break looked at Rufus and spoke, sounding impressed. “He’s completely recovered. I’d say Duke Barma is the one most enjoying the hanami at this point.”

“…Mm…” Reim said, briefly.

Break looked at him.

“I think he’s wanted to hold one of these for quite a while now…”

At Reim’s words, it all seemed to make sense to Break.

“So he was trying for two birds with one stone…or three birds, rather. That’s Duke Barma the strategist for you,” he added, admiringly.

Three birds…? Reim thought about what that meant. One was looking good in front of Sheryl. The second was his own desire. The third—Was it really…to reward me?

It might have been, and it might not. He didn’t know.

…And so Reim said “Pour,” thrusting his cup out at Break.

“Yes, yes,” Break said, and poured, smiling wryly. In return, Reim poured some for Break as well. “—Whoops!” Break said, deftly lifting the brimming cup to his lips.

Reim’s gaze shifted from Rufus to the people seated around him. Abruptly, he asked, “What about it? Does Sharon-sama enjoy drinking, too?”

“…Yes, well…”

Unusually for him, Break faltered. Reim gave a small sigh.

“I see. She doesn’t look as if she does.”

“‘Enjoy’ might not be the… Well, it should be fine. She said she wouldn’t drink today.”

Reim had wondered what would happen if she did drink, but he felt it wouldn’t be wise to ask, so he left it at that.

A close look at the circle revealed a variety of circumstances. Gilbert’s face was bright red; he’d already drunk himself insensible, and was being tended to by Oz and Ada. Sharon was watching the three of them fondly and darting discrete glances at the bottles of liquor, as if thinking, A little bit might be all right. Rufus was saying something, looking displeased by the fact that no one was paying attention to him.

Possibly this rice wine was more potent than its sweetness suggested, or possibly he was just tired. Reim could really hold his liquor, and even his cheeks were faintly flushed.

“I never thought my day off would turn out like this…” he muttered with a cynical smile.

Then…

Fwiiissh. The night wind picked up, blowing through the garden, shaking the branches of the great cherry tree and scattering blossoms. Pale-pink petals danced in the moonlight. The contrast with the darkness was beautiful, like something from a waking dream. In the midst of it all, Rufus’s long, vermillion hair fluttered, and his fan swam right and left, as though tracing the course of the petals.

It looked almost as if he was beckoning them to a world of mysterious, subtle beauty—

Before long, the wind subsided.

Reim, who’d involuntarily held his breath, let it out.

“Reim-san.”

Break called to him, a smile in his voice. Reim looked at him. He was pointing at Reim’s cup.

On the surface of the brimming cup of liquor, a single petal floated.

The full moon in the night sky was reflected there as well.

“I don’t think it gets more refined than that, do you?” Break said, cheerfully.

“…You’re right,” Reim agreed. He glanced at Rufus. Rufus was hiding his mouth behind his open fan and watching Reim with eyes slightly narrowed in a smile.

What dost thou think? he was asking Reim, proudly.

Good grief…

Muttering to himself on a sigh, Reim lifted the cup to his lips.

He drank down the liquor, the petal, and the full moon, all together. Break cheered him on: “That’s the spirit!”

Reim thought.

The rough report he’d drafted today, the one he had nowhere to send. When the party was over and he returned home, he thought, he’d write a report summarizing the day, to finish up.

Privately, he already knew what he’d write in it.

He took his well-worn notebook from his breast pocket, briskly scribbling a note on a blank page with his pen.

Then:

I’ll never be able to show this report to anyone, he thought.

The words he’d written in his notebook were:

 

~ Fin ~