Thread:Dai ca superman/@comment-25426265-20150513162321

St. Marguerite’s Library, as one of Europe’s most renowned depositories of books, stood hidden in a corner of the campus. Three hundred years of history were etched into the substantially built structure, its stone façade impressive enough to make it a natural tourist attraction. But the official school policy of barring access to unauthorized individuals kept the library unsullied by the eyes of the public.

Kazuya’s shoes made a crunching sound as he walked on the dry ground toward the library. Once he reached the end of the path, he went inside.

Bookshelves lined every wall of the square, hollow library. An atrium occupied the center of the tower, and a sublime religious fresco gleamed on the distant ceiling. And winding precariously from bookshelf to bookshelf was a narrow wooden staircase, shaped like an enormous labyrinth.

When Kazuya lifted his eyes to the top floor, an unbidden sigh escaped his throat. He had seen something dangling near the ceiling that resembled a long golden belt.

“Victorique… Once again, you’re at the very top….”

Kazuya had no choice but to start climbing the maze of stairs. Throughout his ascent, he absentmindedly spoke his thoughts aloud. “It would be nice if she could come down a little lower once in a while. But I guess she climbs these stairs every day. That’s too much trouble….”

As he climbed the stairs, the floor below faded into the distance. Looking down would make him feel dizzy, so Kazuya made sure to look straight ahead, taking each step with a steady pace and his head held high, like the third son of an imperial soldier that he was.

His breath grew ragged along the way, but he kept on climbing.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“But still… Why did they have to build the library this way in the first place….”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Some said that this library had been constructed in the early seventeenth century by the king who founded St. Marguerite’s School. The king, who was constantly henpecked by his wife, had a secret room built on the very top floor so that he could indulge himself in trysts with a lover, and for this reason had the staircase built in the form of a maze.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">In modern times, a hydraulic elevator had been installed as part of renovations, but it was limited to the use of staff, and not accessible to Kazuya.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">So he climbed.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">He climbed and climbed the labyrinthine staircase.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">…And still climbed ever higher.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">At last, he reached the very top floor, and halfheartedly called out, “Victorique…? Are you here…?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">There was no response. Kazuya continued, undiscouraged. “I know you’re here. I already saw your long hair. Hey!” He directed his voice toward the owner of the blond hair that hung down into the open space of the atrium like a belt.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">A thin, white strand of smoke rose up to the ceiling.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Kazuya took a step forward.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">There he found…

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">…a garden.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">The secret room at the very top of the library was no longer a bedroom for the king and his lover, but had since been reconstructed as a lush greenhouse. Tropical trees and ferns abounded, and soft rays of sunlight shone brightly through skylights.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">It was a brightly-lit, and yet empty, conservatory.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">But someone had left a large porcelain doll sprawled out on the landing that led to the entrance of the greenhouse.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">The doll’s height was close to life-size at around one hundred and forty centimeters tall. Its body was enveloped in luxurious clothing, lavishly bedecked in silk and lace. Splendidly long blond hair draped down to the floor like a turban come undone. Its face bore the detached coldness of porcelain. Pale, nearly transparent emerald-green eyes, ambiguous in whether they belonged to an adult or a child, glimmered with alertness.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">This porcelain doll was puffing away at a pipe held in its mouth. A white wisp of smoke drifted up toward the ceiling.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Kazuya walked straight toward that porcelain doll—no, that girl, who was beautiful enough to be a doll.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…You could at least answer me back, Victorique.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">The girl’s green eyes were rapidly shifting between the books lined up on the floor. The books, which radiated around her in all directions, included books of ancient history, the latest scientific discoveries, mechanics, witchcraft, alchemy…. They were also written in various languages, from English and French, to Latin and Chinese.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">The girl casually skimming these books—Victorique—suddenly came back to her surroundings, and looked up. Faced with Kazuya’s look of displeasure, she spoke only briefly. “Oh, it’s you.” Her voice was low and husky, like that of an old woman. It was a voice far removed from the appearance of her small body and fairy-like beauty.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Kazuya felt miffed by her intolerably aloof attitude, a mark of her aristocratic background. But she was always like this. Every time he came to visit, Victorique would end up irritating him in some way.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Victorique fell silent, and once again turned her gaze back to her books. She read rapidly while flipping through pages, then spoke again. “What do you want from me, reaper?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“I thought I told you not to call me that.” Kazuya hung his head, and leaned against the railing of the staircase.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Reaper” happened to be Kazuya’s nickname, of which he wasn’t particularly fond. Its origin lay in the collective mania for ghost stories that had infected the student body. As a school with a long history, there was no lack of material for such tales. There was the so-called “traveler who comes in spring brings death to the school”, “a demon dwells in the thirteenth step of the staircase”, and so on….

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">With his dark hair and jet-black eyes, the taciturn traveler from the Orient, Kazuya Kujou, wound up becoming universally known as the “reaper who comes in spring”. The students who so adored their ghost stories wouldn’t dare go near him. He had his doubts as to how much they really believed in these stories, but the students clearly enjoyed them, as if the entire school had decided to engage in a single hobby en masse.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">For this reason, Kazuya was unable to make close friends. And so Miss Cécile had arranged for him to end up in the position of liaison, or perhaps attendant, to the school’s resident misfit, Victorique.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">It wasn’t that he really wanted to spend time with this arrogant beauty… or so he told himself. But before he knew it, he had fallen into the habit of climbing that labyrinthine staircase to meet her on a regular basis.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Victorique paid no mind to Kazuya as he brooded over his lot in life, and continued in her husky voice. “Kujou, I suppose you’ve come to see me once again because you’re still unable to make any friends. You just don’t learn, do you. Or is it that you simply enjoy climbing the stairs?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…Of course not. Here, take these.” Kazuya thrust the papers that the teacher had given him at Victorique.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">She jutted out her chin at the floor as if to say, “Put them over there.” Then she said in a sing-song voice, “So, the weather was so nice that you decided to have a date in the garden?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“No, it wasn’t a date, we were just chatting. She was telling me a story about this haunted unmanned luxury liner, the ‘Queen Berry,’ and—wait a second, Victorique.” Kazuya was in the process of promptly leaving the conservatory, but he rushed back inside, and peered at Victorique, who was burying her face in her books. “How did you know I was there? Did you see me?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“No.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Then how did you know?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“The way I always know things, Kujou.” Victorique spoke wearily, without lifting her head from her books. “An overflowing wellspring of wisdom told it to me.” Ignoring Kazuya who was waiting impatiently for her next words, she puffed on her pipe and went on nonchalantly in her sing-song tone. “Kujou, you are a methodical and damnably serious bookworm.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…Well, pardon me for that.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“A person like you would scrupulously wear your hat when going out of doors in uniform. And so I see the marks on your hair of having worn your hat firmly about your head. And then there’s the pink flower petal stuck to your collar. That belongs to one of the pansies blooming in the gardens. Therefore, I may conclude that you were in the garden.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“But as far as being a date goes… For all you know, I could’ve been by myself….”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Kujou, you’re in high spirits this morning. I heard your enthusiastic footsteps while you were climbing the staircase.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Huh…?” Is that so? wondered Kazuya to himself. He thought he had climbed it the same way he always did…. With even footsteps, and his head held up high….

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Victorique coldly spit out her next words. “Your responses to my utterances have also been unusually cheerful. It goes without saying that there can be only one reason for such exuberant behavior by the male of the species—that is, lust. Kujou, you were carried away by your unseemly lust and became excessively excited. But there would be no reason to feel lustful in the garden all by yourself. This implies that you were there with a woman. And it must be a woman that you are fond of. This is what the wellspring of wisdom has said to me.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“No, Victorique… Please choose your words more carefully. I mean, ‘lust’… and the ‘unseemly’ and all that is really unnecessary, too….” Kazuya’s face turned bright red, and he sat down, hugging his knees. It wasn’t the first time that Victorique had deduced his behavior sight unseen, but today’s instance was particularly embarrassing. He stared resentfully at her profile. “You guessed it, huh…. I’ve got to hand it to you….”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">At first, Victorique gave no response, and merely went on reading her books. But after a delay, Kazuya’s words finally seemed to reach her brain, and she nodded. “Yes. I have honed my senses so that I may take in the fragments of chaos in this world, and allow my ‘wellspring of wisdom’ to toy with them, and in this way, relieve my boredom. In other words, I reconstruct them. And when I feel like it, I may even articulate the process so that even a mediocre individual like yourself may understand. Well, generally that’s too much trouble, so usually I’d rather just stay silent.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…Then why don’t you stay silent in front of me?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“I suppose that’s because the mere sight of you makes me want to tease you.” With this, Victorique said no more, and only plunged her face deeper and deeper into her books.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Kazuya gazed at Victorique’s profile, his shoulders slumping.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Kazuya Kujou, as a student bright enough to be sent abroad as a representative for his country, would normally never allow himself to be called a “mediocre individual”. But when it came to Victorique, this strange noble-born girl who had never shown up for class even once, for some reason he couldn’t find it in himself to come up with a retort.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">In fact, Kazuya didn’t know much at all about Victorique’s upbringing or what sort of girl she was.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">This girl was absolutely beautiful, absolutely tiny, absolutely intelligent, and completely unapproachable. She had been given a boy’s name for some reason, and was slightly mad, but she may very well have been a genius. According to several informed sources, he had heard that she was an illegitimate daughter from an aristocratic family; that her relatives inexplicably feared her and hadn’t wanted to leave her in their mansion, and so had sent her to this school; that her mother was a famous dancer, and was insane; that she was the incarnation of a legendary grey wolf, and had been seen devouring raw meat…. True to the reputation of a school riddled with ghost stories, the rumors about her had gotten steadily more dubious.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Kazuya had never asked Victorique about these things. As the son of an imperial soldier, it would be unacceptable for him to look at a person with such base curiosity. Furthermore, Victorique herself was such a bizarre person that he had no idea where to begin with his questions.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">And so, despite knowing nothing about her, he continued to go through the trouble of climbing the stairs to this conservatory, where he would get angry with Victorique and her sharp tongue. This was Kazuya’s … well, how shall we put it … daily life for now.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">*****

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Anyway, Victorique. You sure read a lot of books every day,” said Kazuya, still undeterred.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Victorique gave no response other than a slight nod.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Do you intend to read every book in this library?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">He had meant it in jest, but Victorique lifted her head, and casually pointed below the railing of the staircase. “I’ve just about finished reading everything on this wall. …Oh? Kujou, your eyeballs look as if they’re going to pop out of your head. What’s the matter?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“No… I was just surprised. What are you reading right now?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Lots of things.” Victorique yawned, then stretched like a cat, arching her back in the shape of a bow. “Oh, I’m so bored. There isn’t enough chaos to reconstruct. No matter how much I read, it still isn’t enough, Kujou.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…I think normally someone’s head would burst from just reading one of these,” Kazuya said, pointing at the book in Latin that lay opened in front of her.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Victorique had been opening her mouth wide in one yawn after another, but now her expression suddenly brightened. “I know, Kujou. Let me explain something to you.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Explain what?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“About this book. You know, this book … this one is about ancient methods of fortune-telling.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Fortune-telling? Not interested.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Makes no difference to me.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Huh… Why tell me, then?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Because I’m bored,” Victorique said with a nod, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Then she launched into a monologue, forcing Kazuya to stay put and listen just as he was about to escape out of disinterest. “According to this book, fortune-telling has gone hand in hand with human desires ever since ancient times. For example, in the ancient Roman empire, people would burn animal intestines and scapulae, then divine omens in the cracks that formed. This seems to have persisted up until the eleventh century, but one of the Christian ecumenical councils put a stop to it. And then there’s book divination, which is opening books and divining based on whatever is written on that particular page, which is another method that persisted from ancient times. The ancients would use the books of Homer, but the Christians began using the Bible. But the Church once again put a stop to it. …Hey, don’t fall asleep, Kujou. I’m dying of boredom here.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…Yes, sorry.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Therefore, fortune-telling became a heresy. But even though governments and the church prohibited it, people still continued to do it. Over the centuries, there were even many cases of clergymen secretly performing it in churches. Do you know why that is?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Well…”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Victorique removed the pipe from her mouth and exhaled a mouthful of smoke. Then she wearily declared, “Because it worked.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…Surely not.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“The ancient Roman emperor Valens felt insecure over his own position, so he called a fortune teller to divine the name of the person who was threatening him. That is, he wrote out the alphabet on a level surface using animal feed, then released chickens to eat it. The outcome was that the chickens ate the feed on the letters that read, ‘T’, ‘H’, ‘E’, ‘O’, ‘D’. The emperor interpreted that as a reference to the name ‘Theodorus’, and had everyone in the empire bearing that name put to death. However, the name of the next person who would go on to rule the empire happened to be Theodosius. That means he had the wrong person.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…That’s a disturbing story.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Listen to me seriously. I’m about to fall asleep out of boredom.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Sorry.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Various reports attest that the most reliable method of divination uses an object known as the ‘magic mirror’. This mirror, also depicted in Leonardo Da Vinci’s painting ‘Witch Using a Magic Mirror’, is the predecessor to the crystal ball. One prepares a silver jar filled with wine, a copper one filled with oil, and a glass one filled with water, then performs the divination for three days and three nights. The copper jar represents the past, the glass jar the present, and the silver jar the future, and these are then reflected in the magic mirror.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Victorique swiftly opened a book to a page with a diagram of a woman clad head to toe in a red cloth, holding a golden mirror, and with three jars in front of her. White-cloaked men bowed before her with their foreheads to the ground.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Victorique turned the page, all while continuing to speak without pause.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Kazuya listened to her quietly, afraid of provoking her. He remembered how in the country where he had been born and raised, women would obediently walk three paces behind men. Kazuya himself still couldn’t quite get used to dealing with the type of girl who would walk three paces ahead of him, and turn around yelling, “Hurry up!”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Everything was for the sake of his studies, he thought to himself. The pursuit of knowledge was a difficult thing. And he was getting sleepy.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“And then, the description of staff divination used by the prophet Moses, as depicted in the Book of Numbers, is also very interesting. In order to find out which tribe the leader of the Israelites would come from, they prepared twelve staffs with the names of each tribe written on them, and divined from those.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…Huh. Anyway, I’m pretty surprised.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“About what?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“I didn’t think you would believe in fortune-telling.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“I never said I believed in it.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Oh?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Victorique pulled out yet another book from the mountain of opened books radiating around her. She opened it up and showed it to Kazuya, but he immediately shrunk away from it when he saw that it was written in difficult-looking German. Victorique reached out her small hands and shoved the book at him.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Kazuya gave up on trying to run away. “…What’s that book?”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“It’s on psychology. Now I suppose I owe a block-headed, half-witted savant like you an explanation. ‘Why do people believe in fortune-telling?’”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Huh…”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Because it works. Not in the objective sense, of course. It works in the subjective sense. That means one feels as if it works. That is the innate power of the superstition known as fortune-telling, and that is why it’s persisted ever since the premodern era. That means it’s supported by the psychology of the masses of people who want it to work. …In other words, the craze for ghost stories that infests this school follows the same principle. Everyone is an unconscious accomplice, operating in tandem.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Yeah…”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“And so, this points to three possible causes for correct instances of divination. The first one is that only the occasions where it has worked are the ones left in the historical record. The countless times that it was off are left sleeping in the shadow of the times that it was accurate. The second one is that it works depending on the skill of the fortune-teller to guess the wishes of the supplicant by reading his facial expressions. And the third one is when any answer may do.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Mmm…”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“For example, Kujou, let’s say that before you came to study in this country, you had your fortune read to predict what sort of life you would lead as a foreign student. If it came out favorable, then if you ended up doing well in school after you arrived here, you would think it was accurate. If it came out unfavorable, then whenever something unpleasant happened, you would still think it was accurate.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Uh-huh…”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…This is what happened with the emperor Valens, whom I mentioned previously. The five letters that the chickens chose could have been combined into any number of combinations. But the emperor personally suspected a young man by the name of Theodorus, and that’s why he combined the resulting letters into that name. This meant that fortune-telling was simply a superstition that he used to support his preexisting psychological state, a shove on the back to push him into something that he had already set his heart on doing. It was nothing more than a mere device in order to duck responsibility for his—argh!”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Wh-wh-what happened?!”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">Victorique, who until now had been engaged in a lively monologue, had suddenly plunged her small, golden-haired head into her hands and groaned. Kazuya jumped up, concerned that she had finally gone completely mad.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">But she only glared at him balefully. “Explaining this to a mediocre person like you only made me even more bored!”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“…Th-that’s a rude thing to say.”

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:14.65pt;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-size:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Helvetica","sans-serif";color:#666666">“Ugh, my chest hurts. This boredom is getting painful. …Now, how will you take responsibility for this?”

<p class="MsoNormal">

<ac_metadata title="GS"> </ac_metadata>