10. Demon in a Bottle (7)
10. Demon in a Bottle (7)
Honk.
Hobbs blew the horn.
It was the signal that the break was over and training was about to begin.
The members of Papael Circus each headed to their stations.
Only Hobbs and Karen remained in the break room.
Both had separate schedules for the day. They began changing into their going-out clothes.
Neither turned away or covered up as they undressed. The sight of each other's bare skin wasn't noteworthy between them.
"What'd you say you were doing today?"
Hobbs buttoned his shirt as he answered Karen's question.
"It's been ages since I was back at the school. Ought to pay my respects to the professors."
He was a graduate. If he visited the city without so much as showing his face, the professors would be disappointed. Besides, he needed to register for the exam, so he was bound to visit the school anyway.
Fully dressed, he hung his Class 7 graduate pendant around his neck and glanced back.
His sister stood there clad in a black full-body leotard that clung tight to her skin.
A sigh slipped out before he could stop it.
"You're seriously planning to go out like that?"
"Obviously not just like this."
She scooped a pair of half-pants off the floor, pulled them on, and threw on a cropped jacket that barely covered her chest. She finished getting ready to go out by stepping into a battered pair of grimy sneakers.
Karen glanced up at her brother's disapproving stare and answered in a flat, indifferent voice.
"Why the sudden fuss? This is how I've always dressed."
"Yeah, but... before, your hair was cropped short so everyone just figured you were a boy. You've grown it out now. It's obvious you're a girl."
"So what."
Her apathetic response made Hobbs groan inwardly.
Ever since the showdown at the Rose Windmill, he'd tried several times to get her into clothes that suited a girl her age. But every time, she insisted her usual leotard was comfortable and went wandering the streets dressed exactly like this.
Hobbs didn't consider himself strict about gender distinctions. The issue here wasn't about men versus women at all.
Even their young male troupe members would be horrified if told to go outside dressed like that.
When she'd been in her early teens, people dismissed her as just a weird boy, but those days were long gone. Her unkempt hair jutting every which way, her swaggering stride, her whole manner — all of it was still the same. But the pretty features underneath could no longer be hidden.
Her looks had improved dramatically in the past year. On top of that, the long hair now made it impossible for anyone not to see she was a girl.
If her leotard were at least made of thick, jet-black material, maybe people would cut her some slack — chalk it up to being an acrobat. But the one she wore around day after day was as thin as stockings, her skin half-visible through the fabric.
The adults who'd known her since childhood had learned to shrug it off, but the younger troupe members would turn red-faced with secondhand embarrassment. Whenever they complained, she'd fire back that she'd been watching old men in tights with their bulges outlined since she was five years old.
Hobbs tried to project confidence and charisma in front of the troupe. When it came to his sister, keeping up that image was nearly impossible.
From the moment they'd teamed up, their rule had been to stay out of each other's business. But ever since their father passed, a heavy sense of responsibility for her had lodged itself in his chest.
Lately, that had deepened into a gnawing worry about her future.
She'd just turned seventeen. Opportunities existed for her — far better ones than the life of a wandering acrobat's apprentice.
Was it really acceptable to keep dragging her along with him? Surrounded by men in tights?
He couldn't convince himself he was raising her the right way. That was part of why he'd brought her out today: to explore some new possibilities.
"While I'm inside the school taking care of business, you're going to get fitted for a uniform."
"Ugh, what a pain. Why would I even need to go to school?"
Hobbs threw her a baffled look at her grumbling.
"Not a fan? Funny, you used to whine constantly about wanting to hang out with kids your age."
"Pfft. That was ages ago..."
"If you want, I can get you enrolled at Rekachev. Doesn't have to be a circus school; I can get you into something else. Or I can ask our patron to look into other paths—"
He stopped short. His sister was scowling straight at him.
"The hell's gotten into you? Why yank my chain all of a sudden? Weren't you the one working me like a mule with that contract?"
The word "contract" made his face sour.
That document they'd drawn up when she was four was closer to a slave pact. Unconditional obedience to the troupe leader's orders. Payment issued only when the troupe leader's pocket had enough to spare. Every clause stacked against her.
Of course, he hadn't actually treated her like a slave. He'd only needed leverage to keep her in line during the grueling years of building up the circus.
But these days she liked to tell him how there'd been nothing more vicious than watching her brother — the one person she'd trusted — wave that contract in front of a worn-out, whimpering child. She'd said she'd cried a lot in private, feeling utterly betrayed.
Whenever the contract came up, he lost every argument before it started.
"And now you're telling me to go do something else? The only thing I've learned here is how to stick my head between a bunch of reeking old guys' crotches."
"Ahem."
The coachman let out a pointed cough. They were in an ordinary passenger carriage; the soundproofing was nonexistent.
"Hey, don't say stuff people are gonna take the wrong way."
Karen giggled at her brother's flustered reaction.
"Anyway, I'll handle this auditing thing, so stop worrying. The patron asked for it, right? Guess she's happy enough people are talking about me. I'll see you after. Later."
Karen unwrapped a lollipop from the carriage stash, popped it into her mouth, and hurriedly stepped out.
"Wha—hey, miss!"
The coachman cried out in alarm, but she'd already backflipped once in the air, converted her forward momentum into a spinning rotation, and landed softly on the ground. For an acrobat of her caliber, a maneuver like that was trivial.
She signaled to the coachman that she was fine. Rolling the candy around in her mouth, she watched the carriage pull into the school lot.
The conversation had ended awkwardly, but she wasn't so dense that she hadn't understood what her brother was worried about.
She simply had no intention of leaving the circus.
Why did so many fathers in the traveling circus world keep their daughters close? Because unlike boys, a girl cast out into the world with nothing but her bare hands had few decent options. Making money with the acrobatic skills she'd learned since infancy, staying with the troupe — that was the safe, guaranteed path.
"Now all of a sudden he wants to play parent. Worry about yourself instead. A bachelor pushing forty any day now."
She muttered with a complicated expression and turned into the alley.
Fewer people paid attention to her than she'd expected. Any ordinary crowded street would have drawn stares instantly in what she was wearing, but this was the alley in front of Rekachev. Most people around here were either circus-school students or outside performers. Many of them were dressed in far more flamboyant and bizarre outfits than she was. It let her walk around a bit more freely than usual.
She spotted the uniform shop and began heading inside without a second thought. A young clerk noticed her and shouted.
"The girls' uniforms are on the other side!"
Ah.
Karen glanced around. Other than a few adults, nearly everyone was a boy. She'd followed her usual habits and drifted toward the men's side, which was how she'd ended up here.
She stepped back out of the shop, but couldn't quite bring herself to head into the girls' store. There was one thing that always made her — so bold everywhere else — come up short.
Girls her own age.
Karen was female, but she'd been raised surrounded by men from the start. She had no trouble mixing it up with guys, but dealing with girls felt profoundly awkward. Her face would go red and an inexplicable shyness would creep over her.
She got especially tongue-tied around pretty girls, unable to figure out where to put her eyes. Her fierce mouth and her bold, no-hesitation attitude only kicked in when she was around men.
"You. What are you doing? Going in or what?"
A group of upper-year girls had crowded up right behind her.
Karen flinched and stepped hurriedly aside. She froze under their gaze.
"G-go on ahead."
They tilted their heads at the sight of her all tensed up.
"New student?"
"Dunno. Didn't see her at the entrance exam. An auditing student, maybe?"
"Could be a recommended admit."
"Either way, interesting outfit."
Karen's ears twitched. Every offhand remark they made about her sent her heart thumping.
But they weren't paying her any special attention. They just traded a few words among themselves while walking into the shop.
The trail of powder and perfume they left behind made her head spin. She wanted to yank at her own hair. Why am I such a wreck around girls? Damn, I should've dragged a couple of the guys from the troupe along.
Just then, someone shouted from further down the alley.
"It's the Golden Libra!"
"What?"
"The Golden Libra, isn't that..."
"Lord Fantastic's daughter!"
"Reina Magier!"
Karen had heard the name a few times. She was that famous. Apparently, she'd come to get ready for her own audit classes too. Karen watched Reina pass through the crowd.
Through thick waves of glossy golden hair, a face like glacier ice — cold yet dazzlingly bright — revealed itself. Her tall, model-like build and mature figure made Karen's confidence crater.
'Papael's pretty-girl acrobat.' Yeah, sure. She only looks that way because she's standing next to a bunch of dudes in tights. God, I hope she never read that article about me. So embarrassing.
She noticed a few Rekachev students sneering as Reina passed by.
"Why's she walking all stiff like that?"
"Probably wearing a diaper, heh-heh."
Reina had to have heard them. She merely let one cold smile flicker across her face, showed no other reaction, and strode majestically on her way.
'Wow. She's incredible. Self-esteem through the roof. Absolutely the type who never leans on anyone.'
Her face, her figure, her skills, her mental strength — compared to Reina, Karen fell short in every possible category. She prayed she wouldn't run into her inside the school.
She lingered a while longer in the alley. As the afternoon wore on, the number of students thinned out. Once it died down just a little more, she'd go into the clothing store. The thought of stepping into a crowded fitting room where everyone would see each other undressed — especially with her own scrawny body on display — was mortifying.
That was when another part of the alley stirred with commotion.
"It's Ella!"
"Who's that?"
"You know. The girl who went toe-to-toe with Reina at the entrance exam."
"Whoa, she's here to audit classes too?"
Every gaze converged on a single point. Walking there was a dark-haired girl alongside a man who looked like her guardian.
Her stride radiated confidence in a completely different way than Reina's. Where Reina projected an aura that kept everyone at a distance, Ella walked as if daring anyone who wanted to come at her to give it their best shot.
A vague recollection stirred: Karen had seen something about her in the morning paper. The troupe members had spent the whole time clowning around about "Papael's pretty girl," so she hadn't absorbed much, but they'd definitely said she was on par with Reina.
Ella navigated the crowd smoothly, answering questions with practiced ease and trading light banter as she made her way through. Her skill at handling an audience was something else. The atmosphere around her and the people in her orbit was warm and cheerful.
'Must be nice. A happy little bluebird, loved and doted on by her parents, probably never faced a real hardship her whole life.'
Other girls were focusing on the man trailing behind Ella. Karen felt zero interest in him. The thought that drifted through her head as she looked at Wonderstein was closer to what the men around her were thinking.
Oh, he's good-looking. Lucky her.
After those two storms had passed, the alley grew noticeably quiet. Peering into the shop, she saw the crowd had thinned out a lot. One employee was even sitting in a chair resting.
Karen seized her chance and walked in. At the same moment, another person entered beside her.
The sight of that child sent Karen's heart plummeting straight into her stomach.
'She's... she's adorable. Like a literal doll.'
Snow-white hair. Snow-white skin. Features that looked like a god had molded them one by one with painstaking care. Large, luminous red eyes that glittered with quiet calm.
Karen found herself blurting out a greeting before she could stop herself.
"O-oh, hi?"
Maya stared blankly at the girl who had suddenly addressed her.