12. Rekachev Circus School Trial (5)
12. Rekachev Circus School Trial (5)
The party started late in the afternoon and didn't last long.
The sun was going down. Arno's promised window was nearly up.
Soon the reporters would realize they'd been played. They'd come storming back to their posts.
Karen and Ruelo needed to reach their lodgings before that happened. Once night fell, the reporters mostly prowled around the Papael or Morning Star troupes—not out here near the nobles' villas, where the police were thicker.
"A shame, but it can't be helped. Let's meet up again after the exam. Best of luck to all of you."
Karen, still rigged out as the Headless Knight, climbed into the carriage.
Tomorrow was the roll call for the Rekachev Circus School preliminary exam. Of the five troupes, the Golden Carnival, the Silver Screen Circus, and the Monster Circus were testing this month. The other two had arrived in the city late and would test next month.
"I'll come watch tomorrow, Clara!"
Ruelo offered her well-wishes too, but Clara refused to accept them gracefully. She fixed Ruelo with a pointed, mock-offended look.
"You said you'd cheer for the Silver Screen Circus."
"Th-that was... I-I mean... p-please stop...."
Ruelo's flustered squirming set everybody off.
Earlier, Ella and Reina had decided to mess with Karen and Ruelo by making them declare who they'd support in the October Test. Karen, sharp enough to read the intent behind their faces, immediately swore allegiance to the Monster Circus Troupe.
Once Karen staked her claim, Ruelo was cornered. Her heart was plainly with the Monster Circus, but saying so risked wounding Reina—whom no one else would have picked.
"Luri, who are you gonna root for?"
"Us, obviously. We have more mutual friends with you than Reina does."
"Poor Reina. Not a single friend cheering for her."
In the end, Ruelo said she'd cheer for the Golden Carnival.
The three Trimery Triplets, standing nearby, let out pointed sighs loud enough to carry.
"Knew it! The Golden Carnival's got top-tier acrobats!"
"Right. Cheering for riffraff like us would just be humiliating!"
"Disappointing. I honestly thought we'd gotten close...."
"N-no, guys, th-that's not... not what I...."
Ruelo waved her arms, scrambling to do damage control. That was when Umon appeared behind her wearing a wounded expression.
"Is cheering for us really so embarrassing?"
"U-Umon, n-no...."
One by one, everyone piled on. Ruelo's face grew redder and redder until she finally shrieked.
"I said no!"
She stood there huffing, on the edge of tears.
If Yurakne hadn't hurried over to soothe her, she likely would have burst into sobs then and there.
Ruelo glared at the people grinning mischievously at her.
Why did the older girls love teasing her so much?
She scowled at those smiles, yanked her chick hat down, and shouted,
"I-I've changed my mind! I want the Silver Screen to win!"
The sight was so adorable that everyone burst out laughing.
Now, pouting at the memory, she climbed into the carriage with her bottom lip jutting out. The demon living in her hair watched the snickering crowd behind her and whispered.
"Humans. Worse than I expected. Say the word, and I'll slaughter the lot of them."
Her hair bristled up into blade-like spikes. Ruelo yelped and stopped him.
"S-Samson, that's not... they were just teasing...."
She trailed off. Laughter rippled through her hair.
"Heh. Naive. Did you honestly think I meant it?"
"Wha— you... you too...?!"
"I see their point. You're fun to tease."
"Y-you... keep it up and I won't wash my hair tonight."
"H-hey. That's... playing dirty."
The carriage carrying Karen and Ruelo departed.
Those who remained gathered in the yard before heading inside. Clara ran through the schedule she'd worked up.
"The troupe's been asked to arrive at the school by seven tomorrow morning. We're bringing everyone, so I've arranged three carriages. Departure is at four-thirty. If we arrive exactly on schedule, reporters will hassle us at the entrance, so I'm aiming for an hour early. That means factoring in washing up and getting ready... everyone up at three-thirty. Does that work? I'll come knock on every door. Yurakne, we'll wake you thirty minutes earlier. And everyone's attire is what we decided on yesterday—dress accordingly."
Ella nodded, satisfied.
Clara's crisp, no-nonsense organizing had unquestionably lightened the Deputy Leader's load.
The meeting broke up just past six in the evening. The sky was already dark as midnight. In a polar city like Yeterinpurk, the nights lengthened fast as winter crept closer.
Getting Wonderstein back to his room fell to Reina. She'd said she wanted to talk before returning to her own quarters.
***
I sat in my wheelchair and studied Reina once we were inside the room.
The Weeping Woman.
A mask steeped in the legend of a woman driven by vengeance—eerie, and yet somehow sorrowful.
I pulled up the Member Management Window to check her status.
Name: Reina Magier
Age: 19
Affection level: 10 (Next reward: Affection level 15)
Title: Golden Libra
Occupation: Tightrope acrobat
Traits
: [Persona - Weeping Woman]
I'd opened and closed her Status Window dozens of times today alone. Three details caught my eye every time.
The first was her age.
Nineteen—two years older than her publicly known age. There were enough clues to piece it together. She'd been sold through the slave market, had her appearance altered, and been reborn as "Reina Magier."
Her legal identity had begun with a four-year-old Reina, but the actual age of her physical body could easily have differed.
The fact that her body developed earlier than her peers' had a reason.
The second detail was her Affection level.
Her fondness toward me still hovered at ten. That she trusted me enough to confide something this secret while her Affection level remained that low meant the warmth she showed outwardly wasn't directed at me alone.
She was reliving, through me, her experiences with the "kind father" of her past.
In other words, the confessions, the playful affection—none of it was meant for me. It was aimed at the Simon of ten years ago.
That explained why, no matter how well I treated her, her Affection level stayed flat. The person she liked wasn't the human Wonderstein. It was the character she called "Dad."
That psychological state had unquestionably shaped the appearance of this new trait.
Name: Persona - Weeping Woman
Target: Weeping Woman Mask
Effect: Only the person who gifted the mask may put it on or remove it.
Resource: None.
My body wasn't in peak condition, but pulling off a single mask was still well within my power.
Before that, though, I needed to understand how things had come to this. I'd never seen a troupe member develop a trait like this before.
"Reina, could you start by telling me what happened in Wonderland? You mentioned the mask hasn't come off since the day before you returned home."
The mask hid her expression, but I could feel her agitation. And her deep reluctance to begin.
I waited, patiently, for her courage to surface. Not long after, she let out a sound—something between weeping and fury, echoing the mask's frozen expression—and poured out the story of seeking out Solane Magier's theater.
The moment I heard she'd gone looking for her mother, I guessed what she'd walked into and swallowed a sigh.
The story unfolded exactly as I'd anticipated.
I turned my head away.
A habit of mine, whenever the mood turned sorrowful or grave. My own small gesture of consideration—keeping the smile on my face out of the other person's sight.
"Yes. My whole life... it was all a lie."
When she finished, she gulped back sobs as though fighting off tears. I used the Sound Room Function to ensure no one else could hear her voice.
"The sound's blocked. You can cry as much as you need."
At that, she crumpled to the floor and wept. The expression frozen on her mask made those grief-stricken sobs look even more heartbreaking.
I forced my stiff arm to move and patted her back. She buried her face against my legs and cried harder.
I was beginning to piece together the nature of the curse placed on her.
A Persona was something forged from the role one played on stage. And she had just realized that the life she'd lived was itself a stage—one where she'd performed the character of "Reina Magier."
Personas could be swapped. But without peeling the skin from a living face, there was no changing them. So she'd used the mask she happened to be wearing as a replacement Persona.
So far, this was all speculation on my part. But it held together.
"I'm sorry, Troupe Leader. You have nothing to do with any of this... dragging you into my personal life...."
Once the tears were spent, her emotions seemed to have settled enough for her to start apologizing. I shook my head with a dry smile.
"No. It's all right. You can lean on me anytime."
Strictly speaking, I wasn't uninvolved in her situation.
The vice-chairman of Comprachicos—the child-selling merchant association—was the Crow Witch, one of Wonderstein's Three Sisters. And the chairman was me.
Every major criminal syndicate's top boss in TT3 was Wonderstein. The Three Witches each served as a syndicate's second-in-command. True, it was the witches who actually ran day-to-day operations, not me—but I couldn't deny standing at the back of all those schemes.
I looked at her, face streaked with tears she couldn't wipe away because of the mask, and decided to wrap this up.
"I think I can remove it if I use my power."
"A-are you sure? In your condition?"
"Ah, I said 'power,' but it's not really a matter of physical strength. Come closer."
A Persona could be swapped with training.
Hawk had mentioned that he could shift between his guard uniform and his acrobat's performance attire after about a day of meditation. Ultimately, a Persona was a matter of mindset.
When I'd suggested she spend the day enjoying herself, I'd assumed the mask was stuck because she'd been cooped up in a mansion hounded by reporters. The real cause was something else entirely.
Mere meditation wasn't going to help her overcome the identity crisis she was trapped in now.
I reached out and lifted the mask from her face.
"Ah."
Her face was revealed. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but still as sharp and cold as a sculpture.
I thought that settled it. A powerful binding, sure—but if it came off as soon as I touched it, it wasn't such a big deal.
"Are you all right?"
At my question, Reina—now maskless—blinked up at me like a chick fresh out of its shell. Then she tilted her head and, in a guileless voice, answered my question with one of her own.
"Dad?"
Checking her status through the Member Management Window, I froze.
The moment the mask came off, a new trait had surfaced.
Name: Reina Magier
Age: 19
Affection level: 10 (Next reward: Affection level 15)
Title: Golden Libra
Occupation: Tightrope acrobat
Traits
: [Shadow - 4-year-old Reina]