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He feels stupid. He fidgets slightly on the edge of his seat, sticking his hands underneath his knees to fight the urge to nervously tug onto his necktie ribbon. He’s pouting slightly, staring down into his plate with a pretend-bored expression in order to hide that; luckily for him, Rudolf doesn’t seem to notice, still immersed in a conversation with Jessica, if you can even call it that. A ‘conversation’ that consists of Battler’s foolish dad having the time of his life snickering at children, and Jessica trying to contradict him with short but passionate remarks, her small fists placed on top of the table. It does make Battler feel a little better to hear that Jessica has never seen anything of the like in all her life spent on the island. It doesn’t make him feel better to hear a slight unsure tremble in her voice at that, though. Battler tries to look unbothered for a moment more before the gear switches in his attitude and he realizes that he’s not the one who’s stupid; Rudolf is for thinking he can get him to believe in witches, of all things.
“I’m going to take a walk!” Battler announces, loudly, and stands up from the table, his chin up high.
“At this hour?” Rudolf’s voice is still full of amusement, and he grins at his son as he’s making his way towards the door of the dining hall. “The Witch is more likely to catch you when you are alone, you know!”
Battler ignores him. He catches a faint sigh of relief escaping Jessica’s lips before he steps too far away; the ‘conversation’ isn’t so likely to continue now that there’s one less child to torment, it seems. Battler doesn’t look at any of them again, making a show out of this, so he hears rather than sees his dad’s expression shift into an apologetic frown.
“At least take George with—”
Battler cuts this sentence short by closing the heavy door behind him. Mom is so going to hear about this tomorrow. He thinks briefly about going straight to the guest house, where Asumu went early after finishing her share of the dinner, whereas the rest stuck around to chat some more — it’s not every day that the family gets together, after all, but Battler doesn’t blame her for getting tired after such a stressful ride like this morning, either. He gives a yawn and a shiver at the memory alone. So, he thinks about keeping her company before sleep, if she’s awake still, but the thought fades away as soon as he realizes that all of the servants that would normally escort him are left in the dining hall, and there’s no way he’s going to return there so soon to ask, not after an exit like that. So, he sticks to wandering further along the hallway.
Now, Battler is not a child anymore: he just turned 8 this year, and that’s a prime age for him to stop believing everything his dad says and start believing his own guts and heart. Those are, of course, telling him that there is no way such thing as witches could possibly exist, meaning that he can wander in these halls for as long as he wants without anything remotely frightening happening. Still, he has to admit that the mansion on Rokkenjima is huge; Battler can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like for Jessica to live here and be able to find her way back to her bed every night. They played hide and seek this morning, and, if you asked Battler now which of these countless guest rooms Jessica was hiding in, he wouldn’t be able to tell.
He makes it to the end of this wing of the hallway and turns back, hands stuck into his pockets. There are windows on the wall spreading to both sides from the door that leads to the courtyard. He stops in front of one of them, peering out. The sun sets earlier in October, and it’s already late enough that it’s completely dark out. Battler can make out silhouettes of the trees that are swinging their top branches along with the wind. It’s not a particularly stormy night this year, without any rain to keep them confined within the mansion, but it is windy enough that the whistling of wind gusts circling around the closed courtyard makes Battler uncomfortable deep within. Nevertheless, he keeps staring out, but there’s nothing particularly interesting in there, no flickering orbs looking back at him from the darkness nor a cackling laugh mixed in with the wind. Of course not.
Battler finally lets out a breath he’s been holding, proud of himself for proving his dad wrong, even if just for the sake of his own peace of mind. He straightens his back, ready to turn and head back to the dining hall, when he hears a crack of the door opening next to him, followed by the wind gusts getting louder as they sneak into the hallway. The sound freezes him in place instantly, wide eyes watering. His heart is pounding in his chest, but he keeps to the spot until the next development.
The Witch sneezes behind his back. Battler lets out a short but loud yelp, sets to run, but trips over, falling onto his knees and curling into a ball right there on the floor. All of a second passes like this, before The Witch speaks up:
“...Are you okay?”
Battler opens his eyes one by one, switching his position slowly until he’s able to lift his head to look at the— girl. There’s no scary dark figure towering above him, neither is she wearing a long white dress that a ghost could have. Instead, Battler is faced with a little girl in a familiar uniform. She’s definitely younger than all of the other Ushiromiya servants — must be around his and Jessica’s age, if not younger, — but it is undoubtedly the same dress and skirt that the girls who greeted them this morning wore. There is even a white beret resting on top of her head, albeit a bit crooked. Battler blinks up at her.
“Are you crying..?”
Battler flushes at that and quickly wipes the tears from his face, standing up as he does to regain his posture. “I-I just fell. ...That’s all.”
Yasu awkwardly shifts on her two feet. She probably shouldn’t have meddled like this. Shannon wouldn’t; she would probably offer to help him up, gracefully, without further questions, and then escort him back to his room or wherever it was that he was heading. At the very least, Shannon wouldn’t have been so blunt with a young master, even if the boy was sitting on the floor with cheeks puffed and eyes red.
On top of that, Yasu doesn’t even know the boy’s name. She was told about all the important guests that were coming to the annual Family Conference, of course: the Head’s children and grandchildren, all of the branch families, — but there have never been so many of them in the mansion at once, and so Yasu wrinkles her forehead slightly, trying to remember. A boy Milady Jessica’s age. The son of Ushiromiya Rudolf, the third child. Ushiromiya… Ushiromiya…
“I’m Battler! It’s nice to meet you.”
Battler-san.
He’s smiling at her now, whatever fear and later embarrassment he felt just moments ago completely gone from his expression. His face is still slightly flushed, but it’s overshadowed by the bright glint in his eyes. His hand is outstretched, and she looks at it confused for a moment before grasping the folds of her skirts to bow.
“I’m a servant here, pleased to make your acquaintance. Yasuda...Sayo.”
“I see! Sayo-chan, is it?” he lets his hand drop back to his side, then uses it to sheepishly scratch the back of his head. “I would think you’re a little young to be working here, though.”
Battler looks her up and down, curiously. Yasu doesn’t blame him; she’s only been working in the main house for a few months, and, while everyone in the mansion has already gotten used to it, it must still come as a surprise to less frequent visitors.
“I attend grade school together with Milady Jessica on weekdays.” Yasu says. “Although that is only part of my responsibilities, I am also here to… serve the Ushiromiya family.”
Battler ponders that thought for a moment.
“You are Jessica’s friend, then?” then he shrugs it off, a smile returning to his face. “Ah, well, as long as you’re not Beatrice, it’s all fine for me, ihi!”
Yasu wasn’t initially supposed to work today; that is, if you ask Natsuhi, at least. Madam Natsuhi is always a little on the edge around the time of the conference, from what Kumasawa-san has told her, and it was only natural for her not to want Yasu around today, not when there’s not much she could help with, anyway. Yasu felt she’d rather that turn of events as well; Fukuin House was lonely, but being here on the day of the Family Conference to greet all of the guests would require making a good impression, which really wasn’t something she was particularly good at. Nevertheless, it seemed that someone, presumably Genji-san, told her that simply seeing the Family Conference, even without taking part in it first-hand, would serve as a good reference to Sayo’s future years of work.
Raking the leaves in the courtyard was supposed to be a short task. The wind made the whole activity a little bit trickier, but not so much that she couldn’t gather everything into a big messy pile in the corner and call it a day. By the time she did, though, Beatrice apparently decided that letting Yasu go back into the servant waiting room right away would have been too boring, because the rake itself got buried somewhere among all of the leaves, inviting Yasu to look for it until dark.
Battler probably catches her looking back at the closed door with a frown, because he tilts his head with a question. “Are you alright?”
“You shouldn’t say Beatrice’s name so lightly.” she says, seriously. “She’s very ruthless and ready to play pranks on anyone, no matter if they are new on Rokkenjima.”
Battler shifts uncomfortably under her gaze.
“Don’t tell me they scared you with stories of the witch too? I would think uncle Krauss and aunt Natsuhi were different, not like my old man…”
Yasu is still unsure on how to behave around him, when he talks to her so freely. Although formally she was hired to keep Jessica company, she has barely even had time to talk to her aside from the short conversation on what awaits them during the day that they’ve had during their walks to and from school. She’s barely exchanged a word with Master Krauss since they were introduced to each other, and the daily exchanges with Madam Natsuhi are as formal as can be. Battler-san, though, doesn’t seem to notice the great difference in their ranks in the slightest.
“I have come here in search of the witch, and I haven’t met anyone but you, Sayo-chan.” Battler says, his chin sticking up in a proud manner again. “So I assure you that there’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of.”
“Beatrice exists, though. I’ve met her.”
The words leave Yasu’s mouth before she can really think through where she should have— yet another thing Shannon has yet to teach her how to control and which will probably cause her a great deal of trouble until then. Still, this response is natural to her. At the very least, if she can warn someone about the witch’s doings, it must be in her duty to do so, too.
“H-have you, now?” Battler’s eyes instantly go wide, and he follows her eyes to where they unconsciously go when the sour memories of tonight’s incident return. “...In the courtyard?”
It looks as though it’s even darker there now, but Battler averts his eyes from the window much quicker this time, certainly unwilling to see or hear anything strange if it suddenly shows up. He crosses his arms on his chest, a nervous gesture, and focuses his gaze on Yasu’s still serious face, probably just to feel the presence of another human person in the hall.
“...They shouldn’t be sending a cute little girl like you somewhere so late, like this...” he mumbles, just to himself.
There are steps echoing further in the hallway, coming from the direction of the dining hall, and they both turn their heads to look there. They don’t have much time to speculate who the steps might belong to, though, them being followed by a distant voice fairly quickly:
“Baaattler!” Rudolf calls out. “It’s time to go, you little brat.”
Battler lights up slightly at his dad’s voice, which he then instantly tries to hide from himself with a scoff. Previous sleepiness catches up with him when he realizes they are about to head to the guest house, and he leaves out a yawn.
“It’s a goodnight, then…” he hesitates, looking between the direction of the dining hall and Yasu still next to him on the other side. He almost takes a step to leave before stopping for another moment to look at her. “Ah, I’m leaving tomorrow— But do come out to play with us next year, Sayo-chan, alright?” he rushes off after giving her a grin and a wave, so that Yasu’s not even sure if her quiet ‘yes’ actually reaches his ears.
When all the footsteps become a very distant echo, she finds herself leaving a yawn of her own.