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Introduction
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Fuga — What the Organist Plays is the fifty-nineth chapter of Jun Mochizuki's The Case Study of Vanitas.
This article contains plot and/or ending details for The Case Study of Vanitas.
Read at your own risk.
Summary[]
A song plays out in the darkness, its iconic and somber melody complimentarily contrasting with the child-like tones of the music box that plays its tune. The Teacher identifies the song as Bach’s Fugue in G Minor[1] and praises the girl’s fine choice in music. In the endless darkness that surrounds them both, the Teacher and the girl sit together at a table sharing tea as little toys and trinkets float around them. The girl wryly comments that the toy had been brought by the Teacher himself, but he retorts that he doesn’t remember everything he has brought. The Teacher serves himself a fresh cup of tea and muses that as much as he likes canons, he much prefers fugues. The girl remarks the lack of difference between them since both hinge on their repetition of melodies. The Teacher disagrees. He thinks of strict imitations as dull and boring. In comparison, fugues change and develop flexibly and freely. As a result, they make a perfect accompaniment for what he calls the tragedy of Garnet.
Astolfo was collapsed on the ground curled in on himself, only a threadbare blanket covering his agonized form. Around him, beyond the door, the gossiping voices of other Chasseurs milled about as they spoke of him. That Astolfo had finally woke up and even met with their commander, Charles, who planned to make him the twelfth Paladin one day despite his near dead state. Astolfo sobbed. In his hands he cradled the dagger his father had gifted him before that tragedy occurred. They continued gossipping outside the door. The House of Granatum, also known as the House of Garnet, gained their status from their contribution to the War just as the House of Obsidian. To the side, Gano and Ogier watched their coworkers drinking and laughing. If the sole survivor of the Granatums rose to the rank of Paladin in order to avenge his family’s deaths…
Ogier finished the thought. It would be the perfect kind of beloved story to feed to the populace. Gano with a wide smirk added that Astolfo would thus make a perfect symbol for the Vampire Eradication Faction and began walking off. Ogier meanwhile sighed with exasperation at how terrifying their commander Charles was. It would’ve been kinder to let Astolfo die.
Roland sat with his brows furrowed and lips pursed in anger and irritation. Olivier, sitting across from him and nursing a glass of wine, commented on how unhappy he looked. Roland snapped an affirmative, recalling the awful tragedy of the Granatums. Astolfo as the lone survivor was still dealing with the shock from that, with the guilt from that, and to force him to fight? He cursed out his fellow Chasseurs and adamantly insisted that Astolfo should be allowed to heal. Olivier stared quietly at his friend. He set down his glass of wine and remarked: Roland had never intensely hated anyone before. Roland blinked. He thought about it. He yelled that Olivier was completely right. Olivier looking down confessed that he himself had. Though he called his own emotions trivial in comparison to what Astolfo felt, as if such things could be compared at all—Olivier still affirmed that hatred to be the reason he still stood now. It could keep people alive, to the point where it was the only reason some could survive. Roland remembered when he first found and saved Astolfo, how the boy clung to him. Olivier told Roland to not take that away from him.
An urgent banging on the door. A nun called for Olivier, shouting about Astolfo. The group of them went running to Astolfo’s room, where they found the boy curled up in the corner. He was trembling badly, muttering half-coherent pleas for help, and his clothes were stained with blood. The rest of the belongings in the room were destroyed, and a snapped rosary lay at Astolfo’s feet. The nun explained that Astolfo seemed to have had a nightmare, and thus flew into a rage that escalated into him hurting himself. Roland approached the boy carefully, and though Astolfo flinched, he finally raised his head to the “Lord Knight” who saved him. Roland then saw the injuries Astolfo sustained: he had gouged at the places where the Vampires Marked him.
Roland reached out. He pulled Astolfo into a tight and harm hug. He reassured the boy that everything was alright, that he would stay with him, that there was nothing to be afraid of. Astolfo’s tearful eyes widened and he clung to Roland, squeezing back tightly as he sobbed in the man’s embrace. Inches away at their feet, the broken rosary continued to lay.
From then on Roland honored his promise to Astolfo. He stayed by the boy’s side no matter what. He slept as his bedside while Astolfo continued to recover, the boy clinging to Roland’s cloak even in his sleep. He kept Astolfo company as he remained bedridden, Astolfo reading books to pass the time that Roland found he couldn’t read himself. He let Astolfo watch him training with the other Chasseurs and best every man who tried to take him in combat. And even as Astolfo grew strong enough to leave his bed, grew taller and older as time went on, Roland continued to stay with him. And thus, slowly,Astolfo began to smile again. And Roland always smiled back.
And the entire time they spent together, Roland prayed to his God for guidance. How could he save this child?
Some time later in Astolfo’s room, Roland did pushups on the floor while Astolfo sat on his back to serve as a weight and told the older man about his day. In that day’s lessons, he’d been taught about Altus, the world in which Vampires dwelled. He’d always thought of it as a parallel earth, another entire world one stepped into. Instead, Altus referred to the collective innumerous closed spaces created by Babel, each one surrounded by a thick mist that is impossible to traverse through. Each singular closed space was linked to others via Borders, just as Altus itself linked to the humans’ world through a Border. In Astolfo’s hands he held a notebook upon which he had sketched a diagram of Altus as he had been taught about it. Astolfo stared at this diagram of the world of Vampires in his hands. His eyes darkened.
Astolfo wondered. If they could erase those Borders, would it be possible to eradicate the Vampires?
Roland said he didn’t know. The Chasseurs were allowed to hunt Vampires who caused trouble in their world, Vampires whom the Church decided could be eliminated, but humans and Vampires lived under a truce. Astolfo angrily blamed that on Vampires having fled to Altus and getting out of humans’ reach. Roland stopped his pushups and prompted Astolfo to stand up from his back before wiping himself down with a towel. He continued that Astolfo’s cited reason was not the only one: the Astermite humans used, in particular the high-purity kind, was brought over from Altus. Vampires considered the blue glow emitted by the mineral to be bad luck, just as the light of the blue moon. And in exchange for getting rid of this Astermite for them, humans provided resources difficult to be found or brought into Altus. Astolfo was appalled by the idea of them giving “heretics” charity, to which Roland corrected the process to be simple trade, the specifics having been hashed out by the treaty.
Astolfo quietly said that wasn’t right. If humans needed Astermite, they could just take it. Just as Vampires took from him—them, Astolfo believed they should take everything from the Vampires as well. Roland listened quietly. He squeezed his rosary to his chest. Still, he couldn’t find any way to respond back.
Some time later. Astolfo while walking along carrying a bundle in his arms encountered a certain other Chasseur. Gano, who immediately opens by sardonically remarking on his attachment to Roland. Ogier next to him sighed and reprimanded Gano to not provoke the boy too much, but Gano just brushed him off. As Ogier was shooed off and thus Gano and Astolfo are left alone standing across from each other, the younger male takes a moment to recall what he knows of the man. Known as Gano of Bloodstone, a Paladin whose ranking was so celebrated he had been given the sacred stone that specifically held the meanings of “salvation” and “devotion.” But, looking at the smarmily smirking man in front of man, Astolfo could only deadpan at how awfully, almost comically villainous his face looked. Especially compared to the metaphorical ray of sunshine Roland whom he was usually around.
Astolfo sighed and asked the man for his business with him as he was in a hurry. Gano however already knew that Astolfo was on his way to train with Roland. With a widening grin, Gano insults even the commander’s decision to group the two of them together. Astolfo, a child raised in high society by a wealthy family, with Roland, whom Gano called “a tattered urchin who grew up in the slums.” He even remarked that Astolfo would learn nothing aside from vulgar language from the man. Astolfo bristled and snapped at Gano for his words, asking what he even had against Roland. Gano, looming ominously over the boy, answered with a long and drawn out “everything.” With disgust and contempt, Gano revealed to Astolfo the reason why Roland became a Chasseur. For the money. No matter how noble he spoke or acted, Roland’s faith was never truly within God. So obsessed with the ideal of salvation despite his own flimsy faith… Gano grit his teeth. It sickened him.
Astolfo took in these words quietly. Then, softly to himself, he muttered that he himself may not be much different. Gano was confused. Astolfo spoke up and told Gano to his face that his face scared him. He walked off, leaving Gano behind with a sharp command to leave him alone unless absolutely necessary. Gano was left behind annoyed.
Astolfo continued to walk forwards. But no matter how long he walked for, how much he faced forward, he always felt immediately behind him with every step that bloodstained scene of tragedy. He recalled even now that endless agony, within which no matter how much he prayed no one came to save him. The one who did, the sole reason he was still alive. The one who beheaded the Vampire who did this to him.
Astolfo reached his destination; there, Roland stood holding two training spears and greeted him with a bright smile. Astolfo smiled back just as warmly.
It was him. Roland Fortis.
Astolfo now dressed in a proper full Chasseur uniform ran up excitedly and happily to Roland and Olivier. Roland smiled fondly at the young boy.
Roland, Astolfo’s God.
Much time later. In the dead of night, hidden in the brush next to a run-down house. Astolfo wielding a spear kneeled on the ground and breathed slowly and carefully to keep himself calm and level. Around him his fellow Chasseurs milled about as they prepared for their mission, and Roland just behind Astolfo brightly told the boy to calm as he had been on many missions before. Astolfo still very much on edge retorted that Roland was not nervous enough. The mission they were sent on was to raid the hideout of a human trafficking ring which was being run by Vampires. Once everything had been properly prepared, the one to lead the mission, Olivier, gave a sharp order. Go.
The Chasseurs burst in through the door with violence. Roland with his forceful power lead the vanguard, single slashes of his sword slaughtering and dismembering and beheading the Vampires en masse while his comrades backed him up from behind with guns. As this fight went on, Astolfo led the second half of the Chasseurs, whose job was to find and protect the human children who had been kidnapped by the ring. Astolfo and his comrades ran through the halls and stairs of the hideout until eventually reaching a door that he quickly kicked down. The room was dark and covered in shadows that made things difficult to properly see, but there was still the clear silhouettes of several people huddled together in fear in the corner. Astolfo upon finding them sighed with relief. He reassured that they were here to save them—
“Brother.”
Astolfo stopped.
Behind him beyond the doorway he just kicked down. The body of a Vampire they had just cut down ruthlessly laid lifeless on the stairs, auburn hair stained with blood. Astolfo blinked. Now standing among the group of people they came to save was another boy with auburn hair just the same as the dead Vampire. He was crying. He screamed for his brother. The others in the group grabbed onto him tightly and desperately, pushing him back and urging him to hide. Astolfo spoke blankly: the boy had red eyes, he was a Vampire. They had to get away from him. A black-haired boy glared at Astolfo as he refused, for they knew the Chasseurs would kill him as well. The hideout, the house was stained with blood and covered in the bodies of the Vampires they murdered. In this attempt to save these victims, a sight like this could only be described as a slaughter.
All at once, the group of people they were ordered to save surged up in rebellion against the Chasseurs. The Vampires were not bad, they never did anything bad to any of them. One would have died at the hands of his father had they not intervened. Another was promised to be able to find work in their world. They were good people, they helped them, they saved them. Astolfo continued speaking slowly, stunted, words leaving his mouth as if on autopilot. The Vampires were lying, they intended to make slaves of them—the black-haired boy vehemently denied this. With tearful conviction in his eyes, with an adamant belief founded in their cross-racial bond.
With an innocence painfully identical to that which he had lost.
“We’re friends!!”
Astolfo stared.
He still remembered what it was like being friends with that Vampire. Sitting together in the sun under the shade of a tree, laughing and smiling together. His dear Vampire friend asking him to tell him more stories.
The group of victims began to shout vitriol and malice at the Chasseurs, cursing at them angrily and screaming at them to leave. Astolfo in his memories had asserted that good Vampires existed too, that there was no need to use swords or fight one another. If they attempted in earnest to understand one another, they could be friends. The black-haired boy picked up a rock and threw it, striking Astolfo right in the head. Astolfo’s past bright and innocent smile. Astolfo’s current bloodstained face.
“My family was killed by a Paladin.”
Those were the words that had been uttered to him by that Vampire friend as he laid bleeding on the floor of his home.
“How do you feel now?”
Roland entered the room. His eyes were wide in shock. The bright and giddy voice of the boy he had been mentoring greeted him as he appeared.
Endless bloodshed. Bodies piled on top of one another. The scene stained entirely red. A continuation of the slaughter happening outside the walls of that room—but instead of Vampires, with humans. And kneeling on top of the black-haired boy who had so adamantly defended his Vampire friend… On top of the boy’s brutally decapitated body, was a smiling Astolfo. He still had the head of his spear buried in the boy’s neck.
Astolfo rose to his feet as Roland took in the scene, the utter violence, the fellow Chasseur knocked out on the other wall. Meanwhile Astolfo brightly rambled about the victims he had killed being heretics who idolized Vampires, who even helped to collect human children. Roland raised his fist. Olivier ran into the room just as a loud thud resounded throughout.
Astolfo lay sprawled on the ground from Roland’s punch to his face. He cradled his cheek with confusion. Roland berated him for killing them—Astolfo knew he didn’t have to, that no matter what the Vampires did to them they could have been saved, have been forgiven. Astolfo looked up in shock and confusion. He stopped. Roland’s expression was angry and disappointed and pained. Astolfo began shaking. He asked what Roland was saying, why he was looking at Astolfo in such a way. The blood of the people he killed continued to pool at his feet. He refuses the idea of forgiveness, of even the thought of it, because…
“Forgiving these people… means forgiving myself!!”
Him reaching out a hand towards that Vampire.
Astolfo screams—something like that should never be forgiven. He won’t allow forgiveness for that. Roland’s eyes were wide. Olivier with growing alarm tried approaching the boy. Astolfo just shouted at him to shut up and violently slapped away his outstretched hand, before curling in on himself on the floor and screaming in absolute self-hating agony. Olivier was lost on what to do. Behind him, Roland totters on his feet and falls with his back against the wall. Olivier turns to Roland with alarm, before stopping with wide eyes.
Roland was crying. Tears of absolute despair, and guilt, and defeat slowly trailing down his cheeks. Roland slid down the wall until he too was collapsed on the ground, head in his hands as he finally came to realize.
It was too late. It was always too late. He could never do it. He cannot save Astolfo.
Some time later, Charles lay on his bed as beside him his Vice-Captain told him the latest news. The most pressing one: Roland had requested his resignation as Astolfo’s trainer. Charles absorbed this and responded with satisfaction, that Roland had raised Astolfo just as he had hoped. His Vice-Captain responded that Charles seemed to have foreseen all of this, even Astolfo’s current state of betrayal from feeling as though Roland abandoned him. Charles confirmed that he knew this would come to pass, that Astolfo’s adoration would twist into hatred. And not just that, Roland himself knew as well upon making that request. After all, if Roland couldn’t save him, the least he could do was turn himself into an object of hatred for the boy. To continue to be something to cling to. To survive for.
That is the kind of man Roland was.
Charles was asked for the next course of action, and so he ordered for that servant to be allowed to meet with the boy. To stabilize him for what came next. In Astolfo’s room, Marco stood, panting from having run all the way there. Astolfo sat on his bed shouted with distress at seeing his family’s former servant, alive when he had been told he was dead. Marco in distress explained that he had been forbidden from seeing Astolfo up until that point. Marco dropped the hat he had been holding and fell to his knees before Astolfo, grasping the boy’s hands in his own like they were precious. Marco promised to stay by his side always from then on. On the day it had happened, when their mansion had been attacked, Marco had escaped by himself and hid away, thus he was unable to protect his master, Astolfo’s father. Marco was crying tears of relief as he knelt before the sole survivor of the family he served and failed to save. He promised, he would not let Astolfo die.
Astolfo absorbed these words.
“I won’t let you die, Young Master!”
Astolfo grit his teeth. His eyes filled with tears.
The words of his Vampire friend resonated.
“My family was killed by a Paladin.”
Astolfo kicked at Marco, knocking him to the ground.
The words of Astolfo himself reverberated back, identical.
“My family was killed by Vampires.”
Astolfo beat down relentlessly on Marco, full of anger, full of grief, full of the desire to direct it all onto himself. Astolfo sobbed.
(Astolfo’s own body in place of his Vampire friend’s, beheaded and dead. Oh how he wished it could be.)
“Now, who do we kill next?”
Astolfo continues staring at his dagger. A voice behind beckons him, snapping him out of his memories. Charles has called to meet him, and Astolfo calls back with an affirmative. He pulls back on the rest of his Chasseur uniform and outdoors cloak. Marco just behind frets endlessly, asking if he’s sure he is alright now. Astolfo sarcastically replies with the numerous weeks it has been since the incident in Gévaudan. He is fine. Astolfo makes to enter the chapel to meet with Charles.
In the doorway, there is Roland.
Astolfo stares up at the man he once idolized. Roland quietly stares back.
The music continues. The girl as she listens to its endless repetition speaks: a fugue of hatred that has forgotten how to stop.
Astolfo storms past Roland angrily, refusing to look at man any further, as Roland himself forlornly watches the boy walk away.
She asks: who will be the next to play it?
Characters[]
- Unnamed Archiviste
- The Teacher
- Astolfo Granatum
- Ogier*
- Gano*
- Charles
- Roland Fortis
- Olivier*
- Olivier's Vice-Captain*
- Charles' Vice-Captain*
- Marco
(*) - Denotes that the character did not appear physically, but as a part of another character's memories.
Terms[]
- Altus
- Chasseurs
- The Catholic Church
- House of Granatum
- The War
- House of Obsidian
- Mark of Possession
- Vampires
- Babel Incident
- Astermite
- Gévaudan (Mentioned only)
Trivia[]
- Fuga is translated as "flight" or "escape" from Spanish, Portuguese, or Italian.
- In French this would be "fugue" which is also the name of a musical composition technique that involves introducing a musical theme and developing it through repetition throughout the piece[2]; within the contents of this chapter itself, "fugue" as a musical term is consistently used as a motif. In Japanese, "fugue" is pronounced as "フーガ" making it likely the rendering of the chapter title as "Fuga" be a mistake.
- The official English translation for the alternative title is incorrect. "オルガニート" (Oruganīto) should instead have been rendered as "organito" also known as the barrel organ,[3] a common French musical instrument.
- Though an organito or barrel organ is known to the French as a large instrument transported on a cart commonly found on street sides, in Japanese an organito refers to a small handheld music box which is able to play custom songs by reading punched out cards that contain the music. The latter kind of organito, despite not being known in France, is what the Unnamed Archiviste plays to bookend the chapter.
References[]
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| v - e - t | The Case Study of Vanitas Chapters |
|---|---|
| Parisian Excursion Arc | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 |
| Bal Masqué Arc | 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 |
| Hunters of the Dark Arc | 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 |
| The Beast of Gévaudan Arc | 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • 29 • 30 • 31 • 32 • 33 • 34 • 34.5 • 35 • 36 • 37 • 38 • 38.5 • 39 • 40 • 41 • 42 • 43 |
| Amusement Park Arc | 44 • 45 • 46 • 47 • 48 • 49 • 50 • 51 • 52 • 53 • 54 • 54.5 • 55 • 55.5 • 56 |
| Miel Incident Arc | 57 • 58 • 59 • 60 • 61 • 61.5 • 62 • 62.5 • 63 • 64 • 65 |
| Intermissions | 15.5 • 46.5 • 51.5 • 60.5 |
| Volumes | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 |
| Omake | Vanitashu no Karute • Romance is a✰LOVE MISSION • Confessional Counseling Office |
| Other | Author's Notes |