Book Girl and the Captive Fool (16 page)

It wasn’t only Kotobuki’s voice that was trembling. Her laced fingers, her lips, her eyelashes—all wavered faintly.

“I am yours, sir. I am yours.”

Kotobuki looked straight at me, her face rapt.

“My life, my honor, my happiness, my pride—all are yours, sir. All are yours.”

Her voice became more and more charged with emotion, tinged with excitement, and tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.

“By becoming yours, I will for the first time become myself.”

For some reason, at that moment, I recalled the day Kotobuki and I had talked alone at the hospital.

“You may not remember it, but I… in middle school, I…”

Had she looked like this then? Been this close to tears?

Suddenly, she hung her head and stopped reciting her lines.

I was just wondering what had happened when a clear bead slid down Kotobuki’s cheek.

Was—was she actually crying?!

“Wh-what’s wrong, Kotobuki?”

I hurried over to her.

“Did you just get too into the part? Or are you still worried about Akutagawa and—”

“No!” Kotobuki sobbed, shaking her head. “It’s not because I’m worried about Akutagawa. I’m an awful person. Akutagawa’s in pain, and everyone’s so worried about him, but… I’m so wrapped up in something else it’s driving me crazy.”

She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking.

I was at a loss. I didn’t know what to do.

“What’s bothering you so much?”

Kotobuki gave several childish sobs. Then, her hands still covering her face, she said in a feeble voice, “Y-you… You’re always late or leaving early or ducking out at lunch… or whispering with Tohko and Takeda… I, I figured it was… something about
Akutagawa, that you guys don’t want other people to know. I can tell that much at least. I… I’m not usually like this… I hate being so spineless, and usually I’m not. B-but… I think Takeda knows… But you hate me. You won’t be open with me.”

My heart clenched intensely.

She must have been upset because she felt like she was being left out. She may have put on a brave face, but inside she had been hurt.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see how you felt. But I don’t hate you, you know.”

“You… you jerk.” Kotobuki choked up tearfully, looking up again. “Jerk! You’re unbelievable! Just… you jerk…”

She railed at me, her face a total mess. I couldn’t tell if she was being aggressive or weak, if she was angry or crying.

“I’m not really sure why, but… I’m sorry.”

“If you don’t know why you’re apologizing, then don’t do it! I hate that about you. You’re nice to everyone and pleasant and polite, and it infuriates me… It makes me sad. In middle school, it was—you weren’t like that. You used to smile because you were actually happy.”

That surprised me.

“You knew me in middle school? You mentioned something about that in the hospital, too.”

Kotobuki looked at me, taken aback. Her expression was as unguarded as a child’s, and it worked its way into my heart and halted its beating.

The auditorium fell into utter silence.

“I—,” she began in a frail voice. Her cheeks were colored bright red. “I met you once in middle school.”

“I’m sorry, where was that?”

Kotobuki bit down on her lip a little and lowered her eyes.

“I’m sure you don’t remember. But it meant a lot to me. So I
went to see you again after that. Over and over, all through the winter. Every day.”

I couldn’t fathom it. Every single day? Where was she? Why didn’t I remember meeting her?

“You always looked like you were enjoying yourself back then. You were always happy and smiling. That girl was always at your side.”

I felt as if I’d suddenly been slashed across the face. Kotobuki lifted her gaze once again.

“You were always, always with that girl. She was the only thing you ever looked at, and you would laugh so happily. But when I met you in high school, you didn’t enjoy yourself at all, didn’t talk to anyone honestly. But you still had a bright smile on the outside and pretended to be having fun. I hated it… I mean, I finally got to meet you, but you weren’t the same person.”

Oh no—I was having trouble breathing.

Her words became frigid chains, coiling layer over layer around my throat. My pulse raced, and my fingertips started to get numb. My mind reeled.

It was happening again.

Oh no, oh no.

Kotobuki’s face crumpled, and she looked even closer to tears than before.

“When Igarashi got stabbed behind the school, and I heard Sarashina screaming ‘It’s that girl’s fault!’ it was like I was seeing myself, and I shuddered. In my heart, I felt like it was that girl’s fault that you’d changed, and I resented her. Like because of her—because of Miu Inoue, you stopped laughing! It’s true, isn’t it? That girl—
the girl who was always with you was the author Miu Inoue, wasn’t she!
”

The chains coiled around my neck tightened—
snap!
—against
my throat. I felt the pain of them biting into my skin as my mind went white, and all sound was sucked out of the world.

Why was she talking about Miu?!

Kotobuki finally seemed to notice the odd change occurring in my body.

“I-Inoue…?”

I had trouble breathing and could barely stand. My vision clouded over, and I fell to my knees on the stage. At that very moment—

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Hello Konoha, hello Nanase.”

Akutagawa came into the auditorium with Takeda close behind him.

“I ran into Akutagawa right outside so we came together. Heh-heh. Oh—Konoha, are you sweating? You look terrible.”

I pressed hard against my chest, took a deep breath, and answered, “… It was so hot in here. I’m fine now.”

The pulse I felt beneath the palm of my hand was still racing, but sound had come back to the world and somehow I managed to stand up. My brain ached as if I had been punched in the head, and if I wasn’t careful, I felt sure I would have another attack.

Kotobuki must have regretted unleashing her feelings on me, because she bit down on her lip and was trying not to look at me.

“Sorry everybody! The prep work for my class’s curry restaurant ran late.”

Tohko ran in, her long braids fluttering.

With everyone present, our final rehearsal began.

“What a lovely voice.”

“It’s her. I know it.”

“How fortunate for you if that’s true.”

Nojima and Omiya continued their dialogue.

I couldn’t get what Kotobuki had said to me out of my head.

“… I felt like it was that girl’s fault that you’d changed, and I resented her.

“… It’s true, isn’t it?
That girl—the girl who was always with you was the author Miu Inoue, wasn’t she!”

I didn’t know why Kotobuki had mistaken Miu for Miu Inoue. But she definitely knew about the two of us.

She knew about how I had been happy and enjoyed myself just having Miu around, how I had been idiotically cheerful, how I had always looked at Miu so affectionately.

If I revisited my memories of middle school, Miu was always there.

In the classroom in the morning, in the hall during breaks, on the road home in the sunset, at the convenience store we went to all the time on the way home, getting food from street vendors, at the park where falling ginkgo leaves filled the air, at the old library, at the pastry shop she forced me to go to with her—no matter the scene, Miu was there. Looking at me, her hair up in a ponytail, then smiling teasingly.

“You’re special to me, Konoha. So I’m going to tell you what my dream is.

“I’m gonna be a writer. Tons of people are going to read my books. It would be awesome if that made them happy.

“The book I’m writing now is almost done. You’re gonna be the first to read it.

“Hee-hee. You’re blushing, Konoha. What’s wrong? What are you thinking about? Fess up. I promise I won’t get mad. Okay? Tell me what you’re thinking. All of it. Tell me
every. last. thing.
about you, Konoha.”

But then one day, all of a sudden, Miu looked at me with daggers.

She ignored me and avoided me, and with a final smile, she said, “You wouldn’t understand,” then jumped off the roof right in front of me.

The smile Sarashina had given before she slashed her throat in the library mingled with how Miu had looked then, and it had swelled to fill my brain.

“You finally
… gave me your answer.”

Fresh blood seeping out of her.

Akutagawa gaping at her in shock.

“You should have… told me… sooner… I’m not that bright… I didn’t know…

“… I’m sorry.”

My chest constricted, and my throat burned.

I tried to make it go away, but the image wouldn’t fade. I saw Miu’s face, Sarashina’s face, Akutagawa’s face. They all looked sad and disappointed.

Where had we gone wrong?

Akutagawa hadn’t meant to hurt Sarashina; all he’d wanted was to make up for his past mistakes. And all Sarashina had done was care for Akutagawa that whole time.

So why had it gone wrong?

Had I also hurt Miu without realizing it? Had I made a mistake somehow, somewhere?

Was that why Miu started to hate me and why she’d jumped off the roof?

“When you asked me to come watch a match, I was so happy.

“… Whenever you invited me somewhere, I dressed up supernice and would go to the place we were supposed to meet ten minutes early, my heart pounding the whole time.”

Akutagawa had always believed that he needed to be smart, he needed to be honorable. He chose his actions torn between the upperclassman he respected and the girl he had wounded in the past.

When he realized that those actions had only invited more unhappiness, the pain and despair he felt had pierced my heart, as well.

Onstage, Akutagawa and Kotobuki were rehearsing the climactic correspondence scene between Omiya and Sugiko. I watched them from the wings, my heart wrenching.

“Please, Mister Omiya, I want you to see me as an independent human being, as a woman.”

“Please don’t batter my plea with the stones you call friendship.”

Akutagawa looked pained. His face twisted, and he gritted his teeth, sweat beading up on his forehead.

If he opened his mouth and accepted her, something would change fundamentally.

And there was no guarantee that his excruciating decision would be the right one.

“… It’s always like this! It’s always wrong! I swore I would never get it wrong again!…

“I was wrong again! It’s just like elementary school. I’m still a fool! Help her—help Sarashina.”

Akutagawa’s pain blended into Omiya’s conflict, and my own suffering blended into that.

Why did we hurt people?

Why did we break things?

“… Why did you say we should break up, Kazushi?”

“I don’t think you would ever understand, Konoha.”

“I tried my best. I always loved you, Kazushi.”

“I don’t think you would ever understand, Konoha.”

“I wondered whether to send this letter or if I had better not. I think it would be better not to. However—”

He stopped.

Sweat trickled down Akutagawa’s cheek. His dry lips merely trembled; no words emerged. He stood there, unable to move.

Why did he have to keep performing when it was so difficult for him?

Why did he have to make such a firm commitment when it sliced him apart?

What if his decision was the wrong one?

If he hurt someone again?

If something broke again?

My throat twinged shut, and I broke out in a cold sweat. I was helpless in the face of a pain that threatened to rip my body in two, and I balled my fists up and screamed, “Just stop already!
Haven’t you done enough? Why do you have to suffer like this?!”

Akutagawa and Kotobuki looked at me in surprise, as did Tohko and Takeda, who stood in the wings on the other side of the stage.

The auditorium fell quiet, and the air felt painfully tense. I trembled as I spoke.

“It’s just a culture fair. I was never into it in the first place. Just forget about it. I’m not going on tomorrow.”

I felt a searing pain in my head, and a hot lump rose in my throat. I got down from the stage, picked up my bag from the seat it was on, and walked toward the door.

“Konoha, what’s the matter? You’re
really
not going on tomorrow?”

Takeda ran up and pulled me back.

I gently shook her hand from my arm and said, my head still bowed, “I’m sorry.”

Then I left the auditorium like a fugitive.

I got home and crawled into bed, breathing shallowly through my twitching throat. My fingertips were numb, and I let out a rasping sound like a broken flute from the back of my throat. I felt a splitting pain in my head, as if it was being pressed on either side by iron walls.

Why was I so weak and pathetic and stupid?

Whenever anything happened, my body stopped working right, and I let loose these childish tantrums and then ran away.

What must they all think? Especially Tohko…

It hurt. I couldn’t breathe. It was awful. I was awful. An awful, world-class idiot.

How long would it take for me to be okay again? Would I be like this my whole life?

Miu!

Miu!

Miu!

Why can’t I ever forget about you?

Behind my tightly closed eyes, I pictured Nojima’s, Omiya’s, and Sugiko’s lines, one after another. Bloodred words cascaded down around me as I huddled in an endless expanse of darkness, bound by chains.

“They say those who have truly loved will never be brokenhearted.”

“That seems so sad, almost unbearably sad.”

“When I dream of that girl, I feel so desolate I hardly know what to do, and I think, I truly will never be brokenhearted.”

“I will refrain. I will do what I can. But please grant me one small thing.”

“I beg you. Let me have Sugiko. Don’t take her from me.”

“I pray for your happiness.”

“I can’t bear to be at Mister Nojima’s side more than an hour.”