Book Girl and the Captive Fool (7 page)

When I ask myself if I would ever hurt someone just because I felt like it, my vision clouds over and I break into a cold sweat.

How can I quiet this infernal impulse?

Don’t come after me. I have no idea what I might do.

The sensation I felt when I cut up the library books comes again and again to my mind.

The desk so far off, no one speaking, hearing only the sound of my own breathing and the pages turning in the tense silence. The loneliness and the terror that maybe I was the only person alive in this corner of the world. The self-loathing I felt about what I was planning to do.

In the midst of all that, I took the box cutter out of my bag, pressed it down on the center fold of the page, and drew it smoothly down. When it was completely free of the book, my spirit felt strangely liberated and unburdened.

My head aches, and I yearn for that feeling of floating in the air.

I want to cut something up.

A book—no, something softer, warmer, purer…

Maybe then I’ll be free of this suffering that seems to burn my heart.

Maybe then I wouldn’t hear that voice blaming me every night.

I can’t go see you like this. Please understand. I’m standing on the very precipice.

Before sixth period started, I went back to my class. I offered my concerned classmates noncommittal answers and sat down.

Akutagawa flipped through a notebook at his own desk. I looked over at him, jumped, then hurriedly looked away and began arranging my books on my desk. It was stifling even to be in the same room with him.

While I was mopping the floor in the hallway during cleanup, Kotobuki came over and reached out her hand at me with a frown. “Let me have that.”

“Wha—?”

“You’re barely pushing at all. What’s the point?”

She grabbed the mop from me while I stood still, perplexed, and she began efficiently scrubbing the floor.

“You must really be stupid to cut your hand with a box cutter. What an idiot.”

“Uh… well, thanks.”

“I just want to be done with cleanup.”

Kotobuki pursed her lips as she spoke, then turned her back on me.

“Inoue, did you have a fight with Akutagawa?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Akutagawa came back alone, and I don’t think you guys talked at all afterward.”

“… You’re just imagining things,” I murmured feebly, which made Kotobuki turn back around and glare at me angrily.

“Well, it’s none of my business.”

Now that she mentioned it, Akutagawa didn’t seem to be in the classroom. Had he gone somewhere? No—better not to inquire. I couldn’t get involved with Akutagawa anymore.

“You’re gonna make it to rehearsals today, right?”

“S-sure,” I answered, stumbling over my words. In the nurse’s office, Akutagawa had asked me to forget about what I’d seen, but would I be able to act like everything was normal? I was so terrified of facing him that I trembled.

I went back into the classroom with Kotobuki once she finished mopping.

Kotobuki glanced at the bag hanging on the side of her desk, and her eyes widened.

“That’s weird.”

She was scrutinizing a string looped on her bag.

“What’s wrong?”

“My rabbit is missing.”

“What?”

“The one I bought when we all went to that store with Tohko. Oh no. Did I lose it somewhere?”

Her gaze fell to the floor; shock and tears were in her eyes.

“Want me to help you look for it?”

“That’s okay. You go on ahead.”

“But—”

“It’s fine.”

She said it so forcefully that all I could do was leave the room without her.

Feeling as if I was hugging a heavy rock to my chest, I started walking toward the music hall. My eyes turned toward the back of the school building, as if drawn there, and there I saw Akutagawa, his back turned. I felt like I’d been hit by lightning.

Standing straight and tall, Akutagawa turned to face me.

He held something fluffy and white in his right hand.

It was a rabbit.

Not a doll but what looked like the real thing.

Red blood dripped from the soft white fur that covered its throat. Akutagawa’s hand was also stained red where he held the rabbit by its ears.

Overcome by a violent nausea, I bolted.

Why did he have that rabbit? What had he done?
These questions tumbled through my mind, and at the same time a terror chilled my entire body and crept into my heart. All I could think was that I had to get away from him immediately.

Akutagawa was terrifying.

Terrifying!

I didn’t go to the music hall. I ran through the school gates and went straight home.

I went into my room and closed the door, sat down, and rested my elbows on my desk; then cradled my head.

The throbbing of my heart was out of control. The steely glare Akutagawa had given me in the nurse’s office alternated with the gaze hardened by loathing that Miu had once turned on me, and I screamed out, “Stop!”

Why?! We had had a comfortable relationship where all we did was talk pleasantly and compare our answers to homework.

Why did you show me the violence of your emotions? Why did you turn your hatred on me?

Miu—Miu had done the same.

Like Nojima who was so in love with Sugiko, I had been smitten with Miu. I’d believed that Miu liked me, too. We were the best of friends and passed our every day in laughter. But then that day in our third year of middle school, Miu had fallen off the roof of the school right in front of me.

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

Leaving behind those mysterious words.

That summer, my world was destroyed.

Even now, I didn’t understand why Miu did it. Was it my fault she jumped? Had I done something to her?

I felt like delicate white fingers were crushing my heart, and I clenched the front of my shirt in my fist. My throat was dry, my vision wavered like a mirage, and my breathing grew erratic. I staggered and collapsed into bed, taking short, panting breaths, and desperately tried to calm my body as it offered up a scream.

When I came to my senses, I closed my eyes. My shoulders heaved with my breathing. The sweat pouring from me soaked my shirt and hair uncomfortably.

I still hadn’t forgotten about Miu.

I was sick of this. It was unbearable to have intertwined your heart so deeply with another, to believe in your future, and then to suddenly be denied it.

My time with Miu would have been plentiful.

In the corner of one half-opened eye, I spotted my copy of
Friendship,
which had been tossed on the floor. I must have knocked it to the floor when I’d gotten up from my desk before.

Sweat dripped into my eyes as I gazed bitterly at the blurry book, thinking.

Akutagawa had attacked me, his gaze clouded and filled with dark despair. He must be holding a secret he couldn’t tell anyone and be suffering just like Omiya.

But it was best that I didn’t find out what that was. We weren’t even friends. I couldn’t worry about why Akutagawa had been so enraged by what I’d said in the nurse’s office or what was up with that rabbit or any of it!

Tonight’s dinner seemed to lodge behind my ribs, and I wound up leaving half of it.

“I guess… I’m not feeling so good. It’s fine. I’m sure it’ll be better tomorrow,” I said, making up an excuse for my concerned mother.

When my tiny sister begged to play a game, I apologized and said, “Sorry, Maika. Not today. I’ll play with you tomorrow.” I patted her on the head and retreated to my room.

I turned off the lights and lay in my bed, staring into the dark, listening to a soothing ballad on my headphones when my door opened and my mother came in.

“Konoha, are you asleep? You have a phone call from Amano.”

I took off my headphones and got up.

“Thanks. I’ll take it.”

Once my mother had disappeared behind the door, I picked up the phone.

“Hello…”

A voice so feeble it made even me sad slipped past my lips.

Tohko had probably called because I skipped out on rehearsal and went straight home.

Just as I’d expected, I heard her bright voice on the other end.

“Konoha!! You can’t skip club activities without so much as telling your president. Nanase was worried.”

“Sorry. After I left class, I suddenly started feeling awful.”

“Really?” she inquired serenely. There was a soft, kind aspect to her voice, much like the music I’d been listening to. “A president can tell when you’re lying. I bet you didn’t want to run into Akutagawa, did you?”

Surprised, I asked, “Did he talk to you?”

Tohko chortled.

“So that
is
it. Akutagawa was late to rehearsals today, too. When he heard you weren’t there yet, he looked pained and only said, ‘Oh, I see.’ He seemed to know why you wouldn’t come. So I imagined that something might have happened between you two.”

“You’re awful. You tricked me.”

“Never underestimate a book girl,” she said pompously, robbing me of all my energy.

Geez, why did she always get the better of me? It sucked. It made no sense.

“Heh-heh. Now grit your teeth, and tell your president
everything.
”

Urged on by her musical voice, I started telling her in a whisper about what was going on with Akutagawa.

Tohko heard me out, occasionally encouraging me to continue in gentle, breathy tones. Once I’d finished my tale, she meekly said, “You know, I heard at the library that some books were cut up again. A Jane Yolen collection, a Hakushū Kitahara collection of poetry, plus a collection of children’s stories by Ju Mukuhato and short stories by Sakyo Komatsu… And this happened a little while ago, but one of the kids in the biology club told me that one of the rabbits they were taking care of disappeared and they’ve been looking for it.”

A chill went through my hand as I held the phone.

Library books were being cut up again? And then a rabbit disappeared?

“But I don’t think Akutagawa is the one who cut up the books. This time or the time before,” Tohko said suddenly in an excited voice, leaving me agape. “Hey, do you want to help me find out
the truth,
Konoha?”

What foolish things I continue to do, Mother.

I can’t pretend that my recent letter to you was rational. But if I stop writing letters, I doubt I’ll be able to contain the crazed impulses inside me.

I yelled at Inoue today. I know that he doesn’t mean any harm and that he’s worried about me. But his fragility and sensitivity incensed me, and all of a sudden I wanted to hurt him.

Inoue didn’t come to rehearsal after school. I had no idea how I was going to face him, so honestly I was relieved.

On the other hand, her psychological state has grown much more precarious, and I have no way of controlling her any longer. I buried the dead rabbit, whose throat had been slit, under a cherry tree at the back of the school yard. No matter how much I washed, the blood marks wouldn’t go away. It made me sick.

You must be worried about me after my recent letters, Mother. I’m sure they don’t make any sense to you. But I can’t reveal this to anyone but you.

When you gave birth to me, you pushed yourself too hard and your health deteriorated.

So I’ve tried my best to be an upstanding person and not be a burden on you. To not make you worry, to not make our relatives pity you for having me, to never make you feel sad.

But that day six years ago, I destroyed others’ lives through my dishonorable actions, and as punishment, I lost you.

And despite that, I’ve done another dishonorable thing.

Oh Mother, Mother, how foolish will your son become?