by Yoru Sumino
The library was a wonderful place, with its quiet, its lovely smell, and the kind librarian. However, even here, there was one line that one must not cross: losing oneself too deeply in the world of books.
Until the librarian called out, I’d completely forgotten that I was still at school. Just before the morning bell rang, the librarian called my name and, after what seemed like ages, I returned to my own world. I borrowed the book, stuffed it into my bag, and bid farewell for now.
I passed through the hallways, noisier now than when I arrived, and climbed the stairs one by one to my third-floor classroom. Ignoring the boys who ran through the hallways, I stepped inside. No one seemed to take notice of me entering the room. As always, I marched straight to my seat in the very last row. I put down my backpack and sat down.
Kiriyuu-kun, who sat beside me, noticed me and hurriedly shut the notebook on his lap.
“Good morning, Kiriyuu-kun.”
“G-good-good morning, Koyanagi-san.”
He was talking quickly, the way he did when he was upset at being teased. He shoved the closed notebook into his desk.
“What were you drawing?”
“N-nothing!”
He was lying. I always knew when Kiriyuu-kun was lying. He had been drawing a picture. He was always doodling in his notebook. He perhaps thought that he was doing a good job of hiding it, but I was his neighbor—I saw everything.
He was really skilled at drawing, something that I thought he ought to be crowing about to the people around him, but he never did, and the idiot boys ridiculed him again and again for it.
“Kiriyuu-kun, life is like a cavity.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“If you don’t like it, you should hurry up and do something about it. If people are making fun of you for drawing, then you should just spit it back in their faces,” I said, putting my backpack onto the shelf behind me and taking my seat once more.
“I-I can’t do that,” Kiriyuu said quietly, not looking my way.
“Not with that weak attitude you can’t,” I said, just as the bell rang.
Hitomi-sensei entered the classroom. Everyone loved Hitomi-sensei—the only time the atmosphere seemed clear and bright was when she was there.
“Good morning!”
“Goood mooorniiing!”
At the direction of Ogiwara, the class representative, we began another boring day of school.
First period was math, second was social studies, and then in third period we had the lesson about happiness that Hitomi-sensei had mentioned to me. I wanted to proudly announce that I’d known about it since yesterday, but I had been sworn to secrecy. I mentioned neither the lesson nor the chocolate.
The fifty-minute class passed quickly, reading the story in our textbook and thinking about the main character’s feelings. There was no time to think about happiness. Then Hitomi-sensei announced that fourth period would be an extension of the third. I very much approved of this idea, and thought that fifty minutes was not nearly enough.
In fourth period, we had to come up with various notions of happiness. We were split into pairs, and had to exchange what we thought of as our own happiness.
I was paired with my neighbor, Kiriyuu-kun. Kiriyuu was rarely one to talk unprompted, so I had to lead the conversation.
“Yesterday, I was eating a cookie with ice cream on top. I felt happy then.”
“Huh.”
“Did you have anything like that?”
“Well, umm, the ohagi that my grandma made were really good.”
“Sweets that grandmas make are always super tasty!”
“Yeah. I like the ones my mom makes too, though. They’re different from Grandma’s.”
“Your mom makes sweets too? That’s nice. My mom doesn’t get home until nighttime.”
The two of us continued discussing like this, jotting things down in our notebooks. We were on task, and when Hitomi-sensei made the rounds to check in she gave us praise, but there was one thing that still bothered me. No matter how much we discussed the topic, even when I mentioned books, Kiriyuu-kun never said anything about drawing. I thought this was strange, so I asked.
“Aren’t you happy when you’re drawing?”
“Uh, m-maybe? I…do like it.”
“Then that’s one thing that makes you happy.”
“B-but whenever I d-draw…people make fun of me…”
“That doesn’t matter!”
My voice was louder than I intended. Kiriyuu-kun seemed shocked, but so did everyone else in the room. I was surprised at myself, too.
“Sorry, I just got excited!” I told Hitomi-sensei, who was looking my way.
“Try not to startle everyone,” she replied gently, and although everyone was muttering, calm returned.
I turned back to Kiriyuu. “Stuff like that doesn’t matter.”
I jotted down “drawing wonderful pictures” on my page. Kiriyuu-kun hung his head, silent.
As fourth period ended and lunch subsequently wrapped up, I spent the rest of my midday break in the library. It was noisier now than it was in the morning, but it was still quieter than the classroom, and I was able to bury myself in the adventures of Homeless Huck.
After break was clean-up time, so when the bell rang, I returned to the classroom and grabbed a broom. Kiriyuu-kun, being in the same group, had also returned ahead of time to start cleaning.
As we diligently cleaned the room, that idiot boy from before returned from the gymnasium, spouting some stupid nonsense.
“You two are super creepy, always drawin’ your pictures and readin’ all those books.”
“The only creepy thing here is your face,” I replied dutifully. “Did you know that?”
I flashed a look at Kiriyuu to see if he would reply as well, but naturally he did not.
Fifth and sixth period ended. As it came time for afternoon announcements, I let out a sigh of relief, releasing all the anticipation I had been holding in. We gave our farewells to Hitomi-sensei, and then it was over…or so I thought. But there was still one important announcement for us.
“The week after next we’ll be having a class visit. All of your mothers and fathers have already been informed about this, but this will be an important chance for them to see what you’re normally like at school, so make sure you give them handout I’m passing around, okay? Please promise me that, everyone.”
“Yes, ma’am,” we chorused, passing the handouts back from the front row.
I read the contents of the sheet, then happily slipped it into my bag. I loved these observation days. It was a chance for my mother and father to see just how clever I was.
Without being called to stay behind today, I went home alone as I usually did. I put my backpack in my room as always, and started to head back out when I remembered something important. I returned to my room and pulled out the handout, placing it on the living room table before I set out again.
Outside the building, as always, my bob-tailed friend was waiting for me.
“Meow!” she cried in greeting.
We both set out towards the great rolling river. As we climbed the bank, a breeze blew pleasantly through my hair and rippled across her short tail. Feeling wonderful, we both began to sing. Before long, our voices still ringing, we arrived at the cream-colored apartment building, where we stood at the usual door and rang the bell. The first time, we heard nothing. The door did not open the second time, either. Miss Bobtail mewled at my feet as I rang a third time, but no reply came.
“I guess she must be out today.”
“Meow.”
Skank-san was a busy woman, so she was frequently out of the house. Letting the wind wash away our disappointment, we gave up and decided to return by a different path. Obviously, we weren’t going home yet. We had a usual appointment after Skank-san’s place.
We walked along while singing, passing between houses both big and small. Soon we passed by the building where I lived, before heading along the usua
l path to the hills that rose behind it. I greeted the locals we passed along the way, but my standoffish friend merely waved her tail back and forth, coolly averting her gaze.
“Never mind just humans,” I said. “You’re going to end up despised in the world of cats that way.”
She continued to walk ahead of me, as though she had not heard me, arriving at the foot of the hill and steadily beginning the climb through the trees. Finally we reached the usual clearing, with its house made of wood, and rushed to knock on the door.
The first time we knocked, there was no response.
We knocked several more times, tried the knob, and circled the house’s perimeter, but it seemed that Granny was not home. I sat down in the greenery of that empty space and crossed my short arms.
“It’s weird for both Skank-san and Granny to be out.”
“Meow meow,” Miss Bobtail replied, forlorn that she had yet to receive a meal.
“Now you can’t just sulk about it. Life is like a school lunch.”
“Meow.”
“You’ve still got to enjoy it as much as you can, even when they don’t have the things you like. You get it?”
She did not appear to get it, but we descended the hill together anyway. Maybe we will run into Granny on her return, I thought, but we arrived at the park at the bottom of the hill without any such luck. In the park, children younger than me were running around, their mothers watching over them.
Now then, what could be going on? I wondered. Miss Bobtail rolled around at my feet, perhaps distraught that all her hopes had been betrayed.
I set the gears of my sharp mind turning. Then I remembered something.
“There’s a fork in the road on the way to Granny’s house.”
“Meow.”
“Now that I think about it, there’s still a way we haven’t gone. Let’s try going that way.”
Miss Bobtail was still flopped on her side on the ground. I nudged her with my toe. She stood somewhat reluctantly, let out a big yawn, and we began climbing the hill again.
I followed behind her, sweat dotting my forehead. Finally, we arrived at the fork. We always went right from here but today, for the first time, I decided to try left. This path sprawled to a gentle rise. Perhaps pepped up by the chance for some exercise, Miss Bobtail sprang along ahead of me. Cats are such easygoing creatures.
Five minutes later, with the smell of the trees growing stronger bit by bit, the broken iron gate appeared. The gate, which appeared as if by magic, was open just a few centimeters.
As I reached out to touch it, the gate swung slowly open, crying out in a hoarse voice. I hesitated for just a moment, but I looked Miss Bobtail in the eye, thinking how far we had already come, and decided to proceed. I already had plenty of practice looking up and sticking out my tongue for forgiveness, just in case anyone got mad at us.
Beyond the gate were clean-cut stone steps, unlike the rough path we had climbed. We went up carefully, but eventually the stairs ran out and opened up into something like a clearing, strewn with gravel.
I was surprised to see it, and drank in a breath of this new air. I have no idea whether the little one at my feet was surprised as well.
“Meow,” she said, as she always did.
“I had no idea there was something like this up here.”
At the end of the path opposite from Granny’s house was something that was the complete opposite: a building that looked like a square stone box. Looking at the window-like holes along the walls, I thought the building had two stories, but I didn’t have the slightest clue what it was. There were no patterns or lettering anywhere. It looked very much just like a plain stone box. It had none of the warmth of Granny’s big wooden house.
As I drew closer, I found there wasn’t even a door in the place where the entrance should have been. Puzzling over this for a moment, I slipped timidly in through one of the gaping holes. Miss Bobtail swallowed her nerves and casually entered the building. I entered behind her. Don’t tell anyone, but I was actually a bit afraid.
First we looked around the ground level, but there were nothing resembling rooms. The floor was a solid plane, utterly empty. There was not the slightest hint that anyone might be there. The only thing even marking this box as a building was the staircase that sat smack in the middle. With nowhere else to go, we mustered our courage and slowly climbed the stairs.
The second floor was empty as well. It appeared as though the square holes really had been windows once, as there were shards of glass still hanging from them here and there. Obviously, I did not touch them—that would be dangerous.
Ah, nothing left in this building, I thought, looking around the second floor.
Don’t tell anyone, but it really was frightening. I wanted nothing more than to hurry back outside. But then we discovered another set of stairs, leading up. Looking up, I could tell it led to the roof, seeing the open sky above. I locked eyes with the little one at my feet and we decided to climb.
Step by step we climbed the stairs, leaving footprints behind in the dust. When we poked our heads out onto the rooftop, I was greeted first by rays of sun, and the wind brushing my face. And then I locked eyes with a young woman sitting huddled on the ground with a box cutter pressed to her wrist.
That day, shocked to my core, I understood for the first time what people meant when they say that time stopped. And then, an instant later, time was racing.
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!”
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!!!”
“Meow!”
And that was how I met Minami-san.
Chapter 3
MINAMI-SAN SCREAMED at the same time I did, while Miss Bobtail bounded happily onto the roof.
Minami-san dropped the blade onto the stone floor. After getting over my shock, I looked between Minami-san, the blade, and Minami-san’s wrist, and was shocked again. Red blood dripped from her hand.
“What’re you doing?! We need to fix that!”
“Wh-who are you?”
“I’ve got a band-aid—here, put this on and let’s get you to the hospital!”
“Wait, um…I’m fine. Stop fussing, would you?”
I was panicking, but Minami-san had already calmed down. I only learned her age later, but she was very much a mature high school student.
Hearing her request, I thought of how Hitomi-sensei had taught me to calm myself down and started breathing deeply. Breathing like this opened a gap in the tension in my heart and my nerves relaxed, as they had that time I found myself wrapped in slightly-too-large pajamas.
Deep breath in…and out.
I repeated this breathing many times finally and began to relax. I handed Minami-san a handkerchief and band-aid.
“I’ve got one,” Minami said reluctantly, pressing her own handkerchief to her wrist. My band-aid was set down on the rooftop, unused.
I looked at Minami-san’s wrist and the downturned corners of her mouth. “Is something wrong with your head?” I asked.
“Probably,” she said dully through those twisted lips.
“I see… So when you are weird in the head, you start cutting up your own arm. That could never happen to me, then. I hate pain.”
“So do I.”
“But you’re still cutting your arm. You really are weird.”
“Shut up. Go away.”
Not listening, I climbed up onto the roof. I sat down beside Minami-san and Miss Bobtail, quietly observing her wrist. I could sense Minami-san making a sour face, but I just couldn’t leave an injured person alone. But looking at the painful cut, I grew frightened imagining it on myself, and turned to look at her face instead.
“What’re you looking at?” she asked.
“Your arm. It looks really painful.”
“You’re a child. Go home already.”
“What are you doing up here, Minami-san?”
“It’s none of your business. And where did you get ‘Minami’ from?”
“Well you
r name’s written right there, isn’t it? Even an elementary schooler can read that.”
I pointed to the letters embroidered on her navy blue skirt. I could only dream of wearing something so sharp and rigorous. However, Minami-san only looked at her skirt and let out a sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Are you alone?”
“It’s…nice to be alone, isn’t it? Nothing says you have to be with someone.”
“That’s true. I’ve had the same thought.”
“You sound pretty conceited for a child.”
“I’m not conceited. Well, maybe a little more than the other kids. I know how wonderful books can be.”
“People hate you, don’t they?”
“Probably,” I said, mimicking her.
She scowled and turned to look at Miss Bobtail, who was looking back, her head tilted. She surely thought this whole thing was as strange as I did. As she could not speak, I had to be her representative.
“So, Minami-san.”
“Yeah?”
“Why were you cutting your arm?”
“Why do I have to explain something like that to you when I’ve only just met you?”
“I don’t see why not. I’m not going to spread rumors about you.”
She turned her face away, still scowling, and I just assumed that I would not be getting an answer. However, at length, she finally replied.
“No reason. Helps me calm down.”
“If you need to calm down, you should breathe in, open your heart, and take in the smell of the sun in an old wooden house.”
“This calms me down in the same way.”
“Well that sounds weird.”
“You…wanna try it?”
She clicked open the box cutter, covered in dried blood, and held it out to me. I quickly shook my head. As she closed the blade, she looked like she might have been smiling, just a little. It was impossible to tell, with her eyes almost fully covered by her hair.
“What would you do if I was some kind of bad guy? It’d be easy to cut a kid like you.”
“It’s fine. I haven’t gotten any bad smells from you.”
“How’s that fine?”
