When she’d said “model,” she had meant Omi!
“It’s pretty good, right? Maybe I’ll call it Angel.”
The picture of the angel turning his cold gaze on the viewer felt totally transparent and solitary.
My heart ripped apart thinking about Omi, who’d lived such a long time alone, as I gazed at the painting with Tohko.
Perhaps because the Himekura family applied pressure, the fact that Mr. Mariya had committed murder didn’t become a big story in the news. Sugino, who’d loved Mr. Mariya without any return in her feelings, fervently told me, her eyes bright red, as she was racked by sobs again and again, “When I was depressed because my friends were ignoring me, Marmar made me chai and comforted me. He was a good person really!”
“You’re right, Mr. Mariya was a good person,” I responded, recalling the sweet smell of chai, the gentle steam, the face of the man smiling through it, and my chest squeezed tight.
“What do you know?” he’d said.
That he’d never wanted an average, peaceful life.
But the time I’d spent with Mr. Mariya and Kotobuki, when I thought back on it, was something sweetly sad and warm after all. Mr. Mariya and Shoko had simply lost their way at some point. They weren’t bad people—even if Mr. Mariya denied it, I wanted to believe that.
The financial company who’d been conducting unprincipled collections was under a major investigation, too, and it was almost a certainty that the upper levels would be arrested, and their business would be suspended.
The incidents involving the “angel” had ended.
After a round of teasing Tohko, Maki came over to Ryuto.
“Oh, you’re still alive? I thought a girl might have cracked your skull open and stuffed you like a dead animal,” she said sarcastically, smiling.
Ryuto smiled back at her, aggressively abrasive. “Well, I am a masochist. My only desire is for someone to love me that much.”
Maki suddenly pulled Ryuto’s face closer with both hands.
In fact, she stopped right next to Ryuto’s lips, but to everyone else it had probably looked like she had kissed him. Screams went up all over, and the restaurant grew rowdy. Watching from one side, Takeda and I both widened our eyes, as well.
Ryuto gaped as Maki told him alluringly, “Then get killed a hundred times over.”
She continued. “Grandpa and the rest of them are going to start complaining, so I’m going back to the estate. I’ll see you.”
Then she went away, wearing an invigorated expression.
“Hey now!” Ryuto wailed as all the girls surrounded him, looking murderous, and things started to get out of control. “Who was that?!” “Exactly how many girls are you gonna cheat on me with?” “You need to clear things up today! Who are you going home with later?!”
We quickly withdrew.
“It looks like Tohko’s little brother really is going to get his head split open!”
“Takeda, it scares me when you say stuff like that with a smile on your face. Please don’t do that.”
“Heh-heh. I think it’d be scarier if I said it with a straight face, though.”
As we were talking in this way, I spotted Kotobuki at the entrance.
She was wearing a billowing skirt and was glancing around nervously.
“Oh, I suddenly need to go to the bathroom. Why don’t you go over to Nanase, Konoha?”
“Wha—? But, Takeda—”
“Don’t you worry about me. I can get along with anyone, y’know.”
After giving me a smile, her eyes grew suddenly knowing; then Takeda grinned guilelessly again and she left me.
Was this going to be all right?
When I went over to Kotobuki and called out to her, there was tension in my voice, but her face cleared in apparent relief.
“Inoue…”
“Hello. Did you see Tohko yet?”
“No, not yet. I’m a little late…I just got here.”
“Okay. She’s gonna be surprised. Takeda’s here, too.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“Do you want something to drink?”
“An orange juice, thanks…”
Kotobuki was still a little down. But she was trying hard to act cheerful. It was stilted, but she was smiling.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
The two of us stood by the wall and talked.
Kotobuki and I were both being considerate…which made me recall that even when everything was over, the pain and sadness we’d felt that day hadn’t disappeared from inside our hearts. Mito would never again come back to Kotobuki. Would Kotobuki spend Christmas alone…?
“Kotobuki—if you want, we could go somewhere together tomorrow. It’s gonna be Christmas, though, so everywhere’s probably going to be crowded.”
Kotobuki shook her head.
“Thanks. But I promised Yuka I would keep the day open for her. I’m going to spend it reading a book she liked and eating cake.”
A smile appeared on her lips, and she said quietly, “And…I’m thinking of trying out Miu Inoue.”
The unflinching gaze she turned on me struck me as something extremely beautiful—and at the same time, I was made aware of my own weakness and grew embarrassed.
To hide these feelings, I smiled, too.
“Oh yeah? Then I’ll just have a slow day at home, too.”
“Oh, b-but—I’ll send you a Christmas text. I…I’d like it if you sent me one back…okay?”
“Sure thing.”
“Also…” Kotobuki was getting redder and redder, and she hung her head. “I can’t do Christmas, but I’m free another day. So, um…if you invited me again, I…would really like that.”
“Let’s go somewhere during winter break, then.”
When I said that, she raised her face, and her cheeks still flushed bright red, she smiled as openly as a child.
“Okay!”
“Take care of Nanase.”
I felt as if I could hear his voice in my ears…
Maybe Omi really had wanted to be with Kotobuki and encourage her more than anything…When that thought occurred to me, my heart grew melancholy again.
I didn’t know how much I was capable of doing, but I hoped I could be some help in cheering Kotobuki back up.
Kotobuki’s curfew was ten o’clock, so after I took her home, I went to visit the factory where we’d parted ways with Omi.
Mito’s body had been dug up, and she was resting in a grave with her family now. The Christmas tree was still there, and when I turned the switch on, the lights glittered brightly.
The snowflakes that shone with a pale light, the twinkling red and gold stars, the dolls that looked like they’d been made with cookie cutters, the house with a chimney, Santa Claus, the faceless angel—
The glass angel had two wings fixed to its triangular body, and there was nothing above its shoulders.
As I looked at it, I thought about a lot of things.
About Mr. Mariya who’d wanted to become the Phantom.
About Omi, who’d had no choice but to live as the Phantom.
And about Miu.
“Y’know, Konoha, if you wish for something on Christmas Eve, it’ll come true. What do you want?”
“…Then promise when you become a writer, you’ll give your first autograph to me.”
“Geez, that again? I told you, it’s way too soon for that.”
Miu giggling and planting a lightning-quick kiss on my cheek. She’d caught me off guard, and my face was bright red as she bent slightly at the waist and then spoke with a teasing look.
“That…was a promise.”
When I touched the angel’s wings, my fingertips twitched at the chill.
As I remembered that long ago Christmas with melancholy emotions that seemed to rankle deep in my heart, I whispered, “Miu…you know I’ve hated Miu Inoue this whole time. I thought her whole book was a bunch of lies and the stupid scribblings of a child.
“I hated Miu Inoue…more than anyone in the whole world.
“But…Mito said she liked Miu Inoue…
“That she thought back on Miu’s book all the time, like it was a memory…That she loved both Itsuki and Hatori…that when she was reading Miu’s book, she could forget all the painful things in her life…She talked to Omi about that…”
In the freezing cold, my throat drew tight and tears welled up in my eyes.
“I wonder where you are now, Miu. I wonder what you’re feeling. I wonder if…you can forgive me for not rejecting Miu Inoue anymore…”
Miu Inoue’s book was the story of the trivial days that Miu and I spent together.
Kotobuki had said that she’d been watching us the whole time. That when I was with Miu, I laughed happily.
“Back then, I was in love with you…and I was happy and content and I couldn’t help it.”
So Miu’s story wasn’t a lie.
And that transparent world filled with kindness, those gentle feelings, the exuberant light—everything written in that book was the truth for me back then.
“Miu…would you…see me now? I wonder if we could ever see each other again…”
Ever since the accident, I’d wanted to see Miu with all my heart.
The terrestrial stars scattered on the tree glittered quietly.
My heart swelled, my throat prickled, I grew desolate and morose, I felt totally alone, and I crouched down on the grass and was on the verge of tears when a gentle voice called my name.
“Konoha.”
When I turned around, Tohko was standing there with a placid smile on her face, wearing a long coat.
I frantically rubbed at my eyes with the back of my hand.
“Where did you come from all of a sudden?”
“Somehow, I thought you might come here…Here’s your present.”
She gently deposited one of the ribboned bags that she had been handing out at the party into my hand.
Inside were some star-shaped candy and a stuffed bear wearing a Santa suit.
“Did you come here just to give me this? To this abandoned place? It’s dangerous for a girl by herself.”
“It’s fine. You’ll be with me when I go back, after all,” she evaded flippantly, not listening to a word of my scolding. Then Tohko tilted her head and peeked up into my face. “So where’s my present?”
“There isn’t one.”
I hurriedly turned my face away, thinking she’d caught me looking teary.
“Geez.”
She pouted for a moment, then chuckled maturely.
“Don’t be like that. Gimme something. It doesn’t have to be something big.”
At those words I recalled the bookmark that I’d stuck in my student planner. When I pulled it out of the planner and held it out to her, Tohko put out both hands to accept it.
When she saw my cell phone number and my e-mail address written on it, her eyes crinkled.
“Sincerely—it’s like a letter. Or like…from the heart or genuinely or truly…like that…”
The words of my e-mail address were borrowed from a song that I liked.
Tohko softly pressed the bookmark to her lips.
In the light of the moon and the glittering of the Christmas tree, my heart skipped a beat at that gesture, which seemed so like a ritual.
“It’s so sweet…like candied violets.”
Her petal-like lips beamed delicately.
Then she popped the bookmark into her mouth and began making quiet crunching noises as she chewed.
She swallowed the very last scrap and—
With a smile, she said, “Ahhh, that was delicious. Thank you.”
I stared at her blankly.
“Oh—what’s wrong? Konoha?”
“You ate it.”
“Huh?”
“You ate my cell phone number and e-mail address.”
“Whaaaat? I wasn’t supposed to eat it?”
“An e-mail address isn’t a meal or even a snack!”
“What? What? What’s an e-mail address?”
Apparently Tohko the Luddite had never realized what it was.
“Forget it.”
I spun around to turn my back on her, crouched down on the grass, and hugged my knees.
Uh-oh. When I let my guard down, the tears came welling back up.
“…Um…er, can I…sit next to you?”
“You can, but don’t look at me.”
My vision was growing slowly indistinct, and a hot lump rose in my throat.
Tohko sat down on the grass with her back against mine. Below her coat she was still evidently wearing her Santa costume, and she pulled the hem down against a chill and hugged her knees.
As soon as my concern about her seeing my tears went away, the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes dropped down my cheeks. I wondered why I got so teary whenever Tohko was with me.
“Were you thinking about Omi?”
“About lots of stuff.”
“The party was fun, wasn’t it? It was a nice break.”
“You take too many breaks, Tohko.”
“It’s fine. I’m gonna knock out a whole math workbook when I get home.”
“It’s not a first-year workbook, is it?”
“How rude. It’s a second-year book.”
“You don’t think this is totally hopeless?”
“I’m planning to get to the third-year problems before the test!”
As my voice hitched and I bit back sobs, Tohko went on with her ordinary conversation.
I was pretty sure she had already discovered I’d been crying, but…
While she gazed up at the sky, Tohko had taken hold of my right hand without my noticing.
Her warm, gentle grip—
“No snow fell, but look how pretty the moon is, Konoha. There’s a sentence about this in Chekhov’s ‘In the Ravine.’”
In the pale moonlight, her clear voice flowed like a hymn that purified the soul.
“‘However great the evil, still the night is calm and beautiful and, still there is and will be in this world a truth as calm and beautiful. And everything on earth is eagerly awaiting its union with that truth, as the moonlight unites with the night’…Ahhh, now I want to eat some Chekhov,” Tohko said rapturously.
The truth wasn’t necessarily totally beautiful.
There existed ugly and painful truths that made you want to look away from them.
But the night enveloped everything, and the moon shone down on us unchanging.
There were things that didn’t change and beautiful things.
The gentleness, the warmth of Tohko’s hand had taught me that.
I knew the reason I didn’t become a Phantom is because I met Tohko.
Because she held my hand like this.
Because she said important things to me.
I hoped that somewhere on his long journey, the other version of me who had decided to never sing again and had gone away would meet a person with a kind touch.
Please, please, God.
As I prayed, Tohko murmured kindly to me, “Konoha…even if I’m not around anymore, don’t stop writing okay?”
And without understanding why Tohko would say something like that right now, my heart squeezed tighter than I could stand at the sadness and intensity in her voice.
Are you saying I have to send you snacks even after you graduate? I wanted to snipe back, but the words stuck in my throat.
“Do you think Miu Inoue will write another book?”
A question I’d been unable to answer.
But if Miu Inoue were to write another book—if he were to read it under some other sky—it was unlikely, but—
If that happened, maybe he would sing again, too.
In the spring, Tohko would be gone.
I couldn’t keep sniffling and crying forever. I had to become strong.
But for now, I was happy to feel the warmth of Tohko’s hand; I was relieved, and while I let my tears spill
quietly out, I continued my prayers to the moon.
On the holy night the child of God came down to earth, I prayed for the happiness of Omi, of Kotobuki, and of Miu.
Nanase sent Yuka a Christmas card over e-mail.
There was a message that said she would always be best friends with Yuka; then she said that she’d replied to the e-mail from Inoue’s old girlfriend.
Saying that no matter how badly she talked about Inoue, no matter how mean she was, she wouldn’t lose faith.
That she would only believe what Inoue told her.
That tomorrow she was going to see Miu Asakura—
Hello, Mizuki Nomura here! The fourth story in the Book Girl series has arrived!
I’m SO sorry to everyone who expected Miu to show up!! I’m definitely not just messing with you. I always planned for Kotobuki to star in this one.
After all, if we went straight into the Miu story with Konoha still playing everything off, I would just feel so sorry for Kotobuki… This time, Konoha’s classmate finally took a step forward.
And so, the fourth story is The Phantom of the Opera. The Phantom is just so heartrending. I’m always moved, no matter how often I read it. There are a lot of interpretations of the Phantom in plays, movies, and novels, so it’s really interesting to compare them all! They each have their own flavor.
Speaking of flavor…the sugar tart that Tohko talks about in the opening scene is a dessert that I’m personally attached to. I only tasted it once more than ten years ago, but when I went looking for it again, I got an intense craving for it. It appears that using vergeoise made from sugar beets is the most common way of making it. And it looks really good, too!
When I’m writing Tohko’s meal scenes, I remember a flavor and think back on it, so I get hungry. It’s kind of a problem. But actually, in all the books up until now, I’ve only mixed in one thing that I absolutely hate and would never eat!
Book Girl and the Corrupted Angel Page 19
