Book Girl and the Scribe Who Faced God, Part 2

by Mizuki Nomura

  “… Why don’t we excuse ourselves, Asakura?”

  “But then there wasn’t any point in waiting for him to get here. You can go wherever you want by yourself, can’t you, Kazushi? Right, Kotobuki?”

  Holding herself up on her crutch, Miu suddenly shoved Kotobuki forward with her other hand.

  “Eek!”

  “Agh!”

  I hurried to catch Kotobuki as she toppled over.

  “A-are you okay?”

  As I looked down at her, holding her in my arms, Kotobuki’s eyes watered and her jaw locked.

  A shock went through me, seeing her look as if she might burst into tears any second.

  “I… didn’t tell you I get superjealous, Inoue?”

  “Wh—? Uh… yeah.”

  Suddenly there was a loud noise and my cheek burned.

  Her right hand still in the air, Kotobuki glared at me, lips pursed. I was dazed as she said, all in an angry rush, “You jerk! You’re such a jerk! Why did you go see Tohko?! E-even if you do have a reason, it ticks me off… I was looking forward to the movie! And then we were supposed to go to your house afterward—I was looking forward to it… so, so much. And then you did that! I ate all the cookies I brought with me! Even though I made them for you! I hate, hate, hate you! You two-timer!”

  She walloped me in the head again, this time with her hand squeezed into a fist.

  Behind her, Miu shrugged her shoulders and Akutagawa was gaping.

  Kotobuki was panting, her shoulders heaving, when suddenly her face crumpled and her expression became dejected and sad.

  “I… I’m really angry. It feels like my chest is going to rip itself apart, I’m so jealous of Tohko.”

  Hearing those words, seeing her face, it felt like my heart would break apart, too.

  I made Kotobuki sad so, so often. Even though she was my girlfriend.

  “I’m angry… about a lot of stuff. So I don’t mean this forever, but… don’t talk to me for a little while!”

  She dropped her clenched hand and spun on her heel. Unlike Tohko, her small frame was obviously shaking.

  “Y-your bathroom?” she said roughly to Akutagawa. “I need to use your bathroom.”

  “R-right…”

  Akutagawa went with Kotobuki out of the room. She kept her eyes turned away, trying not to look at me. Her face was trembling with frailty, even in profile.

  Out of nowhere, I got hit on the cheek again.

  There was a sharp crack. It was Miu who’d hit me this time.

  Her large eyes shone with displeasure. I stood dazed, and this time she scratched me right across the face.

  “You’re a real professional at hurting girls, Konoha.”

  “Miu…”

  A chill went through my spine at the coldness in her voice.

  I felt like there was loathing in Miu’s eyes. That fact threw icy water over my body.

  “You’ve still got a spaced-out look on your face. Why don’t you wake up for a change? You still haven’t picked up on it? Tohko Amano is someone who doesn’t exist in the real world.”

  My heart gave a jolt.

  “Is that… from Kanako’s novel?”

  Her expression still hard, Miu stared straight into my face and said, “Yes, it is. I read The Immoral Passage. Toco is a girl who doesn’t exist—but it’s more than that. At the planetarium, she recited the last scene from Like the Open Sky from memory. But it wasn’t in the book. I wondered how she knew about your first draft, and it bugged me.

  “I found out from Sakurai that his mom writes stuff. I never suspected she was Kanako Sakurai. But after what happened at the planetarium, I read your book over again and saw Kanako Sakurai’s name in the judge’s reviews and that made me realize. Tohko Amano is the baby Toco from Kanako Sakurai’s novel.

  “And if she had a connection to Kanako Sakurai, then it wasn’t strange for her to have read your first draft, either. She would also know that you’re Miu Inoue. But she was at your side, hiding that knowledge. She’d been keeping a secret from you—”

  Akutagawa and Kotobuki still hadn’t come back.

  Miu’s expression grew sharper and sharper. To the point that I thought maybe she still hated me—

  “Why didn’t she tell the truth? In order to make you write another book, right? The kind president who’s been at your side this whole time, protecting you—Tohko Amano who’s been with you for two years—is a convenient illusion!”

  Her fiery shout rose up alongside the pain that crushed my body.

  It wasn’t true!

  Tohko had kept quiet about the truth, but the kindness and warmth she had shown me were all genuine, too.

  And yet I hadn’t been able to forgive her one betrayal and had attacked her.

  I hadn’t tried to understand the pain or suffering Tohko felt, driven to such extremes that control of emotions was impossible. I’d run away, wanting to make myself the only victim. Even though Tohko had always been kind to me—always—and had constantly worried about me!

  Miu’s face crumpled suddenly and took on a sad, sympathetic look.

  “… Don’t make that face, like an abandoned puppy. You should face reality sooner rather than later. Because you have a girl who isn’t an illusion.”

  And then her eyes crinkled in an even sadder smile.

  “You know… Kotobuki didn’t cry once. There were a bunch of times she looked like was about to while she was waiting for you, but she stayed strong in front of us and she didn’t do it.”

  I realized now the reason why Kotobuki still hadn’t come back. She was obviously crying, alone in the bathroom, hiding her sobs…

  I hung my head and Miu kept talking.

  “Konoha, did you know that there’s a sequel to The Immoral Passage? It’s a short story that ran in a magazine and it was never made into a book, but…”

  The pitch of her voice grew slightly lower.

  “The doll of Toco grows up little by little, even though she’s a doll, until one day she moves of her own volition and kills Arisa.”

  The sliding door rattled, which made me shiver.

  I realized that Akutagawa and Kotobuki had returned, and the sweat that had broken out over my skin dried with a shuddering chill.

  Kotobuki’s eyes were red. When I saw that, a stab went through me.

  “Why don’t you stay the night, too, Inoue? It’s late. Asakura and Kotobuki, you two should head to bed soon. There are blankets in the guest room. You don’t mind staying with me, right, Inoue?”

  “Thanks. But I’m going to go home.”

  Her back turned, Kotobuki’s shoulders jerked.

  Akutagawa knit his brows.

  “You won’t be able to catch a cab in this neighborhood.”

  “I’ll work something out.”

  “Use my bike. You can just ride it to school, then.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

  Outside, it was bone-chillingly cold. It was nearing one o’clock at night.

  “Thanks for everything today, really.”

  “Be careful. Don’t get into any accidents.”

  I nodded and had set my feet on the pedals when Kotobuki came through the gate, her lips pursed.

  “I’ll see you.”

  Akutagawa patted my shoulder and walked away.

  Kotobuki’s face tightened and she was glaring at me, but she stuck out a hand without a word.

  Gloves?

  “… Your hands are going to get numb on a bike.”

  “You brought these out for me?”

  Without replying, she whipped her face sharply away.

  I accepted them and slipped them on with a feeling that warmed my heart. The cutesy pink gloves enveloped my hands in warmth.

  “Thanks.”

  Her face still turned away, Kotobuki bent her lips.

  Then all of a sudden, she said in a blunt voice, “I-I’m still mad, so don’t try and talk to me at school or anything. And I’m going in by myself in the morning, so don
’t wait for me. B-but… if you think you still want to go out with me, then prove it.”

  “… Prove it?”

  Kotobuki looked up at me, glowering, and there was something vulnerable there—and yet she seemed to have planted her feet.

  “In return for what I did on Valentine’s Day… I want you to call me Nanase on the fourteenth. If you do that, I’ll trust you. Until then, I’m not going to talk to you.”

  She finished her blunt speech, turned her back, and ran off through the gate.

  After watching her go with a dismal feeling, I started pedaling the bike.

  The dark road, sunk in the silence of night, was like the limitless pitch black of outer space.

  As I lightly pedaled, I thought back over what Miu had said with a pain that twinged relentlessly.

  “You should face reality sooner rather than later. Because you have a girl who isn’t an illusion.”

  “The Tohko Amano who’s been with you for two years—is a convenient illusion!”

  My heart pounded heavily. The breath clinging to my face was lukewarm and white, and though my body was cold, the back of my throat was hot and prickly.

  I knew perfectly well who I should choose between Kotobuki and Tohko.

  “It’s fine.”

  The view of Tohko’s resolute frame when she had smiled and turned her back on me and Kotobuki’s precariously trembling back came to mind simultaneously and my throat hurt even worse.

  Tohko trying to leave me.

  Kotobuki coming toward me clumsily, persistently.

  Even though there could hardly be anyone but Kotobuki who would walk with me down the wide, warm path I wanted.

  Why did I end up thinking only of Tohko like this?

  “The doll of Toco grows up little by little, even though she’s a doll, until one day she moves of her own volition and kills Arisa.”

  What was it Miu had been saying?

  A doll killing someone? Toco killing Arisa?

  Tohko killing Kanako?

  No—that couldn’t be anything but fiction. To think of Tohko, who clung to Kanako almost despairingly, killing her—

  I stopped the bike in front of my house.

  Someone was crouching down beside the gate, hugging one knee to their chest.

  The lamp on the bicycle shone on Ryuto.

  He slowly lifted his head, and the face that looked up at me gave me a shock like a slap in the face.

  Ryuto was crying.

  It wasn’t the violent crying like when he’d come to my house before, clinging to me and bawling. It was quieter than that.

  Transparent tears fell over his cheeks from wide-open eyes. They were vulnerable tears that seemed to vanish in the air. His hair and clothes were disheveled, and sorrow and tortured pain hovered in his moist eyes along with deep despair.

  Was this another trap?

  Although this looked nothing like an act. Ryuto seemed so shredded and full of suffering that he honestly couldn’t stand. He made no sound; he didn’t even twitch. His tears simply continued flowing.

  I approached Ryuto, rolling the bike alongside me.

  In the still darkness, the rattling of the tires could be heard.

  “… What’s the matter?”

  Ryuto was looking up at me, his tears still flowing. A gaze ripe with suffering, as if begging for salvation, that seemed to say, “If I can’t have that, then kill me and let me be at peace.”

  He whispered powerlessly, his voice hoarse. “Konoha, there’s some things… you’re better off not knowin’. And once you find out… you can’t go back.”

  A tear dripped onto his knee.

  His torn jeans sucked the tear in and changed color.

  “I… can’t tell Tohko… nngh…”

  His throat trembling, he buried his face against his knee and wept quietly.

  The sight of him was so agonizing it dug at my heart.

  What had Ryuto found out that he was this tortured by it?

  “What can’t you tell her?”

  His face still lowered, Ryuto shook his head from side to side.

  I parked the bike in front of the gate and then laid a hand on Ryuto’s shoulder.

  “Let’s go in the house. You’ll catch cold.”

  Ryuto shook his head again and sobbed low.

  “Konoha… thank you for chasin’ Tohko down today. I can’t do anythin’ to save her now. I want her to be happy…’cos…’cos she’s special. But I can’t do it… I’ve been with her since I was a kid… but when it came down to it, I couldn’t do anythin’.”

  Ryuto’s tears were dropping into my heart, too.

  With each one, a soft region deep inside my chest burned. The almost irritating sense of melancholy made it difficult to breathe.

  Ryuto lifted his face, wet with tears, and looked at me. With a voice that threatened to break off, with an expression that did the same, he pieced his words together.

  “Konoha… please write. For Tohko. You’re the only one who can save her… Tohko made her decision a long time ago. I can’t stop her. But you’re her author… so if you write… nngh… that’s all I’d ever ask.”

  Sadness washed over my body.

  Ryuto… Tohko told me I didn’t have to write anymore.

  She said it was fine.

  She smiled quietly and turned her back.

  Seeing my face tight and silent, Ryuto seemed even more deeply despondent.

  He dropped his head and scrubbed at it, curling into a ball and weeping at my feet.

  Finally he stood sluggishly and stumbled off.

  “Ryuto…”

  Even when I called to him, he never turned around as he departed.

  Do you think I’ll ever be able to see the narrow gate, too, Kana?

  Do you think I’ll have the courage to return everything I own to where it belongs, to say everything that needs to be said, to trust myself to the person I must trust and pass alone through that gate?

  I was brushing Tohko’s hair, thinking about that, when suddenly I felt as if my heart was breaking, and I held Tohko in my arms and cried.

  Tohko was so surprised.

  I told her, “I love you, Tohko, I love you so much,” and Tohko did her best to tell me, “I love you, too,” and then my chest hurt even more.

  “Why are you crying, Mommy? Did you have a fight with Daddy? Did Daddy do something wrong? Huh? Mommy?”

  “No… no, it’s not that. Mommy’s happy. She’s so very happy that it made her cry.”

  I don’t know what I should do, Kana.

  I’m the one who triggered it. If I hadn’t acted so stupidly, nothing would have happened between us.

  Fate turned around somewhere beyond my reach.

  I know it’s not good for me to be with you.

  I’ll stop you from growing. I’ll get in the way.

  I know that, but I can’t help wanting to be with you.

  Like before, just the two of us, forever and ever—

  I don’t have to write. As long as we can be together, I never have to write a novel! I want to scream that.

  God, please never make me say that.

  If that day comes, I hope that I’ll be able to smile sunnily, as if I had nothing at all to be sad about, and go through the gate.

  Chapter 5—The Anguish of Paradise

  I put the gloves into Kotobuki’s desk along with a note that said, “Thanks.”

  Kotobuki usually came early, but this morning she came in just before the bell, then kept her eyes turned unnaturally away from me and sat down at her desk. She started to put her textbooks away and must have found the gloves. She seemed to gasp, then pulled the pink gloves out of her desk, and her face fell and became forlorn. Then she hugged the gloves gently to her chest and lowered her eyes.

  I watched her, feeling desolate.

  The fact that Ryuto had acted so strangely nagged constantly at my mind, too, and I made a promise with Takeda to meet in the library basement at lunch.

 
Takeda got there first and had spread her lunch over the desk. The container with cartoon characters drawn all over it was neatly packed with bacon-wrapped asparagus and broccoli.

  “How can you even eat?”

  It was cold and dark and creepy more than anything else… I didn’t think it was the right environment for a meal. Takeda dipped her fork calmly and chomped on her chicken fried rice as she said, “I’ve been drinking tea and eating candy alone for a long time. If you don’t eat now, you won’t have time to.”

  “… That’s okay. I’ll eat later.”

  Takeda blithely said, “Oh, okay,” and split her tea with me. She poured some into the cap of her thermos and then held it out to me invitingly. It was so cold I thought I was going to freeze, so I accepted it gratefully. Today she had jasmine tea.

  I saw a paperback copy of No Longer Human on the desk and felt a chill, but I started to tell her about Saturday.

  Takeda continued eating dispassionately and listened with a face as empty as a doll’s. Occasionally she would steal a glance at No Longer Human, then go back to eating again.

  My story ended right as her lunch box emptied.

  “I knew that Ryu called you to make you chase after Tohko. After you left Ryu’s house, he called me on my cell phone. Asking if I’d come over to his house.”

  “When was that?”

  “A little bit before noon. He told me to make lunch, so I took some food over. Ryu seemed like he was in a good mood then. He was so happy telling me about how you’d blown off your date with Nanase and gone off after Tohko. He said you liked Tohko better after all.”

  I knew Ryuto was making me dance, but I didn’t like it… I’d hurt Kotobuki again because of that.

  Takeda said that after Ryuto had cleared the lunch she’d made, he’d gotten out a photo album.

  “Was that the album that belonged to Tohko’s mother?”

  The album shut away in a closet rose in my mind, and my skin tingled.

  “No. It was Ryu’s. There were hardly any photos of Ryu’s mom. It was all Tohko’s family. He told me Tohko’s house was like his home. He wasn’t particularly sad then, either. He was pretty upbeat.”

  The anomaly happened in the middle of looking through the album.

  Ryuto had been talking and in a good mood up until then, but suddenly he went pale and stared at the album and fell silent.