Book Girl and the Undine Who Bore a Moonflower

by Mizuki Nomura

  “I was frightened despite my joy, and after we got home, I hugged Chiro and cried.”

  Silence fell.

  Tohko pursed her lips and gazed at her feet with a distant expression.

  I recalled again the sad face I’d seen in the pale light of dawn, unable to tell whether it was dream or reality.

  Tohko was making the same face now.

  The old diary resting on her lap.

  The red dianthus.

  My breathing grew strained and my throat squeezed tight.

  “…After that, Akira’s friend came from Tokyo to get him. They were going to study abroad in Germany on public funds thanks to a professor’s recommendation, so it says his friend told him to hurry back to Tokyo.”

  My body chilled slightly to hear the sad words she uttered with her head still hanging.

  Akira had gone.

  Yuri had chosen death, and Shirayuki had taken revenge.

  After the silence had carried on a little longer, Tohko abruptly said in a detached voice, “Konoha, do you know the phrase kyōka suigetsu? It’s written with the characters ‘mirror,’ ‘flower,’ ‘water,’ and ‘moon.’”

  “No.”

  Tohko silently turned her eyes to the rippling surface of the water.

  “The flower in the mirror and the moon in the water both look beautiful when you first glimpse them, but they’re beyond your grasp… It’s saying they’re fleeting illusions. The pen name Kyōka Izumi comes from his teacher Koyo Ozaki naming him after this phrase. Kyōka’s stories are all fleeting and beautiful, like dreams.”

  I was sure Yuri’s story with Akira had been the same.

  Beautiful, like a flower, like the moon; a dream, vanishing with the light of morning, an illusion. Kyōka suigetsu.

  It could be that even this very moment while Tohko and I were talking was itself a dream. Perhaps it would vanish like an illusion.

  When I saw the ephemeral look on Tohko’s face, that anxiety closed over me. The whisper I’d heard at dawn reawakened in my ears.

  “How much longer…can I be here?”

  “Tohko, did you say something this morning while I was asleep?”

  Tohko looked up in surprise at my too-abrupt question.

  After a look of vulnerability crossed her face, her eyes turned gentle and tinged with melancholy, and then her face split into a grin.

  “That was a dream, Konoha.”

  A voice bright like brilliant flower petals dancing together in the light.

  Her smile and her words pierced me, and I lost my voice.

  Tohko bent at the waist to peek at my face from one side. Her eyes glinting mischievously, she said, “We should head back. I’m hungry. You’ll write me a super sugary treat once we get back to the house, right?”

  Then she walked off with a refreshed expression.

  “That was a dream.”

  I wonder what that meant.

  Was she tricking me? Or had it really been a dream?

  Tohko’s steps were light.

  I turned my back on the pond, too, and followed after her.

  The time I spend with her is always like a cozy dream.

  In a small room by ourselves, filled with the gentle light of sunset, she reads a book.

  Her long eyelashes and loose strands of hair are inked with gold.

  Though she is in part ladylike, deeply thoughtful, and shy, she is also naive and intrepid.

  Just when I think she has no sense of danger and she knows nothing of the world, her cheeks are suddenly tinged red and she looks down.

  And then a gentle hand touches me.

  Summoning these memories one by one makes my heart twist sweetly.

  At the time, I had nothing but pain, and I was unable to trust people or trust to the future. It was torture to interact with others, and I stubbornly avoided conflict or telling anyone what I thought.

  I turned my eyes away from reality and huddled in my empty room.

  Despite that, she embraced me like a mother and offered me kind words. She would stay with me and listen to me talk.

  Though some day I would have to wake from the dream, when I was with her I felt so comfortable. It was so natural that this dream would go on forever—that’s what I thought.

  But her fastidiousness and love brought the dream to a dignified end.

  Away, away—

  I’ve come so far alone.

  Chapter 3—Shirayuki Appears

  When we got back to the mansion, things were in an astonishing uproar.

  “We can’t have you making rash decisions, Miss. We must have the master’s permission first.”

  “During the summer, the master of this house is me. Now then, don’t be afraid. Get started.”

  “Miss!”

  Maki and the butler were butting heads when we came running through the front door, as if Baron was hunting us. The housekeeper and gardener both had deeply troubled looks on their faces, too, and all around them stood shifting groups of people wearing work clothes and holding measuring instruments and people I didn’t recognize in suits.

  “Wh-what’s going on?”

  Tohko’s eyes went wide.

  “Oh, welcome back, Tohko, Konoha.”

  “What are they going to do?”

  “You need to make preparations and get estimates when you’re going to knock down a house, don’t you?” Maki answered flippantly.

  Tohko shouted, frantic, “What?! Wasn’t the development put on hold because of the residents’ opposition?”

  “For building the factory, yes. But it’s my decision if I want to demolish my own house, right? It’s ridiculous to cower forever over this Shirayuki that we don’t know actually exists. I’ll smash it up and prove there’s no curse.”

  “You can’t…! What if the curse happens?”

  “What’s that? You don’t believe in ghosts or curses, I thought?”

  “Urk. That’s true, but…”

  Tohko trailed off, her face gray.

  I felt a cool draft and turned around, and there was Uotani standing in a nook of the hallway, glaring at Maki.

  Her frigid eyes clouded with frustration and loathing.

  My body stiffened with a shudder.

  That look was incredible.

  And why her? Was she afraid of the curse? Was she critical of Maki, who was trying to commit the offense?

  “Grandpa’s soft. I’m doing this my way. Shirayuki doesn’t exist. Neither does the curse. It’s all a delusion. Even if the curse does happen, I’ll take it all on myself. Relax and get to work if you please.”

  She made the declaration to everyone while donning a bewitching smile, as if to say there was nothing to be afraid of.

  It appeared that her imperious, princess-like tone and bearing weren’t quite convincing for the butler.

  “But it’s so violent,” Tohko murmured worriedly.

  She was right. Getting all these workers together out of nowhere without so much as a word of warning was too impetuous. This would just elicit the residents’ animosity unnecessarily. Uotani was still glaring at Maki. Her hands trembled slightly as they gripped the corners of her apron.

  Maki called to an older man wearing a suit.

  “Ah, you’re the antique bookseller, aren’t you? You can take everything for whatever price you name. Sayo, show him to the library for me.”

  Uotani twitched and her face turned instantly scarlet. Her expression was a mixture of humiliation and rage. Her lips were trembling as if she wanted to say something, but just then Tohko spoke up in a panic.

  “Hold on, you’re selling all the books?!”

  “Sure. It doesn’t do anyone any good to just leave them there. Oh, could I get you to just destroy whatever isn’t worth selling?”

  Maki called out to the man who would handle it.

  Uh-oh.

  At the word destroy, Tohko lost it.

  I thought I heard a snap, and it looked as though flames of rage were leaping from her body with en
ough ferocity to engulf heaven.

  “What terrible things you’re saying! There’s not a single book in this world that it’s okay to destroy!”

  Intimidated by her voice, which seemed to reverberate though the mansion, and by the aura of her intemperate rage, the workers who had started heading to their tasks stopped moving with a jolt. The servants who had been watching it all, ashen, also looked toward Tohko.

  Uotani was agape as well.

  Ugh, I need to calm her down soon, I thought, wanting to put my head in my hands. Maki was the only one unaffected, and she snorted as if it was utter nonsense.

  “Old books get bugs in them and start to smell bad, and you can’t even read them. The same things are out in new editions so why not read those?”

  She was absolutely right. Because there isn’t any difference in the content.

  But that idea didn’t come across to the book girl who loved reading. It only poured oil on the fire.

  “No! Old books contain not only the feelings of the people who wrote them, but also hold the feelings of those who’ve read them! I, the book girl, can never forgive dismissing that as if it didn’t matter!”

  For some reason, outside the door Baron was barking loudly, too—bow-wow-wow!

  Tohko pushed her way through the workers, spread her arms across the entrance to the hall, and stood guard.

  “I won’t let you destroy a single book in this house! I’ll protect them!”

  And that was how Tohko blockaded herself in the book room and declared a hunger strike.

  “I don’t need food or water or snacks. Until Maki repents and gives up on this idea of destroying the mansion, including the book room, I won’t eat so much as a bite of food! Even if I starve to death, my only wish is to die alongside the books!”

  Starve to death? Tohko lived off something else anyway so how was not eating food any kind of issue?

  But there was no way other people could have imagined the truth, so everyone was terrified by the sincerity of Tohko’s outrage and they withdrew.

  Ten hours had passed since Tohko blockaded herself in. She had skipped lunch and her snack obviously, and she wasn’t going to eat dinner, either.

  I wound up being forced to go back and forth between her and Maki over and over.

  “Tohko, they told me dinner is ready.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Tohko says she won’t eat until you tearfully apologize and swear, ‘From now on I’ll treat every book with as much care as if it were life itself, my Queen.’”

  “Did she?”

  “Maki said, ‘If you bend now, you won’t have to put yourself through such an extreme diet. If you get any thinner, the chest you already lack is going to get so small it’ll just disappear.’”

  “Excuse me?!”

  “Tohko told me to tell you, ‘Don’t form any opinions about something you’ve never even seen. Clothes hang looser on me. I recommend reading lots of books and practicing your imagination…’”

  “What a weak defense.”

  “Maki said—”

  “Black heart! I hate her!”

  “That’s what Tohko said.”

  “My, oh my.”

  Thus did I come and go down hallways and stairs delivering messages, all the while my actions were growing more and more fruitless. I wondered why I was doing this.

  No matter how hard Tohko tried to hole up in there, there was no way Maki would ever change her mind. Tohko was losing her temper, and Maki was toying with her now.

  “All right, what did Maki say? My retort left her unable to even growl bitterly this time, right?”

  Tohko ran up to me when I returned to the library. Her legs wobbled a little, perhaps because of her hunger.

  She could have just eaten the books I’d gotten for her, but exasperatingly, it looked as if she was doing a real hunger strike. She hadn’t eaten anything but the mugwort dumplings ever since the Thomas Mann she’d had early that morning, which was probably relatively tough for a glutton like Tohko.

  I started to pass on the message Maki had given me, but I was a little hesitant.

  “Hmm? What is it, Konoha?”

  “…I love you.”

  Tohko recoiled instantly and turned bright red from her neck up to her ears.

  “Wha-wha-wha-wha-wha-wha…?”

  “Marry me.”

  “K-Konoha—”

  “I can make you happy.”

  Her eyes locked on mine, and her mouth open and shut repeatedly.

  My cheeks felt as though they were on fire, too.

  “That’s what Maki told me to tell you.”

  “M-Maki?”

  Tohko’s face flared crimson, and the next moment she flopped limply onto the chaise lounge, as if all the strength had gone out of her. She lay there on her stomach as rubbery as a mollusk.

  “Uggggh, she got me…All of that just made me hungrier.”

  She twitched as if she no longer had the energy to lift her head.

  Sigh. Maki really did have the upper hand by far. Tohko couldn’t hope to match her.

  “You should eat something, Tohko. Do you want me to write you a story?”

  “Urgh—no. I said I would do a hunger strike until Maki calls off the demolition.”

  “It’s fine as long as you don’t eat normal food, though. She’ll never know if you just sneak bits of paper.”

  “That’s dishonest.”

  She insisted stubbornly. She was so hardheaded in this way.

  “Konoha…will you give Maki a message?”

  “Another one?!” I shouted, fed up.

  Tohko lifted her face petulantly as she lay limply on the chair. Her cheeks were puffed up like a hamster storing food, and her mouth curved into a frown as she said, “I would die before I became the bride of someone who disrespects books.”

  Sitting on a leather-upholstered chair, Maki snickered.

  “Oh no, I’ve been dumped.”

  “Please, let this go now. My messenger services are closed for business.”

  “That’s too bad. I was thinking of a declaration of love so intense it would make Tohko faint.”

  “You were going to make me say it? You’re so twisted.”

  Even remembering the proposal I’d just made practically caused flames to leap off my face.

  “Tohko is an unthinking straight line, so she really can keep going with this hunger strike until it takes her down. Couldn’t you put the work tearing down the house on hold, even if it’s just for the summer? I don’t care what you do after that.”

  “You’re pretty devious, huh?”

  “Coming from you, I don’t think I like hearing that.”

  What was Maki plotting, gathering together the descendants of the victims eighty years ago, making Takamizawa bring me here, and making me say something that would invite confusion?

  She wouldn’t tell me even if I asked. And I was tired of involving myself in trouble.

  Maki gave a sharp, knifelike smile.

  “But Konoha, when summer’s over, it’ll be too late. It doesn’t mean anything unless I do it now.”

  The window facing the balcony rattled in the wind.

  The cold air being spewed from the air conditioner gave me a sudden chill.

  Maki’s expression returned instantly to her friendly cheerfulness, and she said without ever consulting me, “And that is why I need you to make Tohko eat somehow. You’re used to handling her, aren’t you? I appreciate it.”

  I let out a sigh and exited the room.

  If I could handle Tohko, I wouldn’t suffer like this every time.

  On my way back to the room where the famished book girl awaited, I was considering what I could possibly do now when I ran into Uotani.

  She pushed a tray loaded with rice balls, pickles, and miso soup at me with a sullen look on her face.

  “What?”

  “…For Miss Tohko,” she muttered and turned aside with a glower.

  “Th-than
ks.”

  Surprised, I accepted the tray and thanked her.

  She glanced up at me, then immediately turned her back.

  “Please leave the dishes in the kitchen,” she said brusquely and went away with quick steps.

  …On the surface she seemed harsh, but maybe she was nice.

  The way she’d left was a lot like Kotobuki.

  When I opened the door, Tohko was sprawled across the chaise lounge.

  “Urgh…what’s that, Konoha?”

  Apparently she was too hungry to see things clearly, and she stared at my hands, lower lip trembling.

  “It’s a late meal.”

  “You’re going to eat by yourself?! You already had dinner. Sneak. Torturer. Devil.”

  “No, this is for you.”

  I set the tray on a table.

  “Uotani was worried about you and went out of her way to bring you this.”

  “Really?”

  Tohko lightly touched the plate and fixed her eyes on the food.

  “…It’s my virtue that does it.”

  I nearly fell over.

  Tohko was acting as though Uotani giving her food had deeply affected her.

  “Then since you won’t be eating anything, why not clean the plate, for Uotani’s sake?”

  “Urgh…okay.”

  With a crestfallen look, she picked up a tasteless rice ball and bit into it little by little.

  “It tastes like human kindness…it’s salty and sweet.”

  I sat down next to Tohko and started writing things down in my day planner.

  “What are you writing?”

  “I’m just killing time.”

  By the time the dishes were all empty, I had completed a frivolous story that took up two pages.