Book Girl and the Undine Who Bore a Moonflower

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Book Girl and the Undine Who Bore a Moonflower Page 12

by Mizuki Nomura


  That old woven ball…I’d seen it before…

  Could the rhyme be the song Uotani had been singing that day?

  Once we’d pulled her bedding out of the closet and spread it out and put her to bed, we left the room.

  Just as we closed the door and were about to walk off, there was a whisper of a song behind us.

  A snake is in the swamp there.

  Rich old spirit’s little girl

  Get you up and set a trap

  A bead of water ’pon her neck,

  Golden shoes upon her feet,

  Call me this and call me that

  To the mountain or the field, go, go, go…

  Tohko and I looked at each other.

  When we returned to her room after that with warm milk and honey and some fever medicine, Uotani was sitting up in bed cradling the ball in her arms like a baby and tonelessly singing the same song.

  A snake is in the swamp there,

  in the swamp there.

  Her monotonous voice and her vacant eyes, as if she was lost in a dreamworld, made my skin prickle.

  The events of last night could have given her such a shock that it threatened her mental balance.

  Even if she looked undaunted, she had only just started middle school, so it was only to be expected, but…

  Tohko made her drink the milk and the medicine, then told Uotani a story to take her mind off everything, during which Uotani finally fell asleep.

  We made sure she was asleep, then quietly left the room.

  “That song is in Kyōka’s The Grass Labyrinth,” Tohko said once we’d gone a little way from the room.

  “That’s the story where Akira Hagoshi is the main character, right? The one where he stays at a haunted mansion to find his mother’s lullaby. So then, do you think Uotani’s grandmother read it in The Grass Labyrinth and taught the song to Uotani? But what’s ‘the land of dragons’? Is there a dragon god in that story like there is in Demon Pond?”

  “No…although…”

  Tohko’s eyebrows pulled a little closer together, as if something were bothering her, and she put an index finger to her lips. And just like that, she fell silent.

  That night in my bed, Tohko read Yuri’s diary to the end for me.

  The bookmark, made from a pressed, red dianthus, was stuck between the pages of the diary.

  I leaned against the headboard with my legs stretched out in front of me and listened.

  “Akira might leave. He’s had a troubled look ever since his friend came. His friend has said that studying abroad is something Akira wants with all his heart. I know it’s true. Because Akira told me so.”

  “It’s hard for me to see Akira lost in thought, and when I tried to go for a walk with Chiro, Baron barked at us with terrifying ferocity. Chiro got angry and tried to go toward Baron, so I quickly stopped her.”

  “Shirayuki came to the house! When I looked out the window, she was standing there with cold eyes! ‘Everything will be well if you let me handle it, who cares about breaking a promise, if you did you’d be free,’ she said, to tempt me. But I could never break my promise. I’m the oracle who prays for the prosperity of the Himekuras, and I’m my father’s daughter. I don’t resemble my father or anyone in the family…There are some people who say awful things about that fact. But my father calls me, ‘My daughter.’ And my current mother, father’s second wife, also used to speak kindly to me when I was still there. I could never disappoint them.”

  “Akira intends to study abroad after all. I eavesdropped on him talking with his friend, and the world came crashing down around me. It felt as if my chest would tear open. The fairy tale is ending; it’s ending, it’s ending.”

  “A volume came from Father. I have nothing but that to cling to now. I thought if I could see Father’s message, it might soothe me, so I went to the butler’s room and tore the wrapping off the freshly arrived package and opened the book. I had been told before that I mustn’t do such unseemly things, but I thought I would go crazy if I didn’t.

  “But when I opened the cover, I knew that this was not a book like the others I’d received from my father up until now.

  “My father’s books will no longer offer me comfort. The words To my daughter will never again echo through my heart. There is only despair like falling into a pit of darkness.”

  “The butler brought the book from my father. It’s sitting on my desk. I turned back the cover and stared at my father’s message. Tears filled my eyes and refused to stop.

  “So it was true when everyone said that I was not my father’s child, but a child of sin, born as the result of my late mother’s infidelity.

  “There is no happiness left to me. If I was to meet Shirayuki now, I would surrender to her temptations. I must not go to the lake at night. I considered it, but then there was a tap-tap-tap at the window, and when I turned around, Shirayuki was there, smiling. ‘Back, back,’ I beseeched her over and over.”

  Tohko huddled on the bed and continued reading dispassionately.

  Bent over the book, her profile looked calm, but her eyes were a little watery.

  It was said that Yuri wasn’t a true child of the Himekuras.

  When I thought about it now, the souvenir shop owner and Maki had both said things suggestive of that. That there were circumstances that kept Yuri from being with her family. Was that because Yuri was a product of her late mother’s affair?

  Yuri’s sadness pressed in on my chest.

  At the same time, mentions of Shirayuki in the diary increased as well. Shirayuki, who she had only encountered at the pond before, began appearing at the house and would tap on the window the entire night.

  Yuri’s spirit was haunted more and more and grew heavy with madness.

  “Please, Shirayuki, don’t come here. No, you’re wrong. I’m still keeping my promise. You’re wrong, you’re wrong. It’s not like that. I’m not a ghoul like you. I mustn’t go to the pond. My promise. Our promise.”

  “Shirayuki beckons to me from the window. I won’t go to the pond. I think I’ll put up some red flowers. White flowers are so ugly—I hate them. I think I’ll tear apart every one of the white flowers, every one of them, and throw them away. I can’t go to the pond at night. After all, the moonlight is white; I mean, it’s white after all, white; I mean, it’s white, it’s white. White, white. Pure white. Ugly. Terrifying. After all, it’s white. My father’s books. Baron is barking. Whenever I try to go out, Baron barks. Baron bit Chiro and she got covered in blood. I bandaged her and I was crying. I thought Chiro was going to die because she’d lost so much blood. I can’t see Chiro. Akira is setting out next week.”

  A parade of incomprehensible words.

  Maybe Yuri had gone crazy.

  Around this point, my mind surrendered to sleep and grew muddled. Yuri and Shirayuki and Maki wearing an old-style kimono and Tohko and Uotani and the pond at night and a red ball and swirling fireflies mixed together in a jumble in my head, and I started losing control.

  Yuri, hugging a doll and singing a lullaby, anxious that Akira Hagiwara might go away, was Uotani. Shirayuki ordering the temple bell to be toppled was Maki. Yuri slashing open her own chest with a sickle was Tohko.

  Why did you give me a dream?

  Even every dream must be woken from?

  In the end, love is a flower reflected in a mirror. The moon floating on the water.

  I know Akira will come back.

  No, Akira is gone.

  A torrent of vividly colored consciousness. My body sank heavily into it, as if it were being sucked in.

  And that moment—

  Yuri’s words, rushing into my ears, became suddenly calm.

  “Something wonderful happened. I won’t ever grieve again. I’m the happiest person in the world.”

  Calm, yet somehow desolate and sad—

  That was the tone in which Tohko read the next part of the diary.

  “I made a promise with Akira.

  “An import
ant promise.

  “I nodded, ‘all right.’

  “When I asked if I could grow lemon trees and myrtle, he laughed at me. Akira’s dear laugh that I’ll never forget for the rest of my life.

  “After that, I retreated to my room and painted a picture with watercolors.

  “A solid wall of books. Right in the middle of it, there’s me, smiling happily, radiant, more contented than anyone.

  “I made a promise to myself, too.

  “This one is different from the others. It’s a promise that will never be broken.

  “Since I was able to meet Akira, I know that I’ll be smiling for the rest of my life.”

  “That’s the end…,” Tohko’s whisper trailed off.

  When I barely lifted my eyelids, there was the same sad face I’d seen that dawn and the red dianthus blossom fluttered down from the diary’s last page.

  With her head bowed so sadly, my chest tightened and I felt uneasy.

  Argh, I wish all of this were a dream and that when I wake up, I’ll be in my own bed and my mother will be coming to tell me that breakfast is ready.

  Her promise was pure and beautiful, strong and energetic, and also demandingly cruel.

  With an expression that showed she was pushing her sadness into hiding, she looked unswervingly at me and quietly whispered, “Maybe I’m wrong.”

  “Even I can’t explain it very well.

  “But I have to do it.

  “It’s because I’m my father’s daughter.”

  The mysterious blood that had continued pumping from the distant days of old and which flowed inside her—the bond linking and entangling people with each other, that was the beginning of everything, and it brought her and me together and bound us tightly and now it has pulled us far apart.

  But it was fun. I was happy; I’m glad I was able to meet her.

  I don’t regret for a second that we were able to be this close.

  I told her that with a look that was almost heart-wrenchingly gentle, and no matter how I called to her among the soft white petals, in the end she never looked back.

  I thought of her again and again, to the point that I was unconsciously mimicking her habits, and retraced our story from our meeting to our parting.

  I wonder how Undine is doing.

  Afterward, I too left the little room of books where we had spent our time together.

  It wasn’t my mother’s voice that woke me from my slumber; it was a motorcycle engine and Baron’s barking.

  Early morning. The sky was still pale at this hour, and Tohko was breathing evenly in her sleep beside me with her back turned toward me.

  The night before she had read Yuri’s diary to me at my pillow. I had a hazy memory of Tohko murmuring, “That’s the end.” But apparently that’s when I’d fallen asleep.

  Outside, Baron was barking noisily. I got out of bed and pulled back the curtain over the window that looked out over the garden.

  A jolt went through me instantly.

  A big motorcycle was parked outside the gate.

  Beside it, a couple was mashed together in each other’s arms, kissing.

  Baron was pushing his nose through the bars and berating them—bow-bow-bow—but they didn’t budge; their faces bent, they exchanged passionate, hungry kisses.

  The woman had swathed her remarkable figure, which was more than competition for Maki’s, in a biker suit. Her dyed blond hair cascaded to her shoulders, and even at a distance I could tell she was pretty.

  The man was in jeans and a jacket, tall and broad shouldered, and he, too, was a pretty good-looking guy—hold on, I knew him.

  That was Ryuto! The son of the family Tohko was boarding with who was younger than me. Ryuto was a first-year in high school, even though he looked as if he was in college.

  What was Ryuto doing here first thing in the morning, having a make-out session in front of the gates to Maki’s vacation house?!

  “…Mm, Konoha, you’re awake?”

  There was a limp voice behind me, and I jumped into the air.

  Tohko sat up, her bangs bent in odd directions from her sleep, and rubbed her eyes groggily.

  “G’morning, Konoha.”

  “G-good morning.”

  Uh-oh. I couldn’t let Tohko see the scene in progress outside the window.

  “Why are you closing the curtains?”

  “The sun’s too bright. It’s hurting my eyes.”

  “It doesn’t look like the sun’s that far up to me.”

  Tohko climbed out of bed. I stole a glance through the gap in the curtains and saw the love scene was still going on. You take forever, Ryuto! Can’t you wrap it up?

  “Hey, hey, you can’t come over here, Tohko.”

  “Hmph. Why not?”

  Now I’d made her suspicious, and she drew steadily nearer, her face set.

  “Are you hiding something out there? Why is Baron barking so much?”

  “I-it’s Shirayuki! Shirayuki is pressed up against the window.”

  “What?!”

  Tohko paled instantly and drew back.

  Ha! She won’t be ripping the curtains open now!

  “O-oh no. What’re we going to do, Konoha? But I have to confirm it with my own eyes.”

  Her face took on a certain determination, and she reached out her hands and threw the curtains open to either side.

  I’d relaxed completely and let my guard slip, so there was nothing I could do to stop her.

  “Ack!”

  The curtains were wide open and the spectacle outside was exposed.

  Ryuto was still right in the middle of his make-out session. A kiss on the lips moved from the cheek to the ear, then went back to the cheek, then turned toward the neck.

  Tohko plastered herself against the window and trembled.

  Then she threw the window open and leaned out of it to scream.

  “Ryuto!! What’re you doing?!”

  “I just don’t get you! Why can’t you arrive like a normal person?!”

  When Tohko had finished changing and rebraided her hair, she came and pounded on Ryuto with a silver tray.

  “But Tohko, you badgered me to do this super-urgent investigation and get my butt out here. But it’s not like I got a license, and the trains don’t run out here, either. And it looked pretty pointless to try hitchhikin’ in the middle of the boonies. The only option I had left was to ask a favor of someone I know who has a ride.”

  “Y-you have a point—but you didn’t have to smooch all over her, did you?! You can’t do things like that in public. I’ve told you that millions of times since kindergarten. Why haven’t you gotten any better?!”

  Actually, you’re the marvel to keep saying that millions of times since kindergarten, Tohko.

  The woman who’d been kissing Ryuto got on her bike and went home. As she was leaving, she casually pressed her lips to Ryuto’s with a “See ya,” enraging Tohko even further.

  “But you can’t just be like, ‘Okay, bye,’ when someone gives you a ride. Nobody even thinks twice about somethin’ like that in other countries.”

  “This is Japan and you’re Japanese!”

  She smuuuuuuuuushed a tray into Ryuto’s face.

  “T-Tohko…! Yer smashin’ my nose! I can’t breathe. Save me, Konoha…”

  I believed he’d only brought this on himself, but I limply grabbed Tohko’s arm from behind her.

  “Let’s leave it at that. He did come all this way for you.”

  “Mrr…”

  Tohko looked from me to Ryuto’s twitching form, pursed her lips a little, then lowered the tray.

  “Whoo! That was rough. I owe ya, Konoha.”

  “The next time I catch you doing lewd things, even Konoha’s pleas won’t save you.”

  Tohko glared at Ryuto and sat in her chair. The breakfast the housekeeper had brought us a few moments ago was arranged on a round table. There was a cold ratatouille of boiled summer vegetables like eggplant and tomatoes and paprika seasoned wi
th olive oil, plus freshly baked baguettes, herbed cheeses, and runny omelets. Hot tea in a pot. Cool Perrier in glass bottles.

  Ryuto and I sat down, too, and served ourselves breakfast.

  Tohko opened Fouqué’s Undine, tore in from the edge, and took a bite.

  “Friedrich Fouqué was a German author born in 1777. He came from an old line of nobility, and his grandfather had even been a Prussian general. Fouqué changed careers, leaving behind the military life to become an author, and in 1811, his most famous work, Undine, came out.

  “Undine the water spirit falls in love with the knight, Huldebrand, and becomes his wife, but Huldebrand breaks a prohibition and speaks badly of Undine on the water, and so unable to stay in the world of humans, she returns to the world of water.

  “Having lost Undine, Huldebrand tries to marry another woman.

  “But that was an unforgivable act in the world of water. Undine was bound by their laws to deliver death upon Huldebrand with her own hand.

  “It’s rustic and fondly familiar and a little bitter…a little tender…like biting into hard rye bread that’s full of raisins. The more you chew, the more the sourness of the rye develops and melds with the natural sweetness of the raisins, leaving a poignant echo on your tongue…”

  She munched on the shreds of the page with a slight rustling noise, and as she swallowed, Tohko let out a sigh.

 

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