Book Girl and the Captive Fool (6 page)

Tohko was chucking so many cookies into her mouth and describing her impressions of each one so that I was hanging in suspense.

She was better off stopping while she was still ahead. She was going to slip up if she got too carried away. And besides, could her stomach take being crammed with all that tasteless stuff? If we ate paper, there was no question it would mess up our stomachs. Wouldn’t the opposite be true for Tohko?

“Oh, man, these leaf-shaped cookies are
so
sweet! Yum!”

“What? It’s sweet?” Kotobuki got a strange look on her face. “That’s a lemon cookie. It’s pretty tart.”

Uh-oh—you blew it.

Tohko made a quick excuse. “Oh—oh no, you’re right. Looks like that was the only part that was sweet. Yeah, it’s tart, but ever so slightly sweet, like youth.”

Somehow or other, she seemed to have recovered, and I relaxed.

Just then, I noticed Akutagawa looking down into the box of cookies with a critical eye.

His expression was pained, as if he saw something he didn’t want to see.

A chill ran through my heart.

“Is something wrong, Akutagawa?”

My question seemed to hit him physically, then a complicated smile came over his face. “No, it’s nothing.”

He took a cocoa-flavored cookie and ate it.

“I’m not a big fan of sweet things, but even I can eat these. They taste good,” he said.

Was that dark look he’d had just now because he didn’t like sweet things? I didn’t think that was all it was, and something stirred deep inside me.

Akutagawa reached for another cookie. When he’d eaten the next one, he got another—he continued eating steadily with a detached look on his face. That stirred up even more anxiety in me. It seemed like he was forcing himself to eat something he didn’t want to eat.

On the other hand, Tohko popped cookies into her mouth with a sunny smile.

Akutagawa and Tohko—did either of them really enjoy what they were eating?

Tohko’s tongue at least wasn’t detecting anything, no matter how sweet it was. She wasn’t capable of tasting.

When Tohko reached for the very last leaf-shaped lemon cookie, I shot my hand out and grabbed her arm.

“You’ve had a lot, Tohko. I want this one.”

Tohko’s eyes widened.

I picked up the last cookie and put it in my mouth.

Akutagawa and Takeda looked at me with surprise on their faces.

Kotobuki gaped at me, her face bright red, as I gulped down the cookie.

Silence filled the stage.

“Uh—um, because… because these cookies are really good!” I offered quickly in my defense when I realized how that had looked. Kotobuki rolled her eyes.

“D-don’t be stupid. You think it makes me happy to hear you complimenting me?”

“Ooooh, you’re blushing, Nanase.”

“Shut it, Takeda.”

Kotobuki glared at Takeda, her face bright red. Takeda giggled.

My cheeks were burning, too. Geez, what was I doing?

“Um—practice! Let’s practice!” someone shouted. But just then, the pocket of Akutagawa’s pants vibrated.

Akutagawa was startled and looked down at his pocket. He took out his cell phone and looked at the screen, and then his face became even more tense.

“Sorry. I have to go do something, so I need to leave early.”

He ducked his head, then slung his bag over his shoulder and left.

“I wonder what that was about.”

The three girls looked puzzled. I also wondered who had been on the other end of the line. Could it have been Sarashina?

But rehearsal quickly started back up, and I had to play Omiya for Akutagawa.

In the scenes where Omiya and Sugiko shared lines, Kotobuki tripped up several times, and she would complain, her cheeks flushing, “You’re really bad at this, Inoue. This is so hard.”

That evening, when rehearsals were over, Tohko rushed out, saying she had forgotten to record the cooking segment of some news show or other.

Takeda also waved and bounded off with a “See you tomorrow, guysss!” leaving Kotobuki and me by ourselves.

Once I’d packed up my script and notebook, my eyes met Kotobuki’s. She had already finished getting her stuff together and was standing around, looking out of place.

“Huh? Aren’t you going home, Kotobuki?”

“Yes,” she snapped, then immediately looked away in embarrassment. “Um… you think I should make more cookies?”

“Huh?”

“It looked like you wanted more.”

“Yeah, they were really good. But doesn’t it take a lot of time? I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“N-not at all. I actually kind of like cooking. Although you probably think I don’t look like the type who would. Plus Tohko seemed to like them.”

“Yes, well…”

See, Tohko? This is what happens when you gobble up cookies you can’t taste and pretend that they’re delicious. Geez, now what?
Maybe I’d make Tohko eat all the cookies she couldn’t taste. It would only be what she deserved. Or…?

I was still thinking it over when Kotobuki’s face turned suddenly indifferent.

“So it was just flattery after all.”

“Wha—no!”

“That’s the kind of guy you are, Inoue. You’ll be nice and smiley for anyone, but deep inside they have no idea what you’re thinking.”

I felt a chill, as if I’d been stabbed in the chest with an icicle.

“Never mind. Jerk.”

Kotobuki slung her bag (from which dangled a pink rabbit doll) over her shoulder, bit down hard on her lip, and hastily left the room.

I’d made her mad… again. Why did things always go that way with her?

The word
jerk
played on a loop in my mind, putting me into a sullen mood, when I heard a sigh.

“Poor Nanase. I didn’t think you were that dense, Konoha.”

Takeda stuck her head inside the door, and I thought my heart was going to stop. I thought she’d already left.

She walked toward me, her face a carefree mask.

“I forgot something, but things were looking pretty promising and I didn’t want to interrupt, so I stayed outside.”

“You mean you spied on us.”

“Or you could call it that.”

She grinned toothily, then bent over the seats and picked up a binder she’d left there.

“Nanase is
pretty
straightforward. Really, she puts up such a huge front it ticks me off and makes me want to tease her, but I wonder how come you can’t see it. Didn’t you see the pink rabbit on her bag?”

I cocked my head to one side.

“I saw the rabbit, but so what? Oh—you don’t think Kotobuki likes Akutagawa, do you?”

Kotobuki had seemed pretty concerned about Tohko and him, so I thought it might be possible. But Takeda’s shoulders slumped magnificently and she sighed.

“This is what I mean. This is why Nanase calls you a jerk. Whatever. Just act all flustered later. You’re cute when you do that.”

“Wait, what? Can you be a little clearer?”

“Nope. It’s a secret.”

Takeda hugged the binder to her chest and giggled. There was a white angel’s wing stretching across the dandelion-colored plastic.

I gasped. “That binder!”

“Heh-heh, cute isn’t it? I bought it when the three of us went to that store. It’s called the angel series, and it’s really popular with girls. They had pink and sky blue and green ones, too. Nanase bought a green notebook from the same series. We match.”

I recognized it.

Miu had liked the series, too, and had sky blue notebooks and binders from it.

The past teased at my insides like black waves.

My throat tightened and it was getting harder to breathe; I struggled to drive the memory of Miu’s face from my mind.

Somehow I forced out a few words without revealing my distress.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun. You’ve changed, Takeda. You’re more exuberant than you used to be.”

Takeda’s mask seemed to slip away, and her face emptied as a smile pulled at her lips.

“I’m not having fun.”

She looked at me with such a rational gaze that she seemed to be an entirely different person. The air suddenly grew cold.

“Not even a little bit. I’m only pretending to, because I don’t want to destroy the mood.”

Her voice was distant.

The girl standing before me was not the Chia Takeda who was so innocently puppylike, but another, lonelier Takeda who couldn’t understand people’s emotions.

I froze, speechless, and her childlike expression returned. She gave me an adorable smile.

“It doesn’t take anything special to hide what you really think and put on an act. Everyone does it. And it’s not so terrible being with you and Tohko.”

I felt like there was something caught in my throat, but I forced out a smile, too.

“I see. I’m glad, then.”

A smile that wasn’t a lie, but a smile that wasn’t true, either.

Takeda and I needed smiles like that. In order to avoid disrupting the climate between us. In order to maintain the outward appearance of peace.

“Let’s go, Konoha!”

“Yeah.”

I slung my bag over my shoulder and turned out the lights,
then left the darkened auditorium. We kept the same pace as we walked, Takeda talking gleefully about things that had happened in class or about her close friends.

I pretended not to know her secret and answered her with smiles.

Only my heart was as cold and heavy as lead.

But maybe everyone was like that.

Not just Takeda, but Akutagawa, Kotobuki, Tohko… Maybe they were all just pretending to be happy, but they weren’t really inside. Maybe nobody spoke the truth and hid it away in order to maintain their precarious balance in society or at school.

Jerk—
the sound of it echoed in my ear, and I felt an ache brush over my heart.

Smiling at everyone, being pleasant, not getting too close, not withdrawing too much, keeping just the right distance—I had been like that for a long time, because I couldn’t bear to lose something important again. Because I hated the thought of hurting anyone or of being hurt.

Now, my days went by placidly. I didn’t want to lose these peaceful, conventional hours that were nonetheless tepidly heartrending.

So Takeda and I were both likely to go on telling lies.

Outside, the sky was dyed scarlet. It looked like the end of the world.

As we passed by the side of the school building, Takeda suddenly tugged on my sleeve.

“Isn’t that Akutagawa?”

Three slender shadows were cast on the wall behind the school.

The shadows danced about, washed in the deep red sunlight. One swung its arm up, and the other two drew together, seeming to tremble.

I saw Akutagawa and Sarashina… and a boy, a student I didn’t recognize, all talking together very seriously.

Sarashina was shaking, on the verge of tears. Akutagawa stood as if to shield her, and the well-built boy glared at him murderously. He seemed to be yelling at Akutagawa fiercely. Akutagawa’s brow was knit with distress as he watched the other boy. Every once in a while, his tightly shut lips would move slightly.

“It looks like it’s gonna get violent,” Takeda breathed, and at that same moment, the other boy threw a fist into Akutagawa’s stomach.

Akutagawa doubled over and staggered on his feet.

Both of Sarashina’s hands flew to her mouth, and she let out a frail scream.

Takeda and I both sucked in a breath, as well.

The boy threw a string of punches into Akutagawa’s stomach and launched a kick at his chest. Though he staggered, Akutagawa held his ground and stayed on his feet. Sarashina tried to run forward, but he reached out a hand to stop her. He was punched again, but still he stood.

Should I get a teacher?
But I was frozen, my legs turned to jelly. I couldn’t tear my eyes from Akutagawa.

Sarashina clung to Akutagawa’s back. He gently pushed her away, then slowly fell to his knees on the grass and bowed his head.

In the dark flames of the evening sun, he pressed his head to the ground and groveled. He looked like Christ being crucified when he did that.

A young man dressed in a black school uniform, rising out of the fading light. One who took suffering into his own body. A martyr.

My palms were sweating, and the inside of my mouth was dry.

My head throbbed with the knowledge that I had glimpsed something I shouldn’t have.

The other boy’s face twisted with frustration. He gave Akuta
gawa’s shoulder a vicious kick, then yelled something at him and left.

Sarashina crumpled to her knees, buried her face in Akutagawa’s back, and wept.

The sun set, and Akutagawa kept his forehead pressed against the ground, not moving, until faint, cool shadows hid them both.

We could only hold our breath and watch the scene play out like a painful fantasy.

I received your letter.

As soon as I started reading it, I felt as if my heart was being torn open, and I grew dizzy.

You didn’t grasp my reasons for distancing myself from you at all. The paper was wholly devoted to you calling me a coward and a liar, to you ordering me to carry out your one-sided desires, to curses on the past, to threats against me, and nothing else.

You’re going to slit your wrists, you’re going to jump out a window, you’re going to drink poison—I want you to realize that writing these things down without giving it a second thought is foolishness that only diminishes your value.

I thought you had more pride than that.

I tried to understand that behind your apparent strength, you were possessed of a glasslike fragility, and that fragility hurts and consumes you. And that you are a prisoner of the
past and pray for vengeance. I’ve watched your pain and suffering, your despair, your battles, and your tears all this time.

I wish with all my heart for your happiness. That’s why I want you to know that dishonorable, malicious acts will tear your heart to shreds. Since your happiness will be my atonement, I mean to help you and will do so eagerly, as long as your desires are the right ones.

But I am not your slave.

I will not blanch at your threats and come running.

You are too dismissive of the man I am. You think I have no anger, no pain, no laments.

If I was to reveal what I desire most at this moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop trembling. Of course, I’ll refrain from writing it here.

My endurance is reaching its limit. I can’t stand it any longer. I feel myself going crazy. Although I brought this on myself, matters beyond my control keep cropping up, and I keep passing sleepless nights.

Ever since the incident, I’ve believed I needed to be an honorable person. But now I’ve started to wonder who or what I have to be honorable for.

My father?

My mother?

My friends?

The past?

The future?

You?

When I saw Akutagawa the next morning in class, he looked tired. I didn’t immediately call out to him, but he looked up and smiled.

“Morning, Inoue.”

His face was tranquil. My heart clenched as I awkwardly returned his greeting. “Morning, Akutagawa.”

The day before, Takeda had said coolly, “We should leave it alone. I’m going to pretend like I didn’t see anything.”

That was probably the way to do it. You shouldn’t stick your nose into other people’s business, especially if you’re not even friends. I should just treat him like I always did.

But each time I looked at Akutagawa’s face, I was forced to remember what happened the day before. Even if we talked about it, I wouldn’t be comfortable.

On the other hand, Kotobuki looked like she was still angry, and as soon as she saw me, she turned abruptly away and went over to Mori and the rest of her friends. That, too, was a vise on my heart.

Fifth period today was homeroom, and we made preparations for the comic book café we were doing for the culture fair. Everyone was making signs to hang out front or billboards of anime drawings to display inside or shelves to put the books in.

I was in the group making shelves and was cutting up cardboard with a box cutter.

Akutagawa painted billboards.

Several girls approached him, apparently to ask him to help with something. Akutagawa nodded and left his billboard, then went over to the standing signboard and pulled out a bent nail on the back support of the board before hammering in a new one.

“Thanks, Akutagawa.”

The girls thanked him exuberantly. Akutagawa said something to them with a placid expression and went back to his billboard. The girls looked over at him and chattered enthusiastically.

“Man, Akutagawa’s as popular as ever,” I heard a boy working behind me say.

“But he doesn’t want a girlfriend,” said another.

“Wasn’t there a rumor that he was dating a girl in his class in first year? You know, that pretty one. Sarashina.”

The instant they mentioned Sarashina’s name, my focus slipped and I lost my grip. It was right as I pulled the blade down on a piece of cardboard I was holding, and with the force behind the blade, I cut open the back of my left hand.

“Ow!”

“Ack, what’re you doing, Inoue?!”

“Your hand’s covered in blood!”

My classmates flocked around me in surprise. The blood flowing from the back of my hand fell onto the cardboard, staining it, and a girl screamed.

I was just about to tell them I was fine when someone pressed a gray handkerchief over the back of my hand. Then he took hold of my arm and pulled me up.

It was Akutagawa.

“I’ll take him to the nurse,” he told the class monitor, then whispered, “You okay?”

I nodded. “Y-yeah.”

“Press down on it firmly.”

He took my right hand and made me cover my left hand with it; then he put an arm around me and walked me out.

When we left the room, I saw Kotobuki standing perfectly still, her face ashen.

The nurse seemed to be out—there was no one in the office.

Akutagawa had me sit on a bed. He sat down in a chair, then cleaned my wound with a cotton pad soaked with disinfectant.

“Sorry… I can’t believe I cut myself with a box cutter in high school.”

After disinfecting the wound, he put some gauze on my hand
and wrapped it in medical tape. While he was securing it, he murmured, “Was there something on your mind?”

I couldn’t tell him that I’d been thinking about him, so I said nothing. Akutagawa kept his face down and asked in a low voice, “You have something you want to ask me?”

I felt as if he had clamped his hand down on my heart.

His big, warm, strong hand kept a firm grasp on my left hand.

“You’ve looked like there was something you wanted to ask me all morning.”

Had it been that obvious? My ears burned like the third-rate actor that I was.

I took a halting breath and tasted the bitter, medicinal air of the nurse’s office. I opened my stubbornly unmoving mouth, and in a quiet voice I said, “Yesterday, I saw you getting beat up by a student I didn’t recognize. And Sarashina was with you.”

Akutagawa’s hands paused as he laid the tape on my hand. A pained breath escaped his dry lips.

“Oh… you saw that.”

“I’m sorry. I was going to pretend I hadn’t seen anything. And actually, I knew about Sarashina before, too. She’s… your girlfriend, right?”

I saw Akutagawa’s face darken. He hung his head and a shadow passed over his eyes as the wrinkles between his eyebrows deepened, and I felt a chill.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“You said that before, too. But then why would she talk to me as if you two were still going out? Who was that beating you up yesterday? Why was he the only one throwing punches? You even had to grovel to him.”

Once I’d opened my mouth, I couldn’t stop. Akutagawa murmured in a rasping voice that seemed to stick in his throat, “It’s… all my fault. It makes sense that he’d beat me up for what I did.
I’m a contemptible person… to Sarashina… and to Igarashi… Of course they’d hate me.”

I couldn’t stand to see Akutagawa blame himself like this. It was too painful.

As I struggled over whether I should stick my nose in or stay out of it, I couldn’t completely stop the awkward words that followed.

“Truly contemptible people don’t call themselves that. Maybe you just try too hard. You’re upstanding and serious and honorable and considerate, but it must wear you out to be like that all the time. Can’t you just let go and relax every once in a while?”

Akutagawa lifted his eyes, and I started.

He glared at me, sparks flashing deep in his eyes. The usual serenity on his face was gone; it was now tense and colored with a violent rage.

“I’m not the upstanding guy you think I am!”

His voice was like a howl echoing through the room. He gripped my freshly bandaged hand with such strength I was sure it would shatter. A sharp pain stabbed through my brain. I almost screamed.

Akutagawa shouted, “You think I’m serious and honorable and considerate?! You’re wrong! I’m none of those things! You don’t know
anything
!”

Grinding my hand with his merciless strength, he brought his face close to mine. His gaze with its naked displeasure; his pained, explosive breathing; his trembling blue lips all told of his murderous rage and insanity. My entire body prickled with cold goose bumps, and terror bolted down my spine.

“For a long time, I’ve messed up other people’s lives. Like Omiya, I put on a front and act honorable, but I’m still an awful, contemptible person, and I betray the people who trust me!”

I was afraid; my hand hurt so much. I couldn’t budge, a hostage to his raging emotions. The things he said cascaded into my heart like a black torrent.

“I can’t ever let down my guard—I have to keep strict control over myself forever. But I can’t fight back the impulses. I bet you have no idea what I’m thinking right now. Do you, Inoue? How I feel? What I wish I could actually do? The terrible things I think about? You don’t know! What a tainted person I am… Inoue, you—you couldn’t even begin to understand it!”

Gritting his teeth fiercely, he glared at me, violence glinting in his eyes.

Who was this person?

He wasn’t the Akutagawa I knew.

All of a sudden, Akutagawa released his grip on my hand and his face grew pained and morose.

“… I’m going to hurt you, Inoue,” he said in a rough voice, then stood up. “You should forget this ever happened. Don’t get close to me.

“Sorry,” he murmured painfully, then left the nurse’s office.

Left by myself, I hugged my arms around myself and shuddered as a frigid feeling climbed up my legs.

Only the wound on my left hand—which he had gripped so hard—burned like fire. A red stain spread slowly through the gauze.

“You don’t know… Inoue… You couldn’t even begin to understand it.”

The words he had hurled at me stabbed my heart. As my throat tightened and a searing pain burned my skin, the memories sealed in the depths of my mind returned to vivid life.

Her lighthearted voice calling me,
Konoha—Konoha.
Her sweet eyes peeking up at me teasingly. Her bobbing ponytail.

“Konoha, I don’t think you would ever understand.”

Miu murmured, turning around in front of the railing on the roof and smiling sadly; then she tumbled backward.

I remembered the scene vividly. Miu’s face overshadowed Akutagawa’s, and I sat staring into space.

The stabbing chill wouldn’t stop, and the core of my mind ached with implacable terror.

No—

Leave him alone.

If you get any closer to Akutagawa—

Several times a day, a beastlike anger wells up from the depths of my heart.