The Cat Who Saved Books(12)

“I do,” he said firmly.

“Me, too.”

The man’s voice was softer; the steely edge was gone. He sounded almost spiritual.

Suddenly Rintaro heard a curious sound that reminded him of the gentle whispering of a breeze. He looked around to see that the whole room had begun to transform. All the giant display cases—once the man in white’s pride and joy—were beginning to collapse like sandcastles. One by one, the books soared into the air, like birds taking flight.

“I really do love books, you know.”

And with that, the man carefully closed the book he’d been reading, tucked it under his arm, and stood up. As he did so, the nearest display case crumbled into dust, its books now a flock of migrating birds. Rintaro watched in awe as the whole room filled with flapping books. The man in white looked at him.

“You’re an impressive young man.”

“I’m not really—”

The man held up a hand to cut him off, then glanced to the side.

“It turns out you invited in the most troublesome guests,” he said, with a smile.

Rintaro realized he was addressing the woman in the kimono, who had materialized out of nowhere. She looked different. Back when she’d met them at the gate, she’d had no expression, almost as if she were wearing a mask. Now there was a smile on her face.

“You don’t need any help getting home. You’ll find your way,” said the man.

His voice rang out over the flapping of the winged books.

As the last of the bookcases turned to dust, a pale, bluish light began to fill the room, reflecting off the pages of the migrating books and turning the air into a whirl of whiteness.

The man looked at his wristwatch.

“Well, you certainly took up a lot of my time. But I must confess it was the most enjoyable I’ve ever spent. I’m very grateful to you.”

The woman handed him a white hat, which he placed on his head, and he turned to leave.

“Au revoir,” he said.

The woman beside him had just started to lower her head in a bow when a sudden flash turned everything blinding white.

*

At 7:00 a.m. the following day, Rintaro was in the kitchen. He finished his breakfast and opened the door to the bookshop. He went in, turning on the lights, raising the window blinds, and letting some air into the space. The cold breeze that poured in blew away the old, stagnant air. Rintaro swept off the stone steps that led to the door, then switched his broom for a feather duster and set to work dusting off the bookshelves.

This routine was one his grandfather had performed every morning. It was the same scene he’d observed every morning before going to school, but today was the first time he’d ever performed the routine himself. He’d picked up and read so many of the books in there, but he’d never once helped with the cleaning.

What on earth are you doing? said a voice inside his head.

But then a different voice laughed.

It’s fine, it replied.

Both voices were Rintaro’s own, and it was true that he had no idea what he was doing. He let out a sigh, and his breath was white in the bright but chilly morning air.

He stared gloomily at the bookshelves, wondering why he’d started dusting them at all. Further back in his mind lingered the memory of yesterday’s strange adventure.

“That was excellent work, Mr. Proprietor.”

The rich voice came from a tabby cat with a fine coat of fur.

Rintaro pulled a face as he watched the cat stroll toward him through the bookshop’s narrow space, its jade green eyes creased into a smile.

“What’s up?” it asked him.

“I’m not used to being praised for anything,” Rintaro replied.

“It’s good to be humble. But there’s such a thing as taking it too far.”

The cat continued toward him.

“Your words managed to move somebody. That’s a fact. And you succeeded in releasing a huge number of imprisoned books, at the same time making it back home yourself. Without your words, we would never have been able to return and would have ended up wandering that freaky house for eternity.”

The thought was terrifying, but the cat spoke in its usual nonchalant way. Rintaro spotted the hint of a smile in its eyes.

“Excellent work. We’ve managed to make it through the first labyrinth.”

“You’re welcome . . . Huh?” Rintaro broke off and stared at the cat. “What do you mean, ‘first labyrinth’?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Rintaro was standing in the center of Natsuki Books. The tabby cat slipped between his legs and headed toward the back wall once again.

“Wait a minute! You say don’t worry about it, but— Hey, you!”

“I told you my name is Tiger the Tabby. Try to remember.”

The cat smiled over its shoulder.

“It really was outstanding work.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

Rintaro had no sooner uttered these words than the extra passageway at the back of the bookshop dissolved into a white light and he found himself standing alone before the wooden wall. It was a whole day since the adventure, but somehow, he still felt as if he were dreaming.

Outstanding work, huh?

He could still hear the tabby’s voice in his ears.