The Cat Who Saved Books(24)

“I’m exhausted from all these morning practice sessions. But I have to tell you, I’m not in the habit of falling asleep at other people’s houses.”

Sayo’s voice was livelier than ever, probably to cover up the fact that she was blushing. She continued hastily.

“Thanks, Natsuki. Looks like I was a bit of a pain.”

“A pain?”

“You had to carry me back, right? From that strange place . . .”

Rintaro looked away for a moment, then shook his head rather deliberately.

“You must have had some weird dream.”

“Hey!” Sayo’s expression turned fierce. “Don’t even think of pretending it was all a dream. That’s not going to work, because I remember the whole thing. The talking cat, the passageway through the bookshelves, that crazy research facility. Shall I go on?”

“No, that’s enough,” said Rintaro, waving both hands to cut her off. “It’s fine. I got it.”

“Okay then.” Sayo laughed.

In the back of her mind that mysterious scene kept resurfacing. Those people in the white coats rushing around, that endless staircase down into the ground, the booming sound of the Ninth Symphony, and the bizarre conversation. But then somewhere in the middle of that conversation, it all became fuzzy. As if she were sinking down into a deep, dark ocean. But she recalled how somewhere in the midst of it her classmate’s warm hand had taken hers and pulled her back. How could that strong, reliable grip have belonged to this quiet, unassuming boy?

“What happened to the kitty-cat?”

Rintaro shook his head.

“I didn’t see it on the way back. Just like the last time—it disappeared without saying goodbye.”

“So does that mean it’s possible we might meet it again?”

“You look pleased about it,” Rintaro said, looking a little perplexed. “I was hoping not to get you mixed up in any more of these crazy happenings.”

“I’m already plenty mixed up in it,” Sayo quipped.

She got to her feet and stretched. Outside the door the light was fresh and vivid. According to the clock on the wall, hardly any time had passed since she had walked into the shop that morning. She’d apparently only just arrived. Everything seemed so normal that it was easy to believe it had been no more than a dream. Squinting a little in the bright sunlight, Sayo changed the subject.

“How’s the moving prep going, Natsuki?”

“I haven’t even started.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Probably not,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t think I’ve accepted it yet.”

“What do you mean? ‘Accepted’?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe I just don’t want to leave this place . . . I think about it all the time, but I’m really having a hard time coming to terms with everything. Though I know I don’t have time to be acting like this.”

Sayo wanted to tell him that thinking wasn’t going to help anything, but instead, she simply watched him. She felt strangely awkward. Rintaro was being vague as usual, but this time, what he was expressing felt like something besides mere indecision. He genuinely seemed to be trying to express all the mixed emotions pent up inside him. Sayo’s eyes widened slightly as if she’d suddenly had an epiphany. Behind this boy’s passiveness and unreliability, she’d just glimpsed something—someone totally earnest, honest to a fault.

Sayo’s thoughts were interrupted by the carefree laughter of a group of high school girls passing by the shop. She turned to Rintaro and perked her own voice up to match theirs.

“How about you give me some book recommendations!”

Rintaro looked a little worried.

“Sure, but the kind of books I like are kind of heavy.”

“Fine by me. It’s not like I’m going to go looking for a synopsis after all that’s happened.”

Rintaro laughed.

“Glad to hear it.”

He looked up at the shelves, his right hand on his glasses. Sayo was semishocked at how much his motionless profile reminded her of an old scholarly professor, filled with experience and good sense.

“Which one should we . . .”

Rintaro’s habitual hesitance seemed to vanish—it was now replaced by a confidence and energy that Sayo had never seen before. She squinted, watching his profile illuminated by the light from the door.





The Third Labyrinth

The Seller of Books

Okay. That’s the end of today’s lesson. See you tomorrow.”

At the sound of the teacher’s voice, all the students simultaneously pushed their chairs back and got noisily to their feet.

“Ugh, it’s finally over.”

“I’m starving.”

“Do you have club today?”

The classroom was filled with a cacophony of voices. Sayo Yuzuki also stood up, neatly packing her textbook, notebook, and pencil into her bag. She glanced in the direction of the window and clocked the one empty seat amid all the ruckus.

“Absent again . . .”

It was, of course, the seat belonging to Rintaro Natsuki.

His not being there didn’t make any difference to the atmosphere in the classroom; he wasn’t one to cast much of a shadow. Nobody was particularly bothered by his absence. And until a few days ago, Sayo had been the same as everyone else.