The Cat Who Saved Books(44)

He looked up. The woman was still sitting there, motionless. Rintaro continued, looking at the eyes that never seemed to focus on any particular spot.

“My grandpa always used to say that books have tremendous power. I don’t know how things were two thousand years ago, but these days I’m surrounded by fascinating books. I live with them every day. So—”

“Pity.”

All of a sudden a cold wind picked up. It was faint, but it had enough strength to cut off Rintaro’s speech. His feverish tones were immediately chilled to subzero temperature. The woman’s next words struck a final blow.

“You’ve disappointed me.”

Rintaro shivered. He was staring into a dark void. It was a peculiar kind of darkness that lurked behind the woman’s eyes. Perhaps it was sorrow, perhaps despair. Whatever it was, it was a bleak emotion, an abyss that swallowed up everything. It was a force that left a mere high school student like Rintaro utterly defenseless.

“Thoughts alone can’t change the world.”

Her tone was resigned. She had given up.

“I’ve heard plenty of juvenile idealism, tons of lukewarm optimism. Over and over through the years. I’m tired of it. Because nothing ever changes.”

As she spoke, the woman’s voice gradually became lower and deeper, and there was a shift in the air. Her eyes stared vacantly, and the lightly crossed legs and hands that rested on them were pale and bloodless. She was like a waxwork figure—fixed to the sofa with nothing moving but her lips. Although she had the form of one, what sat before Rintaro was no longer even a woman. She had turned into a giant crouching being, filled with a dark emotion that had no outlet.

“I’ve seen all kinds of temporary fixes, stopgap measures. Easy compromises that do nothing but defer the problem. There have been silly debates between smug, self-satisfied people. From time to time the dangers facing books were brought up, but there was nothing we could do to slow the currents. We ended up being swept away. Just like those three people you met who changed their philosophy on life, and ended up losing their place in this world.”

She exhaled, and with it the oppressive presence seemed ever so slightly to shrink. Rintaro finally remembered to breathe. Sweat had begun to bead on his forehead.

“When I first heard the rumors about a book-loving boy running around rescuing books, I thought perhaps he would have some words of wisdom for us. Not that I believed it would change anything, but I thought perhaps he could give us a hint of how we might regain that power that we’ve lost.”

She turned her hollow eyes back on Rintaro.

“But it seems I’ve overestimated you.”

Her white hand fluttered slightly.

“You should go back to where you came from.”

She waved her hand and something banged behind Rintaro. The wooden door of the shop had opened. Time to embark on his return journey. But Rintaro couldn’t even raise his head, let alone get up from his stool. He stayed pinned to the spot.

“We’re done here.”

The woman’s voice was frigid.

She got to her feet and, as if she’d lost interest in Rintaro completely, turned and headed toward the back of the shop. Rintaro raised his head slightly to see the back wall melt away and a passageway open up. This time there were no bookshelves, overhead lamps, nothing—just a dark, endless corridor. The only sound was the dull clacking of the woman’s shoes as she slowly faded into the distance.

“I can go home . . .”

Rintaro’s mind roamed as if in search of something.

As he watched the woman walk away, he wondered why he was hesitating. His best arguments had been dismissed, his best ideas ridiculed, and his pride literally blown away by a chill wind, but at least nothing had happened to actually hurt him. He was free to slink away, shoulders slumped, and go back to his humdrum existence. He could forget about what happened in those mysterious labyrinths of books. There was only so much a high school kid could do after all. He wasn’t a superhero—he was just some moody, gloomy bookworm who happened to make his way to Wonderland. Although this time he could take credit for navigating his way through a series of complicated discussions, he was and always would be a hopeless shut-in, a hikikomori.

With a slightly smug look on his face and an ingrained acceptance of his fate, he had always suppressed what was there in his mind and his heart. That was how he had always lived his life, and he’d been doing just fine, thank you.

And wasn’t that good enough?

But then—

“No, that’s not good enough,” he muttered to himself.

Somewhere in the depths of his mind there was a glimmer of something bright. The main reason he was here—it was as if he had managed to haul a sinking treasure chest back to the surface of the ocean.

Sayo!

His head shot up, and he shuddered in horror. The sound of retreating footsteps was fading quickly. He jumped up.

“Wait! Please.”

He yelled it with all his strength, but his voice was swallowed up by the long dark corridor. The sound of the woman’s footsteps continued farther into the distance.

“Where’s Sayo? Please give her back!”

His voice echoed hopelessly. There was no reply besides the ever-fainter footsteps.

Rintaro turned and looked at the latticed door behind him. It was wide open as if to say, “Look, here’s the way out! Go through me and everything will be back to normal. Ordinary, depressing, constricted, but at least there’s no need to work up your courage. You don’t even need self-respect.”