Book Girl and the Corrupted Angel Page 3

  Years ago, a blue rose was used to mean something unusual or something impossible, but now that people have succeeded in making blue roses by altering the genes, I heard that the flower’s meaning had changed as well to mean miracle or God’s blessing.

  But in the pictures I’d seen of the flowers on the Internet, the rose was purplish and didn’t look like an innocent blue at all…

  So, maybe a blue rose still means something unusual after all.

  To myself, I whispered the line that Christine says to Raoul.

  “Our love is too tragic for this world. Let us away into the sky…Perhaps there even our love may be easily realized!”

  I only hope that Nanase’s love goes well.

  How could I make up with Kotobuki?

  After class the next day, I walked down the hall stewing.

  Kotobuki still seemed to be bothered by what happened yesterday, and she’d avoided me even in class.

  Mori had come over to worriedly ask if Kotobuki and I had had a fight, but I couldn’t really answer. Mori seemed frustrated, too, and she said, “Well, Nanase shuts down when she gets stressed out. I dunno what happened, but don’t take it personally, okay?”

  Suddenly I felt something poking into the back of my neck and I jumped up.

  “Argh!”

  I turned and saw a petite girl with fluffy hair hugging a dandelion-colored binder to her chest and grinning up at me. It was Takeda, the first-year.

  “Hellooo, Konoha. Heh-heh-heh…I heard about Nanase.”

  “Takeda!…Wh-what do you mean? What did you hear?”

  “I heard you’re going on dates behind closed doors with Nanase in the music room. Not bad! Or did you choke up already?”

  She prodded me in the ribs with her elbow.

  “Cut it out, Takeda. Everybody’s staring. They’re not dates. We’re just helping Mr. Mariya, the music teacher. He’s always there, and anyway what do you mean ‘choke up’?”

  Just then, the cell phone in my shirt pocket rang with an incoming message.

  I apologized, then checked the new message. My heart skipped.

  What the—? A text from Kotobuki?!

  I hurried to read it.

  This is Nanase.

  I think it looked like I was ignoring you today. Sorry. (-_-);;

  Actually, I…(>_<)

  Could you come to the library today? (^_-)

  There’s something I really need to talk to you about. (*^_^*)

  Wh-what was this?!

  As I descended into panic, the smiles dancing and flashing in my brain, Takeda pointed a finger at me and said, “Ah! You’re choking.”

  What was going on with Kotobuki?

  Even though she’d started talking to me, I cut Takeda off and went to the library in a state of agitation. Kotobuki was working at the counter.

  “I…Inoue—”

  She looked horribly surprised, her eyes widening in panic. When I saw her face, I was so rattled it was as if my heart had taken over my entire body, and blood rushed into my head with frightening speed.

  “Wh-what is it? You returning a book?” she asked.

  “Well…I got your text about how there was something you wanted to talk about.”

  “Huh? From who?”

  “What? From you. You asked if I could come to the library.”

  “What?!” she shrieked suddenly. She immediately clapped both hands over her mouth and said in a whisper, “I…didn’t send any texts like that.”

  “But it came from your e-mail address a few minutes ago…”

  I was confused, too. What was going on?

  “No way. You must be wrong. Why would I send you—”

  Kotobuki got indignant and glowered at me, when suddenly Mori and the others flocked over to the counter.

  “Oh! Inoue’s here! What luck!”

  “Hey, great, Nanase! Wasn’t there something important you wanted to tell him?”

  “Let us handle the desk, and you can go talk over there. Go on!”

  Kotobuki’s eyes turned suddenly sharp.

  “Mori, were you the one who sent Inoue a text on my phone?”

  The frigid tone of her voice put Mori at a loss for words.

  “Uh, well…”

  “A couple minutes ago, you said you forgot your phone and asked to borrow mine.”

  “I—I’m sorry! You haven’t been able to talk to Inoue, so…”

  Kotobuki’s cheeks flared, and her fierce cry cut through the air.

  “Don’t do stupid stuff like that! I hate Inoue!”

  The words stabbed into my ears, and my brain felt like it was burning.

  Everyone around the counter fell silent, and Kotobuki looked at me with blank eyes. Then her face suddenly crumbled. Looking as if she was about to burst into tears, she bit down firmly on her lower lip, then rushed from the counter and ran out of the library without another word.

  “Nanase! Wait!”

  Mori and the others hurried after her. I wondered what to do, whether I should go, too. But—

  Just then, I heard a low voice beside me.

  “You’re…awful.”

  I turned to look over in surprise and saw a boy wearing glasses, glaring at me with cold, piercing eyes.

  I gasped.

  Wasn’t he the student I’d seen outside the music room?

  And that voice! It was like the voice I’d heard yesterday at the stairs!

  I stiffened. He kept his eyes fixed irritably on me, gave a disgusted scoff, and went behind the counter. Then he turned his cold face down and began the work of a library aide.

  I still didn’t understand how I had attracted his animosity, and I watched him with a chill.

  A last-minute job came up.

  When I meet a new customer, I’m always a little afraid. Because they might grab my hair and punch me until my face swells up and leave me barefoot in a pitch-dark field.

  Because the three-faced guy might smile unpleasantly and say, “Paying three times the fee ought to cover it.”

  I wondered if this was what it felt like to have your skin flayed off and your limbs shredded and eaten while you’re still alive. If I screamed, my throat would be crushed. So I gritted my teeth, pressed my lips together, and simply cried, but far from losing interest, I was beaten even harder. To them, I was a nameless, inhuman pig. No, I knew other people thought the same…

  I had a text and voice mail from Nanase. She was in total disarray about Inoue and it sounded like she was going to cry any second. Apparently her friends from class had said something. She said she wanted to see me.

  I want to fly to her side right this second and listen to her troubles until dawn if I have to. I want to stroke her hair and comfort her.

  I can’t stand it when Nanase cries. I feel a physical pain, and it knocks the breath out of me.

  But it’s impossible right now. If I don’t go out, I’ll be late.

  I texted Nanase that I would call her later.

  I have to send him a text, too.

  I’m not good for him. Whenever I’m with him, the filth that clings to my body corrupts his purity and nobility. Each time his clean fingers gently touch me, despair wells up in me that I’m unworthy of being loved and I want to die.

  I don’t want to sully his name. I don’t want to demean him. I can’t do that! Ever!

  I care for him more than I can say. I believe that for his sake I could go on bearing things even more painful than death, and so some day, I’ll have to leave him.

  My love is too tragic for this world. Unless I can away into the sky, I’ll never be clean.

  But I’m sorry. Let me stay with you a little longer—just a little bit longer. Let me touch your hand. Just until the recital is over.

  I really won’t be in time now.

  I’ll see you later, Nanase.

  Chapter 2–The Diva’s Whereabouts

  The next morning, I left home earlier than usual.

  Even after I’d gotten home yesterday, the
only thing on my mind had been the image of Kotobuki’s face as she was on the verge of breaking into tears. It had stumped me. It had been a shock that Kotobuki seemed to be hurt worst—even more than me—and she’d said that she hated me in front of all those people. I almost felt like I’d forced her to say that…Even when I sat down at my desk to write Tohko’s snack, I brooded over it, and my pencil didn’t budge. The “butterfly,” “Mount Fear,” and “surfer” prompts—essence of fluffy, therapeutic vanilla soufflé that I had crafted through my grumbling—were a long way from fluffy, therapeuticness.

  There was still time before class started. I would rewrite the story in the clubroom.

  I felt the piercing cold of the air on my skin as I passed through the school’s front gate, where I spotted Kotobuki.

  Huh?

  Below the thick, bleak clouds, Kotobuki was moving toward the front stairs on unsteady, wobbly legs. There was something strange about the way she acted.

  My heart thrummed, and my steps grew naturally quicker as I went after her.

  Kotobuki stood in front of the shoe lockers, her eyes empty.

  In profile her face was pale and drained of energy.

  “Kotobuki.”

  When I said her name, she started and looked up. “…Inoue.”

  Her voice was a hoarse murmur, and tears started welling up in her strong-willed eyes.

  That caught me off guard.

  “Wh…what’s wrong? If you’re upset about what happened yesterday…”

  “…I’m not. It’s Yuka…”

  Yuka?

  The next instant, Kotobuki had covered her face with both hands and burst out sobbing.

  “Yuka’s disappeared! I don’t know what to do—I—I—”

  “C’mon, what’s wrong? What happened? Don’t cry, okay? Can you tell me about it?”

  I soothed Kotobuki as I held her hand and led her into the book club’s room, then made her sit on a fold-up chair. She was bawling like a child.

  Kotobuki curled up into a little quivering ball and soaked the sleeves of her coat and her uniform skirt with tears. She sobbed again and again until at last she told me what had happened.

  That a friend of hers who went to a different school, Yuka Mito, had disappeared.

  She said that after running out of the library yesterday, she’d gone to the Mitos’ house.

  But when she got there, a window was broken and the house was empty and there was no sign that anyone lived there anymore. Spooked, she asked a passing neighbor about it and was told that the Mitos had been unable to pay back a loan and had fled in the night two months ago.

  “…Hic. I’d been texting Yuka every day, and I called her, and we even went shopping together last month. She never said a word about moving. Hic…I can’t believe something like that would happen to Yuka’s family…I tried to call her a bunch of times last night, but it went to voice mail every time. She didn’t answer my text messages, either. Usually she answers right away! Where did she go?”

  Kotobuki was an utter shambles. Her face was a mess, and she sobbed through her sniffling. She looked small and frail, as if she would shatter if someone didn’t help her. Tears fell on her kneecaps peeking out from underneath her skirt.

  The bell had already rung, and it was no longer even homeroom—we were in the middle of first period now.

  Before, I never would have imagined that I would be skipping class to be alone with a girl.

  But I could hardly abandon Kotobuki when she was choking back her tears, without the faintest idea of what to do after the shock of her best friend’s disappearance.

  Maybe I felt it more deeply because of how she’d looked yesterday in the library.

  “Don’t cry, Kotobuki. We’ll look for Mito together. Why don’t we go to her school and ask people about her? I’ll help you, okay?”

  Kotobuki nodded imperceptibly and continued crying.

  After getting home, I turned on my computer and did a search.

  The high school Mito attended was a famous school that produced a great many professional musicians and was attached to the Shirafuji Music Academy. The classes were also structured around a focus on music, and there were a lot of students who studied abroad. The building featured on the school’s home page had a luxurious Western-style exterior; I’d seen it used in TV shows before.

  Mito had hoped to be a professional opera singer. An opera concert by the students was coming up at the school’s auditorium, and she had gotten the lead role. She’d been busy with rehearsals and her part-time job lately, so apparently she hardly picked up the phone and often talked through text messages.

  I clicked idly on the tab for enrollment and class fees, and my eyes bugged out. It was almost three times the amount as for a public school. It was double even compared to most private school fees! There were four people in the Mito family, and her father was an ordinary office worker. Apparently Mito had started her part-time job to earn money for school.

  “Studying music sure is expensive.”

  I remembered the spacious music hall at Seijoh Academy. It was pretty amazing since a building that extravagant had been built with the donations of orchestra alumni. It was beyond what most people could ever conceive of in their daily lives, even though the orchestra had a strong connection to the Himekura family that ran the school.

  As I deepened the search, my cell phone chimed with an incoming call.

  The person I’d been waiting for was calling. When I put the phone to my ear, a bright voice flared out.

  “Long time no see, Konoha. I’m shocked that you were the one who called me.”

  Ryuto Sakurai was the son of the family Tohko boarded with. This past summer, we had gotten to know each other after Tohko assaulted him with her schoolbag when he was starting trouble among some girls.

  Ryuto sounded like he was grinning on the other end of the phone.

  “Tohko said she didn’t get a snack. She was PO’d. ‘I was lookin’ forward to it, too! Konoha’s just awful! Awful! He’s got no respect for his elders!’ Her words.”

  Ryuto was mimicking Tohko’s voice.

  Great! I’d totally forgotten about the snack! I’d meant to rewrite the draft and drop it off in the mailbox, but it was still in my bag.

  “I’ve been a little caught up with stuff, so I haven’t had time.”

  “Oh, when she hears that, Tohko’s gonna pout till her face pops. She’ll say, ‘But Konoha’s snacks are my only pillar to face studying for exams! There’s no joy left in my life now. My exams will be a failure. It’s Konoha’s faaaault!’”

  “You’re just making that up.”

  “Ohhh no, that’s the cry of Tohko’s heart. I mean, you are her author, Konoha,” Ryuto said impudently.

  Tohko’s author.

  My cheeks flushed at the words, though he’d said that to me before. What I wrote was just scribbling, and if I was going to be anything in the future, it wasn’t an author.

  Swallowing my bitter thoughts, I told Ryuto about everything that had happened.

  “So, if you know anyone at the Shirafuji Music Academy high school, could you introduce me to them?”

  “I’m shocked. You don’t usually go to all that trouble.”

  “I…guess.”

  “’Cos I thought you were the type of guy who didn’t wanna get involved with people.”

  My cheeks burned again. Up till now I’d been undeniably hands-off. Something had definitely changed, just a little, after the culture fair when I’d become friends with Akutagawa.

  Ryuto’s voice was probing. “Might you by any chance have an interest in this Kotobuki girl?”

  I quickly replied, “It’s not like that. I just can’t abandon her to this situation, so my opinion of Kotobuki doesn’t really…”

  “Hey, forget it. You want a favor. I’ll help. I’ve got a contact at Shirafuji, so I’ll try to get in touch.”

  I knew he would. He three- and four-timed so nonchalantly, and his entire year was
just a slaughter.

  The number of girls Ryuto had pull with and his ability to mobilize them had surprised me before. If he didn’t know anybody, he made a sneak attack to chat them up and become friends. He was a person who did that sort of thing indifferently. Was he really younger than me?

  “Thanks. I knew I could rely on you, Ryuto.”

  Ryuto let my automatic praise wash over him.

  “However, I do have one condition.”

  He sounded a lot like Maki.

  “What’s that? I can help you with your homework if that’s what you want.”

  “Nah, I’ve got tons of girls who do that for me already. Nothing like that. Konoha, do you have any plans for Christmas Eve?”

  I was thrown off by his unexpected question.

  “Christmas Eve? No…”

  “Awesome! Can you keep it that way, then?”

  “Please don’t ask me to go to D—land with a boy on Christmas Eve and hold hands and watch the Electrical Parade.”

  “Ha-ha, that’d be great. Anyhow, just keep Christmas Eve open. Even if a girl with a way better chest than Tohko asks you out, you gotta shut her down.”

  “So you mean any girl over ten years old?”

  “Oh, wow, harsh, Konoha. Tohko’s super-self-conscious about that, and she does these exercises to make her breasts grow every day, so don’t tease her about it, please.”

  “What kind of exercises…make her breasts grow?”

  “Like, she puts her hands together in front of her chest then goes right, left, reeeal slooow. When I peek into her room, I see her doin’ ’em with a real serious look on her face.”

  Picturing it made me feel dizzy. Could it be yoga?

  “Anyhow, I’ll text you once I get hold of my contact for that Shirafuji thing. So can you remember Tohko’s snack? She’s seriously lookin’ forward to it. This is her little brother askin’,” he finished in a joking tone, then hung up. It was fifty minutes later when I got a message from him—just as I had finished up the improv story for Tohko’s snack.