Book Girl and the Scribe Who Faced God, Part 2 Read online

  “Alt-Heidelberg is a play written by the German author Wilhelm Meyer-Förster. It was published in 1901. It’s a famous story that tells of the joy and sorrow of youth through the meeting of Crown Prince Karl Heinz of the kingdom of Karlsberg—though he’s formally called Heinrich—and a girl at his boardinghouse named Kathie. It has a sweet taste, like biting into candied violets… a melancholy taste… a bitter taste…

  “As the heir to his uncle the grand duke after his parents died young, Karl Heinz had had a strictly regulated life enforced on him ever since childhood. He winds up studying abroad in Heidelberg, the city of students, and his heart thrills to the life of freedom of a college student.

  “Kathie is a girl who works at his boardinghouse. She gives Karl Heinz a bouquet of flowers to welcome him and recites a poem. The two of them quickly fall in love.”

  Her slender fingers had stopped above the page, not moving. Whenever she talked about a story, she was so excitable and happy, and yet now her downcast eyes were sorrowful and moist.

  “His first love… his first days of freedom… He made a lot of friends, too, and experienced days that he would never trade for any price—of such happiness as he had never before known.

  “Yes… like the fragrance of violets that spreads through your mouth the moment your teeth break the brittle candy shell.

  “But it didn’t go on very long… The grand duke’s illness worsens and Karl Heinz must cut short his studies and return to his country.

  “Two years go by and he’s become grand duke. Overcome by nostalgia, he returns to Heidelberg, but it’s no longer the Heidelberg he knew.”

  Tohko’s voice was hoarse. At the same time, her fingertips slid hesitantly over the page and stopped at its edge.

  She couldn’t possibly be in the mood to eat—!

  She was being so careless! She would never usually dare such a risk.

  I heard a riiip of paper.

  A white scrap between her fingers, she slowly brought it to her lips.

  If she ate it, it would be gone! She would forget!

  Unable to bear the pain crushing my chest, I stretched out a hand.

  I stuck my hand between Tohko’s lips and fingers and squeezed her hand to stop it there.

  It was impulsive and startled Tohko, too, and she abruptly shut her mouth. She bit down hard on the soft part at the base of my fingers.

  “—Rkk!”

  “Konoha!”

  Tohko pulled back quickly.

  She set the book in her lap, clasped my hand, and rubbed the reddening bite marks with her fingers.

  “Why did you stick your hand out all of a sudden? Oh no, you can see tooth marks. That must have hurt…”

  The thought occurred to me that this was the second time she’d bitten me hard enough to leave tooth marks, and in an angry tone I told her, “Because you were going to eat the book.”

  Maybe she sensed something in the emotions packed into my voice. Tohko looked up at me with sad eyes. I glowered back at her even more fiercely.

  “Why are you eating it?”

  “Well, it won’t keep forever. If it gets too old, I won’t be able to eat it anymore. And you bought it for me.”

  She spoke to me in a tone like an older sister lecturing her unreasonable little brother, and through irritation that seemed to scrape at my chest, I got indignant and grabbed the book off Tohko’s lap.

  “E-even so—you’re not supposed to eat in trains. I don’t care how much of a glutton you are, you should know better. What if someone saw you?”

  Tohko drooped dramatically. “… I’m sorry.”

  My throat burned painfully. I felt desolate and antsy, and I didn’t understand myself very well anymore.

  What did I want to do? What did I want to say?

  I turned my eyes away and glowered sulkily at the bite marks Tohko had left on my hand. Then suddenly, Tohko put a finger to the furrow in my brow.

  She peeked into my surprised face and whispered, “That’s an awful wrinkle.”

  “Wh—!”

  “Is what Kathie says as she strokes the face of Karl Heinz, who’s grown tired of his role as grand duke and come back to Heidelberg.”

  Her braids swung and the scent of violets tickled my nose.

  A warm smile came over Tohko’s face and she softly stroked my forehead.

  “Come on, give me a smile again.”

  Her gentle fingers slipped from my forehead to my cheek. She touched me gently, as if to cheer me up.

  “Once more the way you did before. Smile, Karl Heinz. Come on, smile for me.”

  Tohko’s eyes were reflected in mine. Her pure gaze, like a violet—

  My cheeks grew hot, as if a fire raged within them, and at the same time my chest filled with melancholy, and then I, too, opened Alt-Heidelberg and began to read Karl Heinz’s lines.

  “Kathie, everything was how it used to be—the Main, and the Neckar, even Heidelberg. Only the people had changed. There’s no one here who’s the way they used to be.”

  I was sure when I thought back to this later, I would be embarrassed to death and roll around on the floor in my room.

  But that was a hundred times better than watching Tohko eat the book I’d gotten her down to the last page right in front of me.

  A look of surprise came over Tohko’s face; then her eyes immediately grew sad.

  “You’re the only one, Kathie. The only one still the way they used to be is you.”

  Tohko smiled in silence.

  It was a smile so pretty that it squeezed my throat tight.

  My voice caught naturally.

  “—You’re the only one—”

  My heart clogged up and I could no longer speak. Tohko gave me a bright, teasing smile, and then she stood up smoothly and shifted to my side. She wrapped both hands around my arm and pulled me toward her, then read Kathie’s next line.

  “Go on then—I still remember the day you departed—we had decided to go to a forest in the Odenwald together.”

  I nodded, following the stage directions.

  Tohko’s eyes gleamed even more teasingly.

  “And then we would ride in a carriage to Neckargemünd—and after that would be Paris. Remember?”

  The stage direction said, “She smiles,” and Tohko followed along, crinkling her eyes.

  At the next direction, she even pressed her face to my chest.

  I felt Tohko’s weight directly above my heart, and my head spun at the fragrance of violets wafting from her hair. You’re taking this too far, Tohko! Why do you have your eyes closed so serenely?!

  Unable to follow suit, my breathing weak, I read my lines.

  “Outside there was a spring storm that night. Everyone was asleep.”

  Tohko raised her face and gazed at me, enraptured.

  “You held me tight, I remember.”

  When I saw the next direction, I jolted to a stop, brutally shaken up. Argh! This scene was no good!

  There, I saw written, “(He catches her up and kisses her passionately.)”

  Tohko had become Kathie completely. She was leaning against me and looking straight up at me with a syrupy gaze.

  My brain was boiling, I descended into breathing problems and an irregular pulse, and I closed the book and set it on the seat.

  “I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

  Tohko pulled away from me and bobbed over to the seat opposite. She picked the book up as she went and giggled.

  “You were a wonderful prince, Konoha.”

  I groaned, my shoulders slumping completely. Tohko was watching me in amusement.

  Then she rested her back against the seat and closed her eyes contentedly.

  “Thank you. That filled me up.”

  Her face was serene, as if she’d just had a joyous dream.

  She hugged Alt-Heidelberg to her chest and kept her eyes closed the rest of the time.

  Had she fallen asleep? Or was she pretending to be asleep?

  I gazed at the
flowerlike smile on her lips with aching, melancholy feelings.

  Thinking about what might have happened if I had followed the stage directions and caught her up and kissed her…

  We transferred to the bullet train, and by the time we arrived at Tokyo Station, it was nearly eleven o’clock at night.

  We left the station and walked for a bit; then Tohko stopped and said, “Thank you for coming today. We can split up here.”

  “It’s late. I’ll take you home.”

  “No, I’ll go home by myself. Let me do that.”

  The words were uttered with a smile, but they were a clear refusal.

  A cutting pain ran through my chest.

  It confirmed my belief that Tohko really was trying to distance herself from me, and the world went dark.

  Even though she’d been so close to me a little while ago! Even though she’d smiled the same way she used to! Even though she’d leaned against my chest and closed her eyes in contentment!

  “Good-bye.”

  She turned her slender shoulders and began to walk off. I shouted out to stop her.

  “Tohko! What do you want me to do?!”

  My spirit was a mess, my throat burned, and I couldn’t breathe well. I didn’t know what I should do.

  Tohko turned around.

  She looked me in the face and, troubled—sadly—she wrinkled her brow.

  There was a pungent spasm in the back of my throat, the depths of my heart rocked, and as I approached tears, I begged, “I don’t want to write a novel! I don’t want to become an author! And I can’t write the story like manna that your mother would have written! But—but… if I wrote, would you stay forever? You wouldn’t go anywhere?”

  The wind rustled her long braids. Tohko’s eyes crinkled, her heart seeming to wrench as she listened to what I said.

  If Tohko were to tell me right now that she wanted me to write, if that’s what she wanted, if that’s what would change her future—if I didn’t have to lose Tohko—

  I—

  I would—!

  Tohko was the one who stopped the words that threatened to explode from my mouth.

  “It’s fine.”

  When her limpid whisper fell on my ears, I couldn’t believe it.

  Like Alissa telling Jerome she was leaving, Tohko was looking at me with a transparent gaze and smiling kindly.

  “I wanted to read my mother’s stories again. I wanted to fill my empty stomach with them. I thought that everything would change then and go in a better direction. I thought maybe you’d be able to do it.”

  A subtle shadow fell over her eyes.

  “But that was a selfish desire…”

  Her voice wavered sadly. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth again almost immediately.

  “So it’s fine. I’m sorry for lying to you up till now.”

  She clenched her hands into fists against her legs and bowed her head deeply.

  I was frozen in place, still on my feet.

  All I could do was bug out my eyes and gape.

  When Tohko raised her face, she said, “Good-bye,” with a gentle expression, and then left.

  Her delicate body melted into the darkness.

  “It’s fine.”

  Those cruel words echoed in my ears long, long after.

  Alissa talked about it in her diary, remember?

  That the path God pointed to was narrow and could never be walked with another—

  I’m sorry, Kana. I never actually had the right to wish for your happiness.

  Because I was the one blocking your way to happiness after all.

  When Tohko was born, I was finally liberated from suffering.

  And Fumiharu would embrace me when I embraced Tohko, and say, “I’m sorry,” and treat me kindly.

  My world turned back to light and hope, and I was content, as if I were dreaming on the near side of a broad gate.

  I had Tohko and I had Fumiharu. Peaceful, warm, average, and obvious.

  But you won’t come over to me!

  All you do is stare frigidly when Tohko eats the stories I write, just like Alissa would never go anywhere, even though she knew, “There are countries like that.”

  Can’t you hear me calling anymore, Kana?

  Won’t you read the things I write anymore, Kana?

  If you would walk to meet me—I would give you anything I had, if you told me that’s what you wanted.

  I don’t know how long I stood there.

  The sense of loss was stronger even than the cold of the wind striking my cheek.

  My mind fuzzy, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and checked my alerts.

  While I was on my way to Iwate, I’d gotten a text from Akutagawa saying that he’d met up with Kotobuki without any problems. I’d sent a text to Kotobuki’s phone then, too, to apologize, but I still hadn’t gotten an answer. She was probably ticked off. It was understandable.

  The only text I’d gotten was from my mom, which I’d answered, telling her that we couldn’t come back for lunch after all. She’d seemed worried and asked, Did you have a fight with your girlfriend? and told me, Don’t let it get you down!

  When I pulled up Akutagawa’s number and called him, I heard a girl’s voice.

  “Konoha?”

  The fog that had settled over my mind was blown away instantly.

  “Miu?!”

  Why was Miu on Akutagawa’s phone?! And at this hour? Visiting hours at the hospital should’ve been over a long time ago.

  Miu responded to my stupor with a taunting voice.

  “I heard you blew off your date and ran after Amano. What an awful thing to do. Your girlfriend was crying like crazy. She was saying she hates you and how she’s going to break up with you.”

  “N-nuh-uh! I didn’t say that!”

  Suddenly another voice broke in. Kotobuki?

  “What? But I thought you were swearing up and down that you were done with an unreliable guy like that and that you never wanted to see his face again?”

  “No, I didn’t! That’s a lie! Don’t believe her, Inoue.”

  What was happening? I could hear Miu’s voice alternating with Kotobuki’s voice. I stared into space, unable to grasp the situation, when I heard Miu’s voice saying unhappily, “Hey! Kazushi! Give that back!” Then came Akutagawa’s voice.

  “… Sorry, but it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to have a casual talk on the phone,” he said, sounding disgusted. “So why don’t you come over? Kotobuki and Asakura are both here, too.”

  When I went through a magnificent, Japanese-style gate and walked up to the front door, Akutagawa met me with a vaguely haggard look on his face.

  “Did you manage to find Amano?”

  “… Yeah, it was nothing major.”

  “Oh. That’s good.”

  “Sorry to put you to all this trouble.”

  “I don’t mind that, but…”

  Akutagawa frowned. Still standing at the front door, I asked in a low voice, “Why are Miu and Kotobuki here?”

  “Actually… I had plans to go out with Asakura today.”

  “What?! Really… I’m sorry! I didn’t know—”

  Apparently after he got my call, he’d called up Miu to say he wanted to cancel their plans. As it turned out, Miu threw a fit and he wound up having to explain the situation and Miu had proclaimed that she was going along.

  When Akutagawa told her he didn’t have time to pick her up—“Okay, I’ll head over and wait with Kotobuki. Girls need to be together at a time like this. You’re not going to be able to tell her anything that’ll help anyway.”—she’d decided unilaterally and he hadn’t been able to refuse.

  “And actually, Kotobuki was incredibly depressed, so it was a good thing that Asakura was there.”

  They’d moved to Akutagawa’s house after that, and the two girls had gotten into it with each other, just as they’d done when they answered the phone.

  “It got late, so they both decided to stay here tonig
ht. My dad is gone for work and both my sisters understand. We got permission from the hospital and my sister called Kotobuki’s family, so there’s no problem.”

  Akutagawa’s face was tinged with fatigue.

  “Er, I… I’m really sorry for causing all this trouble.”

  As I began my apology, a voice sounded from the top of the stairs.

  “What’re you doing, Kazushi? Konoha’s here, isn’t he? Bring him up here already!”

  Urk.

  “Go on then! Tell him what you wanted to say! Reasonable girls go to the bottom of the priority list. Then they wind up switched out for another girl. Not that I care if that does happen to you, of course.”

  “I-I haven’t been switched out!”

  “That’s true. Even if that’s what’s going to happen soon, for now at least you’re his girlfriend. Though it doesn’t look like you’re getting the girlfriend treatment at all.”

  The second I set foot in Akutagawa’s room, Miu started nudging Kotobuki toward me.

  Kotobuki was struggling against her and turned her gaze on me with a troubled, angry-looking face.

  “I’m sorry, Kotobuki.”

  I apologized meekly and Kotobuki’s voice choked off.

  “You’re not seriously going to let him off the hook with just that, are you? If you act that indulgent, no question he’s going to do it again. You’ve been getting played for a fool from the start.”

  “Th-that’s not what happened!”

  “Wow. Konoha never once broke a promise to me, you know. Not even to go play with his friends. He put me first and turned them down.”

  “Urk… is—is that true, Inoue?”

  “Umm, well…”

  “Not to mention weighing another woman against his girlfriend and then deciding to ditch his girlfriend. That’s out of the question. If he did that to me, I’d never speak to him again.”

  “Inoue had his reasons, Asakura. He was really worried about Kotobuki. To the point that he sent me to her. That’s proof that he cares about her.”

  Akutagawa took up the battle for me.

  “I really am sorry. Ryuto called me up, sobbing that Tohko was in trouble, so… it threw me off…”

  “You get tricked by Sakurai so often, I dunno if you’re innocent or if you just don’t learn. That’s called being stupid.”