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Afternoon.
Sunlight cast shadows between the tall bookshelves of the Koudo Ikusei High School library.
The air was filled with the unique scent of old paper, ink, and wood. This was a temple of knowledge, and a rare haven from the bustling campus.
Shiina Hiyori walked alone among the towering forest of bookshelves.
She had rare, silver hair that flowed like moonlight, loosely tied into two knots at the back of her head, with a few strands falling beside her fair cheeks. Her clear violet eyes, at this moment, held a subtle focus as they scanned the densely packed spines on the shelves.
She wore the standard burgundy school uniform, her slender calves, wrapped in gray knee-high socks, showing beneath her skirt. Her footsteps were so light as to be almost silent, and her entire being exuded a soft, ethereal quality, as if she might blend into the serene atmosphere at any moment.
She was an avid fan of mystery novels.
On the second day of school, she eagerly came to the library, partly to familiarize herself with this potential haunt for the next three years, and partly to find a particular work—Raymond Chandler's "Farewell, My Lovely."
She loved this book very much and wanted to reread it in her new surroundings.
Her fingertips traced rows of book spines, her violet eyes quickly scanning titles.
Finally, on a higher shelf in the "European and American Mystery Novels" section, she spotted the familiar black cover and gilded title.
She stood on tiptoe, trying to stretch her arm as far as possible. However, the shelf was too high, and the book's position was a bit out of her reach.
Her fingertips were still a few centimeters short of the target spine.
She frowned delicately, attempting a gentle jump, but she dared not make too large a movement, fearing she would disturb the tranquility of the place.
Her toes, encased in gray knee-high socks, tensed, and her silver hair swayed slightly with her movements, like a clumsy yet earnest little animal trying to reach high-hanging berries.
After several attempts, it was still futile.
She sighed softly, a hint of imperceptible disappointment flashing in her violet eyes, and was about to give up and seek help from the librarian.
Just then, a figure, as if merging with the light and shadow, silently appeared beside the bookshelf next to her.
Shiina Hiyori paused slightly, instinctively turning her head.
It was a black-haired boy.
He had arrived at some point, and the gaze behind his black-rimmed glasses calmly swept over the bookshelf, then landed on "Farewell, My Lovely," the book Shiina Hiyori was trying to reach.
He wore a perfectly pressed burgundy school uniform, his posture tall and straight, strangely blending into the quiet atmosphere of the library.
Shiina Hiyori withdrew her hand, stood straight, and her violet eyes calmly looked at Sakamoto, without any expression of asking for help or embarrassment, only an almost transparent indifference.
She nodded slightly, a silent greeting, then prepared to turn and leave.
However, Sakamoto did not merely pass by as she had expected.
He turned slightly, his gaze fixed on the book on the high shelf, then performed an extremely fluid movement.
He didn't stand on tiptoe to reach it like an ordinary person, nor did he go for a nearby ladder. Instead, he extended his right hand, his long index and middle fingers precisely fitting into the tiny gap between the two wooden boards above the bookshelf, his movement as light as inserting a key into a keyhole.
Then, he lightly tapped his toe on the ground, his body rising effortlessly by an inch as if weightless, while his left hand shot out like lightning, his index and middle fingers precisely gripping the edge of the spine of "Farewell, My Lovely" like tweezers!
The entire process was fluid, swift as a flash of lightning, making not a single sound.
His movements were as elegant as performing a precise pantomime, or like carrying out some ancient, ritualistic act of retrieval.
By the time Shiina Hiyori reacted, Sakamoto had already landed steadily, holding the book she had just been unable to reach.
He did not immediately hand it to her, but instead, with the tip of a finger from his other hand, he very naturally brushed away any dust that might have accumulated on the top of the spine, his movements gentle and focused, as if he were handling a precious work of art.
After doing all this, he turned around and offered the book to Shiina Hiyori, his gaze behind the black-rimmed glasses calm and gentle:
"Student, is this the one?"
Shiina Hiyori's violet eyes widened for a moment.
She looked at the book Sakamoto offered, then looked up at his calm, unruffled face, and his incredible book-retrieval movement just now... This was by no means the precision and elegance an ordinary person could achieve.
She was silent for two seconds before extending both hands and carefully taking "Farewell, My Lovely."
Her fingertips touched the cool cover of the book, and she nodded softly, her voice as light and fleeting as a feather:
"...Thank you. This is it."
Sakamoto nodded slightly, saying nothing more, seemingly preparing to turn and leave.
"You..."
Shiina Hiyori, however, uncharacteristically spoke up. She held the book, her violet eyes raised, looking at Sakamoto,
"Do you also like mystery novels?"
The precision and calmness with which he took the book just now inexplicably reminded her of the meticulous and decisive detectives in mystery novels.
Sakamoto paused his steps slightly, turned around, his gaze falling on "Farewell, My Lovely" in her hand, and the corner of his mouth seemed to curve into an extremely faint smile:
"Raymond Chandler. One of the founders of hardboiled detective fiction. Philip Marlowe, adhering to his principles in a corrupt world. That stubbornness and sense of loneliness are very powerful."
Shiina Hiyori's fingers, holding the book, tightened slightly.
She hadn't expected him to not only know this book but also accurately evaluate its style and protagonist's characteristics.
The indifference in her purple eyes receded somewhat, replaced by a glimmer of what could be called "interest."
"You like Marlowe too?"
Her voice rose slightly, carrying a hint of imperceptible excitement.
"I admire his…stubbornness in sticking to his principles in a dirty world. Even if the ending is often not good."
"Principles are like lighthouses,"
Sakamoto's voice was steady and clear,
"guiding the way through the fog, even if you know you'll hit a reef. This stubbornness, perhaps, is its charm."
He paused, his gaze seeming to penetrate the pages of the book.
"Just like the ending of 'The Big Sleep,' Marlowe knew the truth would bring destruction, yet still chose to speak it. 'To say goodbye is to die a little.'"
Shiina Hiyori's heart rate quickened slightly.
He could casually quote Chandler's famous line! And understand it so deeply! She still maintained that light, indifferent demeanor on the surface, but a brighter and brighter light flickered in the depths of her purple eyes.
In this school, filled with various "elites" yet few who could truly understand the charm of mystery novels, she had for the first time met someone who seemed to resonate with her!
"Your insight into mystery novels…is very unique."
Shiina Hiyori said softly, her fingers unconsciously stroking the cover of the book she was holding.
"Not just the plot, but more attention to the core and characters."
"The story is the skeleton; the characters and philosophical thoughts are the soul."
Sakamoto responded calmly.
A brief silence flowed between the two, no longer awkward, but instead filled with a quiet sense of mutual understanding.
Shiina Hiyori hesitated for a moment, her purple eyes lifting to meet Sakamoto's, her voice still soft, but with a rare clarity:
"My name is Shiina Hiyori. Class 1-C."
She paused, then added,
"A mystery novel enthusiast."
Sakamoto nodded slightly, his posture elegant:
"I am Sakamoto. Class 1-A."
"Sakamoto-kun."
Shiina Hiyori repeated the name, a hint of understanding flashing in her purple eyes.
So it was him…that First Year Class 1-A student who had caused so many rumors on the first day of school. She had heard that name.
Her fingers, holding the book, tightened slightly. That longing for a "like-minded companion" finally outweighed her outward aloofness.
"Um…"
She lowered her head slightly, her silver hair falling to cover part of her cheek.
"If possible…could we…exchange contact information?"
Her voice grew softer and softer, almost inaudible, and a faint, imperceptible blush appeared on her earlobes.
"About novels…perhaps…we could discuss them?"
Sakamoto looked at her slightly reddened earlobes, his gaze behind the black-rimmed glasses remaining calm.
He didn't hesitate at all, smoothly taking out his phone from the inside pocket of his school uniform.
His fingertips tapped the screen a few times, quickly and precisely, then he very naturally turned the phone screen towards Shiina Hiyori—the screen showed a blank contact interface, with the cursor blinking in the "Name" field.
"Of course."
His voice was gentle and clear,
"I look forward to discussing the mysteries of the detective world with Shiina-san."
Shiina Hiyori was slightly startled, then quickly reacted.
She quickly took out her own phone—her fingertips rapidly typed her name and number on the screen, then handed it to Sakamoto.
Sakamoto took the phone, his fingertips tapping the screen a few times to enter his number into Shiina Hiyori's phone and save it. The entire process was smooth and natural, without any delay. He handed the phone back to Shiina Hiyori.
"This is my number."
Sakamoto lightly flashed his phone screen in front of Shiina Hiyori, letting her confirm the number was saved, then put it away.
Sakamoto nodded slightly, the corner of his mouth also seeming to curve into an extremely faint smile:
"You're welcome. I wish Shiina-san happy reading."
After saying that, he bowed slightly again, his movements smooth and natural, then turned and, with steady and silent steps, quickly disappeared into the deep shadows of the library's tall bookshelves.
Shiina Hiyori stood rooted to the spot, holding the recovered "Farewell, My Lovely," her fingertips unconsciously stroking the phone in her pocket.
The library's tranquility enveloped her once more, but this time, there seemed to be a different meaning within that tranquility.