The school bell is the most honest sound—I separate myself from those who have a place to go home, and those who only want to escape. A place that doesn't suit someone like me.
In this corridor, the sound of their laughter feels like a distortion that disturbs my brain's frequency. They talk about exams, weekend plans, or who likes whom. Petty problems that feel utterly mundane.
I tighten the straps of my bag. It feels heavier. Inside, there's a notebook with a slightly worn cover—the one I accidentally picked up from the train carriage this morning. A book that tells me the cheerful girl named Asami will stop breathing in the near future.
"Why should I care?" I ask my reflection in the corridor window.
I could have just left it. I could have pretended I never read it.
My feet carry me away from the school gate, not toward the station to go home, but toward the
west. Toward an old building with a sign that reads: City Library.
The place where, perhaps, I will return this book.
Regardless of my thoughts, I walk toward where that girl is. I wonder how she can face death with that smile, or maybe her brain's wiring has already begun to snap. She intentionally masks her wounds with that grin. As I approach the library, my questions about her wander everywhere—not because I care, but because a person like that is hard to predict. She is a presence that will disrupt my life from here on out.
I arrive at the library door. I open it slowly so as not to disturb the people reading; drawing attention is a problem for me. I smell old books. It's cool inside, perhaps because of the well-maintained air conditioning. I look around, searching for her. No one looks like that girl. I'm about to give up and try again tomorrow, but…
The sound of footsteps approaches from beside me.
"Mr. Honest-Kaisei-Student! You're here!" she shouts, drawing almost everyone's attention with her irritating voice.
"…I'm not. It seems I'm going home," I reply flatly.
She tilts her head in front of me. "Heh, didn't we make a promise? Mr. Honest-Kaisei-Student breaking his promise to a girl."
"…It's not like that," I answer.
She grabs my hand—I feel the coldness of her hand. She pulls me toward a table she has prepared. A book lies there—I didn't read the title, I only caught a glimpse.
"Come on, sit down! Don't just stand there, let's read together," she exclaims.
"…Fine," I say briefly.
I sit with a one-meter gap between us to avoid any trouble. I know that if I step further into this girl's life, it will be incredibly troublesome for someone like me.
"What kind of books do you usually read?"
"The kind you can't read."
"Ekh, I can read any book!" she says with a giggle.
"But, do you like romance?"
"…No. It only wastes unnecessary emotions," I say coldly.
"You're strange, but I like it."
"…Whatever." "You like me? Really? Aw, and here I was wanting to confess first," she chuckles.
"Why would you even think that?"
She is so strange, thinking I like her when I'm only answering honestly. It's not good to lie to someone who's about to die.
"How else? A boy coming just to accompany me while I read."
"I only cam—" She cuts me off, covering my mouth with a book. The tasteless sensation of paper is ridiculous.
"Wait a second, I want to go grab a book, okay?" she says, removing the book from my mouth.
She walks toward shelf number 10. Her body looks fragile. I can see the powerless footsteps of someone who, soon, will no longer be able to stand on her feet. I can't delay this anymore. She returns with a smile that momentarily obscures my vision.
"Look at this, The Moon Prince. This is just like you—stiff and cold," she says, showing the book to me.
I glance at it, indifferent to her words. The Moon Prince. A very childish book for her age. A poor soul, expressing herself through a story that is no longer relevant for someone who should be reading about how to get better.
"It says here, once there was a prince who wanted to go to the moon to find his star. But one day, the prince never found that star, and then—"
I stop listening. To a teenager like me, it sounds foolish. How could a human go to the moon without equipment?
"—and so, in the end, the star merged with the prince's soul."
I don't look into her eyes. I only stare at the table, observing the solid texture of the wood.
"Isn't it good?" she asks.
"Good."
"You weren't listening, were you?"
"I was."
"What was the story about?"
"A prince."
"And then what happened to him?"
"…Dango."
"Ekh! You really weren't listening! Hahaha!". She laughs joyfully. I see it—a laugh that hides fear.
She laughs loudly, hitting the table. Every eye turns toward her. I lower my head, hoping no one sees me with this strange girl.
"I'm sorry, I was too loud. My apologies." she says, bowing to the readers before sitting back down.
"…Book," I whisper.
"Book? You want me to read another one?"
"No… your book fell."
"You mean the—" I cut her off. I can't stay here much longer.
"Your book! It fell on the train. I didn't look at the contents." I say, a bit loudly, pulling the notebook out of my bag.
"Is that all? It's okay, hehe." she says, giggling again.
I fall silent. Is that all? She thinks she can defy fate and time. Perhaps I should have just thrown that book away instead of going this far.
We both fall silent for a moment. Our eyes don't meet, as if I have snatched away the records of her life. I don't care what she has to say. I stand up, ready to leave.
"Wait. Are you afraid?"
"…Afraid of what?" I don't look at her. I only stare at the library exit.
"You're afraid of seeing someone who's going to die, aren't you?" she says, her tone becoming a bit more serious.
"…Yes."
After my brief answer, she falls silent. I look back. Her eyes aren't on me; they are fixed on the library clock. I feel a biological surge in my heart—not pity for a dying person, just a typical human reaction.
I see her eyes are full of terror, and her fingers begin to grip the table. Then, she smiles and looks into my eyes.
"Could you stay and accompany me to read for a little longer?" she asks with a smile.
"…No."
"What if I force you, or follow you all the way home?"
"Heh… fine," I say with a sigh.
I sit back down, but this time she moves closer. I inhale the air filled with her scent. As a teenage boy, I feel cornered by this.
"Let's play a word-guessing game, shall we?" she invites.
"…No."
"You know how to play, right?"
"…No. And I never will."
"Alright, here's how we play: we'll use this book, okay? You have to close your eyes, and when I say stop, you stop. Okay?"
"…Fine," I say flatly.
If I refuse, she'll just be stubborn. It's a waste of breath to argue when I already know the outcome.
"We'll start with you, Mr. Honest-Kaisei-Student. Close your eyes and listen to my voice, okay?" she says, moving closer to me.
I close my eyes, feeling every breath that escapes from her. Of course, as a human, I feel this uncomfortable sensation, making my ears ring loudly. She holds my hand and guides it toward the book. I start moving my finger across the words until I hear…
"Stop… now open your eyes."
I open my eyes. I'm startled—not because of the word in the book, but because we are so close. I feel it as our shoulders brush against each other, making my blood rush through my body. I look back at the book. It says…
"Love! Yay! Finally, you have to answer a question from me about that,"she says, laughing joyfully.
"Okay, hmm… Mr. Honest-Kaisei-Student, who was the person you liked most this morning?"
A strange question. I already guessed what she would ask. She's too ambitious, even proudly using the phrase "this morning," reminding me of what happened earlier. In this situation, I have to be careful with the answer I choose. After thinking through every face I encountered, I answer…
"…The mother seeing her child off to school. I find that most unsettling."
"Ehm, besides parents, perhaps?" she asks, her eyes full of hope.
"…A group of students," I reply flatly.
"Why? Do you like boys?" She raises her eyebrows as if shocked by my answer.
"…Perhaps."
"Ehh, really? No, you can't! What about a girl like me?" She laughs softly, but there's a slightly different tone from her laughter earlier.
"…There is no one,"I answer flatly.
"Then why do you like them?"
"…Togetherness."
"Finally! Does that mean being together with me works too?"
"…Sorry, I'm not interested," I say. I no longer look at her. My gaze shifts to the book she's clutching to her chest, then back to the table.
"Alright, I give up, hehe," she says with a giggle.
"Now it's my turn. You have to guide me," she says, extending her hand to me.
"…Move your own hand."
"Aw, it feels like my hand is hard to move. I need your help, Mr. Honest-Kaisei-Student,"
she says, closing her eyes with a chuckle.
I stare at her outstretched hand—a palm that looks pale under the dim library lights. Her sentence just now made no sense. Biologically, her hand looks intact; there are no external wounds or nerve dislocations that would make it immobile.
"…Fine. It's just a game," I say, slowly touching her hand.
I feel the coldness and warmth of her hand. It's very soft. This might be the first time I've touched a girl other than my mother. I start moving her hand carefully. Slowly, I watch the words in the book. I really want her to point at the word "Honest." Trying a bit of trickery, I stop moving her hand and say…
"Stop."
She opens her eyes. Seeing the word she "chose," instead of being shocked, she gives me an incredibly beautiful smile for a split second.
"So, Mr. Honest-Kaisei-Student wants a personal question from me, huh?" she giggles.
"No. That's just part of the game."
"Okay. What do you want to ask 'Honestly' about?"
"…What is your wish?"
"Hmm… how about you accompany me wherever I want to go?"
"..."
"Or how about starting right now?"
"No," I answer flatly.
I release her hand and turn my gaze away. I pick up a book to distract myself.
"Hmm, you already know, don't you?" she says, her voice a bit weak.
"Know what?"
"Know that I'm going to die soon."
"No."
"See? By answering so briefly without thinking, it's a human reflection of trying to lie. And now, Mr. Honest-Kaisei-Student has lied," she says, her voice rising slightly.
"Fine. Yes, I read a little."
"And it was by accident," I add.
"Now that you've been honest, you have to help me fulfill my wishes," she says with a chuckle, pointing to the book she's holding.
The girl rests her chin on both hands, staring at me with a spark in her eyes that—for the first time—looks both incredibly sincere and cunning. In the sense that there is absolutely nothing I can do right now.