Chapter 185

I wanted her to tell me it wasn’t true, that I’d made a mistake. Tohko had been at my side whenever suffering had debilitated me. She had clasped my hand in her own gentle grip, had embraced my spirit and helped me to stand. My mother had said that we owed Tohko a lot. And she was right; without Tohko I never would have made it this far. However broken I was, however dark and unknown the path, even if I felt that I was isolated and alone, Tohko smiled the same as ever and she at least would reach her hand out to me. No matter who got tired of me, no matter who cast me off, no matter who forgot me, Tohko would always be on my side. At some point, that conviction had put down deep roots in my heart. Because Tohko had always helped me out. The person I thought I could trust more than any other, the person I thought would absolutely never betray me—she was speaking aloud of her betrayal, right to my face. Saying the things I least wanted to hear in all the world—“write a novel,” “be Miu Inoue again,” “be an author.” Telling me that she had guided me to this point for that very reason. “You knew about Miu Inoue’s first draft because Mr. Sasaki showed it to you, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me?! Because you were keeping your guard up against me?! Were you tricking me?!” I didn’t want to say these things. But I couldn’t stop myself. It seemed as if Tohko was growing smaller and frailer. Her lips pressed shut and she looked up at me in agony under the moon and lamplight. All the strength went out of her grip, and her hands fell away from my arm. I grabbed her shoulders—they felt so thin they might shatter—and as I shook her, my heart continued to scream at her. The words were all but a prayer. Please! Make some excuse! Deny what I said! Tell me it wasn’t a betrayal! I didn’t think that the love and kindness that Tohko had shown me up till now had all been faked. She had been like a mother or an older sister to me. She couldn’t have worried about me or helped me like that purely for a lie! There must have been something real there. Explain yourself! Make me understand! But Tohko didn’t say anything. No matter how I berated her, no matter how I grilled her, she kept her jaw clenched, knit her brows tightly, and looked at me, as if to withstand the pain closing in on her. It felt like an admission to my suspicions. The world went dark. My throat stung as if it were tearing itself apart. “I… will never write a novel.” Then, with a sense of despair that could have torn my heart to shreds, I looked down upon the fierce disappointment, the pain, the scream that found no voice, which appeared instantly in Tohko’s eyes, that she wore on her face. Terror, pain, sadness entirely cloaked in inky darkness and crumbling away. My voice croaked; neither insults nor pleas would come anymore. I wouldn’t write! I would never write! Novels would always take so much from me. I was tired of losing things. What was so wrong about wanting to live my life as Konoha Inoue?! With a look of utter, bone-deep exhaustion on her face, Tohko released her grip on my arm. In the darkness where the cold wind blew, Tohko murmured, her voice catching, her eyes hollow, as if she were speaking the words of a final prayer, as yet undaunted, to a merciless god. “… Even so… even so… you have to write.” Her unraveled braid fell feather-like over her shoulder. She turned around listlessly, keeping her head bowed, pushed aside the gate, and left. I stood rooted in place and listened to the faint creak of the gate, watching the slender figure disappear into the darkness. Then, once I’d completely lost sight of her, the strength went out of my knees, and I huddled down in front of the door and bowed my head. My mother peppered me with questions, asking me, “Who was that? What happened?” but all I could say was “It wasn’t important.” Seeing how very pale I’d become, my mother pressed her lips together worriedly. I turned out the lights in my room and lay down, but I didn’t have a chance of falling asleep. Pain pulsed through my chest like a searing flame, my throat felt like it was going to pull itself apart, and Tohko’s voice played on an endless refrain in my ears. “You have to write.” “You have to.” “Have to write.” “You need to.” Just stop! I don’t want to write! I don’t want to! I dug my fingers into the sheets and ground my teeth together. Just then, my cell phone rang with an incoming call. The solemn, dignified tune reminded me of a hymn as it echoed through the dark room. I’d forgotten to silence my phone. I sat up and grabbed the phone off my desk, then looked at the caller. It was Ryuto! I held my breath and pushed the call button. “… Hello.” “Tohko is depressed, y’know.” I heard his low, muffled voice on the other end of the flimsy phone, and my heart clenched. “She’s locked in her room… lookin’ sick—I even offered her a book, and she just said, ‘No thanks.’ ” There wasn’t a trace of Ryuto’s usual cheerfulness in his voice; it was dark and harsh enough to make my skin prickle. “I’m pretty sure I can guess what went down.” “Tohko said—” She lied to me! She told me to write! I was just about to let my emotions take control and tell him everything when a voice beat against my ear as heavy as lead. “You runnin’ away?” My mouth dried out instantly. “You’re the one who let her dream. You wrote her those stories and let her read ’em and made her get her hopes up—and now you’re gonna say no more writin’ and back out?” The cold night air rolled over my skin, quickly stealing the heat from my body. What… what was he saying? “You gonna just… forget all about it? Treat it like a memory, and let yourself be the only one who’s happy with your beautiful girlfriend? Juliette got shredded and went crazy. Jerome took poison. And Alissa went through the narrow gate alone!” His voice was getting progressively sharper and more violent. “What are you talking about? Alissa or Juliette or whatever—what does that mean?!” “Of course, you don’t know a thing, do ya, Konoha? She shielded you and coddled you that way. And yet you’re gonna betray her? You’re gonna shut Tohko out before she even exists? I’m not gonna let you do that!” Before she even exists? Did he mean Tohko doesn’t?! I didn’t understand. My heart was pounding wildly, and my hand was sweating against the cell phone. Ryuto spoke once again, his voice deep enough to furrow the earth. “Up till now, I’ve been readin’ the story of Tohko Amano and Konoha Inoue. But from now on, I’m gonna be the writer and I’m gonna make the story. Miu Inoue needs to write. Otherwise Tohko Amano’s gonna disappear.” The call ended with an abrupt click. When I came to my senses, my throat was sticky and dry and my entire body was soaked in sweat. My pajamas clung to my skin. “Tohko Amano’s gonna disappear.” Ryuto’s voice echoed unpleasantly in my mind. “Tohko Amano’s gonna disappear.” Please, Kana? Could you stop looking so annoyed whenever Tohko calls you “Aunt Kanako”? You stared at Tohko once when she was eating, and when she held out a piece of paper and asked, “Do you want some, too, Aunt Kanako?” you scowled and turned away. From Tohko or little Ryu’s perspective, you and I are grand old dames. It’s bizarre how much you let it bother you when she calls you “aunt.” And I think it’s childish of you to make Ryu call you “Kanako.” After Tohko started elementary school, she became much more obsessed about food. She would devour the stories I wrote her every single day. “I want more, Mommy. What happened to the brother and sister squirrels next? Please, Mommy, write it, write it!” She would pester me with her sparkling eyes, so I was in a tough position. No matter how much I wrote her, it was always “more, more.” But I do think she’s having a hard time with lunchtime at school. She still comes home crying. “Everybody was saying how good the stew was and how good the pudding was. But I couldn’t taste anything. When I said that, they told me I was weird and they laughed at me. “Why am I different from them? Doesn’t everybody eat books? If I eat stew or pudding, am I not gonna know if it tastes good? “I don’t want to eat the school lunch anymore. But if I don’t eat it, I have to eat by myself after the very end of cleanup after school. Otherwise the teacher scolds me. “The boys tease me about eating lunch alone all the time. “And if I act very brave like Bastian in The Neverending Story and tell them that actually books taste waaay better, they call me a goblin for eating books. “Am I a goblin, Mommy? I hate the boys because they tease me. I hate lunchtime, too. I don’t want to go to school!” She hunched up into a ball at the front door and let her tears fall. And so I held Tohko in my arms and stroked her head and gently told her this: “You were such a good girl to stick it out and eat your lunch. You aren’t a goblin. You’re an ordinary little girl. You’re just a book girl who loves books so much she devours them.”