Chapter 197

“Inoue! You’re okay?” As soon as I went back up, Akutagawa came running over. “If one more minute went by and you still weren’t back, I was going to run after you.” “Akutagawa—what about class?” “I left. I said I was going to check on you.” It was all so messed up. The teacher must have been surprised. Kotobuki’s eyes were wide, too. With a bitter look, Akutagawa told us how he’d followed me here and how, when he tried to go downstairs, Takeda had stopped him with the words, “You should let the people involved talk. Have a seat over there, please.” Takeda turned a page in her book, pretending ignorance. “Thank you for telling me about Kotobuki, Takeda.” When I thanked her, she murmured distantly, her eyes still cold, “No problem…” Takeda didn’t ask about what had happened down there or what we’d talked to Ryuto about. A funny song played in the pocket of Takeda’s uniform. Still expressionless, she pulled out her cell phone and checked the screen. “It’s a text… from Ryu.” I flinched. “What does it say?” “It says, ‘You ratted to Konoha, didn’t you?’ ” Kotobuki watched Takeda nervously as she typed a reply with practiced movements. Even though she knew about her innocent underclassman’s other side, I suppose she still couldn’t help being uncomfortable. She gripped my arm fiercely. My voice hoarse, too, I asked, “What… did you tell him?” Takeda closed the book she’d just begun reading and stood up. The title on the cover was No Longer Human. “To do it somewhere else next time,” she answered coolly, then walked toward the room that led downstairs. “Takeda! Are you going to Ryuto?” “Yes. He’s pouting, so I’m going to see how he’s holding up.” Then she stopped partway there and turned around with the face of the nice, cheerful Chia Takeda. “I’ll see you guys! Later, Konoha, Nanase, Akutagawa!” The three of us just stood there for a while, struck dumb by the almost blatant transformation. Finally, Kotobuki broke the silence. “If—if we all go back to class together, it’ll look strange.” “Th-that’s true.” “Yeah, you’re right.” We spent a few minutes murmuring among ourselves. In the end, in order to stay consistent, we all went to the nurse’s office together. “Um, I felt a little anemic… I was putting away books in the library and I started to feel dizzy, and then I couldn’t move.” “My stomach feels funny. I couldn’t get out of the bathroom.” “I’m here to escort Inoue.” That’s what we told the nurse. Has writing made you happy, Kana? Fumiharu has always talked about how writing down a story is an act that brings you closer to God. He said that you had gone through the narrow gate and you were walking toward Him. That he was helping you to reach the pinnacle called God. That it was the greatest joy that an editor could have. But even though you had all that talent and were so pretty and smart and had so much that people wished they had, you didn’t look happy to me, Kana. Fumiharu would say that the thing you truly wanted was somewhere far away and he was sure you would never achieve it. He said that you were just like Alissa, who sought love in heaven, and that it was that solitude and internal conflict that elevated your writing to another level. Fumiharu would say these terrible things while cuddling with Tohko with a gentle look on his face, and I would get angry with him. “It’s not true that you can only write novels if you’re unhappy.” “You’re right. But hunger is important for creation. If Dazai had been content and satisfied, would he have written No Longer Human? Without the tragic love of Elise, would Dancing Girl have been born? Without the conflict with his father, would Naoya Shiga have been able to write A Dark Night’s Passing?” “So then Kana is never allowed to be happy?” As he swept aside Tohko’s bangs with his fingertips, Fumiharu answered quietly, “She can be happy as an author.” As if that was the only way.