“Could it be because you enjoy the time you spend thinking about how to write something?” Keiichi suggested.
“Huh? But I’m just despairing that whole time.”
“Yeah, but…” It felt like, maybe, she needed that time. “Okay then, if you were to stop writing, what would you want to do?”
Sayaka’s gaze dropped to the counter as she fell into thought, then after a moment she said, “I don’t know. There was a period of time where I stopped writing. Just as soon as I seriously thought that I didn’t care anymore, all of the words I had been holding on to just fell apart. Back then, I was desperate, trying to figure out how to get them back. I want to give it up when I do it, but when I lose it, it’s all I want to do. Futile, huh?”
She continued, her eyes swimming nervously, explaining that despite her return to writing, it felt different somehow. Maybe that was why she made her work into a book, so she could leave that judgment to someone else.
“Kajiwara-san, do you ever see an author’s bad points when you’re reading a book? Have you ever felt like they were hopeless?”
“I’m not really sure what sort of person would be hopeless. It’s the same, whatever I read. I don’t want to read a book and judge them on whether they’re good or bad. I honestly just want to hear the author out,” Keiichi answered.
Sayaka simply answered with “I see,” falling back into thought with an anxious look on her face. She might have been getting spooked by the idea of someone reading her writing.
“Does Miss ‘Sayokyoku’ want her writing to be read by tons of people?” It might have been a weird question to ask someone who had already made a book of her own works, but that was the only thing he wanted to know.
She sat up and faced him. She was silent for a while, then said, “I’m just desperate while I’m writing, and I made those books because I was convinced that I had to. But I’m sure I want them to be read,” she said slowly, as if she was talking more to herself than to Keiichi.
A bell rang at their feet. Sayaka let out a little screech, jumping out of her chair. She rushed over to Keiichi and grabbed him by the arm. “Th-the cat…!” She had her head turned away but was still looking down at her feet as if she was worried about Sumi coming any closer.
Sumi just looked up at Keiichi, sitting back down where she was. She was a scaredy-cat in the first place, so while she might have run away, she wouldn’t jump at anyone.
Noticing Keiichi’s stare, Sayaka gave him a stiff smile. When Sumi walked out from under the counter, she backed away, keeping some distance. It seemed she wasn’t good with cats. Why had she chosen Frère as the place she wanted to sell her books, knowing they had a store cat? He had tons of questions, but he figured he’d learn the answers eventually. They were both shelf owners, so they’d have other opportunities to chat.
“Ah, the rain stopped.” Sayaka pointed out the window. It had been raining so hard that they could hear it in the store, but they’d been so absorbed in their conversation that they’d forgotten.
“Well then, I’ll be taking this book home. I’m going to read it,” Keiichi declared.
When he did, Sayaka covered her mouth with both hands and teared up. She might have only made two copies, but it had taken courage to put it out there.
Keiichi took a single sip from his coffee cup before standing. Sumi followed him to the door and sat at his feet.
“I’ll be back again,” he told her.
Seemingly understanding what he’d said, she didn’t follow him outside.
Sayaka had gone back behind the counter and was writing something. Could it have been a continuation of those memos? If it was, he definitely wanted to read it.
“See you later.”
He gave her a nod, hand on the door, and she looked a little nervous before deeply bowing her head to him.
The rain had stopped, and it had gotten colder. Keiichi walked out onto Shinjuku Dori and headed toward Yotsuya. Just before the five-way junction’s crosswalk, he headed down one backstreet. When he found the sign, he looked up at the building. The protruding sign on the second story said “Authentic Bar @TEN.”
After climbing a narrow staircase where you might just barely be able to pass someone else, he pushed the door open. He then heard a familiar voice welcome him.
It was a small bar, with six seats at the counter and three tables. Uneta wore the same thing he’d worn at the City Hotel’s main bar: slicked-back hair, a black suit, and a bow tie. He’d had his work-smile on his face, but it stiffened once he recognized his new customer.
Urged to sit down, Keiichi sat near the middle of the counter. The back bar was lined with whiskey bottles. The shelf of reserved bottles had the drinks Uneta’s regulars enjoyed, but there was something off about it.
“I’ll take a gin and tonic.”
As he looked at the bottles, Keiichi ordered his first drink to learn the bar’s tastes. Uneta pulled a condensation-covered bottle of No. TEN out of the fridge. It was a dry gin characterized by its notes of flavorful citrus and delicate taste.
“You surprised me,” Uneta commented, slapping a smile back on his face. “I never thought you’d come here. Someone told me you were working as a bartender in a shot bar in Golden Gai. Busy there?”
“To a certain extent. But it’s a cushy job, since my friend owns it.”
“It’s a waste. Your skills would be treasured anywhere you went.”
Had he always been the type to give compliments like this?
“I like the environment I’m in now. I can read books openly there.”
“Now that you mention it, you were always reading before your shifts. What have you been reading lately?” Uneta went on to talk about one of his regulars being a booklover. He’d had a booklover regular back at City Hotel too, but he’d never asked Keiichi about it, so why now? The feeling that something was off got stronger.
Keiichi kept up the chat while he watched Uneta work. His movements were smooth, showing that his muscle memory knew exactly what to do. But having watched Uneta work for so long, he couldn’t help but notice the differences.