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A few days after the incident at the residence, Munakata took Akari out for breaded pork cutlets at a restaurant in the city.
The cutlets were deep-fried in oil, and the juicy pork inside was lovingly coated with crispy brown bread crumbs.
“I apologize.”
Akari stared at Munakata, fork poised in midair. A man was apologizing to her? And not just any man, but a military man? And not just any military man, but Munakata…?
In this era of rampant male chauvinism, it was an absurdity for any man to apologize to a woman, no matter the transgression. And a military man even ranked above high-status positions like stationmaster and school headmaster in the societal pecking order. How could such a man be apologizing and lowering his head to Akari of all people, in a public place like this?
By her side, Tomohito snorted derisively.
“You should be apologizing! Not only did Mistress Akari risk her life, she also suffered terribly in the aftermath of it!”
“You’re right, Tomohito. After that traumatizing mission, I had to deal with your mother-hen clucking for what felt like hours.”
“What?!”
Akari took a delicate sip of water as she shot Tomohito a haughty look.
It was true, though. She’d had a rough time of it. After the Nue extermination, Akari had been so weak she’d been forced to let Tomohito carry her home. The following day, too, her whole body had ached so badly that she was barely able to get out of bed.
Tomohito had been delighted, and his fussing over her had somehow made her feel even more exhausted. In the end, she’d banned him from her room, a rule helpfully enforced by Mayoi.
Akari put her fork down and looked Munakata square in the eye. She still hated the man’s guts, of course. But a double helping of breaded pork cutlets made his apology a whole lot easier to swallow.
“It’s fine. You paid me as promised and even treated me to some excellent pork cutlets, so it’s fine. Really.”
Besides, once she got home, Mayoi would be serving something she called niku jaga, a meat-and-potato dish the navy had apparently brought back from foreign lands. Akari had even splurged and bought beef, just for the occasion.
She’d already said all that she wanted to say to Munakata. There was no benefit in holding a grudge, especially when he’d been so earnest in his apology. He had to realize that.
So then why the groveling? What was his angle? Akari had to admit it was refreshing, though. No man had ever apologized to her before, in all her years at the company.
“Then I’ll say no more. Only, Miss Mitsukuri… Out of curiosity, what did you do to that Amagai fellow?”
Munakata was back to his usual blunt self, but his expression right now was hard to read.
“What are you talking about?”
“Second Lieutenant Amagai is the son of a prominent Narrator family, and, well, he hates being assigned any duty that doesn’t directly involve narrating. I sent you with him because I hoped he’d feel the pressure to step up and be an example, but that doesn’t seem to have been the case at all.”
Akari pursed her lips. Of course they stuck her with the problem case. But never mind that. Why was Munakata staring at her as if she were some sort of rare animal?
“Yeah, what ended up happening with Amagai? Did he complain about my performance during the mission?”
In the aftermath of the Nue slaying, Amagai had taken charge of the cleanup and ordered Akari to return home.
What came about after that was a mystery to her. But Munakata was still wearing that unreadable expression. It looked to Akari like a mix of amusement and bewilderment.
“Second Lieutenant Amagai has suspended himself without pay as penance for his oversights during the mission. It is a crime to narrate from a stranger’s Kotogatari, no matter the circumstances or one’s rank. Additionally, he failed to neutralize the Nue threat. Usually, such failures would be grounds for instant demotion. But Amagai has been repentant and has taken disciplinary measures against himself, as I said.”
“What?”
Akari was truly shocked by this. Amagai had struck her as a very prideful man. He could have so easily passed all the blame onto Akari for her renegade actions, but he hadn’t. How odd.
Munakata leaned in closer, regarding Akari with what looked like ever deepening curiosity.
“He did say something interesting, though. He said you’d make a fine Narrator. In fact, he said he would never have come up with the idea of narrating the way you did—taking that Kotogami spirit into your own body, I mean. I’ve never heard the lieutenant say something so complimentary about another person before. It made my skin crawl.”
“He said…what?”
Ignoring Akari’s disbelief, Munakata continued speaking with visible fascination.
“Your aptitude surprised me too, in truth. I can scarcely believe you were able to actually read the cursive script Kansuke Mishima’s book was written in. I was honestly very surprised indeed.”
“Well, I have this acquaintance. Kind of an eccentric. We exchange letters, and they always write in various calligraphic styles. I learned that type of cursive from deciphering my friend’s letters, you know?”
The person in question had been something like a guardian to Akari, and after she’d gone out into the world all on her own, they’d continued to send her letters, keeping in touch out of concern for her. It was weird, though. The letters were written with all different styles of calligraphy, as if each were written by a different hand. A strange ability to have, especially nowadays when printed text was all the rage. But as a result, Akari could read pretty much any writing, no matter how illegibly written it might seem to others.
But Akari’s self-deprecating explanation only made Munakata scrunch up his face as if he were sucking on a sour plum.
Akari blinked at him. Was it something I said? But the next moment, he recomposed his features back into his usual bored with life face.
“Listen, hadn’t you better start considering doing the Narrator thing for real?”
Akari was speechless, eyes boggling in horror. What a thing to suggest so casually! She was literally only staying at the Bookhouse for the free perks and benefits. These rave reviews she was getting about her so-called aptitude were starting to give her the willies.
“Haha, very funny.”
“Those abilities of yours will make you an immediate asset as a Narrator. You’ve got grit, and you’re able to think clearly under pressure. Yes, you’ll need some training, but you can handle a bit of studying. And branch offices like that Bookhouse are meant for Narrators, you know, not homeless waifs and strays off the street. Why not make it your own?”
Munakata just kept on talking. Even worse, he looked completely serious. Akari stayed silent, wondering how she was going to get out of this. How many more times did she have to tell these people that she didn’t like books and didn’t want anything to do with them?
She was surprised by what Amagai had said, though. She’d thought he’d hated her. Also, Munakata’s praise had tickled her just a little. But no. Her mind was made up.
“Mistress Akari will not become a Narrator.”
Tomohito spoke in a firm but gentle voice just then, saving her the trouble.
Akari looked at him in astonishment. He was wearing his usual placid smile, but as she caught his eye, he tilted his head curiously.
“What is it, Mistress? Am I wrong?”
“No…no, you’re right.”
Tomohito had always seemed so desperate to keep Akari in the Bookhouse, so she was amazed that he appeared to respect her wishes all of a sudden. Still, there was no need to go digging into his motivations. Instead, she just shrugged.
Munakata watched the exchange between the two of them with a pensive frown. Then he, too, shrugged and changed the subject.
“Well, anyway. You should be more careful in the future. Spirits are still spirits, no matter how well we humans can mold them to our service. You got lucky this time. Perhaps that’s all there is to it.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll never do that again.”
Akari dismissed Munakata’s warning. Ouch. Her body was still sore.
And at any rate, Kansuke had already told her he’d never repeat her little spirit possession experiment. Apparently, her body had been “cumbersome and annoying to control.”
“Fine, then. Just enjoy reading normal-people books like the normal person you are.”
Munakata backed down with a sigh. But then his face grew serious again.
He could turn the military spirit on and off, it seemed.
“One last thing. When the Nue emerged from the Kotogatari, did you notice anything unusual?”
“I don’t know; I wasn’t there for that. But I did see the Kotogatari book itself… It was all frayed and falling apart.”
“Yes, the tome we retrieved is beyond repair. But the damage was caused by the Nue itself as it broke free from its pages.”
Tomohito raised his brows, as if instantly picking up on what Munakata was inferring.
“So you think the Nue appeared not because the book was old and failing, but because of some other reason?”
“Yes. I also heard there were other books there that day, ones that held accumulations of negative energies? Recently, such evil entities have been materializing and causing a lot of trouble. The Narrators are trying to get to the bottom of this phenomenon.”
“Is there something going on, then?”
Akari and Tomohito exchanged glances. Then Tomohito gasped a little, as if remembering something.