“You hate books too?”
“I just don’t like made-up tales. It’s a visceral reaction. They give me the creeps. The shudders.”
At Akari’s all-girls school, young adult fiction books by women writers were all the rage. But Akari couldn’t stomach them and felt left out. When she had to write a book report, Akari was the outlier who wrote the report on her Anglish-language textbook. The teacher thought she was being facetious at first, but her translation was so good they ended up giving her a solid B for effort anyway.
She’d been kind of famous at the school for that little stunt. As she reflected on how comfortable it had been to have nothing to do with fiction after starting with the company, she realized Tomohito was gazing sadly at her.
“I see. So you really hate them that much.”
“Well, no matter how true to life you try to write, it’s not true to life, is it? It’s a story. Trying to pass something fake off as real. It’s warped. That’s how I see it.”
Yes, that was her issue. She especially hated folk tales for this reason.
For example, anyone could say: Once upon a time, this happened. But even the storyteller couldn’t know for sure if it did. It seemed so irresponsible to Akari. Nothing was ever black and white. But Akari had no problem letting those who liked stories enjoy them. Go ahead. She just couldn’t find any enjoyment in them herself.
Tomohito paused, digesting Akari’s bitter stance on storytelling. It looked as if he had something he wanted to say, but he thought better of it and returned to the topic at hand.
“Anyway, you asked why there are so many books here. They’re left over from previous Narrators, and also Munakata tends to dump books here when he can’t be bothered with— Ahem. When he needs temporary storage for them. Apparently, a Narrator is in need of many books from which to learn phraseology and terminology. But as this Bookhouse doesn’t have a dedicated library…”
“The entire design of this house is a joke.”
Was this place really designed for Narrators? Akari was starting to have her doubts. But Tomohito just smiled wryly.
“I did manage to take a look at the blueprints back in the early days, but they’ve since disappeared… Ah, I’ll put these down here.”
Disappeared, did they? thought Akari dryly as Tomihito set down the heavy stack of boxes he was holding without even a grunt. He was slim built and delicate looking, but he seemed to have physical strength surpassing that of any ordinary man. Thanks to his help, the carrying work was now done.
“It looks like it’s finally time to start cleaning.”
As Akari made to walk out of the room, the door closed in her face. She turned the handle, but the door was now locked.
Again? she thought, grimacing. Beside her, Tomohito bowed, his face a mix of anger and guilt.
“I’m so sorry—Mayoi is acting up again… I’ll have to kick every door in the house off its hinges, and then…”
“All that’s going to achieve is provoking Mayoi even more. Can you climb out of the window and open it from the outside?”
“Certainly, Mistress.”
Tomohito unlocked the window and climbed out, then unlocked the door from the outside a few moments later.
Apparently, he’d found furniture and boxes stacked up against the door.
Akari stepped out, looking over her shoulder to see a curtain of black hair whirling at the end of the corridor.
“Curse you, Mayoi!”
Tomohito noticed her too and charged after her. But he soon returned, shoulders slumping. She’d given him the slip somehow. Mayoi was playing childish pranks on them, like a poltergeist.
Clearly, she had free reign of the house and knew all the best ways to trap and trick them. Her repertoire consisted of locking doors on them and blocking their path with furniture, nothing dangerous, but she just wouldn’t stop. Akari felt herself getting frustrated.
Perhaps Akari having possession of Mayoi’s Kotogatari meant that Mayoi was prevented from doing her any actual harm. Kotogami were bound to obey whoever was in possession of their book and had spoken their name, after all.
Indeed, Mayoi was doing a stellar job of harassing Akari without even needing to lay a finger on her.
Countless times, Akari felt eyes on her and turned, only to see a flailing tendril of black hair or a lacy sleeve fluttering. Mayoi was watching her.
Undeterred, Akari and Tomohito took up brooms and cleaning rags, but it was impossible to move around with all the doors being locked before them. Their bucket of soapy water was kicked over. Their cleaning rags disappeared when their backs were turned and reappeared slung over light fixtures high above reach. Brooms were placed strategically so that they tripped over them. Akari was completely at the mercy of the small child spirit.
Just when the cleaning seemed to be done, Akari suddenly noticed that all the junk she’d painstakingly moved to the designated junk room was now neatly stacked up along the corridor. She flopped down on the floor in despair. Tomohito came running back from Akari’s room just then and fell to his knees before her.
“I am so terribly sorry! I’m afraid your room appears to be full of books…”
“I see. So she’s playing dirty, is she…?”
Mayoi must have been eavesdropping when Akari had mentioned hating books earlier. It had taken both Akari and Tomohito working together to move the books in the first place, but Mayoi had somehow managed to move them all by herself. She must have really wanted to get under Akari’s skin.
“I have to say, I’m feeling quite fed up with all this.”
“Here’s her Kotogatari. You could always assume control of her, before this gets any worse.”
“Could I?”
“Yes, such is the power of the Kotogatari. Our spirit tomes are a part of ourselves. If they’re damaged, we become weakened. And we can never disobey the one who possesses them.”
“But that seems kind of mean.”
Tomohito sounded extremely serious all of a sudden. Akari gently touched the bookbag she was wearing cross-body. Possessing this book was like possessing a living soul. What a heavy responsibility. No wonder she was hesitating.
“What is your decision, Mistress?”
Akari looked into Tomohito’s solemn eyes and sighed, then got to her feet.
She knew Tomohito was waiting for her order. But Akari felt zero inclination to do what he was suggesting. Mayoi’s interference was certainly hindering the cleaning process, but as long as she didn’t escalate things, Akari was willing to ignore her mischief.
“Before any of that, I’m going shopping. Will you accompany me, Tomohito?”
Tomohito’s eyes instantly widened. She must have said something surprising, but what?
“May I? I could stay behind and continue tidying if you need me to…?”
“I have a lot of things to buy. I can’t carry them all by myself. Having a man’s help would be good.”
“You need my help?!”
“That’s what I keep saying. Also, I don’t know any of the shops near here. I need you to guide me.”
As Akari untucked her kimono sleeves, Tomohito nodded his head vigorously, eyes sparkling. He was clearly delighted to be receiving orders from Akari.
He’s so weird, thought Akari, patting the dust from her kimono.
She looked around but couldn’t spot a hint of Mayoi’s long black hair. No doubt she was watching, though. Akari raised her voice a few decibels.
“Bye, Mayoi. We’re going shopping. Look after the house while we’re gone.”
Akari thought she could hear a tiny foot stamping the floorboards somewhere in the house.