Chapter 1

Ask anyone about Kaichi Mikura from Yomunaga, and they’ll describe for you a book collector and nationally renowned literary critic. He was a prominent local man who lived his entire life in Yomunaga, from the moment he came into this world screaming and crying until his sudden passing on his veranda with a book in his hand. People called him a walking encyclopedia. “If you need to know something, ask Kaichi,” they’d say. “If you’re looking for a book, talk to Kaichi.” Or: “If something’s bothering you, Kaichi’s better than a doctor,” and so on. No one knew how many books his collection contained. The town of Yomunaga was shaped like a rounded rhombus. Located where a wide river forked north and south, the town sat in isolation like an island where the two branches diverged and then rejoined. And at the center of this rhombus stood Mikura Hall. By the time of Kaichi’s death, multiple renovations saw Mikura Hall grow into a massive library that stretched from its second-floor basement to two stories. Famous throughout town, it was said that every resident of Yomunaga—from toddlers to the most elderly citizens—had set foot inside at least once. Born in 1900, Kaichi had steadily built up his book collection since the 1920s until he passed away and left everything to his daughter, Tamaki Mikura, a superb collector in her own right who continued expanding the library. And where books reside, collectors flock, though not all collectors are honorable ones. One day, Tamaki realized that close to two hundred volumes had gone missing from Mikura Hall’s rare book collection. Books had been stolen from time to time before; Tamaki had once even threatened one of Kaichi’s friends, an antique bookseller, into staking out a used-book exchange, then yelled at the people trying to resell some stolen books for a hefty sum and brought the culprit to the police. In her fury at discovering that nearly two hundred rare books had vanished from the collection, Tamaki decided to close Mikura Hall to the public. Neighbors watched as, over the course of a day, a major security company installed alarms in every nook and cranny of the building under Tamaki’s scrupulous gaze. From then on, no one save for members of the Mikura family could enter the library or borrow a book. Even famous researchers and Kaichi’s close friends were resolutely turned away. Mikura Hall was closed. As a result, people never again heard Tamaki fly into a rage whenever she realized a book had been stolen. Although it was a shame that no one would ever peruse the stacks at Mikura Hall again, things were finally peaceful. Yomunaga had earned a reputation as the Town of Books; finding things to read there was not a difficult endeavor. The townspeople enjoyed the respite from Tamaki’s temper. However, once Tamaki breathed her last, a bizarre rumor began to slowly spread. It claimed that she hadn’t resorted to simple mundane alarms to protect the books she’d so loved. Word had it that she had called upon a fox god with a long-standing connection to Yomunaga to cast a strange spell over each and every tome. This story begins a few days after Tamaki’s son, Ayumu—the current caretaker of Mikura Hall, sharing the role with his sister, Hirune—was admitted to the hospital. But our protagonist is neither Ayumu nor Hirune. That role belongs to a girl of the next generation: Ayumu’s daughter, Mifuyu Mikura. Mifuyu nodded off as the train rocked back and forth. She was on her way home from school, her uniform still new to her as a first-year student, her head tilting almost far enough to the left to bump the silver pole. At a little past four in the afternoon, right before the evening rush, the few other passengers in the train car were mostly high school students like her. The yellow light of the western sun seeped through the windows like melted butter. The train soon reached the bridge, and as it crossed the river, striped shadows ran over the floors, seats, and passengers. It braked to a sudden stop, the jolt waking Mifuyu, and she brought the plastic bag from the convenience store dangling in her hands up onto her lap. Absentmindedly scratching her head, she combed back her overgrown black hair, which she had neither the time nor money to cut, before yawning wide. The train had stopped well before the station. She fished out her flip phone, something her classmates teasingly called Galápagos, from her black-and-white-striped backpack and checked the time. She needed to get to the hospital before they started serving dinner to the patients. After one minute ticked away on the phone’s digital display, the train began to crawl forward, and the view outside slowly changed from the dull gray of the river surface and the iron frame of the bridge to the domed station platform. The train passed signs for summer blowout sales at the clothing stores across from the station, as well as billboards with directions to the larger bookstores, before stopping in front of lines of people wearing suits. “Yomunaga, Yomunaga Station.” Stifling a yawn, she stood, her eyes meeting those of a girl from her school sitting across the aisle. She wore glasses and held a book in her hands. Mifuyu recognized it—Oh, I know that one. It’s super popular—but that was all. She didn’t know what it was about, and she had no desire to know. Because she hated books. Someone called out to her after she had jumped off the train. The girl with the book had also gotten off and walked up to Mifuyu as she stood on the platform. “You’re the Mikura girl, right?” Mifuyu had never seen this girl with her pink-rimmed glasses, and she quickly checked the school badge pinned to the girl’s collar. Blue—a second-year student. Best be polite. “…I am,” Mifuyu replied. “I knew it! I heard that someone in the Mikura family was going to our school. I was hoping I’d get the chance to meet you.” Exasperated, Mifuyu turned and strode off, weaving through the crowded train platform. “Hey, wait!” cried the girl whose name Mifuyu didn’t even know. “Do you want to join the literary club? Hey!” Mifuyu ignored her, pretending not to know what she was talking about. Regretting that she had admitted to being a Mikura, she removed her train pass from her jacket pocket. She exited the ticket gate and turned right, walking underneath an evening sky the color of melted burgundy. The university hospital, the region’s largest hospital, sat behind a row of dogwood trees fringed in light and shadow. After signing in at the visitor-registration desk, she walked inside and proceeded up to a four-person room on the third floor of the inpatient building, where white curtains partitioned the space to give each patient privacy. “Hey, Dad.” Opening a curtain at the back, Ayumu, her father, waved to her in his pajamas. Bandages were wrapped around his head, and the gauze on his left cheek mirrored the large welt covering his right, while a cast secured his right leg. His large body made the bed look awfully small. “How are you feeling?” “Absolutely fantastic. Doc says my head looks good, too.” “But they can’t discharge you yet, right?” Mifuyu thrust the bag from the convenience store toward him. It contained two yellow cans of his favorite Max Coffee and a bag of crispy brown-sugar karinto snacks. “How much longer do you have to stay here?” “Not sure. I still have physical therapy. But Che is taking care of the dojo, so everything’s all right.” “That’s not the problem, though.” Mifuyu sighed at her father as he tore at the canned coffee’s pull tab. Ayumu, who both managed Mikura Hall and ran a judo dojo, had gotten into an accident last week. He had been leisurely riding his bicycle on top of a riverside embankment one night when a cat leaped out from the shadows. An unparalleled lover of cats, he swerved frantically to dodge the cat and tumbled off the embankment, bicycle and all. The cat thankfully escaped unharmed, and a jogger running behind him saw the entire incident and called an ambulance. Even with his years of training helping him fall safely, however, the doctors determined that he would need a month to fully recover. The dojo’s assistant instructor, Che Jifun, could take care of the dojo, and Mifuyu could take care of herself. But one issue remained. “What are we going to do about Aunt Hirune?” Mifuyu asked her father. Ayumu froze, coffee still in hand. “…Did she do something again?” he said. “It’s more like she doesn’t do anything.” Mifuyu let out another sigh—this one deeper, from the bottom of her very soul. The sound of the tofu store’s trumpet and the folk song “Yuyake Koyake” signaling the arrival of evening came through the window. “There’s already been three complaints since you’ve been hospitalized. The first one was because she threw an empty lunch box into the garbage area without putting them in a bag. Then yesterday, Mikura Hall’s alarm system went off every thirty minutes for three hours. The problem is that Aunt Hirune can’t take care of anything. City Hall even called.” She opened the bag of karinto, extracted one of the caramelized brown pieces, and began nibbling at it, crumbs sprinkling down onto her skirt, which covered her knees per school rules. Mifuyu frowned, picking up each crumb from her lap and popping them in her mouth. “…How many days have I been here again?” Ayumu asked. “Five.” “Three incidents in five days…” Ayumu scratched his head. “She said she’d be okay by herself.” “She’s not, though. And that’s why you’ve always taken care of both Mikura Hall and her. I mean, I get that she’s amazing. I’m not trying to sound mean, but no matter how smart she is or whether she’s read every single book in the collection, if someone has to take care of her, then she’s not an adult. Plus, she annoys the neighbors.” Mifuyu did feel a little guilty, but she couldn’t suppress her overwhelming frustration and laid it all out for her father. Her aunt turned thirty this year, so she was still young, but Mifuyu had found her difficult ever since childhood. And Ayumu knew that. “…So what should we do, Mifuyu? How do you propose we solve the Hirune issue?” “What?” She just wanted him to listen to her vent and clasped her hands together in a fluster. “I didn’t really have anything in mind.” “But I won’t be getting out of here anytime soon. And once I do, taking care of Mikura Hall with this leg is going to be hard.” “…So we’ll move Aunt Hirune out of Mikura Hall and close it for good.” “And move her where? Our house? Weren’t you the one who was so against living with her after Grandma Tamaki died? Besides, Hirune would never leave Mikura Hall. She can’t live without books.” Ayumu’s expression was gentle, but his voice was firm, so Mifuyu quickly looked away and put another piece of karinto to her mouth. Her fingers were sticky. “I guess we’ll just ask the neighbors to be patient with her.” “I think that’s best for now. By the way, have there been any other complaints since the thing with the lunch box in the garbage area?” “I haven’t heard anything…” “Okay. Maybe she wizened up a little.” “Doubt it.” “Fair. Is she still sleeping all the time?” Mifuyu lifted her head and looked him in the eyes, a bad feeling spreading through her chest. “Don’t you worry about her, Mifuyu? For all we know, she could be sleeping the day away, not eating or drinking a thing.” People often teased Hirune about being “born to nap” because her name meant nap in Japanese. True to her name, she could sleep twelve, twenty hours at a stretch. Apparently, she’d stayed awake longer when she was young, but she had been like this since Mifuyu was born. That’s why Ayumu had been taking care of both her and Mikura Hall since Tamaki’s death. Mifuyu thought he should hire someone to help, but Ayumu steadfastly upheld Tamaki’s decision that only members of their family could enter Mikura Hall. Mifuyu’s mother had died at a young age, and her other relatives kept their distance. Her father worked tirelessly to take care of her aunt, who, if she wasn’t reading a book, was either eating or sleeping and could hardly do anything on her own. Mifuyu had grown up seeing him do all that and dreaded the thought that if her father passed away and left her aunt behind, she would inherit the role of caretaker for her lazy aunt. She never thought she would experience that so soon. There wasn’t a single good thing about being born a Mikura. Like what just happened earlier, when someone from her school suddenly approached her about joining the literary club. Mifuyu didn’t even like books. She didn’t read. She despised books. She took the one unopened Max Coffee and tried to wash down the frustration at the base of her throat, then let out a sickly sweet burp. “Okay, fine, I get it. I mean, it’s all on me anyway… I’ll just feed her and give her water. Good enough?” Her father smiled and nodded. After leaving the hospital, Mifuyu tried calling Mikura Hall but only heard the busy tone as per usual. With little other choice, she stopped by a convenience store and used the ATM to withdraw five thousand yen from her father’s shared account for daily expenses. The area around the station bustled with workers and students on their way home, and two middle-aged men in caps stood in front of a green bulletin board, hanging a poster announcing the Minazuki Festival at Yomunaga Shrine: VISIT THE FAMOUS SHRINE OF YOMUNAGA, THE TOWN OF BOOKS! Yomunaga Shrine stood directly behind Mikura Hall and was always crowded at this time of year. Mifuyu kicked an empty can at her feet, sending it rocketing toward a vending machine, then debated whether to leave it before scooping it up and throwing it in a garbage can. Yomunaga sat a little above sea level, so a walk from the station into the center of town followed a naturally pleasant downward slope. The shopping district in particular rested in a depression, so the stairs to its gate provided a wonderful vista, like standing on a cliff. The stunning views had even gained the stairs a slight reputation as a photo spot. Even now, with the setting sun blazing like hot steel at the edge of town, people held their cameras and phones aloft, snapping pictures of the dazzlingly radiant sunset-lit townscape. The smells of soy sauce and other fragrant sauces filled the shopping district, accompanied by smoke. The usual line snaked away from the butcher as workers in white aprons and rubber boots quickly stuffed freshly fried croquettes and mincemeat cutlets in bags. The fish seller had a special on bonito, and the owner’s second oldest son worked a grill at the front of the store, manually searing bonito skewers to a golden brown. The alluring smell of the skin and fat from the blue-backed fish as it sizzled above the coals pulled in people passing by, with a white cat even mewing incessant appeals. One pack cost four hundred fifty yen. Condiments cost extra, with small cups of diced green onion, Japanese basil, Japanese ginger, and grated ginger at fifty yen each. But five hundred yen per serving was a bit much. Mifuyu swallowed back the saliva forming in her mouth and tore herself away from the fish seller’s to look toward the grocer. Bright-red tomatoes, green shishito peppers, glistening eggplants, early crops of corn, and more lined the front of the store. Placing a bag of tomatoes, an eggplant, and a pack of Japanese ginger into her basket, she saw the same woman as always behind the register, her brown bangs held back with simple clip. As Mifuyu approached the counter, the friendly shopkeeper asked, “Oh, Mifuyu, how’s your father? Is he doing okay?” A fast-paced, hardworking woman, she was around forty and barreled through the main points of a conversation with little regard to the person she was talking to. Mifuyu’s nerves would have been frayed had her father been in worse shape, so she simply answered yes, to which the shopkeeper replied, “Good to hear!” before moving to the next customer. Mifuyu’s skills in the kitchen were limited to the essentials. She could make miso soup, but she always used instant seasoning and could never come up with new additions of her own, nor was she that interested in thinking about it. Her father usually cooked, so when he wasn’t at home—like now—and she had a reason to make miso soup, she rotated between three types: tofu and seaweed, cabbage and carrot, and eggplant and Japanese ginger. To round it out and make a meal, she would cook rice and pick up something at the store. She walked past the soba and udon restaurant and the Chinese restaurant, making her way to Hashida Broiler, a poultry butcher, where she joined a short line of people queued for yakitori at ninety yen per skewer. The large frame of the owner in his tightly permed hair filled the kitchen as he deftly turned rows of sticks on a grill stained black from years of use. “I’d like three chicken with scallions, three chicken meatball, three plain…and four skin. With sauce, please.” She gazed through the window, which was sticky with years of sauce and chicken fat; the owner didn’t seem to hear her over the din. Standing next to the owner and deep-frying chicken was his daughter, Yukari, who took Mifuyu’s order instead. “Sorry, the fan broke, so it’s really loud in here. Three chicken with scallions, three plain—what else?” “Three chicken meatball and four skin.” Mifuyu usually ate at least two skin skewers since they were her favorite. “Got it! You really do like the skin, huh, Mifuyu? We’re a little busy, so it’ll be about ten minutes. Are you bringing these to your dad?” “No, they’re for me and Che, and the rest, I’ll have to force-feed to Aunt Hirune…” Yukari frowned at that. “Hirune, huh? It might be a good idea to change her order to salted chicken. How about one skewer each of salt?” Mifuyu turned bright red, embarrassed that Yukari knew what Hirune liked, and just meekly squeaked, “Please.” Five minutes later, the freshly grilled yakitori had been sensibly divided into three packs and placed in a plastic bag, the bottom hot enough to burn Mifuyu’s hands. Shoving one hand in her jacket pocket, Mifuyu worked her way out of the shopping district, hunched over in exhaustion. In front of the weathered white door of a hair salon, she saw a stack of various books bundled together with string and a card with offering written on it. Remembering the poster for the Minazuki Festival in front of the train station, Mifuyu drooped her shoulders even further. After leaving the shopping district, the bustle changed to a calm that was more befitting Yomunaga, the Town of Books. Before Mikura Hall was built, Yomunaga had been an unassuming town by a river, with a large temple and a graveyard supplemented by numerous farms and plentiful forests. The nickname Town of Books was, of course, largely thanks to Mikura Hall. However, the town of the late 1990s at the end of the Heisei recession hardly resembled the one of the 1950s and 1960s during the Showa era boom. On holidays, booklovers of all types filled the large avenue that ran perpendicular to the shopping district’s exit. There, they could find a cute children’s bookstore with its red door and blue sign next to a book café with a ramp for wheelchair access. Across the street, there was a chic bookstore run by a former employee of a large book retailer. Beyond that sat a long-established used bookstore, a used bookstore specializing in translated works, a café in the refurbished reading room of a local author, a national retail bookstore chain, and more, so shoppers could walk ten steps and arrive at a different store related in some way to books. In front of Wakaba, a bookstore that Mifuyu’s father frequented, a young male employee with glasses swept the doormat, his haircut making it look like he wore a black mushroom on his head. Their eyes met as Mifuyu walked past, and he greeted her with a quick bow. Turning a corner on the avenue and walking down a gently curving narrow street, she saw the thick brush and vibrant green of residential lawns that would relax anyone’s breathing. A sign that read BOOKS MYSTERY hung under climbing roses, while the red-bandana-clad owner of the variety shop next door organized the discounted books and reading lights in front of the store. Mifuyu left the narrow street and emerged onto a wider road. Busier with cars, the view changed from modern bookstores to apartment buildings, dry cleaners, clinics, and other businesses catering to day-to-day life. The bag of yakitori swung as she proceeded down the gently sloping street until the incessant thud of bodies landing on tatami mats told her she was approaching the dojo. White light spilled out of the frosted-glass windows set in the sturdy, two-story reinforced concrete building, shining down on the children’s bicycles parked on the edge of the sidewalk. The shutters on the used bookstore next door were closed, the wind carrying the moldy scent unique to old paper through the gap at the bottom. “Hello!” Once Mifuyu pulled open the heavy iron door, the sound of people falling to the floor grew louder. The lights inside the dojo shone bright white, and the students sparring on the mats ranged from elementary school kids to middle-aged adults. “Here you go, Che!” Mifuyu called. Che walked over, rubbing a towel over his head, to take a slightly sticky package of yakitori. A black belt tied around his well-used, stretched-out gi, the young assistant instructor Che had just turned thirty and was skinnier than Ayumu. His ears were cauliflowered from a lifetime of judo, and his nose bent slightly. He was like an older brother or a young uncle to Mifuyu, who was an only child. Part of her daily errands consisted of bringing him some food in the evenings when he got a little hungry. But it wasn’t free. “All right, yakitori! Thanks. How much do I owe you?” “Three-sixty yen for the four skewers. Don’t worry about the sixty yen, though. Three hundred’s fine.” “Hey, good looking out. How’s Sensei?” “Doesn’t seem like he’ll be discharged for a while, but he’s doing okay. Listen to this, though: I have to go check on Aunt Hirune every day now.” “Hirune? Oof, rough.” Che frowned as he removed the yakitori money from his wallet, gazing into the space behind Mifuyu—toward Mikura Hall. “Someone called here a little while ago complaining about Mikura Hall. Said the alarm’s going off again.” “For real? Shoot!” Mifuyu cried in irritation, ramming her back into the dojo wall. Maybe it was time to finally kick Hirune out. Mifuyu immediately wished she hadn’t bought yakitori for her aunt and considered giving her portion to Che. He could eat it with Ms. Harada from the office, since he had a crush on her. But then Che said something else that worried her. “We didn’t hear the alarm over here, though. Yesterday, it was blaring all throughout the neighborhood, but today, nothing. And Hirune isn’t picking up the phone.” “Really…? Maybe she’s in the annex. You can’t even hear ambulance sirens in there. And sometimes, you head out to the store and stuff, so you could’ve missed the alarm…” “No, I was training here all day. And it wasn’t just me—the neighborhood dogs were all quiet, and Ms. Harada said she didn’t hear anything, either.” Che tried to hide his feelings for Ms. Harada, but they were written all over his face. It was kind of an open secret. Mifuyu wanted to give him a hard time about it like she usually did, but she knew this wasn’t the moment for that. She had to get going. “But something must have happened if someone complained. You might not have heard it, but it was loud enough to bother somebody. And that’s no good.” Mifuyu rushed over to Mikura Hall, not caring whether the yakitori in the bag jostled around. Close to fifty stores related to books dotted the Yomunaga townscape, providing something for every type of book enthusiast, from those looking for beautifully bound books to decorate their homes with; those looking for bookmarks, book covers, or other miscellaneous goods; and to shoppers searching for first editions, books with rare jackets, or hard-to-find books. But among all those options, the central core—the deepest layer of the Town of Books for true, die-hard collectors—was the secondhand bookstores surrounding Mikura Hall. Exiting the dojo, Mifuyu walked back the way she came, a giant ginkgo tree and Mikura Hall appearing as she ascended the gently rising street. It split like a river butting against a sandbar, branching into two roads; row after row of faded used bookstores followed, arranged in lines as though to surround Mikura Hall. After completing its circuit around Mikura Hall, the bisected road rejoined itself, jutting into the small hill beyond, where it split yet again at a T-junction, one side running deep into a residential area and one branch flowing toward the train station. At the top of this green hill rested Yomunaga Shrine. Banner poles already stood on the slopes, perhaps in preparation for the Minazuki Festival, which would be held in two months’ time. Throngs of visitors came to Yomunaga Shrine to pay homage to the goddess Inari, who was said to govern written works. Worshippers would toss their coins and ring a bell in prayer, and though the thoughts running through their minds at that moment varied, the comments written on the ema prayer blocks generally pertained to books, reading, or literary professions. For example: Please give me the chance to buy one of the thirty-five special limited editions of Standard Text: Collected Works published in the 1980s for under one hundred thousand yen. Please help the sci-fi writer Tarou Touhenboku find the urge to write again. I’ve been waiting for a new book from him for over twenty years. I’m going to win Rookie Author of the Year! I must must must win it! Please let me win! Please help my bookstore sell more books. If possible, have sales of the online retailer Aimaizon fall, or have the company get wrapped up in a scandal of some sort. And so on and so forth. Every type of prayer, request, and curse related to literature swayed in the wind under clear skies. People plagued by literature-related concerns would flock from around the country to this shrine housing the “God of Books,” but very few people ever read the materials in the Yomunaga Library resource room to find out when the God of Books first became enshrined there. Those who did know kept quiet about it. Either way, Mifuyu hated this shrine, Mikura Hall, the throng of used bookstores leading up to it, all of it. Every time the shrine held its festival, her grandmother would grew extremely agitated and worry endlessly about someone sneaking into Mikura Hall. Even now, Mifuyu could feel her long-gone grandmother standing next to her, fuming. The sun set, taking with it the veil of yellow and red light covering the town, and stars emerged to twinkle faintly in the sky’s true deep blue. As she approached Mikura Hall, the streetlights threw complex shadows upon the large ginkgo that had survived both the great earthquake a century ago and the war twenty years later. The breeze somehow carried the scent of old books. A lush garden surrounded by a concrete block wall lay behind the giant ginkgo, the roof of Mikura Hall just visible over the barrier. Mikura Hall was crafted in a Western style; its most striking feature to those passing by was the glass-encased sunroom underneath the gabled roof. A large, single-pane, two-story window ran down the center of the massive square building, accented by a slim, elegant, white frame. However, only Mikura Hall’s sunroom received much natural light. The building contained very few windows; it was largely similar to a traditional Japanese warehouse, with small ventilation windows set into dirt walls covered in plaster. That was because books despised light and humidity. Mikura Hall existed for books, not humans, and only the sunroom was built with humans in mind. Ever faithful to books, when Tamaki took over Mikura Hall, she tore up part of the yard to add the annex, building it without even any windows—even ones with shutters—because she installed a ventilation system instead. It was practically a prison. Whenever Mifuyu’s father used to take her to Mikura Hall, she would always cry and plead to go home. The ivy on the plaster walls creeped her out and looked ready to produce a ghost at any moment. Even the rough bumps on the giant ginkgo tree made her feel gross. She couldn’t find anything nice about the place. Mifuyu peered over the concrete wall; no light came from the first floor of the sunroom, but a faint orange light seeped from the second floor, so she could tell that someone was inside. Now in high school, Mifuyu didn’t cry coming here anymore, but her heart thudded as she unlocked the yard’s iron gate and stepped inside. She would check on Hirune and then immediately go home and watch a comedy on TV. The following day was a Saturday, so she could stay up late reading manga. Not like she had any friends to hang out with anyway. Passing through the lush garden with its violets, hydrangeas on the verge of taking on color, and goutweed with white edges to its green leaves, she stood on the blue tiles lining the front steps and rang the doorbell. She didn’t think Hirune would answer, and just as she thought, no one appeared. She inserted the key her father had given her into the lock, making sure to turn it forcefully all the way until she heard the mechanical clank. Had that really been enough to disarm the system? She looked above the door at the security system’s logo, but there wasn’t a peep. However, something puzzled Mifuyu. Next to the alarm sat a metal plaque with strange red letters that she couldn’t decipher. Had that always been there? She rarely came near Mikura Hall, and on the rare occasions she did, she kept her eyes glued to the ground, so she had never looked above the front door. Anxiety buzzing in her chest, Mifuyu hesitantly opened the door. The alarm didn’t go off. “Aunt Hirune?” Summer hung in the air outside, but the chilly air inside sent goose bumps running across her skin. The uniquely pungent odor of old books spread a numbness from the back of her nostrils to the area around her sinuses, and she felt on the verge of sneezing. Mifuyu flicked the light switch, orange light immediately filling the room. Though it was a Western building, the insides followed Japanese design standards, with a large box for shoes placed in a brown-and-white-tiled entryway. Mifuyu slipped off her sneakers and went to grab a pair of slippers when she let out a scream. Dead cockroaches lay belly-up inside the shoe cubby, and she had almost touched one. “…Ugh, I already wanna leave.” She pleaded that the cockroach wasn’t pretending to be dead, like a late summer cicada. Prayed that it wouldn’t suddenly jump up and fly off. Fighting back her urge to cry, Mifuyu carefully took out a pair of slippers from the slot two spaces over. The carpeted foyer extended into the hallway, turning to the right just before the wall at the end of the hall. A door on each side of the corridor’s cream-white walls led to some of the stacks. The small room on the right housed what could be called Mikura Hall’s “Genesis Collection.” This initial group of books included a copy of the magazine Shinseinen that Kaichi had acquired from the first issue when he was about twenty years old; a complete work of one-yen books that had been published at the end of the Taisho era; a translation of a modern classic, and more. The long, L-shaped room on the left, however, stored bookshelves crammed with Showa era picture books, children’s novels, books and light reading aimed at adults, and other relics from when Mikura Hall was open to the public. Kaichi Mikura’s collection focused primarily on novels and literature, containing works ranging from prewar days to the postwar era. Like most collectors, he would buy new editions and any reviews of works when they were released. Either way, Mifuyu couldn’t care less. She opened the doors to check for Hirune, but she wasn’t there. She continued down the hall, turned right, and ended up in the sunroom. Years of foot traffic had flattened the red carpet spread over the floor, and each piece of furniture was of high quality but extremely dated. A red blanket lay bundled on top of a jade-green chaise lounge. A pillow had fallen to the floor. The room had a toilet and a small one-door refrigerator in the corner, but no kitchen to incite worries about fires. Mikura Hall didn’t have an internet connection, and the only contact to the outside world was a black landline phone. The receiver was on the floor; no wonder the line was always busy. Hirune wasn’t on the first floor. Which left the second floor. The stairs rose up from the left side of the sunroom. A dingy cardboard box at the base was crammed haphazardly with convenience-store lunch boxes, disposable chopsticks, dirty tissues that Hirune had probably used to blow her nose, and more. Jumbles of stuff lay strewn across the room. The books on top of the table, however, were neatly piled with their spines aligned. None of the books were left open—not even one dog-eared page. Hirune really didn’t care about anything but books. Mifuyu felt a mixture of resignation and respect at this thought as she gazed out the window. The sun had set completely, and a deep sapphire sky spread out over the full, dark shadows of the houses in the distance. She walked upstairs. Half of the sunroom extended the full two floors, bookshelves covering the entire two-story wall, while the hallway on the second floor offered views of the first. The wide hallway was built in a half-balcony style, its wall also a bookshelf overflowing with books. The only other furniture were a leather sofa and a low table plopped inelegantly near the central handrail. That’s where Mifuyu finally found Hirune. She wasn’t on the sofa, but she lay on her back atop the red carpet between it and the low table, snoring heavily. With her thick glasses and freckles dotting her pale face, she could pass for twenty as easily as she could for forty, essentially making her ageless. Her light-brown hair was scattered across the red carpet; she wore a striped shirt that looked like it hadn’t been washed in who knows how long and loose pants that looked like pajama bottoms. Her legs extended straight out like a corpse in a coffin, while her hands rested lightly on her chest. She gripped what looked like a notepad. “Aunt Hirune. Hey, Aunt Hirune.” Mifuyu tediously shook her aunt’s shoulders, trying to rouse her. But true to her name, Hirune hardly seemed ready to wake up and instead just let out a sleepy grunt of a snore. A massive ledger lay open on the low table, small, neat letters recording the state of the collection. It contained a record of each book among the hundreds of thousands in the main building and the annex, separated by bookshelf, with anything in need of mending added to the list of books for the repair technician. Mifuyu placed a bookmark in the ledger and closed it with a sigh. “Whatever… I’ll just leave her yakitori here.” Mifuyu couldn’t understand how her aunt, who was fifteen years older than her, could be so irresponsible, sleeping her days away. She would bring her food, but that would be it. Mifuyu removed the pack with salt written in red pen from the bag, placed it on the low table, thought about it for a second, and then set it on the floor next to her aunt’s drooling face. The mouthwatering aroma might wake her up. With that done, once Mifuyu left Mikura Hall, it would take her thirty minutes to get back to her apartment, then she would make eggplant-and-miso soup with Japanese ginger in her kitchen, have a quick meal of yakitori and instant rice, and spend a leisurely Friday night at home. But as she stood up, her eyes fell upon the piece of paper in her aunt’s hand. At first, she had assumed it was a note that her aunt had written. But once she examined it more closely, the text wasn’t letters so much as some bizarre script written in red ink like spilled blood. She reached out, gripped the edge of the paper between her fingers, and gently pulled it free. It wasn’t a note. It was an amulet. Or maybe a talisman. She recalled the mysterious plaque next to the alarm by the front door. The script looked very similar. Oddly wide, flat characters ran down the long white paper. It resembled the prayer paper stuck to the faces of Chinese jiangshi vampires. Mifuyu quickly turned the paper over and flipped it around. She could read it. The stylization of the text made it look like a design, but the words were Japanese. “Let’s see… ‘Whoever steals this book shall be chased by the flags of magic realism.’ Huh?” The moment the words left her mouth, she immediately felt something like a cold finger run up her spine. She broke into goose bumps. “The heck? So creepy…” Mifuyu hurriedly released the talisman, sensing that she had touched upon some mysterious force. The moment she did, she was suddenly engulfed by a breeze that blew in from seemingly nowhere. She spun in circles trying to figure out where it had come from, but all the windows in the sunroom were shut tight. As though driven by a will of its own, the wind left Mifuyu, lifted the talisman playfully into the air, and twirled it around before setting it down in front of a bookshelf built into the hallway. In that spot, Mifuyu saw a pair of feet. An innocent-looking girl stood there, wearing white running shoes and socks and a school uniform the same as Mifuyu’s. Mifuyu screamed at the top of her lungs, falling on her behind and backing away. This girl had to be a ghost. She’d appeared without so much as a sound or warning, and her shoulder-length hair was as white as snow. “Wh-who are you?” Mifuyu asked. The girl didn’t answer. She slowly bent at the waist and picked up the talisman, then noiselessly walked toward Mifuyu and held out her hand. “…You dropped something,” the girl said. “Wh-what?” “You dropped something. It’s yours, Mifuyu.” Mifuyu’s face looked like a piece of crumpled paper. “No, that’s not mine. My aunt was holding it.” “Be that as it may, it’s yours, Mifuyu.” This was annoying. It didn’t make sense. What was going on? This girl had suddenly appeared and started contradicting her. More irritated than scared, Mifuyu quickly calmed down. The face of the girl who’d called after Mifuyu on her way home from school surfaced from the depths of her memory. “Oh, I get it,” said Mifuyu. “You’re with the literary club, aren’t you? I bet that girl told you to follow me here.” Having the name Mikura in this town was like walking around with a big sign on your back. Not knowing she detested reading, bookworms would approach Mifuyu thinking they had found a friend, all because she was a Mikura. Some just wanted a way into the Mikura Hall collection. The girl who’d approached her after she got off the train earlier must have been trying to do that. In that light, this girl was hardly peculiar, and Mifuyu didn’t have the slightest reason to fear her. She had either bleached her hair, or she was one of those people born without pigment in their hair. And her standing here had to be because a window on the first floor of the sunroom was unlocked, or she’d somehow picked the lock on the front door, or she had sneaked in earlier and hid among the stacks on the second floor. She had opened the sliding door and came out while Mifuyu was distracted by Hirune. A single door between two bookshelves led to the second-floor stacks. Yes, that’s exactly where she had come from. With that, courage swelled up inside Mifuyu, and strength returned to her legs. Crouched on the floor, she stood, her look piercing, and jabbed a finger out with conviction. “Scram. I’m not joining the literary club. I hate books, I have enough trouble as is with my textbooks, and I only read manga. There’s not one reason why I should join the literary club. And if that girl’s trying to win me over so that she can get inside Mikura Hall, tell her that it won’t work. I’d literally rather be clubbed to death.” “Literary club?” The dark-eyed, white-haired girl cocked her head in confusion and blinked. “Literary club… Not a literal club. Too bad.” “What?” “You said you’d rather be clubbed to death, but it’s a literary club, not a literal club.” “Whatever. Just get out. I don’t have time for your jokes. Don’t make me call the cops on you for trespassing.” Mifuyu pushed the girl’s back. Huh, so I can touch her. If she was a ghost, then my hand would’ve gone straight through, Mifuyu thought as she led the girl to the stairs. But once they got there, the girl grabbed the banister tight and stopped. “I’m not trespassing,” she said. “I came because she summoned me.” She pointed at Hirune, who was still asleep. “I don’t know anything about a literary club. I’m serious.” “…Really? So you know Aunt Hirune?” “We’re acquaintances. According to one definition, that is.” “What are you, a dictionary? Speaking of, you both fit the definition of weirdo.” She stopped pushing the girl and examined her from head to toe. She was a little taller the Mifuyu. With her flat nose and largish mouth, Mifuyu was certain, after careful examination, that she had never seen her before. Her school uniform consisted of a green necktie accenting a white blouse, along with a dark-blue jacket and skirt that were made for winter. The skirt covered her knees, so she apparently followed school regulations on skirt length, just like Mifuyu. But she didn’t have a school badge, so it wasn’t clear what grade she was in. “What’s your name?” Mifuyu asked that just to get an idea of who this girl was, but for some reason, the girl’s face lit up in excitement. “Mashiro. It means pure white in Japanese.” At that, something in the back of Mifuyu’s mind started twinkling, like flickers flying off a sparkler. But it lasted for only the briefest moment and disappeared before she could grasp it. She shook her head, grabbed the girl by the arm, and walked back toward Hirune. “Aunt Hirune, wake up. Come on already! Who is this girl?” But no matter how much she pulled or pushed, her aunt would not open her eyes. Mifuyu was over this. She never thought this would take so long. If she had bought the grilled bonito for dinner, it might have gone bad by now. She could microwave the yakitori at least, but making rice would be too much hassle, so she should stop by a convenience store and get some microwavable rice or something… She felt all her energy drain away. She adjusted the bag dangling from her hand and started to go downstairs. When she did, the girl who called herself Mashiro grabbed the hand holding the bag. “…What?” said Mifuyu. “You can’t go.” “What do you mean?” “You can’t go home that way. A thief came here and activated the curse.” “Thief? Curse? What are you talking about?” “Trust me. Mifuyu, you have to read the book.” Mashiro’s large dark eyes stared at Mifuyu, ready to suck her in. This girl’s even more of a weirdo than Aunt Hirune. Mifuyu quickly tried to wrestle her arm free from Mashiro’s grip, but she was surprisingly strong and didn’t even flinch. “Let go of me! You’re scaring me.” “I’m sorry. But you must read the book, Mifuyu.” Immediately after saying that, Mashiro walked over to the sliding door between the two bookshelves and threw it open. The scent of old, moldy books immediately rushed forward and sent dust flying. Mifuyu covered her face with her hands as she burst into a fit of coughing. Why’s there a breeze in the stacks? Is it the ventilation? No way Aunt Hirune would fall asleep with that on. Raising her head, all she could see was bookshelves. They had been installed from floor to ceiling, row after countless row stretching all the way to the back, with just enough room for a person to squeeze between them. This room alone contained more than two hundred shelves, and all of them were crammed with books. The silent scene felt like some strict religious house that came off as more oppressive than spectacular. Sweat coated the bottom of her feet. Mifuyu hated Mikura Hall, and she found this place repugnant. She had opened this door once when she was little, but the only thing from that time she remembered was her grandmother’s stern face glaring down at her. “This way,” Mashiro urged. Mifuyu’s temporary stupor slowed her response, and Mashiro dragged her into the room. Hardly half a meter separated each bookshelf, and they threaded through passages so narrow that small people could just barely pass through. None of the ceiling lights were on. Even so, a faint orange glow like candlelight filled the storehouse, causing the shadows of the bookshelves to hover. “…There can’t be any candles in here, though.” Open flames had been prohibited in Mikura Hall since Tamaki’s time, and both Hirune and Ayumu would never think of bringing any fire inside. Mifuyu rubbed her eyes again and again, but the ethereal lights never faded. Mashiro wove her way through the bookshelves that all looked the same to Mifuyu. Mifuyu anxiously watched her back and her vaguely translucent white hair as she was dragged through the shelves. “Here we are.” Mashiro stopped in front of a bookshelf and finally released Mifuyu’s hand. Massaging her slightly sore wrists, Mifuyu looked up and couldn’t believe her eyes. Even someone who despised books as much as Mifuyu could see the difference. While every other shelf overflowed with so many books that not even a gap existed between them, this one shelf alone was completely barren. In other words, twenty or thirty books had vanished. “…I can’t believe it,” Mifuyu said. “Read this.” Mifuyu looked to where Mashiro was pointing—a single book on the edge of the shelf. The writing on the cover resembled the text on the talisman. The faintest amount of dust rose as Mashiro reached out and grabbed it; the circular engraving on the front cover glowed a faint orange. It was The Brothers of the Lush Village, which was bound with a beautiful ivy design that seemed to wrap around the entire book. “Read it, Mifuyu,” Mashiro urged. Mifuyu swallowed hard. Usually, just touching a book would be enough to cause Mifuyu to flinch, but she was strangely calm now, with no sense of uneasiness. The Brothers of the Lush Village. What a strange title. Opening the cover, she felt a somehow familiar scent wafting up to greet her. She couldn’t begin to imagine what it might be about, but she felt irrevocably drawn to it. A desire to read it overcame her. It felt like someone hiding inside this book was gently calling her. “I haven’t read a book outside class since elementary school.” She breathed deep, filling her stomach with air before slowly releasing it and turning the page. Every story has a beginning and an ending. The Lush Village began as nothing more than a dry, red-brown prairie before brothers Beysil and Keysil chased black beetles onto that wasteland. No matter how much rain the yellowed clouds produced, the drops would simply evaporate the moment they touched the scorched earth. Without water, no insects, much less humans, could ever survive. Beysil brought the rain with him wherever he went. The moment he took his first breath on a night with a new moon, heavy clouds covered the sky above his village and released a barrage of endless rain. The village was completely flooded by the time the moon grew full again, and the evacuated villagers had no choice but to plug their noses and ears before diving deep to return to their submerged houses and retrieve the things they had left behind. The rain stopped when Beysil’s mother visited her parents in a neighboring village with him, and it started back up again once mother and baby returned home. The people eventually started calling Beysil a rain demon, and he was only allowed to remain in the newly rebuilt village for three days and three nights. And so his mother left, carrying the infant Beysil on her back. She looked up to see dark, heavy clouds following them. She would stop, and the clouds would catch up to them, followed by a drizzle that would turn into a downpour hard enough to hurt her skin. So she walked without pause, heading toward lands where rain did not fall. Beysil would bring rain to a parched land, and then he and his mother left for the next village before the sprouting vegetation could rot. And so the earth turned, and after the people’s clothing changed from thin to thick and back again, the mother birthed another son, Keysil. Keysil brought the sun with him wherever he went. Entrusting the young Beysil to someone, the mother had a midwife help with the birth, after which the light of the blazing sun assaulted the village, reducing the ponds to dust before Keysil even had a chance to taste his mother’s milk. The souls of the fish and crayfish left their earthly bodies and transformed into vengeful bolts of thunder that shook the soil and made the midwife scream. The dead souls sank deep into the dirt, becoming seeds and awaiting the day when they would emerge as sprouts. Hot days of blazing sunshine continued, the fields drying up before people’s very eyes. The precise moment Beysil was brought back to visit his mother as she rested in the midwife’s house, rain began to fall. The sun shone high in the sky above, and yet raindrops poured from clouds, soaking the ground below. The souls of the fish and crayfish that had perished cursing the world sprouted up, spreading red buds and fields of lush green far and wide. The sight pleased the mother, but it also saddened her. She bemoaned that the gods had abandoned the children she had grown in her womb and birthed. Dark clouds gathered around the sun, and as soon as the clouds cried, the sun would smile. Upset at the unpredictable weather, the people turned to the leader of the land, hoisting his palanquin and carrying him to visit the prone mother and the still young brothers. This great chief would not listen to a word of the mother’s lamentation, dragging her children away and entrusting them to a passing traveler. He then established a weather agency, employed scholars, and decided the dates of each brother’s departure and arrival, which he then carved on an obsidian slab, ensuring that the schedule was maintained. The brothers went with the traveler, dragging the rain and clouds behind them, growing up both admired and despised. The mother they left behind began to age and wrinkle day by day, her hair whitening and her bones growing frail. Eventually, she drew her final breath while gazing at the schedule on the obsidian slab. The news of her death reached her sons upon the petals of black flowers. The now-grown boys were devastated and grew to despise each other. If there had been no rain, if there had been no sun, then their mother surely would not have died alone. During a patch of rain on an otherwise sunny day, as Beysil lifted a heavy stone to crush Keysil and Keysil made to stab Beysil with a sharp tree branch, the traveler rolled two dice. They stopped, one die pointing west and the other pointing east. “Enough. Beysil, you go west. Keysil, you go east. Both of you, don’t look back, don’t follow the other, and never think of each other again. Just keep going forward and don’t stop. Someday, an insect will lead you back together again. On the day that a sun-shower falls once more, you are to build a village in that spot.” The two did as the traveler said, heading east or west on their separate journeys. As the two brothers walked away from each other, the dark clouds that had encircled the sun followed Beysil. Relief spread through the people as they would now have peace, even as they knew the uncontrollable weather would bring its own challenges. Separated for years at ages twelve and eleven, the brothers were reunited as adults and founded the Lush Village. Beysil searched under a heavy jug of rainwater, while Keysil explored a marketplace under the blazing sun, and each discovered their own black beetle. These stag beetles were sleeping, their fat bellies facing the sky. “…Mashiro.” Mifuyu looked up from the book and sounded annoyed. “Do you expect me to read this whole thing?” Mashiro was visibly confused. “You don’t want to keep reading?” she asked. She now had pointed ears protruding from the top of her head and a long muzzle with a doglike nose. “It’s just so long. I mean, who are these Beysil and Keysil guys? And the story is so weird. It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t get this whole rain curse and sun curse thing, either, and I can’t follow anything that’s happening. Also, the bugs are disgusting— Wait, why do you have dog ears? Are you wearing a fake nose? Quit it with the cosplay.” Mifuyu was speaking rapid-fire. She closed the book without waiting for a reply and returned it to the barren shelf. Mashiro’s dog ears twitched and drooped like a real dog’s, but Mifuyu was too busy glaring at the book to notice. “You didn’t like the story?” Mashiro asked her. “It’s not that. It’s just so cramped in here, and there’s nowhere to sit down, and I can’t stand up the whole time I’m reading. Plus, if you’re someone like me who hates books to begin with, following along with all these words is tough. Seriously, it’s been ages since I read anything this long.” Placing a hand over her sore neck, Mifuyu yawned and moved her head in a circle. She checked her watch; it was already almost seven PM. “Anyway, I have to get back home. I’ll read the book some other time. You really should take that dog costume off before you leave, though.” She then reached out to pick up the bag of vegetables and the pack of yakitori when—her fingertips felt the fluffy yet strangely sleek touch of a living creature. “Cluck, cluck.” A rooster strutted by her feet, its comb swaying with the movement. Mouth agape, she touched the rooster as though to embrace it. It was real. The rooster’s yellow legs crumpled the yakitori container, and it began to parade around the shelves. “What…what’s a rooster doing here?” Looking down at the crushed package, she saw that the yakitori that should have been there was gone. The sticky, sweet soy sauce had disappeared without a trace, too. On top of that, three sprouts poked out of the bag of vegetables, their tops stretching ever upward. Backing away, Mifuyu bumped into a bookshelf, staring dizzily at Mashiro. The appearance of the rooster didn’t faze Mashiro; she simply looked toward the far wall. Mifuyu heard the sound of rain. Raindrops struck the walls, and water dripped from the eaves. “But the forecast said it would be sunny today and tomorrow.” Mifuyu mumbled the words before gasping as she realized something. Ignoring the chicken and sprouts that had suddenly materialized, she spun around frantically and scuffled down the narrow passageway. “Mifuyu, wait. Where are you going?” “My laundry! I forgot I hung it outside to dry before going to school!” Sensing Mashiro trailing behind her, Mifuyu ran through the maze of bookshelves, which somehow seemed more complex than before, and headed for the exit. Eventually, she opened the sliding door and entered the hallway, her eyes flying to Hirune, who still lay sleeping on the floor. But something was different with her now. A translucent stone covered her like a crystal, ivy wound around her entire body. “Aunt…Aunt Hirune?” Wringing both hands tight, Mifuyu approached her aunt apprehensively, shaking at the thought that Hirune might have suffocated to death. Upon closer inspection, Mifuyu saw the woman’s stomach gently rise and fall, so she knew she was breathing. The word mother had been written in ominous crimson letters on her eyelids. “What is this? What’s going on?” “Cluck, cluck.” “Ack!” A hen with a small wattle brushed against her feet. “Wait, now there’s a hen?” “It’s because the yakitori was seasoned with salt,” Mashiro said. “That’s why? No, hang on—what’s going on with your dog ears? They’re twitching and moving…and your nose is so long.” Now that Mifuyu saw them again in the well-lit hallway, the white ears on Mashiro’s head looked real, the moist black tip of her long nose wriggling. It was like her entire face had changed into a dog’s, save for her eyes and hair. It was all so strange, but Mashiro simply said, “The better to help you with, Mifuyu,” completely unbothered. “…I must have fallen asleep reading that book.” Mifuyu closed her eyes tight, talking to her sleeping self in the real world. She needed to wake up quickly. She’d had enough; she was done dreaming. Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up.… She concentrated on that thought with all her might before carefully opening her eyes little by little—but her aunt was still inside the crystal, and Mashiro still had a dog’s ears and nose. If anything, they looked even more real. “Ugh, enough already…,” Mifuyu groaned. Mashiro just looked confused by everything Mifuyu said even as plants began to emerge from the floor, walls, and bookshelves. Everything grew rapidly; a wall of vine roses with yellow and pink flowers here, a blanket of ferns with thin, rustling leaves there, and what looked like bracken grew in one corner. The sound of water came from somewhere. A fierce rain pounded the sunroom’s large windows, a veritable waterfall running down the panes. At the base of the window, a pond had formed. Fish jumped with a splash. Mifuyu screamed, ran down the stairs half mad, and dashed past the grandfather clock, which had stopped at six fifty PM, when she heard a commotion. People were talking. It was a jumble of conversations. They grew louder, overcoming the sound of the rain, the clamor loud enough to make her want to cover her ears. There were no signs of any people. And yet the infinite layers of conversations in some unknown tongue caused Mifuyu’s eardrums to rumble. The bookshelves began to rock slightly back and forth, then the door to the first-floor stacks opened ever so slightly, and she realized that the sound was coming from the books. The words are forcing their way into my head! Mifuyu willed her quivering legs to run, fleeing out the front door. But now multicolored flags like those used to dress battleships, along with harlequin flags adorned with long hanging threads, burst forth from the smallest gaps between books and shelves, clinging to Mifuyu’s arms, legs, and face. “This is so wrong! No way this is happening! It’s a dream! A dream!” It was all because she had read that bizarre book. Because she had read that peculiarly strange story. Someone who always brought rain and someone who always made the sun shine? People like that didn’t exist. Stories were nothing but lies, after all. Fish and crayfish turning into thunder and burying themselves in the earth, then emerging as a variety of buds? Her biology teacher would flunk her if she told them something like that. Ugh, if only I’d never read that book! This is why I hate books! Tearing at the battleship flags that had wrapped themselves around her, she looked up as she brushed them aside, then went limp as she saw crayfish raining down on the other side of the small window above the front door in the foyer. “Mifuyu.” Startled, she turned around. Her face looking like hair had sprouted from a dog’s head, Mashiro stood directly behind her and spoke as she carefully picked the flags off Mifuyu’s body one at a time. “This is no dream. It’s a curse. You saw that talisman, right? ‘Whoever steals this book shall be chased by the flags of magic realism.’” Mifuyu stared back at Mashiro, her shoulders heaving with every breath. “Stop,” Mifuyu begged. “No more of this creepy talk about curses.” But Mashiro did not flinch. “The books in Mikura Hall—all 239,122 of them—are subjected to a book curse,” Mashiro explained. “The curse activates when anyone who is not a member of the Mikura family takes even one book outside the premises. The thief is then imprisoned within a story. This time, the book curse of magic realism was chosen. That’s the world the thief is trapped in.” Flags of red and blue, yellow on green, black with brown, and a bizarre mulberry-like color creeped down the hallway and emerged from the walls, trying to cling to Mifuyu’s body. “Everything happening now is because of this curse. Before the invention of the printing press, when books were highly valuable, people placed curses on books to protect them. It’s a defensive spell. Monks call it anathema, a curse of expulsion.” “…Are you out of your mind?” Suppressing the urge to cry, Mifuyu reached for the shoe cubby and ended up brushing her hand against one of the upside-down cockroaches. She had completely forgotten about them. The scream she let out seemed to bring the cockroach back to life. It jumped, its shiny black wings shuddering, and felt around with its long, thin, bow-like antennae before taking flight. Mifuyu almost fainted, but Mashiro caught her, sat her down, opened the door, and shooed the cockroach outside. It flew off into the sky that was full of rapidly swirling dark clouds and pouring rain. Brilliant battleship flags blanketed the streets, covering the used bookstores around Mikura Hall. The leaves of the ginkgo shone yellow, accenting the gray town as they danced like flakes of gold on each passing breeze. All the while, new buds formed on the branches, creating an endless supply of leaves to fly away in the wind. “In ancient times, each volume had its own curse, but there are so many books these days that a single curse can account for several volumes at once. As a result, the curse is much more powerful—strong enough to transform the entire town. In other words, we’re in the world of The Brothers of the Lush Village. The curse is limited to Yomunaga, and the thief is somewhere in town, imprisoned within the story.” Standing in the doorway, Mashiro looked as though she was illuminated by a backlight. “Mifuyu, you have to find the thief. If you catch them, the book curse will be lifted, and the town will return to normal.” Lightning flashed across the dark sky, rain fell in large drops, and a deafening wind raged. But up above, the full moon hung in the sky, surrounded by a whirlpool of thick rain clouds. The full moon gazed serenely down on Yomunaga, blinking a couple of times just like the greeting from the yellow eye of a black cat. “…The moon is winking. What’s going on?” Mifuyu looked at the ground to see plants sprouting, just like inside, growing thick as though a green carpet was spreading out to tumble down the hill. The town changed with maddening speed. Vines grew rampant, the roof tiles on houses danced in time to the sound of the rain, dogs sang, cats belted traditional Japanese melodies, and the asphalt was as sluggish as a mud road. Mashiro gently took hold of Mifuyu’s hand as Mifuyu stood in disbelief. Mashiro’s face was now mostly dog, and a white tail poked out from the hem of her long school uniform skirt, but her hair, eyes, and hands were still that of a human girl. “Come on, let’s go,” Mashiro urged. “We have to hurry up and catch the thief.” “…If we find them, will the town really go back to normal?” Mifuyu asked, her face perfectly pale. Mashiro nodded. “Yes! Probably.” “Probably?!” “Honestly, this is a first for me, too… All I know is that we need to find the thief. I was just born, so I don’t know a whole lot.” “…You don’t look anything like a baby.” “Well, strictly speaking, I’m not a baby.” “Ugh, enough!” Mifuyu stamped the ground, feeling her fear turn into anger. For some reason, this invigorated her. “Strictly, schmrictly, I don’t care! You act like you know everything about this world. You sounded so confident when you said that the town would go back to normal. Be more specific! If you’d never gotten me to read that book, then I wouldn’t even be having this weird dream!” Mashiro stood trembling, her ears dropping like a dog being scolded by its owner. The rain continued to intensify, the drops growing to the size of chickpeas, the sound starting to hint at a possible hailstorm. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t actually rain at all, but shiny white grains. Mifuyu scooped one up—it was a real pearl. A layer of pearls tumbled over the yard and street, reflecting the glimmering white moonlight. “This is insane,” she muttered. Mifuyu moved to take cover inside Mikura Hall, but when she did, Mashiro’s drooping ears perked up. Mifuyu didn’t hear anything, but Mashiro’s dog ears twitched, and her shiny black nose quivered. “…Someone’s in the bushes,” Mashiro said. “Who’s there?” The hydrangea bush in the yard shook, and a moment later, a black figure peeked its face out. Illuminated by the moon and the resplendent pearl rain, the creature was an orange fox with pointy ears. It let out an ugly, deeply wild bark. Just then, Mashiro lunged for the fox like a dog on the hunt. The sorry fox jumped up and tried to run away, but Mashiro was faster, and she pinned it in the corner of the yard. “Hey, what are you doing?” Mifuyu said to Mashiro. An animal lover, Mifuyu hurriedly chased after her, deftly scooped the fox up, and put some distance between them and Mashiro. “No one likes a bully. Right, Mr. Fox? Your poor thing,” Mifuyu cooed. The soft, warm body in her arms trembled. Mifuyu glared hard at Mashiro, who began to tremble again. “I-I’m sorry,” Mashiro whimpered. “I saw the fox and acted on instinct.” “Did your brain become a dog’s, too?” Cradling the fox, Mifuyu strode briskly through the raining pearls. “Mifuyu, what are you going to do with the fox?” “I can’t just leave it all alone in this messed-up world.” Someone petting its soft, orange fur must have helped the fox relax, for its eyes turned to slits of comfort. Lines of displeasure ran across Mashiro’s doglike face, but she reluctantly went along with Mifuyu. They left Mikura Hall and walked down the road among the falling pearls. Faint lights illuminated the old bookstores as office workers browsed discount books in front of the stores on their way home. The town had transformed so wildly, yet no one seemed the least disturbed. She’d assumed that she was alone in this strange world but was surprised to see some faces she recognized. The pudgy man searching for something on the right side of a bookshelf was a regular here, and he usually waved with a big smile, saying, “Hey, it’s the Mikura girl!” whenever he saw Mifuyu. “Mashiro, wait here a second.” Mifuyu made Mashiro stand in front of a vending machine before slowly walking toward him, fox still in her arms, and spoke to him as he went to pull something from the discount-books section. “Um, good evening.” His small eyes blinked back at her from his stout, pale face. “What do you want?” he asked. The sudden change from the cheerful, waving person to this cold treatment caused the words to catch in Mifuyu’s throat, but she gathered her courage and continued: “Oh, I don’t really want anything. It’s just… What do you think of this rain?” “Rain?” The middle-aged man looked up, scratching the balding section on the crown of his head, craning his neck suspiciously. “What do I think…? It’s the same as always. Tomorrow is Beysil’s wedding, and the sky is celebrating.” “…Beysil?” “That’s right. Everyone’s gathering pearls, see?” The road glittered under the layer of accumulated pearls. Children had assembled, busy collecting the pearl drops as they fell from the sky. A group of children squatted in a circle around a wicker basket filled with a pile of pearls they had collected. Figuring that this was just how things were in this world, Mifuyu decided that she needed to be prepared for anything. She squeezed her hands into tight fists, steeled her resolve, and turned toward the man. “Um, would you mind telling me something else?” “Oh? What is it this time?” “Have you seen anyone suspicious around here? A bunch of books were stolen from our collection—an entire shelf’s worth. I’m trying to find the thief.” “No idea. Also, don’t let that animal get close to these precious books,” the man spat. Then he took three books from the shelf, pulled the store’s heavy glass door open, and hurried inside. Same as in the regular world, the rows of aged bookstores were filled with bibliophiles fishing through the shelves inside and outside for the right book. Which was why everyone faced away from Mikura Hall—they kept their prey in front of them since no hunter would foolishly turn their backs on a good find. “Wait a sec. Wouldn’t the thief want to hide among people like this? If so, they might be somewhere around here.” Why did thieves steal books in the first place? Mifuyu figured it was either to earn money by selling them for a lot to someone looking for rare books or to get them for themselves. She thought that chances were good the thief was somewhere among this group of booklovers. But she couldn’t talk to everyone. Already swarming with people, the crowd seemed to swell as Mifuyu hesitated. One hundred people became two hundred, two hundred became four hundred, four hundred became eight hundred… Where were they all coming from? It looked like people were somehow mysteriously popping up from the gutters on the side of the road. “I’m going to lose my mind.” Enough was enough. She couldn’t do this. Mifuyu tightened her grip on the fox she was cradling, and it looked up at her with a curious expression. “There’s no way I can find the thief. We should leave it to someone else. Yep. That’s what I’m gonna tell Mashiro.” Just then, a black bug—most likely a cockroach—stretched its wings and flew, landing on the bookshelf in front of her. Mifuyu let out a pitiful yelp, and the fox barked a threat at it. “Okay, fox, eat that cockroach!” Mashiro then tugged at her sleeve. “Mifuyu, let’s follow that bug.” “What? No way!” “Don’t say that. In The Brothers of the Lush Village, the black beetle-like insects were called ‘carapaced bugs’ and revered as messengers of the gods. They’re the reason why the brothers met again after they walked east and west. And right now, Yomunaga is like the Lush Village. The bug might lead us to the thief.” This cockroach’s rounded wings did make it look more like it was wearing a shell compared with the bugs that surprised Mifuyu in the kitchen or by the garbage cans. Its body quivered when a customer opened the door of a store. Then it stood its shiny black shell upright, displaying the thin, silken hind wings it had been hiding, and flew off through the pearl rain in the direction of the moon. “…Hey. Did Yomunaga really turn into the world in that story? That guy mentioned something about Beysil or whatever.” “Yep. That’s why we have to hurry up and find the thief.” Mashiro pulled Mifuyu by the hand and ran like the wind, the hem of her skirt billowing. They followed the cockroach. Mifuyu felt so light that it was like she had wings, too, and she wasn’t really sure whether her feet were actually touching the ground. It was night, but the city harbored no shadows for creatures to hide and sleep. They flew past the lights of the houses in residential areas, the white lights of supermarkets, a billboard lit in purple for a pub that looked ready to sink into the earth, and streetlights, eventually passing in front of the dojo. Right as they did, Che, the assistant judo instructor, was standing in the street and chatting with Ms. Harada, who worked in the office. She had long, dyed brown hair and attractive eyes and nose. She was listening intently to Che as she lit a thin cigarette. Che, who was completely into her, practically had hearts in his eyes. “He’s totally head over heels.” Neither of them noticed Mifuyu, only raising a hand to fix their mussed hair, as though a dust devil had just passed nearby. Mashiro was fast. So fast that the fox on Mifuyu’s shoulders yipped in surprise. At some point, Mashiro’s arms and legs had changed into a dog’s, too, and she ran over the ground on all fours. Now nothing more than a dog in a school uniform, she carried Mifuyu on her back as she tore through streets packed with pearls, multicolored plants, and flags. The shelled cockroach leisurely soared through the air, not caring that a human and two animals were following it. Clinging to the area around Mashiro’s neck, Mifuyu yelled, “Hey, Mashiro. About The Brothers of the Lush Village—what kind of story is it? How does it end?” Even someone who hated reading as much as Mifuyu had now started to regret not reading the story to the end. It wasn’t that she cared about the book, but more that knowing what happened would help her escape this strange world. Mashiro glanced back, then spoke softly. “Rainy Beysil and sunny Keysil followed their carapaced bugs to a barren, desolate land. This was the brothers’ destiny. Now fully grown men, they could control the weather to some extent, and the land soaked up the blessings of the rain and sun. Rivers flowed, lakes formed, flowers bloomed in a dazzling display, and plants grew in an endless spring. The land thrived. Plentiful water and a flurry of vegetation made the soil rich. Livestock grew fat, and the starved land grew fertile. And as soon as that happened, people gathered there, built houses, and eventually formed a village. “Beysil and Keysil ruled the village in tandem, with the elder brother Beysil as chief, and the younger Keysil as the director of vegetation who oversaw all agriculture. One day, however, Beysil fell in love with Hauri, a woman from the village. And from then on, his rain turned to pearls. “The breathtaking rain pearls fetched a hefty price, making the village rich. But this rain brought harm to the crops, the key to the Lush Village’s prosperity. The villagers split into two factions—those who wanted to profit off the pearls and those who wanted to continue making their livelihood from agriculture. To protect the village, Keysil urged his brother to end his romance with Hauri. But Beysil chased Keysil away, revoked Keysil’s position as director of vegetation, and declared that all agricultural production be focused on pearls. “Furious, Keysil sealed the full moon within a black cat, casting it into the sky before he himself vanished. Ever since, the moon never set, and night continued as the sun ceased to rise. And during this endless night amid a constant rain of pearls, Beysil and Hauri’s wedding was to take place.” “You mean, tomorrow?” “Yes.” At some point, Mashiro had begun flying, and Mifuyu could feel the fox digging its claws into her shoulder to keep from falling. Yomunaga spread out beneath them. The pearl rain abated when they rose above the clouds, and the human and two animals emerged into the inky sky. The cockroach continued to fly unfazed, but now that they were above the clouds, the previously brilliantly shining full moon was, for some reason, nowhere to be seen. Even so, they followed the cockroach, and where the clouds swirled around an axis, they found a silver rod. It protruded from the ground, stretching what looked like kilometers into the air. Even as thin as a needle, it did not sway and stood gallantly from the earth. The cockroach landed on the rod. Following it, they saw a black cat curled up, resting on the top. “Great, now there’s a cat.” Mashiro snorted, annoyed. “Maybe that’s the thief.” Mifuyu wondered if Mashiro being hostile to other animals, especially cats and foxes, was because she was transforming completely into a dog. Mifuyu lightly patted Mashiro’s back. “It’s obviously not. How would a cat steal a book?” “…True. I just thought that the bug would tell us who the thief is.” Mashiro’s ears drooped. She wasn’t even trying to hide her disappointment. “I think that’s the Black Cat of Night that Keysil sealed the full moon inside,” she added as she moved alongside the rod. “I bet morning will come if you send it back to the surface, Mifuyu. Doing that might advance the story a little.” The cat’s eyes shone the deep yellow of a kumquat. Mifuyu recalled the moon she had seen earlier; she stood to grab hold of the cat. But they were high above the clouds, and she was on a dog’s back. An acrobat would have made easy work of it, but standing up on the back of an animal was a difficult skill for a regular girl. Her legs trembled. After a moment of hesitation, Mifuyu removed her shoes, set them with their soles up on Mashiro’s back, set the fox next to them, and then tucked in her knees so that she could place her feet on Mashiro’s back. From a squatting position, she slowly raised herself and straightened her legs, removing both hands from Mashiro’s back as she felt sweat moisten the bottom of her feet. Slowly now. It’s okay. Don’t look down, just take it slow— A cold wind blew from the east, and Mifuyu gasped as she lost her balance, waving her arms in circles. Right as she tipped forward, her fingertips touched the silver rod, and she grabbed onto it for dear life, her long black hair and necktie fluttering in the wind. “Don’t look down, don’t look down,” she repeated as she gripped the pole in one hand and extended the other to get the black cat. But it was thoroughly frightened and opened its red mouth in a hiss. “Come here, good kitty.” She couldn’t do this with one hand. Mifuyu gritted her teeth and let go of the pole. The moment she did, she once again struggled to stay upright. Her legs shook, and a cold sweat broke out on the soles of her feet. It was like the slightest breeze would knock her over, and she imagined herself falling into the endless night. Nonetheless, she reached out with both hands for the black cat. Her fingertips reached its soft, warm body. It didn’t hiss at her this time and let her hands approach. Mifuyu slid her palms around the cat’s sides and gently lifted it up. “Okay, got you!” In the next instant, the night shifted. The jet-black sky moved as one, and a ball of light suddenly blossomed in front of Mifuyu. The full moon. The intense brightness hurt her eyes, and she inadvertently stumbled, turning over with the cat still locked in her arms as she fell through the air. “Woof!” Mashiro spun on a dime, tucked her arms to her body, shot her legs out straight behind her, and chased after the tumbling Mifuyu like a speeding bullet. Before Mifuyu pierced the clouds, Mashiro’s teeth grabbed hold of the hem of Mifuyu’s long, fluttering skirt, and she flung her head. Mifuyu was tossed upward, landing on Mashiro’s back. “Th-that was so scary…” She wiped the tears and snot from her face with her sleeve. The black cat slipped out of her arms and sat down primly in the middle of Mashiro’s back. Behind it sat the fox, which looked upset and was glaring suspiciously at the newcomer. “The black cat is here, so why is there a full moon? And it’s still night,” Mifuyu muttered. Then came a sound like rumbling earth, like some giant working a stone mortar the size of a mountain. With the noise, another full moon appeared next to the first one, and a pink hole appeared beneath them, followed by a gritty, wild “meow.” What she had assumed was the night sky was actually the body of a giant black cat. This cat let out another roar that rumbled in its throat, and then it stretched its humongous body. The night trembled, and the light purple of dawn peeked out from between its ears. When it did, the regular-sized black cat that Mifuyu had rescued let out a happy meow, jumped up, and danced in the air—then clung to the fur of the Black Cat of Night. Looking happy that its friend had safely gotten off the rod and was back by its side, the two full moons—the Black Cat of Night’s eyes—narrowed into slits in greeting. The giant creature put its friend on its back, gingerly turned around, and flew beyond the horizon with a tremendous gale. The Black Cat of Night had disappeared and been replaced by morning. A white sun shone, countless golden rays spreading through a pale-purple sky flushed with light blue as a crisp wind breezed past. It was a beautiful, clear morning. Mifuyu, Mashiro, and the fox looked up at the sky in awe. Mashiro tilted her head; she seemed perplexed by what had just transpired even though she was supposed to be Mifuyu’s guide. Maybe she didn’t know what was happening because she’d just been born. “We’ll go back to where we started,” said Mashiro. With that, they headed down to the ground, where the pearls continued to fall, irrespective of the morning wind blowing the clouds away. The feeling in the town had changed slightly. The plants that had grown rampantly immediately after the book curse activated had browned and wilted, and in their place, every building was now covered in bright-white pearls, shining vividly. “It’s just like you said, Mashiro. The pearl rain caused the plants to die, and now the village is drowning in riches.” They stared numbly at the town as throngs of people assembled and welcomed them with applause. “That was incredible!” “You chased the giant black cat away!” They had landed right at the entrance of the shopping district, and Mifuyu knew most of the people there. A stranger to applause, she scratched her head with a tingling sensation and responded with a bashful smile. But none of these friendly faces seemed to recognize her. There was Yukari, who took her yakitori order at Hashida Broiler, as well as the grocery employee—she had the same frantic energy, her brown bangs held back with that same hairclip, but she spoke to Mifuyu reverently like she was famous. “Wow, that was so impressive. And you’re still so young.” “How brave!” Mifuyu felt the depths of her heart cool over. “…What’s going on with everyone?” She had always hated being a Mikura, but right now, she practically wanted to tell everybody she was one. She held her tongue, though. It was that story—that had to be why everyone was acting so strange. In that case, it was even more urgent to return the world back to normal and interrogate Aunt Hirune. But Mifuyu didn’t know anything about the thief. They might even be here among these people. She had no idea. People from the shopping district and the booksellers quarter with their red, blue, and green aprons welcomed Mifuyu, beckoning her inside with a wave, hoping to congratulate her over a cup of tea. Even the mushroom-haired boy from Wakaba was among them. They all smiled, looking pleased. That warmed Mifuyu’s heart; she found herself smiling. A sort of daze had overcome her. She actually enjoyed this, and her mouth bent in a silly grin. The only one not smiling was Mashiro, who had morphed back to a human, though she still had dog ears. She stared intently at Mifuyu as she walked among the throng of people surrounding her, like a loyal canine tasked with guarding its owner. Under the still-raining pearls, the shopkeepers lifted Mifuyu onto their shoulders. The pearls plinked against her head but strangely did not hurt. Three people were carrying her, and just as she was thinking this was like some kind of strange chicken fight at a pool party, Mifuyu came back to her senses. What was I doing here again? “Oh, um, have any of you heard anything about a thief?” she asked. “Someone stole some books from our shelves.” At that, the shopkeepers behind her started shouting. “A book thief?!” “We can’t have anyone stealing books!” “What kind of books did they steal? Someone recently took a whole bunch of manga from my store, so if you catch them, get my stuff back, too!” “My boss took the cost of the stolen goods out of my paycheck! I was so annoyed! I want someone to teach my boss a lesson, not just the thief!” The shopkeepers—be they from the new bookstores, the used bookstores, the children’s bookstores, or even the book cafés—were all agitated and sympathized wholeheartedly with Mifuyu’s loss. As they spoke, their resentment reached a boiling point, and smoke began to pour from the ears of the shopkeeper in a blue apron before the shopkeeper shot off into the sky like a rocket. That was followed by the red- and green-aproned shopkeepers blasting off into the air as well, their aprons fluttering like capes as they soared. “Wait, what about the thief? Do you know who it is or not? Oh…they’re gone.” After the shopkeepers vanished, other people continued to carry Mifuyu into the shopping district. The lines of stores and the iconic light-blue and red entryway arch remained the same. But other things felt quite different. The announcement broadcast through the speakers said things like “Today’s special: as many mini tomatoes as you can fit in a bag for just a single hundred-gram pack of pearls at Two Birds One Stone Produce!” and “Today’s seafood recommendation: pond snails harvested from the quagmire of Parched Lake! Try cooking them with grasshoppers in some sweet soy sauce!” Meanwhile, children with fistfuls of pearls poked a rod into a pot at the candy store with its famous red awning, scooping up sticky rainbow-colored candy. A boy with a buzz cut held some pearls out to the old woman running the store, who craned her wrinkled neck like a turtle to count them before curtly handing him a bright-red candy wrapped in plastic. In front of the grocer, a tomato almost the size of a pumpkin sat enshrined, surrounded by eggplant and Japanese ginger for sale. Mifuyu remembered that she had meant to have the same things for dinner, and her stomach growled. The fish seller roasted a handful of long fish. Some things were different, but for the most part, it seemed like always. She had bought some things here on her way back from school—that had happened just a few short hours ago, but it felt like the previous day. No…maybe it was a week ago? Or perhaps a month ago? A year? When was now, anyway? But more peculiar than that, Mifuyu didn’t find any of this strange. Not the massive flock of chickens fleeing Hashida Broiler and causing a commotion right before her, not the humongous snails wriggling in the Styrofoam box at the fish seller’s, not the people paying with pearls. She was starting to get used to this world. However, Mashiro had glued herself to the back of the group and sniffed wildly, continuing to scan the area. “Mifuyu, Mifuyu, look.” Still carried aloft, Mifuyu jutted above the crowd of people, and Mashiro yelled to her in an attempt to alert her about the strange changes occurring on the backs of the shopkeepers. Everyone had grown large tails. Everyone had the same fat, orange tail with a white tip. They resembled the tail of the fox on Mifuyu’s shoulder. But no matter how much Mashiro tried to warn her and tried to tell her, Mifuyu’s mind was elsewhere—she didn’t hear her and so didn’t notice the change. The procession continued down the center of the shopping district but halted when they neared the train station. Lovely music rang out from the direction of the station and was slowly coming their way. The station sat at the top of a hill, so getting there from the shopping district, which was at a lower elevation, required climbing stairs. The stairs were about three stories tall, making it hard to see the top from the bottom. They heard the music but didn’t know what was happening. The music grew closer and closer, until at the top of the gray stairs before them, they saw a translucent flag the color of the northern lights. “It’s Beysil’s wedding!” The group of shopkeepers surrounding Mifuyu let out a unified cheer and started clapping. Yukari from Hashida Broiler, the friendly employee from the grocery, the chef from the Chinese restaurant in his white outfit—they all turned to applaud, and Mifuyu unconsciously joined them. The sky was a soft, sleepy color. It reminded Mifuyu of when she’d peeled a quail egg and couldn’t believe the color on the inside. The shell matched that gentle, creamy yellow and blue. Even though it was the weather was sunny and cloudless, it still rained pearls. There couldn’t have been any better weather for a wedding. The wedding party consisted of flags, a marching band, and a string section, all followed by a choir. They began descending the stairs to the shopping district with a beautiful song. Finally, behind the children tossing confetti into the air, the figures of the newlyweds appeared. Mifuyu was clapping at first, but her hands gradually slowed, stopping the moment she saw their faces clearly. “No way. That’s Che and Ms. Harada!” She gazed up at Che, the dojo’s assistant instructor, and Ms. Harada from the office as they smiled at each other while walking at the most leisurely of paces. Che had on a white tuxedo, and Ms. Harada was in a wedding dress, but each wore a square cloth on their chest like a marathon runner’s bib, with Che’s stating Beysil in crimson ink and Ms. Harada’s saying Hauri. “Wait… Hold on a minute!” Mifuyu writhed and twisted her body, yelling to the three people holding her to set her down. Surprised, their arms went limp, and she got down to the ground, then slipped away from the crowd. She tried to get closer to the wedding party, but the doors of the stores in the shopping district and the neighboring houses all opened, and people came rushing out, overflowing with excitement and preventing her from getting near the newlyweds. Ignoring the growls of protest from the fox on her shoulders, Mifuyu clawed her way through the gaps between people, rubbing against the throng as she passed, gasping for breath once she emerged. The flag-bearers at the head of the wedding procession waved the northern lights flags, spreading the crowd like the sea as they walked down the road. Che and Ms. Harada smiled happily as they waved to the people, passing in front of Mifuyu before long. “Che! Ms. Harada! It’s me, Mifuyu! Hey!” With her yells, the procession came to an unexpected halt, the music dying out. Che and Ms. Harada turned slowly in her direction. “Who is this girl?” said Che. I knew it. They forgot who I am, Mifuyu realized, unable to hide her shock. Now fully human, Mashiro came up and gripped Mifuyu’s hand. She had the same small, delicate hands as Mifuyu, but they were warm. “Don’t worry—it’s only temporary,” Mashiro reassured her. “Once you catch the thief and return the world to normal, everyone will go back to how they were.” Mashiro stared directly at Mifuyu with her dark, earnest eyes. Mifuyu nodded and gripped Mashiro’s hand in reply. “Attendant, who is she?” Che asked. The skinny elderly man next to the newlyweds muttered and bowed, his wrinkled face becoming grimmer as he approached Mifuyu. His waist and neck bent, the bald man looked like a small fish, red ribbons adorning his head and clothes. His badge read Attendant, but in the real world, he was Kaname, the owner of Books Mystery. One time when Mifuyu was little, she had been in the park reading a picture book and eating a snack when Kaname shouted, “Don’t eat while you read!” at her. Then he spat, “I see there’s even a Mikura with no love for books!” She’d never liked him since. “You miscreant! How dare you interrupt the wedding. State your name!” he demanded. Kaname was still the same grump even in a book world, and that made Mifuyu chuckle. The elderly man grew angrier, and his humorously distorted caricature mask of a face turned as red as boiled octopus. Steam billowed from his ears and nostrils. Just then, the friendly grocery employee adjusted her hair clip and stepped between them. “Hey, don’t yell at her! This girl got rid of the Black Cat of Night. She’s a hero!” The moment she said this, a commotion broke out at the front of the wedding procession, and old Kaname’s face turned as white as a sheet. “I-I’m so very sorry,” he stammered. “I had no idea that you were the brave soul who did away with that troublesome cat the imprudent Keysil dispatched.” Bending his fishlike body, Kaname bowed low to the ground. Flustered, Mifuyu quickly said, “No, please don’t,” and made him stand upright again. Seeing all these people she knew earnestly playing their different characters was incredibly strange. Che, who looked after her when her father was away, and Ms. Harada, who would give her candy as a tip, were bowing to Mifuyu like some old royal family in a manga. “You have our gratitude,” said Che. “Please let us know if there is anything we can do for you. Whatever you desire, all you need do is ask.” “Anything I want? Like a manga I don’t have yet? Or a video game? Wait, never mind, you don’t have to do that.” “But is there nothing that troubles you?” Ms. Harada asked. Looking ever more stunning in her dress, Ms. Harada gazed serenely at Mifuyu, who answered in a fluster. “Well…could you help me find a thief? Someone stole our books, but I don’t have any leads at all.” She had no idea that her request would cause such a terrible commotion. She still didn’t fully comprehend that the person standing before her wasn’t Che—who was practically a brother to her—but the chief of the Lush Village. With his paper declaring him Beysil, Che loudly ordered for the identity of everyone in Yomunaga to be checked. Muscular people wearing squares with Military Police on them dashed out from the wedding group toward the unarmed civilians. The shopping district devolved into chaos. “Stop! This is too much! I only asked you to find one bad guy!” However, Mifuyu’s pleas never reached anyone, lost in the deafening roars and screams. Shaking, the fox on her shoulders dug its claws into her jacket so deep that Mifuyu could sense its pain and terror. “Are you okay, Mifuyu?” Mashiro called. Mifuyu turned around to see the girl’s eyes wide in shock. “…Your ears,” Mashiro said. “What?” “Mifuyu, touch the top of your head.” Mifuyu had a bad feeling. Filled with trepidation, she reached her hands up to touch the top of her head. When she did, she realized that two furry, pointy things were growing from the top of her head. Without a doubt, the soft, velvety smooth things she was touching were animal ears. And they were unquestionably attached to her body. She had even grown a tail. She screamed. “My…my ears! I have ears! And a tail!” A hush fell over the area around her. With that, everyone stopped wrestling one another and stared toward Mifuyu. Silence overcame the formerly bustling, celebratory shopping district, which had turned into utter chaos. The townspeople’s eyes were cold. They’d each sprouted two animal ears and a thick, orange tail. Mifuyu clung tight to Mashiro’s arm. “What’s happened to everyone?” “I saw their tails a while ago. They kinda look like fox—” “What?! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “I did, but you didn’t hear me…” “Oh, whatever. Why do we have ears and a tail?” “I’m not sure, but we should get going. We have to catch the thief!” Mashiro grabbed Mifuyu—who was pale-faced and toying with the furry ears on her head—slid her left hand around Mifuyu’s shoulder, her right hand under her knees, and leaped into the air. They flew. Closer to the ground this time, at about the same height as the windows on the buildings, Mashiro flew as smoothly as someone riding a snowboard. The wind rustled her ears, whooshing through them. Wrapped in Mashiro’s arms, Mifuyu braced the fox on her shoulder so that it wouldn’t fall, and she spoke as though entranced. “…I think I get it. This is just a guess, but I feel like this world isn’t strictly following the plot of that story. It’s been tailored for Yomunaga. Everyone in town was assigned a role. Che is Beysil, and Ms. Harada is his wife, Hauri. That’s it, right, Mashiro?” “Yeah, I think that’s it.” “But I don’t have a role. I’m still just Mifuyu Mikura. I’m not in the story, so no one recognizes me. Because I don’t belong here.” She was still a little confused, but her brain was operating in panic mode, and so she thought clearer. The wind rustled her long hair across her face, and she irritably brushed away a strand that tried to wedge itself in her mouth. Hirune was trapped in crystal inside Mikura Hall. The word mother had been written on her eyelids, no doubt because that was her role. “Hey, Mashiro. In The Brothers of the Lush Village, does Beysil and Keysil’s mother get trapped in crystal or anything when she dies?” “Correct. Good work, Mifuyu. Their mother dies, and after she’s buried, she gets encased in crystal so that she won’t decompose.” “I thought so. Then Aunt Hirune’s role is the mother. Which means that Keysil is out there somewhere. I assume someone turns into a fox at one point in the book?” All the strange things that had happened followed the story. Realizing that, Mifuyu felt a little better. It was like watching a horror movie that you knew the ending of. However, Mashiro dispelled Mifuyu’s growing confidence. “…I’m afraid that’s not correct. There isn’t a single fox in The Brothers of the Lush Village.” Mifuyu stared in disbelief. “What? So then why is it…? Hey, how does this story end?” Mashiro’s face clouded over before she hesitantly admitted, as though the words were hard to say, “…The village crumbles to ruin.” “WHAT?!” “It returns to ash. The pearl rain destroys the vegetation, and the angry villagers chase Hauri into the sky. She never returns. Furious, Beysil sets out to kill Keysil but instead dies by Keysil’s hand. Keysil is left alive, but rain never falls again, so the river dries up, the houses turn to sand and collapse, and the bodies of all the villagers wither—everything dies. Only the pearl rain continues, falling for eternity. That’s how it ends.” “That’s horrible.” Mifuyu looked down at the village in astonishment. Under the constant curtain of white pearls, the brown, blue, and white roofs of the town crowded into a mosaic pattern, moving figures barely visible. The plants had already begun to wither. Mifuyu’s hands grew cold, and she tightened her grip. “It can’t end that way.” “In magic realism, stories often end with villages and towns falling to ruin.” “No, that’s not what I mean! That’s fine for some made-up story, but Yomunaga can’t disappear for real!” She might not have noticed it because of the darkness, but a light yellow haze hung on the horizon, surrounding Yomunaga like a wall. Nothing was visible past the banks on the opposite side of the river or beyond the train bridge. The area around Yomunaga had been closed off like a shelter. “It’s true, just like you said. The curse only affects Yomunaga. It’s like the world boundaries you see in video games and anime.” How could people get here or go somewhere else? Were Yomunaga residents outside the town cursed, too? Did the curse affect people who came from other towns? What about cars? Trains? Mifuyu looked around, searching the train tracks. Not a single train was running. There were too many mysteries. Mifuyu suddenly remembered Che telling her about someone calling to complain when she had stopped by the dojo that night. The caller said the alarm system was going off, but Che and everyone else said they hadn’t heard anything. Something was nagging at Mifuyu, but she couldn’t connect the dots. After flying about thirty meters, Mashiro landed on the roof of the hospital where Ayumu was staying and set Mifuyu down. Pearls blanketed the moss-covered roof, browning moss visible between the pearls. Mifuyu’s transformation into a fox had continued, with her hands, legs, and face covered in soft orange fur. “…I’m slowly turning into a fox,” she muttered, examining her hands. “Agh, I feel like I get it, but I don’t!” As she spoke, dots of colorful primary colors sparkled on the edge of the haze surrounding Yomunaga and came toward them. They appeared from not one but all directions, growing bigger before their eyes. It was the group of battleship flags that had first appeared in Mikura Hall. Leading the group of flags were the booksellers who had flown off in search of the thief. Their colorful aprons waving, they flew directly toward Mifuyu, their arms spread wide like wings. “The thief!” “We found the thief!” “All units, touch down! To the surface!” When Mifuyu looked up toward the voices, the flags landed deftly and engulfed the hospital wing. “Oh no!” The vehemently angry booksellers controlled the humongous bundle of flags like a net poised to engulf the entire town. Just then, the fox that had been perched silently on Mifuyu’s shoulders yipped, jumped down, and ran like a frightened rabbit—or a frightened fox. “Hey, where are you going?!” The instant she reached out a hand and yelled for it to stop, a realization flashed through Mifuyu’s mind like lightning. The fox dashed to a corner of the hospital roof, squeezed through a gap in the railing, grabbed hold of the green flags wrapping around the hospital wing, bounded up, and glided quickly down to the ground. “Mashiro, after that fox!” But Mashiro still hadn’t figured it out. “Leave the fox alone and watch out for the flags!” she warned. The frenzied shopkeepers moved in front of them as though possessed by demons. Without waiting for an answer, Mifuyu grabbed Mashiro’s hand and dragged her to the railing on the roof. “Don’t you get it? The fox is the thief! I should have realized it sooner!” Mifuyu insisted. According to Mashiro, there were no foxes in The Brothers of the Lush Village, the book that acted as the basis for this world. Mifuyu didn’t know why it was a fox, but for whatever reason, some rule was changing people into foxes. Put another way, chances were good that foxes in this world were originally people. “Think about it. The fox transformation is gradual, so it takes time to change completely. My ears are already a fox’s, but my hands still look human. Which means that people don’t change immediately. But that fox was already fully transformed by the time I’d read that book and left Mikura Hall. That means it arrived in this world before anyone else. So it has to be the thief that triggered the curse! Mashiro, jump! We have to catch that fox!” Mifuyu took Mashiro’s hand in hers and jumped off the roof. She shut her eyes tight at the speed of their descent, but Mashiro kept hers open wide, slipped a hand around Mifuyu’s waist to support her, and kicked off the hospital wall with her long, white legs. The second that Mashiro and Mifuyu flew away, the booksellers adjusted their course and chased after them with the flags. Mifuyu grabbed hold of Mashiro as they dashed away at an astonishing speed, her eyes slits against the intense wind as she watched the fox. It climbed a telephone pole, walked over the wires, dashed across a billboard, and crossed over the cargo of some parked trucks before returning to the ground and bolting toward the train station. “There it is! Toward the station!” Mifuyu yelled. “I should’ve never rescued that fox!” Mashiro kicked off a telephone pole, darting between the roofs of the train-station platforms to fly over the tracks. The regular blue train waited on the tracks. Mashiro and Mifuyu slipped by it and landed on the platform. But the fox was on the other side of the gates. The automatic ticket gates rose to the height of a human’s waist, so something the size of a fox could easily slip underneath them and onto the platform without a ticket. But the fox was instead headed toward a planter in the ticket area. Mifuyu and Mashiro shared a look, then flew past the ticket booth in pursuit of the fox. The giant flags covered the sky over Yomunaga, painting the buildings and people in red, blue, and green. It was only a matter of time before the furious booksellers, still upset over the grievances inflicted by shoplifters, arrived at the train station. The fox ran for the lockers. On the other side of the station’s decorative plants sat green coin lockers with twenty small doors, ten medium doors, and four large doors. It jumped eagerly up and down on the left side of the lockers. It had enough time to get away but was still jumping in place when it saw Mifuyu. “…What are you doing?” As Mifuyu approached, it turned its vexed face toward her and pointed its round paws up. The fox couldn’t climb the sheet-metal lockers with its claws. It indicated the upper row with the line of large doors. Mifuyu reached out to one of the doors on the fox’s behalf. But the door just rattled when she pulled at the handle. “It’s locked,” Mifuyu spat. The fox sprang toward Mifuyu and deftly scampered up to her shoulders. It held two hairpins in its paws, obtained from who knows where. “You can’t be serious.” The fox’s mouth distorted into a grin, then it used Mifuyu’s arm as a scaffold to insert the hairpins in the locker’s keyhole. After playing with it for a while, the lock eventually clicked. The next instant, the locker door flew open, and a torrent of books cascaded out. A book with a white cover showing a human bent over in a black ink, a book with a picture of a town coiled in upon itself, a crimson book, a book with rings drawn on it, a book with people dressed for a funeral wearing strange bird masks, a book bluer than the sea—those and various other novels burst forth. The second they were outside, they spread their pages like wings and flew off into the air. At the sight of the books flying like birds, the anger of the booksellers in their flapping aprons vanished, and the flags covering the sky shriveled and disappeared. The sun soon set, and under a sky painted burgundy, Mifuyu watched the flock of books blend into the setting sun, almost allowing the crafty fox the chance slip away. It jumped soundlessly down from Mifuyu’s shoulders, and as it tried to creep stealthily away and escape, Mashiro grabbed it by the nape. It yelped but could not escape Mashiro’s powerful grip. “We can’t take our eyes off you for a second.” Mifuyu glared at the fox and grabbed its front paws in both hands as though handcuffing it. And then the ground shook violently. When she woke, she found herself laying face up on the floor of the second-floor stacks of Mikura Hall. The smell of old books mixed with dust and mold combined with the rich smell of sweet soy sauce to assault her nose. Her head spinning, she tried propping herself up on her elbows, but her body was stiff, probably from lying on the hard floor. “Ow… Wait, Mashiro?” There was no reply. She sat up, scratching her head as she looked around, but there was no sign of anyone on either side of the bookshelves, which stretched up to the ceiling. The fox wasn’t there, either. Instead, the pack of yakitori and the bag from the grocer lingered by her side, their scent wafting toward her. It hadn’t changed into a live chicken. “What the…? Was it all a dream?” Silence reigned over the stacks, the books still waiting quietly for someone to read them. Looking up, she saw the books were crammed into the shelves, with no shelf empty. Massaging her joints as she stood, she picked up the yakitori, holding it by the bottom. It was slightly warm. Not much time had passed since she’d fallen asleep. Had she returned to the normal world, or had that been a dream? To help soothe her confused mind, she checked the books lined on the shelves from one end to the other, walking around to make sure that none were missing. Books filled every shelf. There was no thieving fox and no Mashiro, the girl with dog ears. Walking from the shelves to the hallway, Mifuyu found Aunt Hirune still sleeping on the floor. The crystal and the word mother written on her eyelids were gone. “Geez, you’ll catch a cold.” But Hirune just snorted and showed no sign of rousing. With few other options, Mifuyu took the blanket from the sofa and placed it over her aunt. When she did, her eyes fell to the book resting on the low table. A picture of overgrown ivy covered the elaborate cloth binding. The title read: The Brothers of the Lush Village. She felt her heart almost stop, and she started coughing in shock. Then she reached out with trembling hands and picked up the book. It was lighter than she expected and fit easily in her hand. When she opened the cover, a tuft of orange fur fell to the floor. She wondered what kind of fur it was. Fox, perhaps? Her heart racing wildly, she looked over her shoulder and gazed down at her snoring aunt. “Even if I told her, she’d just laugh it off as some dream.” Mifuyu sighed, started to walk down the staircase, reconsidered, then came back and put the book in her backpack. She exited Mikura Hall into darkness, the white moon hanging in the night sky. Around the used bookstores, workers and students on their way home browsed discounted books, and she could hear the song of the tofu seller’s flute in the distance. No pearls rained down from above, and no battleship flags flew in the sky. The pudgy customer she knew stood in front of a shelf, calling, “Oh, it’s the Mikura girl. Hello!” when she passed behind him. But a strange sort of sadness accompanied the relief welling up inside her. She looked behind her time and again as she made her way home. She hoped she might find Mashiro with her dog’s face trailing behind her even now. The people she passed on the street were the same as usual: middle school students walking home and laughing with their friends, fathers riding bicycles with children tucked into child seats, women carrying shopping bags home from the supermarket. No one suddenly flew off into the sky or wore a strange paper on their chest and started talking to her. Mifuyu looked up at a moon as round as a cat’s eye, imaging that silver pole standing somewhere, a black cat mewing on top. Her spirits lifted when she remembered that the following day was a Saturday and she didn’t have school. It had been ages since she’d last wanted to read a book this much. She recalled a memory of herself in her kindergarten clothes, absorbed in reading the picture book cradled in her lap. She wanted to know what happened next in the story. She wanted to know more about that world.