Chapter 14

Book 1 The Field Guide of Extinct Animals Was Waiting “Come on in! Starting today, we’re having our grand store closing! We’ve got all sorts of activities! You can take commemorative photographs with your favorite books, make a sign to display, and more! Please come join us!” The young man in glasses, wearing a white shirt and a blue apron with the store’s name printed on it, was shouting clearly and energetically at passersby. Minami watched with a stern look in her eye. “Hello, everyone, I’m Musubu Enoki. I’ll be here at Koumoto Books helping out until the store closes. It’s just a short while, but I look forward to working with you!” It was the day after Minami had met him. None of the other part-timers had been able to hide their bewilderment at the small boy greeting them with a smile, either. Starting in April, he would be in his second year of high school. He had gone out of his way to come from his home in Tokyo to this small town in Tohoku. The owner of the store had written in his will that upon his death, all the volumes in Koumoto Books were to be entrusted to Musubu Enoki. Minami had heard that from both Musubu and a lawyer who had visited the shop the day before. He didn’t “bequeath” the books, he “entrusted” them—what does that mean? As long as it was within a set window of time, the store could return books stocked by a distributor. New releases would typically be sent back for resale, so Minami had figured the same would happen with most of the leftover books. So what was the boss thinking, leaving that up to the discretion of a high school boy? In any case, if this boy had the right to every book in the store, that meant they couldn’t sell anything without his permission. But where did that leave the closing sale? All the staff had been concerned, but Musubu had bowed and spoken to them with a sincere smile. “Ah, the books here belong to the shop until the very end, so don’t worry. We’ll hold a grand store closing as planned; everything will be fine. And I’ll be here to help out.” His smile betrayed not a trace of ill will. For the time being, all the part-timers besides Minami seemed to be put at ease. “But what kind of relationship did you think Enoki had with Emon anyway? Were they related?” “I heard that the boss’s family all died; he’s not supposed to have any relatives left.” “Maybe he had a secret love child!” “Now that you mention it, he does wear glasses… There’s a resemblance!” Minami scolded the part-timers. “They just wear similar-looking big glasses, that’s all! There’s no way the boss would have a secret kid.” Since coming back to work at the bookshop, Minami would often find herself on edge, even at the best of times. When she looked at Musubu’s friendly face, she couldn’t help but feel a sting of irritation and suspicion in her chest. She couldn’t understand why the boss had entrusted all the books in the shop to Musubu, who was still just a high schooler. It frustrated her—she had been working there the longest and had been his most reliable employee. Why’d he give everything to this kid? He’s not even a local—he’s from Tokyo. She glumly repeated this to herself like a refrain. Hearing him talk about his relationship with Emon only made her more annoyed. “I happened to make his acquaintance last autumn, when he came to Tokyo on business. I’m a booklover, too, so we hit it off, and that’s all there is to it.” Last autumn?! They’d only known each other for half a year! I’ve been working here for seven. Moreover, on the first day they had met, he had been muttering to himself in front of the bookshelf where Emon had died. That had been bothering her ever since and had sent her deeper into uncertainty. “Who killed Emon?” That was what he’d asked back then. When Minami had asked him what he meant by it, he’d played dumb. “Uh…are you sure I said that?” “You definitely did. I heard you myself.” When Minami had pressed in closer, the boy’s eyes had widened, and he’d let out a little shriek. “I-I’m not ch-cheating, Princess Yonaga. My heart can’t take it when you suddenly start ‘cursing’ me, so cut it out, please. Yes, of course it’s a misunderstanding. I love you, so quit with the curses.” Musubu got flustered without warning and started talking to himself again. Minami stared at him, dumbfounded, while he apologized. “Sorry, my girlfriend gets super jealous whenever I even talk to or approach another girl, so do you think you could back off a little?” “Your girlfriend? Where is she, then? You’ve been talking to yourself this whole time. Frankly, you seem kinda crazy.” When she asked about this girlfriend, his eyes darted around guiltily behind his glasses. “I try my best not to talk to her in front of other people, but it just sort of happened. Um, the thing is, I can talk to books.” He was blurting out something that didn’t make any sense again. “Are you playing some kind of prank?” “No, of course not! It’s true. For whatever reason, I’ve always been able to hear the voices of books. And when I talk to them, they answer me willingly. When I mention my girlfriend, I’m talking about her.” From the pocket of his duffel coat, he excitedly pulled out a thin paperback book with a blue cover. Princess Yonaga and Ear Man. That’s a novel by Ango Sakaguchi. If I remember correctly, it’s the story of a sculptor who is tormented by a beautiful and devilish girl who loves to watch people die. That’s right—Princess Yonaga is the name of that malicious young lady. Is this like how boys who are fans of light novels and manga will often call their favorite heroine their “wife”? But he says he’s actually conversing with this “princess.” Either he’s a serious otaku, or puberty is making him crazy. “Princess Yonaga is greeting you, too, Ms. Tsuburaya. She’s saying, ‘If you put your face close to Musubu’s or touch him or wink at him, I’ll curse you’… Sorry, but it would help me out if you’d be careful.” There’s no way I’m gonna wink at you! Was he deliberately trying to change the subject from what happened to the shop owner to make her angry? She was suspicious—then realized something and jumped with alarm. “Did you just call me Tsuburaya? How do you know my name? And earlier…you knew I was the most senior employee here.” Yeah, you said that I had been working here the longest and that I seemed to be the most reliable, didn’t you? “Who did you hear that from?” When she asked this question, he looked at her intently with big, clear eyes from behind his transparent lenses and smiled as he answered. “The books told me.” How ridiculous. Despite her misgivings, for a moment Minami almost deluded herself into believing Musubu could really hear the voices of books. But when she gave it some more thought, she realized he must have seen her personnel file beforehand. Her photograph would have even been attached to her résumé. Surely that’s how he had known who she was. There was no way he could have conversed with the books. If Musubu believed that he could, he was either loopy from hormones or suffering from delusions of grandeur. “Who killed Emon?” When he’d said that, he’d sounded as if he’d been speaking to someone from a reality of his own creation. As Minami helped a steady stream of customers, she occasionally shot a pointed glance in his direction. He was working hard, calling out to customers and handling them well. Chiding herself to worry about doing her own job before saying anything about him, she tried to channel her annoyance into her work. Positive attitude aside, Musubu had said he was used to handling books, but his manner was so delicate, it was astonishing. He touched them softly, as if he were cradling a precious treasure, and slipped on their paper covers gently, as if caressing them. And when he looked at a book, it was with eyes as affectionate as when you gaze at a dear friend. Whenever a customer picked up a book or went to make a purchase, his lips curled into a contented smile. The way he was acting made her recall Emon, the owner—he, too, would look genuinely happy whenever someone purchased a book. He would smile softly as he saw the volume off, as if he were silently indicating he was glad for it. But Emon and Musubu are different people, and there’s absolutely no way he’s the boss’s secret kid! “Looks like we should have prepared a bit more colored paper for the customers to make signs, huh? I’ll get right on that.” Musubu wore a more carefree expression than Emon ever had. As he was cutting the colorful poster board into different shapes, Musubu asked, “You got the idea to have customers make and display these pop signs from that book, right? A Funeral for Kanoyama Books…?” He sounded as if he were enjoying himself. “A bestseller depicting the only bookstore in a small, snowy village in the last days before its closing. People with a connection to the shop come to visit one after another, and the pictures they take with their favorite books are displayed throughout the shop with pride and joy, like multicolored flags—that scene was incredibly striking in both the novel and the movie. The author, Kouichi Tamogami, is apparently from this town. He held a book signing at Koumoto Books.” “…Mr. Tamogami was… Before his debut, he was a regular here, and I heard he was close friends with Emon, so…” With a smash-hit movie on his hands, the bestselling author had held a book signing in this small local bookstore. The news had excited the townspeople, and on the day of the signing, a long line had stretched out of the building. Everyone had been clutching a copy of A Funeral for Kanoyama Books to their chest, and Emon had been smiling effusively as he chatted with the crowd. Undoubtedly, it had been Koumoto Books’s finest hour. The internet wasn’t as widespread as it is now, there were no smartphones, and there were fewer ways to amuse oneself alone, so for many people, reading books was a pleasure, a blessing, even a reason to live. The heavy weight of a finely bound hardcover in the hand, the feel of the crisp new pages that threatened to slice one’s fingers…they were enough to make the heart flutter with anticipation. That was nearly twenty years ago. At the time, Minami hadn’t even started kindergarten yet, but she remembered standing in the long line with her mother and getting the author to sign the inside cover of their book. It had gotten lost before she knew it, though. “Do you think Mr. Tamogami will come to our grand store closing? He’s supposed to come, right? Well, if he does, it’ll be amazing publicity. Just imagine, an author who wrote a bestseller about the final days of his village’s only bookshop, and he’s coming to the grand send-off of the last bookstore in this town,” Musubu babbled. His springy black hair bounced and bobbed as he spoke. “I wonder… I did contact him, but he’s a busy man.” Though Kouichi Tamogami’s popularity had declined since his heyday, he still periodically published new works. Since he had held a signing at Koumoto Books only once and declined all further invitations, even for giving lectures at the local community center, he probably wasn’t coming. At one point, when sales had started to decline, someone had suggested asking him to return for another book signing, but Emon had narrowed his eyes behind his glasses and smiled sadly as he answered. “Hmm… Mr. Tamogami might be…difficult to get ahold of.” In the days when Mr. Tamogami was living in town, he and Emon had been close enough friends that he would sometimes spend all night chatting with him in the bookstore’s office. But that closeness must have faded after Mr. Tamogami had gotten famous and moved to Tokyo. An old part-timer who had quit the year before had mentioned it to Minami. “When Emon’s baby was born, a congratulatory present arrived from Mr. Tamogami, and Emon was overjoyed. But when he called him up to say thank you and asked him to come back and visit Koumoto Books sometime, he apparently turned him down… Emon was really sad about it. “Emon’s not the type to wear his troubles on his sleeve, but…I remember it well. First because he seemed really unhappy, and second because he actually complained about it, which was something he rarely ever did.” He’d griped about Mr. Tamogami being coldhearted, even though the two of them had been such good friends. They’d found time to hang out in the office together even when Emon had been busy. But I guess it was inevitable. People who move away always forget where they came from… But the people who stay always remember the ones who left, gossiping as if they’d seen them just yesterday. “Huh…look at that customer.” Musubu, whose hands had been practically flying at the register as they had been chatting, stopped abruptly. He stared at the door, concerned about something. Wide and round behind his lenses, his eyes were wavering as they followed the movements of one particular customer. Past the register, down an aisle. And beyond. He was holding his breath and straining to hear something. Only his eyes moved, swaying like a single leaf floating on the water’s surface. “Minami, is that guy a regular customer?” “Uh…I don’t know him, but…” “Is that…so…?” Musubu seemed really worried about him for some reason, so Minami strained to get a look. He was an old man, with white hair and a slightly bent back. Was he in his midseventies, maybe? Deep wrinkles were carved in sharp relief on his face, and his eyes were sunken. He seemed impatient for some reason. Minami could sense his irritation by the look in his eye and the pace of his gait, and it caused her to shudder. Anyone who works at a bookstore for a long time will be able to identify shoplifters. Recently, it hadn’t been just young kids—older people who were struggling to make ends meet had been turning to shoplifting, too. Looking carefully at the coat the man was wearing, she could see that the hem and sleeves were starting to fray with age. Maybe… Musubu was still silently lost in thought. Leaving him behind, Minami began casually following the man. Without so much as glancing at the books and magazines on the first floor, the man began to climb the central staircase that led to the children’s section on the second story. Koumoto Books had always put effort into stocking children’s books, and their selection on the second floor rivaled even the collections of their large competitors, something Minami was privately proud of. However, Emon had also died there. Some of the visiting customers were interested in seeing the scene of the accident, and they would take it upon themselves to climb to the second floor, then ask Minami and the other workers gruesome questions like “About where did the owner pass away?” Minami had told the other part-timers to politely decline to answer such inquiries, so this man should not have known exactly where on the second floor Emon had died. Despite that, he had beelined for the spot and stopped there. He’s…not a shoplifter? Minami’s chest tightened. Her suspicion toward the old man transformed into something much darker and heavier. Why did he stop right there? That’s where the boss collapsed. When she had arrived at the shop after the accident, his body had already been removed, and the police had been investigating the scene. But Emon’s bloodstain had still remained. The man was now squinting at the top of the bookshelf, twisting his face as he looked up. With seeming difficulty and pain, he stretched his neck out and stared intensely; his wrinkled face warped steadily with emotion, and he grew terribly distressed. He looked tense enough to shout something at any second. The man was staring at the shelf that held the children’s dictionaries and illustrated reference books—the very ones that had fallen on Emon’s head and taken his life. Minami’s neck stiffened, and a cold sweat broke out on her palms. Her heart was pounding fast. The man stood on tiptoe and reached a hand out toward the shelf. “!” Minami gasped when she saw the wounds that ran from his palm down to his wrist. There are so many cuts, it’s like he was clawed or bitten— His wounded hand was heading for the top shelf. The man was of about average height for his age, maybe 165 or 166 centimeters. His back was slightly bent, but with effort, he stretched up on tiptoe to grasp an illustrated reference book on the top shelf. Though it was a book for children, it was quite heavy and thick. He’s standing so awkwardly that it could slip out of his hand and hit his head while he’s trying to grab it. Then it’ll be the boss’s accident all over again! An image of an avalanche of books crashing down on the man flashed through Minami’s mind, and her whole body tensed up. Watch out! “Sir? If there’s a book you need, I’ll get it for you.” She called out to him as politely as possible, taking care not to let her suspicion show on her face. The man’s scarred hand trembled, and he turned to face her. Face still racked with tension, he glared at her with sunken eyes. The intensity of his world-weary gaze made her flinch. Minami had dealt with many elderly customers. Occasionally, one would start shouting all of a sudden, as if a switch had been flipped, so Minami was on guard now. But she smiled with all her might and asked, “Which book shall I get down?” The man’s shoulders hitched again in surprise, and his dry, cracked lips opened slightly before snapping shut again. He pulled his injured hand into the sleeve of his coat as if to hide it, his expression hesitant and uneasy, until finally speaking in a hoarse, quiet voice. “…It’s not here.” “Um?” I don’t understand. He looked like he was reaching out desperately to take a book, though. Is the title he wants not here? “What sort of book might it be? I’ll search for it.” When she asked that, the man’s strained, frightened expression collapsed into a look of sorrow. With a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth, he mumbled hopelessly, “…No, it’s fine. You won’t find it.” “But, sir…” She was starting to feel dejected, without so much as a guess as to what the man could possibly be searching for. “I’m sure we have that book here in the store.” Suddenly, someone spoke from behind her. She turned around in surprise to find Musubu bounding over, his eyes sparkling brightly behind his glasses and his hair fluttering softly as he moved. Hang on, what did he just say?! He can’t possibly know the title from our exchange just now. The customer’s eyes were also wide open. Still beaming, Musubu reassured him, “I’ll bring it over to you in a moment, so if you would be so kind, please wait here for a bit.” After announcing that clearly, he turned his luminous eyes toward Minami. “Ms. Tsuburaya, would you help me, please?” She bowed to the customer as Musubu started walking, then took off after him. “Hang on, where are you going? What do you mean, help you?” “Well, I guess I mean that I want your help finding the book the customer wants. I got a hint, but I’m not quite sure what we’re looking for.” “What? You don’t even know where it is, but you told him you’d bring it to him? You’re unbelievable.” Feeling as if she might start shouting at any moment, Minami desperately tried to keep her tone in check. I knew this kid was a weird one! He can’t be trusted! “You turn around right now and go apologize,” she insisted. “Wait a minute, please. I can’t possibly do it on my own, but if you work with me, I have a feeling we can find the book, Ms. Tsuburaya.” She had no idea why he was so confident. With a stern expression, she asked, “…What was the hint?” His face softened with relief, “First, it’s something ‘big, sharp, and scary.’” “Huh?” Minami was stunned. Musubu continued in a flowing tone of voice, “A ‘story of long, long, long ago.’” “Wait a second.” “It’s ‘not here anymore.’” “Not here?” “No, apparently it’s in the ‘tearoom.’” “Tearoom…?” Where is that? “There’s an ‘ocean’ and ‘bird bones,’ and it’s in a ‘blue mausoleum.’” Minami scowled with her head in her hands, when suddenly she had a realization. The ocean and bird bones? Could it be?! Musubu grinned. “Ah, you’ve got it?” She didn’t answer; she simply walked off, her lips still pursed. I thought for sure he was joking around. But bird bones— She headed straight down an aisle on the second floor all the way to an office at the other end, and she opened the door. The gray room behind it was about eleven meters square and enclosed by undressed concrete walls. It contained a sofa, a side table, an office desk, and a bookshelf. On the shelf sat miscellaneous books of various sizes and genres. A single painting of about A4 size hung on the wall across from the bookshelf. It depicted huge, white bird bones that dominated an ocean beach landscape. Musubu must have been entering the office for the first time, because when he saw the painting, he mumbled, “So this is where the ocean and bird bones are…” Then he asked Minami, “All right, and the tearoom?” “…The boss often used to have tea in here, and everyone jokingly called it the Koumoto Café, so…” The second-floor office was like the boss’s second home, and there he would thoughtfully serve all sorts of drinks to suit his guests’ tastes, from black tea and coffee to green and herbal tea. When Minami had first visited the room in middle school, even she’d been served sweet tea by Emon, which she’d drunk with tearful gratitude. Her throat tightened, and her fingers shook a little; even now, she felt as though she might glimpse a phantom of the man smiling at her from the other side of the steam rising from her cup. Thankfully, Musubu didn’t notice her trembling, as he was examining the wall instead. “I see—so this must be the ‘blue mausoleum,’ huh?” Below the painting was a blue storage chest. He got on his knees, opened it, and dug through the contents. He set many old, beat-up books on the floor beside him before hauling one out with both hands, a sparkle in his eyes. “Got it!” Minami had been lost in memories of the past, but when she saw Musubu holding up a book like a piece of treasure, she came back to herself. “Hang on! Enoki, that’s—” “I’m going to go give it to the customer.” “Wait, Enoki!” By the time she called out to stop him, he had rushed out of the office, book in hand. She chased after him in a panic. What do I do? If Enoki gives him a book like that, the customer’s probably going to think he’s making fun of him and get mad. Up ahead of her, the anxious Minami could see Musubu handing over the volume to the elderly man with a broad grin, and she could hear his cheerful voice. “My apologies for the wait. I believe this is what you were looking for, sir.” He was holding an illustrated reference book for children. On the cover of the large-format book was the title The Field Guide of Extinct Animals, accompanied by images of animals like dinosaurs, a Tasmanian tiger, and a dodo bird. “Something big, sharp, and scary.” “A story of long, long, long ago.” “Not here anymore.” Sure enough, the book did match the “hints” Musubu had mentioned. But the reference book in his hands had a stained cover with faded print, and the pages were warped and wavy. A piece of paper with the word Sample written on it in red was stuck to the cover, which had been laminated with a clear film. It was Koumoto Books’s policy to put worn and damaged books on the shelf as display samples. The idea was to leave out some titles that were all right to soil, especially in the children’s corner, where kids often dirtied them. The volume Musubu had fished from the blue storage box seemed to have been one such title, but it was quite old and badly damaged all over. It was clear at a glance that it had reached the end of its lifetime even as a display book. There was no way they could sell such a worn-out, unfit copy to a customer. She felt a rush of perspiration as she interjected from beside Musubu. “I’m so sorry, sir—he’s new; he only joined our staff the day before yesterday.” She began apologizing. The man, who had been wearing a pained look until this moment, suddenly opened his sunken eyes wide and stared at the reference book with the Sample sticker as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His lips, arms, and shoulders were all trembling. His expression was not one of anger or disappointment, but rather one filled with deep emotion. Minami fell silent. A faint pool of tears even welled up in his wrinkle-bound eyes. His slim, bony, scarred-up hand emerged slowly from the sleeve of his coat, and he extended it to accept the Field Guide from Musubu. As he took the hefty tome, the man’s hands jerked downward, and his eyes filled further with tears, as if even the weight itself had an emotional impact. And then he spoke in a tear-choked voice. “That’s right… I was looking for this. I was certain it had been thrown away long ago, but it was still here…” The man embraced the book lovingly with hands covered in scars and wrinkles. As Minami watched, the muscles in Musubu’s face relaxed, as though a beloved old friend were stroking him like a precious object. “It’s been a long time. Have you been well?” “You’ve really grown.” It was almost as if he could hear those words being said aloud. Behind his glasses, his big eyes narrowed joyfully, and his mouth, which still retained some of its childlike innocence, spread into a broad smile. When the man opened the cover carefully with trembling fingers, he found an image of a tyrannosaurus accompanied by some small writing. Looking down at the illustration, the man’s face creased again as he bit his lip and blinked some tears away. Minami had absolutely no idea what was going on. But in the seven years she’d worked part-time at Koumoto Books, she had never seen a customer so happy to receive a title she’d located for them—had never seen anyone so joyous. To this man, that stained, worn-out Field Guide was the most important book in the world. As he blinked and sniffled over and over, he turned the pages with his scarred hands. “That’s right—I wanted to read this book. I wanted to see it again…,” he muttered. Then he told them an old story involving the book. The old man’s name was Michijirou Furukawa, and he was a veterinarian in a neighboring town. He had received the injuries on his hands from being scratched and bitten by his patients during treatment. Minami was beginning to grasp the situation. The fraying on his coat, too, was thanks to scratches from the cats he was caring for in his own home. His wife had cautioned him that it looked unbecoming, but he was inclined to be frugal, so he had told her he couldn’t throw away something he could still wear. When Michijirou was still a child, a woman named Natsu Koumoto, the founder of Koumoto Books, had been the proprietor here. Natsu had lost her husband in the war and had started a bookstore in this town while raising her young child. At the time, the splendid three-story bookstore had been the pride of the town. From the very first day it opened, everyone had gone there, and it was crowded with people. They said that if you went to Koumoto Books, you could find any sort of book you were looking for. “My family was poor, you see… There were a lot of us children, and we could never get our parents to buy us luxury items like books. That’s why on the way home from school, I would walk one hour to Koumoto Books and stand here reading. It was my greatest joy as a child.” On one of those trips, he had encountered The Field Guide of Extinct Animals. The cover full of illustrations of animals he had never seen before had drawn him in at first glance, and he had read it eagerly from cover to cover. He’d been thrilled by the realistically painted tyrannosaurus, triceratops, dodo, and Tasmanian tiger, and he never tired of gazing at them. Once he knew about this reference book, going to Koumoto Books became that much more fun. Whether he was sitting in class at school or helping out at home, he thought only of wanting to get back there and read more of it. The reference book was staggeringly expensive and would have been absolutely out of reach for a family that would have struggled to pay for an ordinary book. Michijirou didn’t even get any spending money. “But I was plenty satisfied simply knowing that it would be there, like a great treasure, if I just went to Koumoto Books.” Even on days when it was drizzling rain or when a cold wind was blowing or when the snow had piled up deep enough to bury his ankles, he still wanted to enjoy the book, so he would hurry down the road to Koumoto Books with red cheeks. “Ah, I want to read it right now. I want to read!” And after he would arrive at the usual place and pick up the reference book to begin turning its pages, it was all bliss. The Tasmanian tiger’s fangs were incredibly sharp and strong. Both the triceratops and the tyrannosaurus walked the earth in the distant past, and they left behind gigantic footprints in the ground. Although the dodo had wings, for some reason it just tottered around and couldn’t fly. To Michijirou, it seemed as if the creatures might leap out of the open pages at any second. It was fun and exciting. But one day, he realized one of the women working in the shop was watching him. She was tall and thin and wore glasses, with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail on the back of her head. She always stood up perfectly straight, as if she had a ruler down her back, and her expression was always so stern, as if she was angry, so Michijirou was afraid of her. That woman was staring right at him. She must be upset because I’ve just been standing here reading every day. Whenever she drew near, his heart pounded, because he knew that one day she would throw him out and tell him to never come back again, that if he wanted the book, he had to bring money and buy it. He didn’t know what he would do if that should happen. Just thinking about it made his chest tighten and made him feel lonely. Many children besides Michijirou stood around reading in the children’s section, but their parents bought them books when they came to meet them. Michijirou was probably the only one who had never bought a book, and the sense of inferiority he felt led him to close the reference book and sneak off down the stairs whenever he caught sight of that scary female employee. Whenever that happened, he would feel miserable and want to cry. Sometimes an employee in a student uniform would come over to play with the kids in the children’s corner. He was really good at reading aloud and was very popular with the children. Whenever he appeared, they would all shout for his attention. “Ah, it’s Mr. Kanesada!” “Mr. Kanesada, read this book!” The children would put books in his hands, and Mr. Kanesada would start reading, skillfully changing his voice to play all the characters, and even the children who were reading on their own would come over to listen. These were the only times when Michijirou would also stop turning his pages and stealthily incline his ear. The young man in the school uniform was Kanesada Koumoto, the son of the owner. One time, when Michijirou had been the only one in the children’s section, Kanesada had spoken to him genially. “Hey, is that interesting?” He nodded stiffly. “Great. Well, take your time with it.” He smiled, then left him alone and at ease. Thus, whenever Kanesada was there, Michijirou felt relieved. Whenever the scary lady was there, however, he felt glum. “That lady was Kanesada’s mother, Natsu, the founder of the store, you know.” The reason why he knew that, he told them, his eyes narrowing with nostalgia as he spoke, was because of what had happened after that—the extremely shocking incident that had followed. The day that it happened, he’d walked an hour on the way home from school as usual and arrived at Koumoto Books. Other kids were standing around reading in the children’s book corner, and he didn’t see any staff nearby. Thank goodness… Relieved, Michijirou went over to the usual bookcase and leaned down to pull The Field Guide of Extinct Animals off the lowest shelf. But his beloved Field Guide was nowhere to be found. Huh? Did someone buy it? His mind went blank. It was a new publication with an outrageous price tag. The library at his school definitely didn’t have it. If someone had purchased the reference book, he would no longer be able to read it at all. His heart was pounding, and he broke out in a cold sweat. Could it really have been purchased? Maybe it got put in a different spot by mistake? Holding his breath, he swept his gaze steadily over the bookcase from top to bottom, then felt another wave of despair creep over him. “It had been moved to the very top shelf, you see. It was tall enough that it would have been difficult for even an adult to fetch without using a stepladder. For a kid, that was out of the question.” He looked up at his beloved book, which now seemed like a phantom flower blooming at the summit of a mountain, impossible to touch or smell. He was convinced it had been moved to such a high place so that he couldn’t access it anymore, since he had been coming in every day to stand around and read. With that thought, his eyes grew hot with emotion, and his chest felt as if it would split open with sorrow. He had no money, and he knew he was in the wrong for only ever reading without buying, so he couldn’t say anything to the staff. When he thought about not being able to read the book, Michijirou felt as if all the fun and joy in his daily existence had been ripped out by the roots, as if a gaping, dark hole had suddenly opened up under him. He was lonesome and heartbroken and miserable, and he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Tears flooded his eyes, and then someone offered him a book from off to the side. “You must be looking for this.” Reflected in his blurry field of vision was the reference book he was sure he had lost. A piece of paper with the word Sample in red letters was affixed to the cover. The person holding it out to him was the scary lady with the stern gaze. “This copy is for trial reading, so you can read it as much as you like.” The woman’s face was the same as always, strict and tense. Her voice was stiff, too. But when Michijirou was too bewildered to take the book, she pressed it into his arms. “Here you go. “When you grow up, come back and buy lots of books, okay?” With that, she stood up straight and walked away. Holding the “sample” book in his hands, Michijirou felt like crying again, this time for a completely different reason. “That’s when I realized Natsu was the owner. It also became clear to me that even though she always stood there with a severe look on her face, she was actually watching to make sure all the children in her shop were okay. I’m certain she was concerned about me as well.” Natsu had lost her husband in the war. During wartime, all amusements had been prohibited. It had been a dark and painful era, when you couldn’t even read a book—Natsu, who had wanted nothing more than to read, had decided to open her own bookstore once things were peaceful. A place where she would be surrounded by so many books that a lifetime wouldn’t be enough to read them all; a place the people of her town would get excited to visit because it would have any and every kind of book they might want to read; a place where they could encounter splendid new books, too—that was the kind of store she’d wanted to build. Still, young Michijirou didn’t fully understand all the details about Natsu he overheard from the adults who visited Koumoto Books. But at the same time, he no longer thought of her as the scary shop lady. The eyes behind her glasses now looked very earnest, sincere, and beautiful. Once, he’d asked Natsu what her favorite book was, and she’d informed him that it was the stories her deceased husband had told to her during wartime. Her husband had improvised a tale every night for his wife, who was desperate to read something. To Natsu, her husband, Soratsugu, was a special book all her own. She’d told Michijirou that Kanesada had gotten his skill at reading aloud from Soratsugu. Her story touched him. He thought this reference book, with Sample written on it in big, red letters, was his own special and precious book. When Michijirou advanced to his third year of middle school, he was old enough to get a job, so he wasn’t able to visit Koumoto Books as frequently. Nevertheless, he kept going until he graduated from middle school. Every time he visited, he would take The Field Guide of Extinct Animals in his hands and flip through its pages. It was his special book, after all, the one guaranteed to make him happy. Someday, I’m going to come buy this book from here. I’m going to hand over my money to Ms. Natsu, then tell her to please give me this book. This was what he vowed to himself as he headed to Tokyo to find a job at age fifteen, but daily life in the printing factory where he was first employed proved harsh. He worked overtime on top of overtime with no breaks and sent almost his entire paycheck back to his family as soon as he got it, with little for himself. Ultimately, his body was broken after five years of work, and the company fired him. “My dreams and hopes had all been crushed… I came back to this town feeling miserable… And when I visited Koumoto Books for the first time in five years, I felt even worse. I was supposed to save up my money and buy lots of books to pay back the kindness I had received, but Ms. Natsu had already passed away. On top of that, all I had done was accumulate debt, without knowing when I would be able to work again… My future was bleak. I thought I would be better off dying, too, like the extinct animals in the reference book. I felt then that seeing the book might be some comfort.” A broken man, Michijirou had staggered through the shop and climbed the stairs up to the children’s book corner, thinking that surely the book wouldn’t be there anymore. “It was.” As he spoke that one phrase packed with a thousand emotions, Michijirou’s voice wavered and his eyes watered. “It had gotten quite damaged since I had last read it five years earlier, and there were even some pages that were torn on the edges. Even so, to see that my precious Field Guide was still where I left it was— Well, it set me trembling.” The heat had risen steadily through his throat and eyes, and he’d fought back the rising tears again and again. When he’d found the reference book again, he’d picked it up, blinking repeatedly and shaking slightly. He’d turned the pages. Recalling the happy boyhood days he’d spent with the book, he’d turned and turned. “It was almost as if I could hear the book encouraging me, telling me I wasn’t extinct just yet. As if it was saying there was still work I could do, that I was just getting started, that I could still give it my all and start anew.” Michijirou’s eyes were red, and his voice was filled with passion. Beside him, Musubu listened with an expression of joy and satisfaction. Every so often, he nodded slightly, as if he was listening to the whisperings of the Field Guide that Michijirou was holding with such care. “You really did your best.” “How admirable. You never gave up, did you?” “I remember you.” Minami hurried to shake the thought off, chiding herself that it was impossible. There’s no way he can actually hear the voices of books. Even at a time like this, the book can’t possibly be speaking. She was mad at herself for even entertaining the idea. But there was no doubt that The Field Guide of Extinct Animals had given Michijirou courage. After he saw the book again, he began working and attending night school and went on to university to become a veterinarian. Now his children were grown, and he was still running his small clinic by himself. “Neither my son nor my daughter became vets, so the clinic I started will end with me. I’ll really be an extinct animal after all… I’ll close up shop after my body becomes too weak to work… I’ve really been feeling my age lately… But I’m glad that I encountered this field guide and that I was able to become who I am today… I’ve got nothing but appreciation for Koumoto Books. It’s hard to believe that not only Kanesada in the second generation, but the third-generation owner, Emon, died so young, too…” He said that as his life got busy, he’d stopped going out of his way to visit Koumoto Books from the next town over. When he learned that Emon had died and the store would be closing, he’d felt the same astonishment he’d had as a child when the field guide wasn’t in its usual place. He’d wondered if perhaps the “sample” copy was still there. A copy of The Field Guide of Extinct Animals he’d purchased was already on his bookshelf at home, but that particular display copy was full of happy memories from his childhood. That special book had encouraged him as a young man and helped him to move ahead with his life. Before Koumoto Books disappeared, he’d wanted more than anything to find out whether that sample copy was still around. With that single, burning desire, Michijirou had stepped foot into the bookstore he fondly remembered for the first time in more than thirty years. He’d headed straight for the second story and had been overwhelmed with emotions when he saw that the children’s reading corner was still there, same as ever. The Field Guide of Extinct Animals hadn’t been with the other display books or on the shelf, and he’d felt sadness spread over him as he thought, Of course not… He realized that, now that he was an adult, he could probably reach the top shelf, and he had extended a hand toward it. This was the peculiar movement Minami had witnessed from Michijirou. Musubu spoke in his cheerful voice. “This book holds a lot of memories, as far as Koumoto Books is concerned, so Emon set it aside. He probably had a hunch that someday someone might come looking for it.” Not even Minami had known that, and she felt her chest tighten at the thought. She scrunched her lips together to keep herself from asking him how he could possibly have been aware of that. Deeply moved, Michijirou mumbled, “Is that so…? But how did you know I was searching for this book?” Musubu smiled sunnily at his puzzled question. “The books told me, of course!” Michijirou’s eyes opened wide, and Minami grimaced. “We’ve got old books on display near the first-floor entrance, right? Valuable books published long ago, signed copies from authors who came to Koumoto Books, that sort of stuff. When you came into the shop, Michijirou, those old books made a real commotion. That’s how I knew. I could tell you had a deep connection with this store.” Michijirou seemed as if he didn’t entirely understand Musubu’s explanation. Of course not. Minami was taken aback at the outlandish story. But— “Thank you for visiting our shop today. This book is also happy that it was able to see you, Michijirou. Please feel free to take a photograph with it if you’d like. You could also make a sign!” When Musubu suggested that, Michijirou held out the reference book in his scarred hands and took a good look at his old friend. Looking at the book as if speaking directly to it, he answered, “I suppose… Since I came all this way, I suppose I’ll do that.” When Musubu was done showing Michijirou how the photos and signs worked, he went back down to the first floor and expressed his gratitude to Minami, who had a sullen look on her face. “Thank you very much for that. I knew from the whisperings of the other books that the one Michijirou was looking for was still in the store, but I couldn’t immediately tell where it was based on their explanations. You really helped me out by showing me where to look. Thanks to you, we were able to reunite the book and Michijirou. He was so happy!” Minami grumbled bluntly, “…Right.” We didn’t reunite anyone. We just gave Michijirou a book, you weirdo. Everything Musubu had said just stressed her out. He kept blabbering on with unclouded eyes, seemingly unaware of Minami’s mixed feelings. “I bet there’s been all sorts of drama at Koumoto Books over its many years. With both the purchased books and the ones that remained… I’m sure we’ll work to help lots of people meet books here until the very last day. I’m looking forward to it!” “……” Musubu considered Michijirou being able to reunite with the book from his memories a real achievement. This was despite the fact that among the tomes that had rained down on Emon, a new copy of The Field Guide of Extinct Animals on the very top shelf had been the one to deliver the fatal blow. Even Minami understood that she did not need to tell Michijirou that. But could this harmless, bespectacled high schooler know other things she wasn’t aware of? Surely it had been a coincidence that the book that had sealed the fate of Emon, the owner of the last bookstore in town, had been The Field Guide of Extinct Animals, right? Moreover, the painting of the bird bones that decorated the office where the sample copy had been stashed—its title was Extinction. “This piece is titled…Extinction.” The day Minami had first conversed with the owner in that office, he’d smiled gently and told her that. “It’s a lovely painting, isn’t it?” “My father made it. He was the previous owner.” She had stared with calm, clear eyes at the painting of huge bird bones towering over the beach. It was beautiful and intense—but to Minami, it also looked desolate and a little frightening. “Who killed Emon?” She was drawn back to the words Musubu had uttered. At that moment, he must have heard a response from the volumes lined up on the shelves. Assuming that books really could talk, they probably would have told him something. The truth about the boss’s death? With a stiff, tight face, she mumbled, “Hey… Enoki, can you really…?” Can you really hear the voices of books? She almost asked it aloud. “Yeah, what’s up?” Musubu asked, his tone carefree. “It’s nothing.” Minami turned away from him. She felt her cheeks quickly growing hot, embarrassed to have almost uttered such a stupid question. There’s no way books can talk and no way he can hear them.