‘OK. That’s the end of today’s lesson. See you tomorrow.’
At the sound of the teacher’s voice, all the students simultaneously pushed their chairs back and got noisily to their feet.
‘Ugh, it’s finally over.’
‘I’m starving.’
‘Do you have club today?’
The classroom was filled with a cacophony of voices. Sayo Yuzuki also stood up, neatly packing her textbook, notebook, and pencil into her bag. She glanced in the direction of the window and clocked the one empty seat amid all the ruckus.
‘Absent again . . .’
It was, of course, the seat belonging to Rintaro Natsuki.
His not being there didn’t make any difference to the atmosphere in the classroom; he wasn’t one to cast much of a shadow. Nobody was particularly bothered by his absence. And until a few days ago, Sayo had been the same as everyone else.
But now things were different.
She could tell herself that it was because she was the class rep, or that she lived near him and needed to deliver his homework, but she knew that wasn’t the real reason. The old image of Rintaro – that quiet boy with no presence and his nose perpetually in a book – floated into her mind. But now in the image he was accompanied by a ginger tabby cat.
‘Hey, is Natsuki absent again?’
Sayo turned to see who had spoken. Just outside the door was a tall boy from the year above. Ryota Akiba, captain of the basketball team, and brainiest student in the senior year, smiled at her. He was excessively cheery, attracting the ardent gaze of many of the female students.
‘What do you want, Akiba?’
Sayo regarded him coldly.
Being on the student council together, the two were used to being in regular contact with each other, but today Sayo had no patience for his cockiness. She was never one for diplomacy when feelings were concerned; she was being pointedly unfriendly, but Akiba seemed amused.
‘Seems Natsuki hasn’t been coming to school. That’s a problem.’
‘That doesn’t sound very convincing coming from the senior who went AWOL along with him.’
‘Hey, I’m offended! All I did was pay a visit to a poor boy in need of some cheering up. He lost his grandpa, you know.’
Akiba winked at a passing girl. His tactlessness made Sayo roll her eyes.
‘OK, well, if you’re so into cheering him up, perhaps you’d like to pay that poor boy another visit and deliver his homework? I have yesterday’s handouts here too.’
‘What? You’re not going to take them?’
‘I don’t know how to cheer up a boy who’s grieving over his grandpa. Maybe this is a situation best left to another boy.’
‘I hate to say it, but Natsuki and me – we have nothing in common – brains, athleticism, personality – anything. We don’t understand each other at all.’
The smile didn’t leave Akiba’s face.
‘That’s just how it is,’ he concluded. ‘If you bought that book from his bookshop, then shouldn’t you be the one to go?’
His eye was on the large volume that Sayo was holding.
‘And by the way,’ he added, ‘I had no idea that the esteemed vice-captain of the wind ensemble club was a connoisseur of vintage books.’
‘When I saw my classmate holed up in his bookshop reading, I thought I’d try reading something too. But every time I open it, my shoulders get horribly stiff. There are so many words. And so many pages!’
‘Jane Austen was a good choice, though.’ Akiba’s tone changed slightly. ‘It’s a great introduction to literature, and it’s aimed at women. Good for Natsuki.’
A soft light gleamed in Akiba’s eyes.
Damn it, thought Sayo, sighing to herself. When book-lovers talked about books, their faces seemed to light up.
A little bewildered, she gripped her copy of Pride and Prejudice a little tighter.
*
‘OK, I’ll leave the rest to you, Rin-chan.’
The sound of the engine almost drowned out his aunt’s perky voice, as her white Fiat 500 pulled away.
It was dusk and the sun was slipping away; the clear blue winter sky was turning a deep shade of pink.
Rintaro watched the little car disappear into the distance, cheerfully waving so as not to cause her any concern. The moment he saw it turn the corner and disappear he let out a huge sigh.
‘Please don’t call me Rin-chan, Auntie . . .’ he muttered.
His aunt’s voice still rang in his ears:
‘Rin-chan, you really need to get all your stuff packed and ready to move, OK?’
Since his grandfather died, his aunt had been visiting him every day. Now she’d decided his moving day. Rintaro had grown to like his optimistic aunt more than he’d expected to. She was charmingly plump with a short stature, and as she squeezed herself into her tiny white Fiat she reminded Rintaro of a friendly dwarf in one of his old picture books. She was an extremely efficient worker, and the clearing of his grandfather’s rooms was already well on the way.
‘You know, if you live your life shut away in your room like this, it’s like giving up completely,’ she’d told him – words that Rintaro knew were meant out of love. He knew she was right; he couldn’t just hang around the bookshop for ever, but he found himself frozen in inaction.
He’d just seen his aunt off when he spotted the class rep on the other side of the street. It felt as if he’d been rescued.
‘What a rare sight: a hikikomori spotted in the outdoors.’
She came over, her customary spring in her step.
‘On your way home from school?’
‘Not exactly. Absent again, weren’t you? What the hell, Natsuki?’
Even though Sayo’s gaze was cold, Rintaro found he didn’t mind being on its receiving end. He quickly changed the subject.
‘That was my aunt,’ he said, looking up the road. ‘She came to tell me to get ready for the move. The removal firm’s coming the day after tomorrow.’
‘Wow. That’s soon!’
Sayo looked genuinely surprised.
‘It’s been almost a week since Grandpa died. I guess a poor little high-school student like me can’t be left alone for ever.’
‘And yet you act just as if it’s all happening to someone else. You’re so calm about it.’
‘I’m not calm at all.’
‘Here you are again, stewing over things all alone as usual. If you don’t stop thinking for a moment, your brain is going to overheat.’
Sayo had pretty much nailed it. Rintaro grimaced.
‘Well, at least this is the last time you’ll have to deliver my homework to me.’
‘This isn’t your homework, by the way.’
Sayo held up the book she was carrying.
‘I really enjoyed it.’
It was Rintaro’s turn to be surprised.
‘You finished it already?’
‘Yep. Thanks to you I ripped through it in two days. Barely slept.’
She pretended to be annoyed, but there was a trace of a smile around her eyes. She looked towards the bookshop.
‘Recommend me something else. If you’re moving in two days, I’d better buy a few of them.’
She went in without waiting for a reply. Rintaro hurried after her, but not two steps beyond the threshold he collided with her. Sayo had stopped in her tracks.
‘What’s up?’ he asked, but he immediately saw what it was.
‘Young love, Mr Proprietor?’
Waiting inside was a certain large tabby cat with ginger fur and eyes of jade green. There was no trace of a smile on its face. It stood there in the central aisle under the bluish-white glow of the light that fell on the bookshelves.
‘Good to see you’ve nothing important to do as usual,’ it continued.
‘It so happens I’m busy getting ready to move.’
‘That’s an obvious lie. Clearly you haven’t even started yet.’
Having dismissed Rintaro’s objections, the tabby cat turned to Sayo and bowed its head with great gallantry.
‘It’s a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for taking such care of the proprietor here.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ replied Sayo, obviously rather confused, but enjoying the situation nevertheless. This was the kind of adaptability that made her an excellent class rep.
‘I didn’t expect to see you again.’
‘Would you have preferred not to?’
‘No, I was really happy to meet you. I had a wonderful time.’
The cat shook its whiskers in delight at Sayo’s earnest response, but then quickly turned its jade eyes on Rintaro.
‘She’s a rather open-minded and charming young woman. Such a contrast to the backward-looking, conservative youngster before me, who can’t even act on his own feelings.’
‘I won’t deny that, but it doesn’t mean you’re free to trespass in my shop. Every time you turn up without warning it doesn’t exactly fill me with glee.’
‘No worries,’ said the cat casually. ‘This’ll be the last time.’
‘The last?’
‘Right.’ The cat paused for a breath before continuing. ‘I need your help again.’
*
‘This is the final labyrinth,’ said the tabby cat, matter-of-factly.
Once again, Rintaro and Sayo found themselves walking along the inexplicably endless central aisle of Natsuki Books, its imposing stacks of books to either side of them, and lamps at intervals overhead.
‘You’ve freed many books so far. Thank you for that.’
‘Unusual, coming from you.’
Rintaro was a little taken aback by the cat’s lack of venom.
‘Is this all in preparation for you leaving us?’
‘Partly.’
As if to object to the cat’s roundabout answers, Rintaro’s tone became bolder.
‘I was surprised when you turned up out of thin air. Are you going to surprise me again now by suddenly disappearing?’
‘That’s out of my paws. Cats are, by nature, creatures of will. They don’t come and go at the convenience of human beings.’
‘At least the other cats I know don’t have such a sharp tongue as you.’
‘Such a naive young boy! There are plenty of cats just like me.’
The tabby didn’t even bother to turn its head. Rintaro gave a pained smile.
‘I’m going to miss your charming way with words.’
‘Don’t get ahead of yourself. This is a conversation for after we’ve visited the next labyrinth.’
The tabby suddenly stopped and looked back at Rintaro. There was a seriousness to its gaze that Rintaro hadn’t seen before.
‘The master of the third labyrinth is kind of a pain in the arse.’
The cat turned its jade eyes on Sayo, who had been listening in silence.
‘What?’ she asked, frowning slightly.
‘Our final adversary is a little different from the ones we’ve already met.’
‘Are you trying to tell us it’s dangerous? Get us to turn back?’
The cat ignored the question and began to performatively wash its face.
‘This adversary is extremely unpredictable. I’m sure that Mr Proprietor here will be even more concerned for your safety.’
‘So now you’re on Natsuki’s side?’ Sayo asked.
‘Most certainly not,’ the cat retorted.
‘No?’
‘Your presence here blindsided me. But I can see now that it wasn’t an accident.’
Sayo and Rintaro looked at each other.
‘You are likely here for a reason, so my hope is that you’ll remain with us for our final journey.’
‘Hey . . .’ Rintaro was starting to panic.
Ignoring him completely, the cat turned to Sayo and bowed its head.
‘If anything happens to me,’ it said, in its deep and powerful voice, ‘please take care of Mr Proprietor.’
Sayo was silent for a moment, but then responded with her trademark charming smile.
‘So you want my help?’
‘Mr Proprietor is reasonably intelligent. But because he lacks courage he tends to hesitate at the crucial moment. He’s unreliable.’
‘I know what you mean.’
‘I’m aware that I’m dissing him right in front—’
Rintaro finally cut in.
‘Look, Sayo, you don’t have to go along with any of this.’
‘In the past I might not have, but now, Natsuki, I feel that if something happened to you, we’d both be in trouble.’
Taken aback at Sayo’s words, Rintaro clammed up. Sayo winked at him mischievously.
‘Because then I wouldn’t get that book recommendation I came here for.’
The tabby cat chuckled.
‘Splendid.’
And with that, it spun back round and continued to walk ahead. Without hesitation, Sayo followed. Rintaro was left with no choice but to scurry to catch them up. He was soon surrounded by a blinding white light . . .
*
The scenery on the far side of the light was different again. The first thing they saw was a long, gently meandering passageway. Size-wise it was the same as the one they had entered by, but in every other sense it was completely different. For one, there was a clear blue sky above. Unlike the dim, lamplit aisle of the bookshop, this was an outdoor structure. The walls were much taller than Rintaro so he couldn’t see beyond them on either side, but the bright sunlight overhead made the place feel open and airy. However, there was one thing that didn’t mesh with the peaceful atmosphere.
It was Sayo who reacted first.
‘Ah! What are all these?’
Her voice was shrill, almost a shriek. Although he didn’t say anything, Rintaro was just as shocked.
The walls on both sides of the passageway were made of stacks of books – but there was nothing neat or orderly about the piles. Some books were torn, others crumpled, and the ones at the bottom were completely crushed by the weight of the upper books. There appeared to be no thought at all put into the stacking system, just tall piles of books reaching high into the sky. Even if you weren’t a book-lover like Rintaro, the sight would make anyone wince.
‘Let’s go!’
Everyone stopped gawping and got a hold of themselves. But there was nothing to say. The only way to express their current feelings was through silence.
Rintaro and Sayo nodded at each other and started to walk.
Making their way through the structure was like trying to find the exit for the most poorly designed modern art exhibit. Its passageway took erratic turns, and without a clear view ahead they soon lost all sense of direction. The decaying scenery was accentuated all the more by the bright sunlight.
They had no idea how far or for how long they had been walking, when they came to a giant grey wall blocking the passageway. Sayo let out a sigh that sounded like relief.
‘A dead end?’
‘Is this it?’ asked Rintaro, stopping and looking upwards.
The giant wall before them was full of countless square windows, and its top could not be seen, disappearing into the haze way overhead. Because of the walls of books on either side, it was hard to get the full picture, but the grey wall at the end of the passageway was possibly the side of a tall skyscraper.
They advanced a few steps further to see that it was indeed a tall grey building, with a large glass doorway at its base. There was a sign above the door marked ‘Entrance’.
‘I guess that means we should go in,’ said the cat, looking decidedly unimpressed. It headed straight for the door, which slid noiselessly open in welcome. A woman in a spotless lavender-coloured suit appeared out of nowhere and bowed to the three visitors.
‘Welcome to World’s Best Books, the world’s number one publishing company.’
She had a perfectly mechanical voice to match her perfectly mechanical smile. She also had a lot of nerve introducing her own company as the world’s number one.
‘May I ask your names and the reason for your visit?’
Caught off guard by the fake cheeriness of her voice, Rintaro struggled to speak.
‘All those mounds of books outside the building, what are they?’ he managed to ask.
‘Outside the building?’
With that mechanical smile still anchored to her face, the woman tilted her head inquisitively about thirty degrees to the left. Rintaro couldn’t help being a little impressed with her precision.
‘Outside this building, there are books that are being horribly—’
‘Oh my goodness, were you walking outside?’ said the woman, putting her hand to her heart and frowning with concern. ‘I’m afraid that’s terribly dangerous. I sincerely hope you weren’t harmed in any way.’
Rintaro began to feel incredibly weary, but the cat’s calm voice was there to revitalize him.
‘Stop this, Mr Proprietor. This woman is not the one we’ve come to talk to.’
‘I suppose not,’ said Rintaro with a shrug.
The woman repeated her original question:
‘May I ask your names and the reason for your visit?’
The question was delivered without effect but Rintaro took his time before replying.
‘My name is Rintaro Natsuki. I’m here . . . to meet the president of the company . . . I guess.’
In response to Rintaro’s awkward explanation, she bowed her head and went over to the reception desk. She made a brief phone call, then came back and bowed once more.
‘Thank you for waiting. The president will see you now.’
‘Right now?’
‘Of course. You’ve come all this way to visit him.’
She delivered the information and immediately set off without waiting for Rintaro’s response.
Rintaro couldn’t tell if things were going well or badly. He had no idea what the president’s purpose was, or even whether he had any purpose at all, but at least he was free of the pointless exchange.
‘He must be a very open-minded president to agree to meet visitors who turn up unannounced this way,’ remarked Rintaro.
‘What on earth are you babbling about?’ said Sayo in his ear. ‘Company presidents are generally fat, balding men with a nasty personality. Watch out!’
Slightly disturbed by Sayo’s prejudiced statement, Rintaro followed the woman along a long straight corridor. The floor beneath their feet was made of thick black granite, polished to such a sheen that they could see their own reflection. Along the centre of this spotless gleaming floor ran a red carpet down which the woman now strode. After a while she stopped suddenly and turned to look at the three visitors.
‘From this point you will be accompanied by a different guide.’
Indeed, a little further along the red carpet stood a man in a black suit. He gave an extremely low bow to Rintaro and the others.
‘No bags or any other hand luggage are permitted beyond this point,’ he said, his voice monotone.
It went without saying that nobody was carrying any kind of hand luggage. The man simply recited his line, then without doing any kind of check turned his back on the visitors and started walking. Rintaro and Sayo exchanged glances and set off after him.
After a short while they came across another man, this time wearing a blue suit. The colour of his suit was the only thing that differentiated him from the previous guide. This man also gave an exaggerated bow.
‘No authority or business titles permitted beyond this point,’ he said, without so much as a flicker of his eyebrow.
Having recited his line, just as the black-suited man had done before him, he turned his back and walked on.
‘Is this some kind of joke?’ Rintaro asked.
The tabby cat’s response was not very encouraging:
‘I don’t think they’re the joking type around here.’
They followed the man in the blue suit until they came across the next man, this time in yellow.
‘No malice or hostility are permitted beyond this point,’ they were informed.
Rintaro was beginning to suspect the cat was correct.
They followed the yellow-suited man further down the corridor, until suddenly they emerged into a large open hall. Rintaro and Sayo cried out in surprise. The space was wide and cylindrical, so high that the ceiling was out of sight.
All around them, seemingly sprouting at random from the walls above, were hundreds of staircases, forming aerial walkways that crisscrossed and intertwined like a spider’s web. It was like looking up at the detailed internal frame of some kind of spacecraft.
‘Thank you for your patience,’ said the man in the yellow suit. He gestured towards the middle of the hall, where the red carpet ended at the doors of a lift. At the lift doors stood a man in a red suit. As Rintaro and the others approached, he bowed deeply. The doors opened to reveal a glass-walled interior.
‘The president is waiting for you,’ he said tonelessly. ‘Please get in.’
Just as the three were about to board the lift, the man in the red suit moved to block the tabby cat’s path. He gave another ceremonious bow.
‘I’m sorry, but no dogs or cats are permitted beyond this point.’
The tabby remained perfectly calm. As Rintaro opened his mouth to protest, the cat silenced him with a sharp look.
‘I told you it’d be tricky this time,’ it said, turning to Sayo. ‘I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t be comfortable letting this one go on alone.’
‘I guess that must be why I’m here,’ said Sayo. She smiled, and the faint gleam of a grin seemed to pass through the cat’s green eyes.
But then, as if to disperse any show of sentiment, the voice of the man in the red suit rang out with force.
‘Kindly press the button for the top floor.’
It turned out that there was in fact only one button in the lift. There was a large panel with a single button, rather unnecessarily bearing the words ‘Top Floor’.
In other words, there was no button to come back down . . .
‘It looks like we’ll just have to get this sorted out, and then find our own way back,’ said Rintaro with a sigh. He turned his attention to the tabby cat on the outside of the lift. There was a moment of silence.
‘I’ll be going then, partner.’
‘I’m counting on you, Mr Proprietor.’
Spurred on by the cat’s confidence, Rintaro pressed the button. The doors sprang shut, and with a gentle shudder, the lift began to move.
*
The lift shot up into one of the aerial corridors, leaving the cat and the man in the red suit far below. It ascended with increasing speed through a three-dimensional geometric structure. There were intersecting lines all around. As far as the eye could see the stairways stretched around in every direction, but there was not a soul to be seen. Perhaps it was a trompe l’oeil painting.
‘I’m glad they didn’t make us climb all those stairs,’ muttered Rintaro. ‘What a pain that would have been.’
Sayo smiled. She knew Rintaro was attempting to bring some levity to their surreal situation, even though he wasn’t very good at it.
‘It’s incredibly unsettling.’
‘Yeah, even a foul-mouthed, pointlessly pompous tabby cat is a better diversion than none at all.’
Their eyes met and they both giggled.
Outside the lift it was getting gradually darker. Although they were inside a building it was if the sun were slowly setting. The intricate structures began to fade into the darkness, and as their vision was getting poorer, it became impossible to tell whether the lift was still climbing, or if it had come to a stop.
‘At first I didn’t even care if I could get home again,’ Rintaro said quietly.
Sayo didn’t respond, but she turned to look at her friend.
‘That first time the mysterious cat took me on a journey,’ he continued, ‘I thought that if it was a dream I wouldn’t mind never waking up, and if it wasn’t a dream then I wouldn’t mind not being able ever to make it home again.’
Rintaro adjusted his glasses.
‘But ever since that cat turned up, I’ve been thinking more and more about everything that’s been going on. I feel like I’m starting to see things a little differently.’
‘If this is what brings you out of your shell, it can only be a good thing,’ Sayo said.
Rintaro smiled wryly.
‘I’m passive, I’ll admit it, but I was really trying to keep you out of danger,’ he said.
‘You know, Natsuki, sometimes you talk like you’re trying out pick-up lines. Is that a side effect of reading too many books?’
‘OK, let me rephrase. I’m sorry for getting you involved in this mess.’
‘You don’t need to apologize. I’m having a great time here. And you know what? It’s fun seeing a different side of you, Natsuki.’
‘Different how?’
‘Forget I said anything,’ she said, laughing it off.
Sayo pictured Rintaro standing up to the white-coated scholar in that strange underground laboratory. It wasn’t the first time she’d gone back to that image, but Rintaro would never know that.
Just as Rintaro was about to ask Sayo more questions, he felt the lift slowing to a stop. Once again, the door slid open noiselessly, revealing a dimly lit space beyond. It was almost impossible to make out the size or scale of the space because of how gloomy it was. However, a red carpet ran straight ahead, indicating where Rintaro and Sayo should go. At the far end was a heavy wooden door with geometric patterns carved into it. There was something very intimidating about that door.
‘Go on, Natsuki!’
‘If you’re asking me to . . .’
‘You’ll be fine.’
Rintaro wasn’t feeling brave, but he was encouraged by Sayo’s steady voice.
‘You’ve got more guts than you think, Natsuki. Especially when it comes to books. You’ve got nothing to be worried about at all. Even that kid Akiba is impressed by you.’
Rintaro was thrown by her mention of him.
‘Akiba?’
‘Yeah. He was praising you at school the other day. He’s a bit too cocky for my liking, but he’s honest.’
To Rintaro, these words were as refreshing as a clear winter sky. There was a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach which began to spread. It would be too much to call it courage, but it certainly came from the same place.
All of a sudden, he felt Sayo punch him gently in the back.
‘Just make sure you bring me back, Natsuki.’
They stepped gingerly out onto the carpet. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t nervous, but Rintaro kept his gaze straight ahead. Something told him that now was the time to act. He took a deep breath and kept walking.
*
‘You really do love books, don’t you?’
The voice of Ryota Akiba echoed in Rintaro’s ears. Rintaro was only a junior, so he’d not really had much to do with this charismatic senior. It was his usual habit to stay away from any of the older pupils when they came to the bookshop. Akiba was the star player on the basketball team, the top academically in his year, and was active on the student council. Rintaro, the hikikomori living shut up in his grandfather’s bookshop, was from another world. Rintaro had once asked Akiba in all seriousness why a successful student like him would bother visiting the lowly Natsuki Books.
‘Well, obviously because you have good books,’ he’d replied, clearly puzzled by Rintaro’s question. ‘Your grandfather must be disappointed that you don’t understand what a great place he has here.’
And with that, Akiba had begun to sing the shop’s praises.
‘There are books here that are considered masterpieces all over the world. They’ve endured for years – until now. They’re becoming more and more difficult to find in regular bookshops. But when I come here, I can find more or less anything I’m looking for.’
He rapped his knuckles on the bookshelf before him.
‘I get that bookshops might not carry something as eclectic as Andersen or Johnson, but these days even stuff written by Kafka or Camus is out of print. And it’s practically impossible to find a shop that stocks the complete works of Shakespeare.’
Akiba paused as if to consider why that was.
‘Because they don’t sell,’ he concluded. ‘Bookshops aren’t volunteer organizations. They can’t survive if they don’t make sales, and that’s why books that don’t sell just disappear. That’s why your grandpa’s shop really stands out. There’s an incredible assortment of books here on these shelves, even if they’re no longer bestsellers – in fact they take pride of place. I mean, of course it’s because it’s a second-hand bookshop, but in here I can get my hands on anything but the absolute rarest of titles.’
As he spoke he tapped on various bookshelves with his knuckles as if to emphasize his point.
‘And on top of that,’ he added with a chuckle, ‘you have here an expert guide to all of these many difficult titles.’
‘A guide?’
‘Do you have a copy of Constant’s Adolphe? I saw something about it online the other day. It’s supposed to be pretty good. I haven’t been able to find it anywhere else.’
Rintaro nodded and reached over to a bookshelf towards the back of the shop. He pulled out an old, worn book, the size of a medium-length novel.
‘Benjamin Constant. His work is famous for its psychological depiction of human behaviour – it’s pretty unique. I think this one was written in France in the early nineteenth century.’
Instead of reaching for it right away, Akiba paused to give the book and Rintaro a strange look, until he couldn’t quite control his amusement any longer. He laughed in delight.
‘You really do love books, don’t you?’
That cheery laugh of his seemed out of place at Natsuki Books.
*
‘Welcome to World’s Best Books.’
The booming voice greeted them as they ventured in through the tall, imposing door.
The room beyond the door was large, about the size of a high-school classroom. From the ceiling hung a grand chandelier; below their feet, a plush carpet that completely muffled all sounds of their footsteps. And the walls on all four sides were covered with bright red curtains.
At the far end of this luxuriously decorated room was a desk with a glossy sheen, behind which sat a thin elderly gentleman with an impressive head of white hair. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, and leaned back at ease in his black office chair, his hands resting on the desk. He regarded his two visitors calmly.
‘He’s not what I expected,’ whispered Sayo. ‘It’s weird for a company president not to be fat and balding. I bet he’s just pretending to be the president. Maybe he’s a mid-level manager working overtime.’
Rintaro grinned. He found her tactlessness fascinating.
The man behind the desk raised his right hand.
‘Please come in. I’m the company president,’ he said, gesturing towards a sofa. However, neither Rintaro nor Sayo felt like sitting. The sofa was extremely expensive-looking and covered with a thick layer of fur. The president didn’t seem bothered by their refusal to sit.
‘I really do appreciate your coming all this way to visit me. I know it must have been a difficult journey – I’m so far from the entrance, and security is extremely tight here.’
‘Our good friend wasn’t allowed to come with us.’
‘Ah,’ said the president, narrowing his eyes. ‘I’m sorry about that. I’m afraid I hate cats.’
‘Oh . . . you’re not a cat person?’
The kindly smile on the man’s face suddenly faded and gave way to a sudden volley of words.
‘No, not a cat person in the slightest. I detest them. Especially cunning ones.’
The words flashed through the air like light reflecting off a knife blade.
The president may have sensed Rintaro stiffen, but he didn’t show it.
‘I do apologize for the trouble this may have caused to my guests from Natsuki Books.’
‘You know Natsuki Books?’
‘Of course I do,’ he said, stroking his narrow chin. ‘No doubt it’s a shabby old second-hand bookshop, self-satisfied and stuck in the past. You must have piles of old-fashioned, difficult, unsellable books all over. Me, I’m envious. Sounds like running that shop must be a walk in the park, free of any pressures or responsibilities.’
The president flashed them a big grin.
It was a surprise attack – a declaration of war. Sayo winced, but Rintaro was undaunted. From the moment he’d set eyes on him, Rintaro knew there was something troubling this man. Perhaps the tabby cat was on to something.
The president continued, completely unperturbed.
‘I was fascinated to hear I had visitors from an antiquated old bookshop. It made me curious what kind of wild ravings they might share with me.’
‘You might want to rethink the decor of your office.’
‘Decor?’ the president asked. When he’d said ‘wild ravings’, he hadn’t expected cutting remarks.
‘Is this an office or a penthouse?’ Rintaro continued. ‘These chandeliers are so glittery they’d give anyone a headache, and this carpet is so plush it’s ridiculous. Such bad taste. Unless you’re doing it for a joke, I’d suggest redecorating as soon as possible.’
The president’s eyebrows moved slightly, but his smile didn’t falter.
Rintaro wasn’t finished:
‘I’m sorry if I sound rude, but my grandfather always taught me that it’s a kindness to let someone know when their behaviour’s off, even if you antagonize them by doing so. And this room is so ugly I can’t bear to look at it.’
‘Hey, Natsuki—’
Sayo hurriedly intervened. Rintaro finally stopped talking, wondering what he had just got himself into. This aggressiveness was out of character for him. He much preferred a careful, reasoned approach, even if that meant playing it safe. Above all, he valued moderate, constructive criticism. But the reason was clear to him. This time Natsuki Books – the shop itself – was being ridiculed.
The elderly president didn’t move for a moment, and then finally let out a small sigh.
‘Well, it seems I misjudged you. I had no idea there was a boy with such strong spirit at Natsuki Books.’
‘I don’t know anything about spirit. I just love books.’
‘I see.’
The president nodded generously, then seemed to think better of it. He shook his head instead.
‘Love books?’ he muttered to himself. ‘That’s a problem.’
He reached out a skinny arm towards a large button on his desk. He clicked it, and all at once the red curtains on three sides of the office began to open. Bright sunlight streamed into the room.
It took a while for Rintaro’s eyes to adjust to the glare, so he didn’t fully grasp the situation immediately. Eventually he could see that they were in a room at the top of a sky-scraper with windows on three sides. Beyond the windows there was a view of several other similar skyscrapers. Something white was pouring from the windows of the surrounding buildings and fluttering to the ground like snowflakes.
As Rintaro’s eyes adjusted to the light, he heard Sayo give a small shriek. Then as he too realized what he was looking at, he gulped. The stuff that looked like snow – cascading from all the windows, hovering for a moment in the air, and then tumbling to the ground below – each and every piece was a book.
Someone was throwing books from the windows. They were caught by the wind and scattered far and wide. The buildings looked as if they were caught in a blizzard.
But it wasn’t just the sky that was filled with books. When Rintaro and Sayo looked down from the window, the view was staggering. There on the ground were tens, hundreds of thousands of books piled up – a veritable print wasteland.
As they looked on, stunned, they realized that some of the books were passing so close to the window that if they’d reached out, they could have touched them. That was when they realized that some of the books were being thrown from the building they were standing in.
‘Do you know what that is?’ asked the president, with a smirk.
‘Not exactly, but I know I don’t like the sight of it,’ replied Rintaro.
‘That’s the new reality.’
Rintaro’s heart dropped.
‘This building houses one of the largest publishing companies of our time. Every day we publish as many books as there are stars in the sky. For the people down there.’
‘But that’s as if you’re just spewing out wads of paper for no reason other than to increase the amount of waste.’
‘That’s just how it goes,’ said the president nonchalantly. ‘We’re a huge international publisher. Every day we produce mountains of books and sell them all over the world. With the profits we make from those sales, we fund the production of more books, which we then sell. We sell more and more, and our profits steadily increase.’
The president fluttered his hand in a movement that mirrored the books passing the window. The gold rings adorning his fingers flashed in the sunlight.
Rintaro tried his best to comprehend the situation that the president was explaining, but it wasn’t an easy task. Then he recalled the messy, disorganized piles of books they’d seen on their way. That bizarre landscape, and the sight of thousands of books falling through the sky before his eyes, coupled with the president’s smooth voice, it all seemed to tie up his thoughts and drag him into a swamp of confusion. Now he understood why the woman at the reception desk had been so concerned about the danger of walking outside, he thought bitterly.
‘You’ve got to be joking,’ he said. ‘Books aren’t meant to be thrown. They’re made to be read.’
‘You are so naive.’
The president picked up a book at random from his desk.
‘Books are expendable goods. It’s my job to make sure they are consumed in the most efficient way possible. I couldn’t do this job if I was some bookworm. Anyhow—’
He abruptly spun his black desk chair round, pushed open the window closest to him, and tossed the book he was holding straight out of it. The book hung in the air for a moment as if there were something it had suddenly remembered, then quickly disappeared from view.
‘This is what we do here.’
Rintaro suddenly understood what the tabby cat had meant when it said this adversary would be different from the first two. The men he’d met in the other two labyrinths, no matter how bizarre their behaviour, were, at heart, book-lovers. By contrast, the man sitting in front of them right now didn’t feel the slightest attachment to books. He treated them as trash, and didn’t feel even the teensiest bit bad about it. This was what the cat had meant when it said the man was extremely unpredictable.
‘Natsuki, are you OK?’
It was Sayo’s voice. Rintaro turned to look and met her intense gaze. He nodded and turned back to the man in the office chair.
‘I came here today because a friend asked me to rescue some books.’
‘Rescue?’
‘That’s right. I think that means that I have to stop you.’
‘Well, that’s a stupid thing to say. I’ve already told you that this is my job.’
‘But you’re treating books as if they’re nothing but scraps of paper. If that’s the attitude of the people producing books, then nothing will reach the readers. The number of people who read books is already decreasing. If someone in your position has that kind of attitude, then the number of readers will just keep going down.’
Rintaro put forth his best argument, but the president was unmoved. Beneath his white eyebrows, his eyes were unreadable, and the slight curve of a smile on his lips simply added to his elusive air.
After a moment, his narrow shoulders vibrated ever so slightly. Then the vibrations turned into a stronger shaking, and finally the president exploded with laughter. His low-pitched chuckling filled the room.
As Rintaro and Sayo stared, the president pressed his left hand to his mouth, as if to try to suppress his laughter. He rapped a couple of times on the desk with the knuckles of his right. Finally he began to speak:
‘You really are an idiot, aren’t you? Utterly stupid.’
Even while cracking with laughter there was a bite to his words.
‘No. In fact I don’t think it’s fair to call you an idiot. You’re far from being the only one. These misconceptions are all too common these days.’
‘What misconceptions?’
‘The one that books don’t sell.’ The president laughed one more time, then continued. ‘You’re deluded if you think books don’t sell any more these days. Books sell really well. In fact, World’s Best Books is extremely successful.’
‘Is that supposed to be sarcasm?’
‘It’s not sarcasm at all. It’s fact. It’s very easy indeed to sell books – as long as you keep one fundamental rule in mind.’
The president regarded Rintaro with amusement. It was clear he was enjoying himself. As if revealing the secret of an amazing magic trick, he lowered his voice to a whisper.
‘Sell books that sell – that’s the rule.’
A curious phrase indeed. A curious phrase that had a bizarre ring to it.
‘That’s right,’ said the president. ‘Here at the world’s number one publishing company, we don’t publish books to inform or teach people. We print the books that society wants. We don’t care about issues such as messages that need to be imparted, or philosophy that needs to be handed down to the next generation. We don’t care about any harsh reality or difficult truths. Society isn’t interested in things like that. Publishers don’t need to worry about what they should be telling the world; they need to understand what the world wants to hear.’
‘It’s dangerous to be that cynical.’
‘And you have an excellent mind to have noticed that that it’s cynical.’
Chuckling, the president took a cigarette from a pack on his desk and calmly lit it.
‘And yet, that’s the reality. That’s how we’ve managed to turn a steady profit.’
Beyond the purplish curl of smoke, countless books went tumbling to the ground.
‘If you were raised in that Natsuki Books fantasyland, then you should know this: in today’s world, people don’t have the time or the money to spend on “literary masterpieces” or any fabulously long tomes. But at the same time, reading is still fashionable. It confers status. Everyone wants to brag about reading some difficult book. And so, we publish our works with these people’s needs in mind. In summary . . .’
He stuck his neck out to emphasize his point.
‘Cheap digests and abridged versions sell like crazy.’
He roared with laughter, his shoulders trembling.
‘For those readers who desire a bit of stimulation, the best way is to do it with pornographic passages or gratuitous violence. And for those who lack imagination, adding a simple “this really happened” does the trick. Your circulation is increased by several percentage points, and sales soar.’
Rintaro felt sick to his stomach.
‘And for those who never actually pick up a book, whether they can’t get their hands on one, or can’t be bothered to read, we produce information arranged by bullet point. Titles like The Five Requirements For Success or The Eight Techniques to Get Ahead In Life. People never pick up that they’re being duped, that books like these are never going to help them get ahead. But the important thing is that my goal of selling books is accomplished.’
‘Stop it.’
‘No. I’m not finished yet.’
There was no emotion whatsoever in the president’s voice. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped by several degrees. A chill ran through Rintaro, although his forehead had broken out in sweat.
The president adjusted his chair and watched Rintaro from an angle.
‘There’s a big difference between the books you value and the ones that the rest of society wants,’ he said with pity in his eyes. ‘Think back – did you ever really have customers at Natsuki Books? Who even reads Proust or Romain Rolland nowadays? Would anyone cough up their hard-earned money to buy books like those? You know what most readers are looking for in a book? Something easy, cheap and exciting. We have no choice but to adapt the form of books to suit those readers’ tastes.’
‘That’s really . . . Then, in that case . . .’
Rintaro searched desperately for the right words.
‘Books just keep losing weight.’
‘Books losing weight? That’s an interesting way of putting it. But poetic turns of phrase don’t help with book sales.’
‘It’s not all about sales. At least my grandpa believed in what he did, and kept true to his beliefs till the end.’
‘So you’re saying we should stock books that don’t sell, and die along with the world’s great works of literature? Just like Natsuki Books did?’
Rintaro glared back at the president. Glaring was all he could do.
‘Nobody’s interested in truth or ethics or philosophy. People are worn out from living. All they want is either to be stimulated or healed. The only way for books to survive in such a world is for them to metamorphose. Dare I say it? Sales are everything. No matter how great a masterpiece, if a work doesn’t sell it vanishes.’
Rintaro felt slightly dizzy and put his hand to his forehead. He touched the rim of his glasses, but as usual, no coherent thought came to him. The words he was hearing were too far beyond anything he could have imagined. He knew he could talk to his heart’s content about the value and appeal of books. But to this man before him, books had a completely different value – one that Rintaro had never considered. This man lived in an entirely different world.
‘It’s OK, Natsuki.’
It was Sayo’s voice. He felt her strong presence by his side. Sayo had stepped up and had taken a firm grip of his left arm.
‘You’re OK.’
‘I don’t feel OK, though.’
‘But you are.’
She glared at the man behind the desk.
‘Everything he’s saying is wrong. I’m certain of it.’
‘Yeah, but his logic makes sense.’
‘This isn’t about logic,’ she said decisively. ‘I don’t know anything about that. What I can say is that he sounds like he doesn’t even believe half of the things he’s telling you.’
Rintaro turned his head to look at Sayo. And in that moment, he recalled the tabby cat’s words: ‘This labyrinth runs on the power of truth. But not everything is true . . . There’s got to be a lie in there somewhere.’
Yes, that’s right, thought Rintaro. He had been overwhelmed by how extreme the man’s words had been. But something about them didn’t quite add up.
Once again, Rintaro reached up and touched his glasses frame.
‘Thinking won’t help you, Rintaro Natsuki,’ said the president serenely, his words accompanied by a thick cloud of cigarette smoke. ‘You’re still young. There are realities of life that you don’t want to accept. I, on the other hand, am intimately familiar with how the world works. Your feelings about a book don’t determine its value. The number of copies in circulation do. In other words, in our society it is the banknote that is the arbiter of value. Those who forget this rule and try to embrace something idealistic have no choice but to drop out of society altogether. It truly is a shame.’
The president spoke like a preacher – his speeches resembled sermons. It was a blatant attempt to gaslight Rintaro, to throw his chain of thought out of whack. However, Sayo’s grip on his arm was firm, as if to offer support.
As the president quietly chuckled to himself, Rintaro thought furiously.
He thought and thought, and then finally stepped forward. The president’s laughter and his thick cigarette smoke had formed a kind of fog in the air, but Rintaro seemed to cut his way through the fog. He didn’t falter.
‘It’s true that Natsuki Books isn’t your average second-hand bookshop.’
Rintaro looked at his formidable adversary behind his grand desk.
‘We don’t have many customers and we don’t sell that many books. But it’s a very special place.’
‘Yes, there’s a word for that – despair,’ said the president, shaking his head. ‘And it’s the perfect word for my current state of mind. Really, your personal sentiments are of no concern to me.’
‘But it’s not personal. Every single customer who came in the door felt the same way I do. That little second-hand bookshop was filled with my grandfather’s thoughts and feelings – anyone who stepped over the threshold could feel them. And that’s what made it special.’
‘Well, that’s vague. Nobody’s going to be convinced by an abstract argument like that. Would you mind being a bit more specific about your grandfather’s thoughts and feelings?’
‘I don’t need to explain it to you. I know – because I’m just like you.’
Rintaro’s words, delivered very quietly, had the power to stop the president in his tracks. He didn’t move again for a while. The plume of smoke that rose from between his fingers gradually thinned then finally petered out.
Eventually he narrowed his eyes slightly, and opened his mouth.
‘I don’t know what you mean by that.’
‘That’s another lie.’
The president’s eyebrows twitched.
‘You said just now that books are expendable goods. You claimed your job is impossible to do if you love books.’
‘That’s correct.’
‘That’s a lie.’
Rintaro’s voice was blunt.
A line of ash fell from the president’s cigarette.
‘You said it just now: books need to metamorphose if they are to survive. If you really just saw books as expendable goods, you would never have said that.’
‘Hmph. That’s a questionable line of reasoning.’
‘It’s all about the nuances. If you really think of books as nothing but scraps of paper then you ought to give up this job. But I hear from you that you are committed to changing the form of books so they will survive. That means you like books. That’s why you’re still sitting there. Just like my grandpa . . .’
Rintaro’s voice trailed off into a heavy silence. The room remained silent apart from the occasional swish of a book falling past the window. But there were fewer than before.
The president regarded Rintaro a while, then spun his chair around to observe the bleak landscape beyond the windows.
‘It doesn’t matter any more. It doesn’t matter what I think – we have to face reality. Books are getting thinner and thinner, and people are flocking to them. And then books need to respond to the demands of the flocks. No one can stop the cycle. And isn’t Natsuki Books proof of this? No matter how special or welcoming the atmosphere, the number of customers won’t go up. Am I wrong?’
‘Not true!’
Sayo’s voice made its way through the stuffy air of the room like a fresh breeze.
‘Natsuki Books’ customer base isn’t dying. For example we have Akiba . . . he doesn’t have the greatest personality, but he is extremely clever. And there’s me. I’ve also become a regular.’
It wasn’t exactly something to shout from the rooftops, but Sayo stood there with unwavering pride.
‘Fine,’ said the president, ‘but that amount of business just isn’t profitable. If you’re not selling then it’s meaningless. Bookshops aren’t charities.’
‘Well then,’ Rintaro cut in, ‘exactly how much profit do you need to make?’
‘How much?’
The president’s eyes widened at the unexpected question.
‘My grandpa used to say once you got thinking about money there was no end to it. If you have one million yen, then you want two. If you have a hundred million then you want two hundred. So better to stop focusing on money and talk instead about the books we read today. Like you, I believe that bookshops need to turn a profit. But I do know that there are things just as important as making money.’
Rintaro was no longer trying to persuade or win an argument. He was simply speaking from the heart.
‘If you’re a producer of books you should never call them “expendable goods”, no matter how much things don’t go as you’d hoped. You should shout, “I love books,” from the rooftops – don’t you agree?’
The president screwed up his eyes as if dazzled by the light.
‘Even if I were to say that, would it make any difference?’
‘Of course it would,’ replied Rintaro, quick as a flash.
‘But if I admit I love books, how will I be able to publish ones that I don’t like?’
The president’s eyes widened slightly and the corners of his mouth twitched.
It took a moment for Rintaro and Sayo to realize he was smiling. They also noticed that at some point the books had stopped falling. Everything was quiet. Time stood still.
‘With that approach, you’re going to have a hard life ahead of you,’ said the president finally, looking Rintaro straight in the eyes.
Rintaro didn’t look away.
‘Sitting behind that desk calling books expendable goods – I would call that a hard life.’
‘Would you, now?’
As the president murmured those words, the door to the room opened and the woman from the reception desk entered.
‘It’s about time—’ she said, but the president raised a hand to cut her off. She stepped out again.
The president paused for a moment, then indicated the door through which she’d just exited. It slid open, this time to reveal the red carpet that led back to the lift.
Not a word was exchanged. Rintaro looked at Sayo, and the two turned to leave. They’d barely taken a few steps when the president finally spoke.
‘I wish you the very best of luck.’
Rintaro turned back to look at the man behind the desk. It was difficult to read any emotion in the light of his eyes. He waited a beat.
‘You too.’
The president was probably not expecting this response. His eyes widened, and this time, the corners of his mouth clearly curved upwards. Rintaro caught a glimpse of a most unexpected grin.
*
‘Thanks.’
The tabby cat, padding noiselessly through the rows of books, looked back over its shoulder at Rintaro and Sayo.
‘Looks like you did well.’
‘I don’t know about that, but the president did smile as he sent us on our way,’ Rintaro said.
‘That’s good enough,’ the cat nodded.
The bluish light, countless books filling the space on both sides, and the lamps hanging overhead. This bizarre scene had become a familiar one to them. They were on their way home, led through the strange corridor of books by the tabby cat.
After the brief words of thanks, the cat continued in silence. The very fact that it wasn’t talking spoke volumes.
‘So you said this last labyrinth would be the end . . .’ ventured Rintaro.
‘That’s right,’ said the cat as it came to a halt. They were back in Natsuki Books. Almost as if the whole long trip had been an illusion, the way back had been simple and short.
After walking them to the heart of the shop, the cat turned nimbly around, and headed back up the aisle.
It hadn’t bothered to say goodbye.
‘Are you going?’ Rintaro spoke up.
‘Yes, I’m afraid I have to.’
The cat turned and bowed deeply.
‘Thanks to you, many, many books have been freed. I’m truly grateful.’
The cat remained in that humble pose, its head lowered, backlit by the bluish-white glow. It was a strange sight, but the emotion the cat expressed was sincere.
‘You have vanquished the inhabitants of three labyrinths with your own power. My work here is done.’
Sayo jumped in.
‘What do you mean, “done”? Won’t we see you again?’
‘No, we can’t meet. There’s no longer a need.’
‘But . . .’ Sayo began, turning to Rintaro in bewilderment.
Rintaro let out a deep sigh.
‘If this really is goodbye, then there’s something I want to say first,’ he said.
‘Go ahead,’ replied the cat. ‘Say whatever you want. A complaint, a parting shot at me – whatever.’
‘I just want to say thank you. That’s all.’
Rintaro bowed.
Both Sayo and the tabby cat seemed surprised.
‘Hold on, was that sarcasm?’
‘Of course not,’ said Rintaro, a wry grin on his face. ‘I’m not as stupid as you think, you know.’
‘Not as stupid as I think . . .?’ said the cat, looking at Rintaro suspiciously.
‘You came to me saying you needed to free some books and that you needed my help. But I think your goal was really something else.’
The cat didn’t stir; just fixed Rintaro with its jade eyes.
‘The day I lost my grandfather I couldn’t care less what happened to me. My mum and dad were gone, and now I’d lost Grandpa too. It was all so unfair and I was just so sick and tired of everything, and then suddenly you turned up.’
He scratched his head a little shyly.
‘If you hadn’t, I definitely wouldn’t be standing here with a smile on my face. I was supposed to help you, but you’re the one who helped me.’
Rintaro looked at the cat and took a deep breath before continuing.
‘I shut myself away in the shop, but you forced me out of it. Thank you.’
‘Shutting yourself away in a bookshop is fine,’ said the cat in its rich, deep voice. ‘What worried us more was that you’d retreated into your own shell.’
‘My shell . . .’
‘Please do come out of it.’
The cat spoke quietly, but its voice resonated to the pit of Rintaro’s stomach.
‘Don’t give in to loneliness. You aren’t alone. You have many friends looking out for you.’
Its parting words were heartfelt, encouraging. Rintaro fought off the questions that came to his head and simply looked back in silence.
Only a few days had gone by since his grandfather had passed away, and yet thanks to this strange cat, somehow he had been able to find some light in the darkness of his misery. That had been the cat’s true gift.
‘Thank you,’ Rintaro repeated.
‘Good manners,’ said the cat with a chuckle.
The cat flashed him one last smile, bowed gracefully, then slipped away down the bookshop aisle. As it was enveloped in the light, it began to scamper away at full speed. Sayo and Rintaro watched it disappear without glancing back.
The figure of the cat dissolved into the soft blue light and was replaced by the old wooden back wall of the bookshop.
Although there wasn’t a single customer in sight, the door bell rang once, bright and clear.