A book lay before him, apparently half-read.
But when my gaze fell on the book, I froze. There was not a single word on its pages.
I looked up at him, and he was looking at me as well.
"Why are there no words in this book?"
He countered, "Why must a book have words?"
For a moment, I did not know how to answer. If a book had no words, how could it still be called a book?
Books were meant to carry thoughts, and words were an indispensable part of that medium.
"Let me ask you this: what is the purpose of reading?"
"To make people think, so they may understand reason and see things clearly." After giving it some thought, I offered what I felt was a relatively accurate answer.
He placed the book before me. "Look. Don't rush to conclusions. Look at it for a few minutes first."
Maru leaned over from the side and took a glance, then drew his head back. "Putting on airs and playing tricks!"
But I followed his instructions and stared at the pages. I did not know why, but the moment my eyes fell upon the book, my heart became utterly clear and tranquil. That did not mean I was thinking of nothing; on the contrary, countless fragments surfaced in my mind—people and things I had never been able to make sense of before.
Suddenly, one image froze in my mind, and I began to think. The thought process was remarkably smooth, and things I had not understood at the time suddenly became clear.
Though the fragment represented nothing more than a minor matter, it still deeply shocked me.
This book had to be what stirred those fragments, and it was also this book that cleared my mind and allowed