Chapter Six: What Kei Can't Do, I'll Do for Her

"I heard from a senior I know on the basketball team that Wakata and her boyfriend had several big fights after that day, and then they stopped seeing each other. When I asked about it yesterday, the guy had already said he'd dumped Wakata."

"Huh? Didn't people say Wakata and her boyfriend were really close?"

"Wakata probably went to him hoping he'd stand up for her, right? Too bad he probably lost his nerve as soon as he heard Kei's name."

Another girl added with a giggle. Their casual conversation left Karuizawa Kei feeling a little bewildered. She had spent several days worrying over what had happened, but to her classmates, it seemed as ordinary as discussing what to have for breakfast.

"Kei, you don't need to worry so much. I heard that after Wakata and her boyfriend broke up, the girls in her class started bullying her too."

Emi Eura leaned close to Karuizawa Kei's ear and said:

"And they're even rougher with her than we were."

She winked at Karuizawa Kei.

"Are you feeling sorry for Wakata?"

Karuizawa Kei hurriedly shook her head.

"I was just asking, that's all. Just asking."

Ever since she'd realized that Emi Eura might know all about her past, Karuizawa Kei had felt a little afraid of her. The other girls had only heard bits and pieces through rumors, but Emi Eura might have actually seen the miserable scenes from her past with her own eyes.

At the thought of that, Karuizawa Kei could only add:

"She was the one who bullied Yuko."

Emi Eura smiled at that and chimed in from beside Karuizawa Kei:

"So you don't need to worry, Kei. You did the right thing by protecting your classmate."

United Kingdom, London and West Yorkshire, the British Library.

One of Britain's most famous libraries, the British Library had stood for nearly three hundred years. Its collection contained more than 150 million books. Almost every visitor who set foot inside for the first time was awed by its imposing exterior and exquisite interior. It seemed less like a library and more like a historical and cultural landmark. Even just sitting there for a while and leafing through a book was enough to make you feel the weight of history.

Even if you read a book every day, you couldn't get through all the books here in a lifetime—or two, or even ten.

When Shiina Hiyori first came here, that thought had almost immediately sprung to mind. The previous year, her father had been transferred to the United Kingdom for work. A year later, after he'd settled into his new position, she and her mother had moved from Japan to join him. As someone who loved to read, Shiina Hiyori had fallen for the place almost as soon as she arrived in the city.

After asking her father to get her a reader's card for the St. Pancras Reading Room, Shiina Hiyori had spent her holidays there just as she'd hoped. The British Library welcomed more than four thousand visitors a day, but most people only came to look around and take pictures. Shiina Hiyori, who stayed all day whenever she visited, soon became a familiar face to the staff.

Of course, that might also have had something to do with the girl's distinctive appearance and personality.

"Name: Shiina Hiyori. Reader's card verified."

As usual, a staff member checked the many readers waiting to enter the reading room. When she saw a familiar name, she took a moment to exchange a few words.

"Shakespeare's manuscripts are on display in Exhibition Room Three today."

"Oh, thank you for letting me know."

The silver-haired, violet-eyed girl looked about thirteen or fourteen. An unusual, airy quality seemed to surround her as she politely thanked the staff member.

"Name: Kitagawa Ryo. Reader's card verified."

The boy behind her took back his reader's card. He seemed to have overheard their conversation and stepped forward, speaking softly.

"Anything good on display in Exhibition Room Three today? I hope they aren't trying to fob off a bunch of low-quality manuscripts on the tourists again, like last time."

The staff member seemed to know him fairly well too. She grinned.

"Why don't you go see for yourself? Besides, if a Sherlock Holmes fan heard you badmouthing the Conan Doyle manuscripts on display last time, they'd come right over and give you a good beating."

"Tch."

Kitagawa Ryo clicked his tongue in exasperation.

"You mean the exhibit with all the big signs outside, where over ninety percent of what was inside turned out to be manuscripts of translations from various countries? It wasted two hours of my time. I'd have been better off finishing Lawrence Block's book."

"Ahem. Just go in and see for yourself this time."

The staff member couldn't be bothered to say more. She waved him along, telling him not to block the people behind him.

Kitagawa Ryo sighed. Since she'd put it that way, even though he'd been fooled last time, he'd have to take a look this time, if only because the exhibit was billed as "Shakespeare."

"Um, hello?"

Just as he turned to follow the stream of visitors toward Exhibition Room Three, the girl—who seemed to have been waiting for him for a while—called out and stopped him.

"Uh, hello."

Kitagawa Ryo didn't understand what the girl wanted, but he returned her greeting out of politeness.

"Can I help you?"

"Um, I remember... You're Kitagawa Ryo, Kitagawa-kun, right? It's not every day you run into someone here at the British Library."

Kitagawa Ryo more or less understood what she meant. She was probably feeling an instinctive kinship at meeting someone from the same part of the world in faraway Europe.

"Oh, I remember seeing you here pretty often too. You're called..."

He tried to recall what he knew of the girl. He could picture fragments of her reading here, but coming up with her name as easily as she had his was a little difficult.

"My name is Shiina Hiyori."

She seemed to notice Kitagawa Ryo's predicament, so Shiina Hiyori introduced herself with a quiet smile.

"Are you going to see the exhibit in Exhibition Room Three too?"

"I'm interested in Shakespeare's manuscripts. I hope it won't be a waste of time like last time."

Kitagawa Ryo answered as he walked.

"From what you said earlier, Kitagawa-kun, are you interested in detective fiction?"

"Even if you're not a detective fan, you've probably heard of Conan Doyle. The Sherlock Holmes stories are one of the biggest franchises in the world."

"But you also mentioned Lawrence Block. Someone who'd only read Holmes, Father Brown, or Poirot—more casual detective-fiction fans, I mean—probably wouldn't bring up his work."

"Oh, I do like his hard-boiled mysteries. For example, Eight Million Ways to Die."

"Really?"

Shiina Hiyori hurried a few steps until she was walking alongside Kitagawa Ryo.

"I think Dorothy's work is good too. She's a rare example of a woman detective novelist. She isn't as famous as the Queen of Crime, but her Lord Peter Wimsey novels are excellent mysteries. The British Library has her entire collection of detective fiction, too."

"Yeah, that's true."

Kitagawa Ryo nodded. It was the first time he'd met someone his age who could talk at such length about detective fiction—and she was a beautiful girl, at that.

But they were about to enter Exhibition Room Three, where loud talking was forbidden, so Kitagawa Ryo didn't try to keep the conversation going. He quietly entered the room.

To him, it was just a chance encounter with a girl.

Until—

"Kitagawa-kun, you haven't had lunch yet, have you? Would you like to get something to eat together?"

After spending two hours looking at the Shakespeare manuscript exhibit in Exhibition Room Three, Kitagawa Ryo left the building feeling satisfied. To his surprise, Shiina Hiyori seemed to have been waiting outside the room for a little while.

"...?"

Kitagawa Ryo looked at the girl before him, who was smiling with her eyes narrowed in obvious delight, and couldn't figure out what she was thinking.

Had the customs in Britain really become so open that two strangers could arrange to have a meal together on the day they met?

No, wait. Neither of them was British.

"Because I'd really like to talk with you about novels."

Shiina Hiyori smiled as she explained Kitagawa Ryo's confusion.

"We're fellow book lovers. Just book lovers."

She waved her fair right hand in front of Kitagawa Ryo.

"Would that be all right?"

Kitagawa Ryo was very perceptive. He studied the girl's clear violet eyes, free of any ulterior motives or other thoughts. Perhaps she sensed his gaze, because Shiina Hiyori deliberately opened her eyes wider, reflecting Kitagawa Ryo's whole figure in them.

"All right."

He couldn't detect even a hint of romantic interest. Shiina Hiyori, the girl he'd just met that day, really did seem to want nothing more than to talk about novels with him. Kitagawa Ryo couldn't find a reason to refuse.

"I remember you mentioning that you really liked Lawrence Black's Eight Million Ways to Die."

They picked a restaurant by the roadside. Shiina Hiyori seemed to be visiting for the first time, so she simply followed Kitagawa Ryo's lead and ordered the same set meal as him.

"Yeah. Lawrence liked writing about prostitutes, and this book was no exception. Compared to ordinary mysteries, his books have a little more humanity to them."

Once he'd made up his mind, Kitagawa Ryo relaxed and focused on talking about novels with Shiina Hiyori.

"Do you know what there is in this town? What the hell is there in this filthy, stinking urban jungle? You know? Eight million ways to die." (New York had a population of eight million at the time.)

"That's one of the most famous lines in the book."

He seemed to think of something amusing and suddenly laughed.

"If you converted that to Tokyo, it'd be six and a half million ways to die."

"Huh? I thought Tokyo had a population of thirteen million?"

Shiina Hiyori asked in surprise.

"Because half of them die the same way: by suicide."

Kitagawa Ryo stirred the hot milk that had been brought over with a spoon. Resting his cheek on his hand, he spoke in a desultory manner.

"People who kill themselves for all sorts of reasons: school bullying, loan sharks, social pressure..."

"Speaking of school bullying, Kitagawa-kun, have you read Keigo Higashino's latest mystery?"

"Malice?"

Kitagawa Ryo kept up with Higashino's work. He thought for a moment, then took a sip of milk.

"Unlike a typical mystery, most of this book focuses on the culprit's motive. The killer was protected by a friend when he was being bullied at school, but then he joined in bullying that very friend. Even after being forgiven, he killed his friend because he'd been jealous of him since childhood."

"It's a tragedy."

Shiina Hiyori took a sip of milk too.

"Yeah, it's a tragedy."

Karuizawa Kei heard Wakata's name again a month later. Wakata had killed herself.

[Story Preview: Return of an Old Friend, reading complete]

Chapter Six: What Kei Can't Do, I'll Do for Her

During the month-long summer vacation after the first term, Karuizawa Kei didn't leave the house once. She locked herself in her room and pretended not to hear her parents' pleas or even their scolding. How was she supposed to explain herself to them? Rumors had already spread around school that Wakata had jumped to her death out of despair because of school bullying. The proof was that Karuizawa Kei had once led her classmates in cornering Wakata in the woods.

She'd been branded a murderer almost at once. In a single night, Karuizawa Kei's name had become inseparably linked with the word "killer." And what came next was, just as she'd expected... revenge?

Karuizawa Kei didn't want to call what she'd suffered revenge. If the students claiming to act in the name of justice had really been as righteous as they said, Wakata wouldn't have been driven to despair and suicide in the first place. Even the girls in the neighboring class who had actually bullied Wakata could brazenly come and kick her while she was down, as if that could wash away what they'd done.

The terrifying thing about school bullying was the endless piling on. As soon as the first person struck, a mark of humiliation was branded onto the victim, like a bee giving off a scent to signal its companions. The others would swarm in to abuse the victim again, because they knew she'd already been bullied.

They'd think, She's already been bullied by someone else. What difference would it make if I did it too?

Besides, it didn't look like anyone was protecting her. That "Kitagawa Ryo" who existed in the rumors hadn't appeared even after an entire term had passed. Not everyone had seen him. So why should they be afraid of someone who only existed in stories?

On the contrary, it was even easier to bully someone who'd already been bullied. They didn't think they were doing anything wrong. On the one hand, they felt safe because their actions were part of a group: everyone else was doing it too. On the other, they could reassure themselves that they hadn't started it and that the whole thing had nothing to do with them. They were only joining in and going along with the mood.

Karuizawa Kei hid beneath her blanket, wrapping it over her head. Even so, she could still feel the bone-deep chill that had surged through her when someone poured a whole bucket of cold water over her head. At the thought, her teeth began to chatter with fear.

The horrifying memories of the past overlapped with the present.

Karuizawa Kei remembered the rows of thumbtacks packed into her indoor shoes, the dead mice left in her desk, and the malicious graffiti drawn in red pen on her textbooks and desk. In just one night, the protective wall she'd spent months building had vanished as lightly as sand swept away by the wind.

"Kei? Are you okay? Everyone was just carried away by their emotions and did some bad things. I'm trying to talk to them. After all, you weren't the only one who went to see Wakata."

A message from Emi Eura pinged onto her phone. Only when Karuizawa Kei saw the lit-up screen did she realize it was already August ninth. Half the summer vacation had passed.

Like a drowning person clutching at the last lifeline, Karuizawa Kei grabbed her phone and read the message word by word. She let out a breath of relief. She remembered that during the month before summer vacation began, Emi Eura hadn't bullied her like the other girls in the class. She hurried to hold onto that fact and imprint it in her mind, reminding herself that at least she still had one friend.

"Thank you."

She sent her thanks by text, then nervously waited for Emi Eura to reply. For a moment, she wondered if Emi might be making fun of her.

"No need to thank me. We're friends, after all."