Chapter One - 2

2

 

The next day, Kimiyo visited the library to return a book. As she was stamping the lingering clingy snow from the bottom of her shoes on the mat, she heard lively voices in the distance. It was laughter. Of all the things that would have been out of place in the Library at the End of the World, laughter was certainly one of them. Amused, Kimiyo found herself drawn to it.

The entryway was as empty as ever. The sofa in the shape of the character “ku” (く) was also unoccupied. Passing the entryway to the front desk, though, she saw an unusual amount of people. Kirisame, Utamika, and Miki were all there. Miki was leaning her upper body on the desk and talking with the two librarians, propping up her cheeks in her hands. It seemed they were the ones laughing. When Kimiyo approached, Miki raised a hand to wave at her and said “Hi!” Kimiyo said hello.

“Miki, are you off from school?”

“College is like being on vacation all the time.”

“Is college interesting?”

“It's no fun at all.”

“Then why do you keep going?”

“I haven't been.”

“Ah, I see.”

“You want to return that?” Kirisame took the book from Kimiyo. “Utamika, stamp this.”

“Where was the stamp again?”

“It's right in front of you.”

Kirisame pointed to the desk.

“Utamika, you're so forgetful,” Miki said cheerily. “You'll even forget yourself one of these days.”

Miki was teasing her, but Utamika was so focused on the return that she didn't even notice.

“There's no need to rush.”

Kimiyo received a library card from Utamika with the date of return stamped diagonally on it. When Miki teased her further, Utamika blushed and gave a shy smile. Utamika, Miki, and Kirisame were all Kimiyo's friends. They were the sorts of friends she probably wouldn't have met had she been lying in a hospital bed.

“Utamika, the thing you forgot yesterday was your umbrella, wasn't it?”

The question came from Kimiyo.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“I'm sorry,” Kimiyo replied, handing back the umbrella she'd received from Kirisame yesterday. “This is your umbrella. Kirisame lent it to me, so I went home with it. I noticed your name had been carefully written on the handle.”

“Ugh... After that, I had to walk home covered in snow.”

“Didn't you notice I had it when we passed each other in the entryway?”

“No, I didn't notice at all.”

“It's Kirisame's fault for lending out her umbrella without her permission.”

Miki pointed at him.

“It's Utamika's fault for forgetting it.”

“Is it my fault after all...?”

Utamika's shoulders slumped and her face fell. Kimiyo returned her umbrella and apologized again. Utamika put the umbrella under the desk.

“So? Who's the other guy, Kimiyo?” Miki asked with a smirk.

“Eh? Who?”

“Some guy asked me a bit ago 'Is Kimiyo here yet?' I couldn't give any answer but 'I don't know'. I should have said something more interesting.”

She was probably talking about Kito. Kimiyo remembered what had happened yesterday.

“I don't get it either. He suddenly said some things I didn't understand.”

“Did he confess his feelings for you or something like that?”

“Something similar,” Kimiyo said with disgust. “He said we'd reincarnated, and we were destined to kill each other and so on.”

“What's with that?” Kirisame seemed intrigued and sat up straight in his chair. “That guy's not flirting, he's recruiting for a cult. I wonder if he'll bring the High Priest over tomorrow.”

“Don't joke about that.”

“My bad. Don't lose your temper.”

“If he tries anything weird, we'll all stop him, so why not talk to him?” Miki asked. “You're also looking for someone to love, aren't you?”

“Nope. Not interested.”

“That's awful!” Miki cried out loud. “You can't say things like that. You can't die without having known love. I won't allow it!”

Miki had made up her mind.

“Alright, alright, I'll go.”

“He went that way.”

Kirisame pointed towards the library proper. Utamika anxiously asked if she was really going.

Kimiyo stepped away from the front desk and entered the library with its shelves of books. She opened the wooden door, this one without a glass window, and saw sunlight streaming through the curtains to shimmer at her feet. The curtains were mostly closed, so even though it was daytime, the library's interior wasn't very bright. There were a few wet footprints in the grain of the old wooden floor. Kimiyo followed them between the bookshelves. Works of literature were lined up on either side of her. She didn't look at their spines as she usually did, but walked through the shelves searching for Kito's figure. She found him leaning against a bookshelf labeled 420. He was reading a black-bound book. When he noticed Kimiyo, he looked up.

“I say 'the mug is broken'. But you say 'the mug is broken now'.”

“I don't understand what you're talking about.”

“Humans have excellent memories. That's why we distinguish time so well. Through memory, I know what the mug looked like before it broke. But the mug must have existed in this world regardless of whether anyone remembers it. It's broken now, but it wasn't broken before, and it will probably remain broken in the future. That is the way I think. Both the broken mug and the unbroken mug exist as a single form. In other words, a world must contain either an unbroken mug or a broken mug.”

“Are you talking about parallel worlds?”

“No. I'm talking about a world of points.”

“You're saying time isn't a linear thing that flies like an arrow?”

“You're the one who says that. That's why I'm presenting the laws of physics and thermodynamics. That's proof of the flow of time. But you still doubt that the world has continuity. Your world is a collection of endless points, point after point after point after point.”

“And 'the mug is broken now'?”

“Ah. To you, 'now' doesn't mean the present as perceived, but the world at large.”

“I don't understand what you're saying, but I think it's nonsense.”

“I didn't expect you to be the one to deny it,” Kito laughed. “It's as if it isn't you.”

“You're right. It isn't. The reincarnated me that you knew is gone. I am me. The old me died when she lost her old memories. You just don't want to admit that, do you?”

“You'll remember someday.”

“That day will never come.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I'm going to die. I have a big lump in my head. Sometimes I get terrible headaches. I'm going to die soon.”

“...That can't be true.”

Kito dropped the book in his hands in dismay. He stared at Kimiyo with an expression of despair. His whole form was tinged with utter sorrow, as though he had suffered this experience many times before.

“Even if we're destined to kill each other in every life like you said, I don't have to worry about it this time. I'll die even if you don't kill me. I'll die from a terminal disease before fate gets us to kill each other.”

“What the hell...”

Kito groaned as though in pain.

“If you really insist that one of us has to kill the other, then you can kill me. Finish me off right as I'm about to die.”

“Please, stop. Don't say things like that. How can you just accept death so easily?”

“So I should have just spent my whole short life crying? I don't cry easily.”

“You should value your life more.”

“Don't decide that on your own!”

Kimiyo was furious. She screamed with rage.

Instantly, her head began to hurt. The pain was as though a knife had pierced her skull. The brain didn't even have pain receptors, so why did it hurt so much? Why this much? Kimiyo clutched her head and hunched into a ball on the floor. Kito ran up to her and said something. She couldn't understand what it was. With shaking hands, Kimiyo searched her skirt pocket and found a bottle of medicine. She swallowed three pills. It would take several minutes before the pain subsided. Kimiyo began to count the time from the beginning. One, two, three, four...

“It's okay, it's not your fault,” Kimiyo said.

Kito was about to call someone from the front, but Kimiyo stopped him. She was going to be okay. Seven, eight, nine, ten...

“We've been killing each other for a long time.” Kito crouched down and leaned close to Kimiyo. “Let's get this over with. You're right. You're always right. What a stupid mix we make.”

Kimiyo's headache was too bad for her to pull away from Kito, so she stayed where she was. Kito's body smelled like dry earth. Kimiyo stayed with Kito until her headache subsided. The pain ebbed and flowed in waves, but eventually, it stopped. Kimiyo stood up, leaning against the bookshelf.

“That's the only time you're allowed to touch me.”

“I understand.”

Kito brought a chair from near the window and offered it to Kimiyo. Kimiyo took it and sat down. Beyond the shelves, she saw an old man pass by. He was a rather elderly man who was a regular at the library. He was wearing light brown spectacles, probably reading glasses, and walked with his back bent. But he still looked to be in better health than Kimiyo. The old man walked towards shelf 210.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any regrets about your life?”

“No.” Kimiyo's answer was cold. “None.”

Kimiyo raised a hand to her hair and stroked it. Kito stared at her for a long time as she repeated the process. He was searching for something hidden, but his eyes weren't sharp. They were kind, gentle eyes that wanted to accept Kimiyo for who she was. Kimiyo looked down.

“I'm trying to be honest with you.”

“I understand.”

“It's okay if you don't.”

“I do.”

“That's not fair,” Kimiyo said with narrowed eyes.

Kito picked up the book by his feet and returned it to the shelf.

“Tell me more. About us.”

“We were lovers,” Kito said, leaning back on the shelf. “But a cursed dagger drew us to our deaths. We always kill each other with the same kind of dagger. Every time we're born anew, every time we meet again, a dagger orders us to kill each other. We can't resist.”

“Could it be, that dagger is...?”

Kirisame had once shown Kimiyo a dagger covered in dust. For some reason, it had been placed in the library's storeroom alongside all the books. It was a dull, dirty old knife, and Kimiyo had quickly forgotten about it. But she did remember that it existed.

“It must be in this library. We always reunite near one of cursed daggers.”

“Will we really kill each other with the dagger?”

“Maybe.” Kito turned towards the window. “There are a total of six daggers in the world. They have drank the blood of countless people in different times and places. The owner of a dagger can never know happiness. It's not just us, the daggers make the world itself miserable. Wherever we run, there's another dagger waiting for us.”

“I somehow can't believe that. It's hard to believe an old blade can be cursed.”

“But in fact, it was because of a dagger we met. No, to be precise, I met you again by following a dagger's footsteps. I was sure you'd be near the dagger.”

“Why on Earth do we have to go through the misery of reincarnating and killing each other? Is it because of the daggers?”

“I thought hard about that. Where did our tragedy begin? Of course, I didn't just think. I searched for the origin of the tragedy by unraveling the origins of the daggers and where they came from. What I found was the legend of the Six Headless Knights from 13^th century France. Six daggers and six knights. There seemed to be a connection between them. I dimly remembered it. I was one of the Headless Knights. You were the only daughter of my lord. It is a very distant memory, so blurry and indistinct I can't help but feel that it's the origin of my reincarnations. I looked into the legend and found it was full of strange events. One night, a private order of knights from a certain castle were all found as headless corpses, and a headless knight came back to life to kill the daughter. It's like something out of a ghost story. However, the most noteworthy aspect of the story is the Six Headless Knights themselves. After their deaths, the daggers they carried were taken from their corpses and given to other knights. However, every knight who owned a dagger died on the battlefield. The daggers were later sealed away, but nobles who found the story amusing began to spread it as a rumor.”

“You a knight, and me a lord's daughter. Us, the poor heroes continuously fleeing the curse of the daggers. It's so cheesy.”

“I hope it's cheesy enough to have a happy ending. I don't know why, but the knight killed the daughter and the daughter killed the knight. The curse of that event is engraved upon the dagger and on us.”

“Something happened between us a long time ago, didn't it?”

“Yeah. Something happened.”

 

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