Free Book Girl and the Captive Fool by Mizuki Nomura Page A

peace.
    “Let’s go, Konoha!”
    “Yeah.”
    I slung my bag over my shoulder and turned out the lights,then left the darkened auditorium. We kept the same pace as we walked, Takeda talking gleefully about things that had happened in class or about her close friends.
    I pretended not to know her secret and answered her with smiles.
    Only my heart was as cold and heavy as lead.
    But maybe everyone was like that.
    Not just Takeda, but Akutagawa, Kotobuki, Tohko… Maybe they were all just pretending to be happy, but they weren’t really inside. Maybe nobody spoke the truth and hid it away in order to maintain their precarious balance in society or at school.
    Jerk—
the sound of it echoed in my ear, and I felt an ache brush over my heart.
    Smiling at everyone, being pleasant, not getting too close, not withdrawing too much, keeping just the right distance—I had been like that for a long time, because I couldn’t bear to lose something important again. Because I hated the thought of hurting anyone or of being hurt.
    Now, my days went by placidly. I didn’t want to lose these peaceful, conventional hours that were nonetheless tepidly heartrending.
    So Takeda and I were both likely to go on telling lies.
    Outside, the sky was dyed scarlet. It looked like the end of the world.
    As we passed by the side of the school building, Takeda suddenly tugged on my sleeve.
    “Isn’t that Akutagawa?”
    Three slender shadows were cast on the wall behind the school.
    The shadows danced about, washed in the deep red sunlight. One swung its arm up, and the other two drew together, seeming to tremble.
    I saw Akutagawa and Sarashina… and a boy, a student I didn’t recognize, all talking together very seriously.
    Sarashina was shaking, on the verge of tears. Akutagawa stood as if to shield her, and the well-built boy glared at him murderously. He seemed to be yelling at Akutagawa fiercely. Akutagawa’s brow was knit with distress as he watched the other boy. Every once in a while, his tightly shut lips would move slightly.
    “It looks like it’s gonna get violent,” Takeda breathed, and at that same moment, the other boy threw a fist into Akutagawa’s stomach.
    Akutagawa doubled over and staggered on his feet.
    Both of Sarashina’s hands flew to her mouth, and she let out a frail scream.
    Takeda and I both sucked in a breath, as well.
    The boy threw a string of punches into Akutagawa’s stomach and launched a kick at his chest. Though he staggered, Akutagawa held his ground and stayed on his feet. Sarashina tried to run forward, but he reached out a hand to stop her. He was punched again, but still he stood.
    Should I get a teacher?
But I was frozen, my legs turned to jelly. I couldn’t tear my eyes from Akutagawa.
    Sarashina clung to Akutagawa’s back. He gently pushed her away, then slowly fell to his knees on the grass and bowed his head.
    In the dark flames of the evening sun, he pressed his head to the ground and groveled. He looked like Christ being crucified when he did that.
    A young man dressed in a black school uniform, rising out of the fading light. One who took suffering into his own body. A martyr.
    My palms were sweating, and the inside of my mouth was dry.
    My head throbbed with the knowledge that I had glimpsed something I shouldn’t have.
    The other boy’s face twisted with frustration. He gave Akutagawa’s shoulder a vicious kick, then yelled something at him and left.
    Sarashina crumpled to her knees, buried her face in Akutagawa’s back, and wept.
    The sun set, and Akutagawa kept his forehead pressed against the ground, not moving, until faint, cool shadows hid them both.
    We could only hold our breath and watch the scene play out like a painful fantasy.

Chapter 3–I’ll Slice It to Pieces

    I received your letter.
    As soon as I started reading it, I felt as if my heart was being torn open, and I grew dizzy.
    You didn’t grasp my reasons for distancing myself from you at all. The paper was wholly