“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 doorbell rang once, bright and clear.
The Final Labyrinth
Rintaro tipped the white teapot and immediately the aroma of Assam tea rose from the well-used Wedgwood teacup. He added a single sugar cube and plenty of milk, then took a silver spoon and gently stirred, watching the splash of milk gently circle the cup and become absorbed into the tea. He nodded with satisfaction.
“I’ve gotten really good at this.”
Brewing tea, that is.
It had been his grandfather’s habit to make himself a cup of tea after cleaning the bookshop every morning. Rintaro had followed the same routine for the past week and was beginning to feel very comfortable in it.
“Rin-chan!”
The high-pitched voice came from the direction of the door. Rintaro looked up to see the round, friendly face of his aunt.
“It’s moving day! Are you ready?”
She’s still calling me Rin-chan, he thought. With a smile he put down his cup and headed for the door.
Dressed in a white apron, Rintaro’s aunt seemed more approachable than ever; she must’ve been over fifty, but her air and mannerisms were those of a younger woman.
Outside the sky was cloudy, but somehow the air was bright, not only in contrast to the dimly lit shop, but also because Rintaro’s aunt always managed to bring a sunny disposition with her that warmed any chill.
“Will the moving truck be arriving this afternoon, Aunt?”
“Ugh, stop that, Rin-chan,” she replied. “When you speak formally like that, my shoulders go all stiff.”
Rintaro saw his aunt’s Fiat 500 parked outside. The image of her stuffed into that tiny car made him smile.
“I’m going shopping. Wondered if you wanted anything?”
They walked out together. Easing herself back into the car, she added, “I’ll be back by midday. Don’t worry, I’ll bring you some lunch. Make sure you’re ready!”
Rintaro smiled and nodded at this rapid succession of statements. But as she got ready to drive away, she suddenly stopped and looked up at him.
“There’s something different about you, Rin-chan. You know, I was really worried about you when I saw you at the funeral. It looked as if you were just going to fade away. But it turns out you’re stronger than I thought.”
“I’m holding up,” said Rintaro, with the most cheerful expression he could muster. “Not perfectly of course, but I’m about as fine as I could be.”