But the woman before him now was a steel wall: hard and shiny and impenetrable. There was no clue, no doorway in, just a deep, unfathomable coldness. The usual Rintaro would immediately have raised the white flag, turned on his heels, and fled. As his blood began to run colder in his veins, Rintaro looked down at his feet, hoping to find the tabby cat at his side, but there was no sign of it. He could have found ten or twenty good reasons to run away right then and there.
Instead, he held his ground, putting all the strength he could muster into steadying his trembling knees. This time he hadn’t just come along on the spur of the moment; he had a purpose.
“Welcome to Natsuki Books,” said the woman, flexing her fingers slightly. “I hope you enjoyed my little stage production. How was your journey?”
“I’ve come to get Sayo back.”
The woman merely narrowed her eyes.
“I’ve come to get Sayo back,” he repeated, but the woman’s expression didn’t change.
“Really? You’re not as clever as I thought you’d be,” she said, sighing. “You say the most obvious things. No trace of originality whatsoever.”
“‘Guy don’t need no sense to be a nice fella. Seems to me sometimes it jus’ works the other way around. Take a real smart guy and he ain’t hardly ever a nice fella,’” said Rintaro.
“Steinbeck? What did you quote him for?”
“I’d say it’s a very sharp observation. You seem like a real smart one yourself.”
The woman stopped moving her hands and turned her emotionless eyes on Rintaro.
“I take back what I just said. It appears you have a wonderful sense of humor. Inviting you here was apparently worth the effort.”
“You know, I have no idea what your intentions are, but I’ll try to be polite. Thank you for having me.”
“My, you have a shorter temper than rumor would have it. I’d heard you were a nice boy. Not the sort to trade barbs.”
Fair point, thought Rintaro. Even though his heart was racing, his mind was unusually clear. It was powered by his anger.
“I’ll ask you one more time. Let Sayo go. I don’t know what business you have with me, but she has absolutely nothing to do with it.”
“My business with you is straightforward. I just wanted to talk to you,” said the woman.
Rintaro was flummoxed.
“But if you wanted to talk to me, you could have just asked me to come. Why bother kidnapping Sayo? If you have so much spare time on your hands that you can relax on a fancy sofa all day, or lead a horse and carriage around fountains in a park, why can’t you just drop in at Natsuki Books? I’d even treat you to a cup of my grandfather’s Assam tea.”
“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. But if I turned up out of the blue, would you have taken me seriously?”
“Taken you seriously?” Rintaro asked.
“I want to have a serious conversation. I’m not interested in gut reactions or platitudes or lazy attitudes. I want to observe a young man who truly loves books talking seriously about them.”
The woman raised both corners of her mouth in a smile. It was a beautiful smile—but as cold as ice.
Rintaro shuddered as if a frozen hand had brushed his neck. Then, as if to repress once again that nagging urge to flee, he began to talk.
“I’ll ask you again: Did you take Sayo in order to talk to me?”
“Yes, I did. And looking at you here right now, it looks like I made the right decision.”
Rintaro took a deep breath.