She continued to stare at the bright light that was filling the bookshop.
“You really should leave this time. If you don’t go now, you may never be able to get home. It’s okay. You don’t need to worry about your girlfriend.”
As he nodded his understanding, the room got steadily lighter around him.
“So this is goodbye?”
“Yes . . . It’s been . . .”
The woman seemed to hesitate a moment.
“It’s been a pleasure.”
“It was nice to meet you, too,” said Rintaro.
He bowed deeply, and the woman acknowledged it with a nod.
“You really do have some admirable qualities,” she said. “But were you humoring me just then?”
“No. Not at all. Thanks to meeting you, I’ve realized something very important.”
The woman watched Rintaro as he bowed deeply once again, clearly expressing his gratitude.
“What pleasant parting words.”
With that the woman raised her hand and the three screens all vanished, revealing once again the sad, empty bookshelves. But then she reached out and touched the bookcases. This time in a rush of bluish-white light, books began to appear one after the other on the shelves, until the shelves were packed full of books, all arranged in proper order.
“I think these suit the space much better,” said the woman without smiling.
Rintaro realized that this was her way of saying thank you.
“Me, too,” he said. “I think this is much better.”
He smiled at the woman, and, expressionless, she nodded back. It was almost imperceptible, but it was a nod.
The light grew stronger, enveloping the bookcases, the sofa, and the two of them. Rintaro could do nothing but stand there.
The woman’s thin, bloodless lips moved as if she were saying something, but the words failed to reach Rintaro’s ears. Then she turned her back on him. Rintaro was unexpectedly impressed by the ease of her demeanor, as she walked away with no sign of regret.
“Thank you.”
As Rintaro let the pure white light wash over him, he was sure that these had been her own parting words.
*
How much time had passed? It was hard to say.
Rintaro found himself sitting on the familiar wooden floor of Natsuki Books. In his arms, sleeping peacefully, was his classmate. At the back end of the shop was the simple wooden wall, and outside the front door, the street was bright with a dusting of snow.
“Sayo?” he whispered, and her eyes immediately popped open.
“Natsuki . . . ?”
Rintaro sighed with relief at the sound of her voice. Looking up at him, Sayo waited a moment before speaking.
“You okay?”
“I think that’s my line.”
Rintaro smiled wryly, and Sayo smiled back at him. It was that familiar charming smile that she gave him whenever she dropped by to see him. She glanced around the shop.
“Looks like you got to bring me home, then.”
“That was the agreement.”
Rintaro took Sayo’s hand and stood up. He was facing her with his back to the door. The soft light shining in through the latticework from the snowy exterior made her look more radiant than ever.
“Is Welcome back the right thing to say in this situation?” Rintaro asked.