★ | I, Rhys Kakyoin | Jotakak

47 ★ Big deal

The library I am in has a few tall walls of old volumes, though mostly they are now a sort of decoration to set the scene. I sit at one of the self-study tables near the windows that overlook the school's carpark, working on some linear-algebraic equations for my Maths homework. It's lunchtime right now, and Ms Ishida had just encouraged me earlier to head to the cafeteria to talk to my classmates, but I ended up resolving to spend time alone up in the library instead. After what had happened with me and Oda after school last week, I'm not exactly too interested in having such a stroke of bad luck occur for me once more with someone else.

"Oh. Noriaki?" a voice utters from behind me in surprise, startling me. My head snaps round to look at who's calling for me, only to realise that it's the school's only librarian, Ms Kazuya, recognisable anywhere with her beetle-black hair tied up in a high bun. She had only been here since the beginning of the month, which wasn't long ago, but I already remember her well because of how much I frequent the library. "I didn't notice you came in."

"Um... yeah," I say diffidently, wondering why she's come to see me. "You weren't at your desk when I did, so..."

She claps her hands together, smiling sweetly at me in a tinge of relief. "Great. I need you to help me with something. You're quite tall, aren't you?"

I'm taller than her by several inches or so, but I wouldn't call myself that. I set my blue-ink pen aside, resting my pencil case on top of my papers so that they won't somehow fly off even though the library is chilled by overhead air conditioning instead of fans. "Why?"

"Come with me, please," she tells me before wheeling round and flitting off, compelling me to get out of my chair hastily and follow suit closely behind. As we pass by rows of bookshelves on carpeted floors, heading through the rather big library, I soon realise why she has asked me for help specifically: I'm essentially the only one here, aside from another girl reading silently in one corner with a wired earpiece, looking uninterested in being disturbed by anyone.

Ms Kazuya leads me towards the entrance of the library, near the double glass doors and where the cupboard with square slots are for putting your bags before entering the library. Just after it is the bookshelf for new releases for the month, labelled with a laminated sign taped on near the top left corner, though the two rows towards the uppermost of the shelf are mostly empty. A metal book trolley stands next to the shelf, some books still waiting to be put in.

"I couldn't find any stools or chairs whose seats weren't made of fabric, so I really need your help," she explains, chuckling. "I won't bother you again after this, okay?"

I nod shyly. "Do they have to be put in any particular order or something?"

"No. It's fine."

With that, I start grabbing several of the books on the trolley at a time with both hands, slotting them in briskly though cautiously so as to not damage the covers or pages. I'm rather pleased that she's asked me for help. It makes me feel better, regardless of how trivial this task is; it makes me feel useful and important in a way.

"You always come here during lunch or after school, and you come here alone. Don't you have friends to spend time with?" Ms Kazuya questions as I slot the last few books into the shelf, and I heave my shoulders in a languorous shrug.

"I don't have friends." It's blunt. It sounds dishonest; a mere cry for attention. But how else am I supposed to say it?

"That's strange," she adds insistently, "You seem like a person who people would love to be friends with. Kind... unique." She just won't believe me. I hang my head low, like I am ashamed, like I did something wrong. I scratch my head, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of my black gakuran. Maybe I am full of shame. At times I feel at fault for the shortcomings that happen to me. I wonder if it was something I did. I wonder if it's something I do, if I had committed such an atrocity too appalling to grow from or to be forgiven for, that has driven me away from love, from redemption, from care.