The fine dust of the afternoon danced in the beams of light slanting down from the high windows, shrouding the forest of bookshelves like a layer of golden gauze.
Shiina Hiyori clutched her books to her chest with both hands and quietly poked her body out from behind a bookshelf, her gaze locking onto Fuyuji Mikage as he ascended the steps one by one.
After the midterms, the number of people coming to the library to study had suddenly dropped significantly. The vast library now seed spacious and empty.
The air was perated with the dry, aged scent of paper and ink. Occasionally, one could hear the sound of so student turning a page by hand.
Within those violet-athyst eyes, the unknown classmate walked into the world literature section. His finger traced across the spines one by one, and then he forcefully pulled out a book and opened it, lowering his head to read as if quite intrigued.
Shiina Hiyori silently placed a hand over her own heart, gazing absently at the gilt-stamped cover of the book in her arms.
The first ti she encountered him was beside the bookshelves in the French literature section of the library. The shelves there were particularly tall and heavy. She often had to strain and stand on her tiptoes there just to reach the books she wanted.
And he... effortlessly took away the "Farewell, My Lovely" that she had been searching for.
She had clearly been looking for this book for so long... only to watch helplessly as he extended those slender fingers and pulled it from the shelf...
At that mont, she had felt a small flicker of indignation, as if the treasure she had been searching for all along had been dug up with one shovel by a passing villager. But what followed was the feeling that her heart had skipped a beat.
Was it a coincidence? Or... was he the sa as ?
The books we read... they seem very similar, don't they?
The second ti she encountered him was beside the window in the northwest corner of the library. He had borrowed "Thirteen Steps."
The afternoon sun was very languid. Through the gaps in the bookshelf, Shiina Hiyori saw the title of that book. Takano Kazuaki's social school mystery... an exploration of justice and redemption...
A social school work again. Another piece she was interested in.
A kindred book companion...
This thought surfaced with absolute clarity, bringing with it a secret, indescribable delight.
That ti, she had wanted to step forward and get to know him.
But...
Her footsteps felt as if they were bound by invisible threads. Even just asking a single line like, "Do you also like Chandler / Gera Masse / Matsumoto Seicho?" — her courage would crumble right at her throat.
Would he think she was strange?
A strange girl suddenly erging from behind a bookshelf, saying irrelevant book titles... Would it disturb him, imrsed in his world of words? What expression should she wear? What opening line should she use to seem natural? What if he reacted coldly, or rely brushed her off out of politeness?
And besides... she had rely watched him borrow books in silence. He knew absolutely nothing about her.
Wouldn't this kind of "acquaintance" be far too unfair to him? Far too... presumptuous?
Just like in "The Murderer Is a Fox," when Ellery Queen t Patricia, who was equally interested in the "haunted house" case during his investigation.
Or in "The Mysterious Affair at Styles," when Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings reunited at Styles Manor.
Even, perhaps, the most famous duo in the history of detective fiction—Sherlock Hols eting Dr. Watson at 221B Baker Street, and thus beginning their legendary lifelong partnership?
Her body was more honest than her thoughts. Like a startled young deer, Shiina Hiyori instinctively shrank back behind the bookshelf, leaving only her gaze, still stubbornly following him.
Today, Shiina Hiyori had once again encountered Fuyuji Mikage. And once again, she hesitated and could not step forward.
The young girl clutched her books, leaning lightly against the bookshelf, sinking into a state of inner conflict.
Perhaps... next ti?
Waiting for a more natural opportunity?
Like when he happened to stand right next to her while looking for a book? Or... when he borrowed a book she also just happened to want to read, and she could muster the courage to ask him about his thoughts after reading it?
The form of address "book companion" circled in the bottom of her heart, carrying a trace of sweetness, yet also a trace of bitterness.
Which book would he borrow today?
Another social school mystery?
Matsumoto Seicho's "Points and Lines"? Morimura Seiichi's Proof Trilogy? Shizukui Shusuke's "The Killer's Apology" is also really very good...
Thinking this way, Shiinna Hiyori's chest grew slightly warm. Her mood couldn't help but beco buoyant. Whether acquainted or not, simply having soone with the sa tastes as her at the sa school was always sothing to be happy about.
What followed, however, were the cold fingertips gripping her book, and the timidity that held her back from stepping forward.
And as for herself, she would probably, still, be like a quiet book, hiding herself in the shadows of the bookshelves, silently morizing that na.
Waiting for that "next ti," which even she herself was not certain would ever truly co...
"Um..."
A voice interrupted the young girl's sowhat lancholic thoughts. The voice was not loud, yet like a pebble cast into still water, it instantly sent ripples spreading across the surface of Shiina Hiyori's heart.
The young girl looked up blankly and saw Fuyuji Mikage approaching.
"..."
"Excuse ..." Fuyuji Mikage pointed at the bookshelf she was leaning against.
"Eh?"
Shiina Hiyori tilted her head adorably. She, who could normally deduce the other party's intent through their facial expressions, found that for a mont, she had absolutely no idea what he ant.
"May I borrow it?"
The quiet girl finally realized—she was blocking the very book he wanted to take. A blush of embarrassnt instantly rose on her cheeks.
"Hai~" A floating, airy voice spilled from her throat.
Shiina Hiyori pulled her book up to cover her cheeks, hiding her blushing expression. She shifted two steps to the side, next to Fuyuji Mikage. The oak floor beneath her feet let out a faint creaking sound, which seed especially distinct in the quiet corner.
The heat rising on her cheeks and the cold, smooth touch of the book against her face ford a strange, striking contrast, making her almost want to hide herself even deeper into the shadows of the bookshelves.
Very quickly, the young girl collected herself.
This was the best opportunity. Ellery Queen had also t Patricia in a coincidence just like this.
Right now. Use the book he's pulling out to strike up a conversation with him. The young girl secretly cheered herself on in her heart.
"Excuse , are you also—"
The words about to leave the young girl's mouth jamd in her throat. The voice that had originally carried a trace of a smile dissipated in an instant. Slowly, her hands dropped weakly to her sides.
Because the book he was pulling out was, at a single glance, absolutely not a mystery novel. Nor was it any famous work of literature. And judging by the wild, scrawled handwriting on the book's cover, it was the kind of book she would absolutely never take out and read under normal circumstances...
Shiina Hiyori stood there blankly, the light in her violet-athyst eyes dimming completely.
"Thanks." Fuyuji Mikage picked up the book with evident delight. "I never expected that even the Advanced Nurturing High School has this kind of book. Gotta go back and properly revisit it soti."
Is that so... So the books he likes aren't mystery novels after all...
Shiina Hiyori didn't know what kind of expression she should wear. She rely bit her lip in silence, hugging the book in her arms tightly to herself.
Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings...
Ellery Queen and Patricia...
Sherlock Hols and Dr. Watson...
All of those... had they only ever been my own wishful thinking...?
Shiina Hiyori slowly lowered her head. The brown floor reflected her small, curled-up figure. She wanted to move her feet and flee from this place, yet her legs, as if playing a cruel joke, pinned her firmly to the spot.
"Hm? You read this novel?"
In an instant, the young girl's drooping head halted.
The world seed to fall silent, leaving only the soft rustling sound of pages turning.
Shiina Hiyori abruptly lifted her head and found the other party staring at the book in her arms—"Farewell, My Lovely."
Fuyuji Mikage scratched his head, looking a bit troubled. "I borrowed it before, but I ended up reading it in a complete daze. The scene transitions were too fast, and the protagonist inside kept getting beaten up." As he spoke, he let out a sigh. "As expected, social school mysteries don't rely on pure suspense to hook people in the way that orthodox school mysteries do."
The young girl's eyes instantly lit up. Completely unlike her usual shyness, the words flew out of her mouth at an extrely rapid pace as she closed in on Fuyuji Mikage step by step.
"It's alright. Which school of mystery do you like? Orthodox, setting-based, hardboiled, or sci-fi mystery?"
"Uh... orthodox, I suppose?" Fuyuji Mikage leaned his body back.
"'The Three Coffins,' 'Those Who Cast A Curse Like The Headless,' or 'The Anatomy of Motive.' If you don't like any of these, I can still recomnd other novels to you. My absolute favorite is 'The Seventh Hypothesis.' I know where it is right now. If you have the ti, I can take you there imdiately."
Fuyuji Mikage stared blankly at this excessively enthusiastic young girl before him.
"You'll take to find 'The Seventh Hypothesis'?"
Shiina Hiyori realized that this behavior was sowhat impolite. She lowered her head and murmured, "I'm sorry. If you don't like it, that's perfectly fine too."
"That's not what I ant. It's just..."
Fuyuji Mikage turned his body sideways, revealing the blind spot that Shiina Hiyori hadn't been able to see. There was another book tucked under his arm.
"I already got it."
"..."
The window beside them stood open. A gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of new leaves from outside, lightly stirring the curtains.
Sunlight spilled across the long oak desk by the window, and also warmly, gently, spilled over the two of them. The cover of "The Seventh Hypothesis" reflected a soft, matte sheen beneath the light.
Only a brief, subtle silence flowed between the two of them.
Shiina Hiyori quietly gazed at the book titled "The Seventh Hypothesis" before her. Her rosy lips moved faintly a few tis. For a mont, she had no idea what to say.
"Although I'm not quite sure what's going on, I'm Fuyuji Mikage. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Looking at the hand extended toward her, Shiinna Hiyori silently reached out and took it, speaking in a floating, airy tone.
"I'm Shiina Hiyori . Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Shiina, huh..."
Fuyuji Mikage withdrew his hand, cupped his chin, and asked with a touch of excitent, "Then, do you have a relative nad Shiina Mashiro?"
"Eh? No, I don't."
"What about Shiina Yuna? Shiina Masatsune?"
"No, not those either."
"Your Shiina family really does produce an abundance of beautiful girls, huh. Nothing like my Fuyuji family, which doesn't even have a single person worth ntioning. Practically just so stray by the roadside."
Shiina Hiyori's face instantly flushed bright red. She discovered that this new friend she had just made was just a tiny bit different from what she had imagined.
"Well then, Shiina-san, do you like mystery novels?"
"I like them very much. What about you, Fuyuji-kun?"
"Mm... I suppose I'd count as liking them. To the extent of reading one every two weeks or so."
"Then... what did Fuyuji-kun think of that book 'The Long Goodbye' you read before?"
"That one, well... to be honest, there were quite a few parts I didn't really understand."
"You need to read that one in the context of the Arican historical background at the ti. If it's alright, shall I help Fuyuji-kun analyze it?"
"Eh? Is that okay?"
"It's no trouble at all."
...
The afternoon sunlight remained warm, stretching their shadows long across the floor through the window.
The tranquility of the library wrapped itself around them once more, but in the air, there seed to be a thread of sothing different from before—a light, subtle electric current.
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