Read Book Girl and the Captive Fool for Free Online Page B

on trips together on foot. They were good friends their whooole lives, even after they got old.”
    While Tohko was eagerly relating episodes from Mushanokōjiand Shiga’s friendship, she grabbed sheets of discarded paper, tearing them up and munching on them.
    “Hmmm. I think the lines are a little too long and that’s watering down the taste. Rhythm is the lifeblood of dialogue. The important lines need a calm, unhurried beat, like you’re chopping up a carrot with a kitchen knife. The comic scenes move the knife with a short, quick beat. Bam-bam-
bam!
    “Oh! This part is fantastic! It’s like perfectly chilled tofu sliding down my throat. This is it! This is the taste of Mushanokōji.
    “Ugh. This part is
sooo
tough. There’s a burned-up shrimp tail inside my tofuuu!
    “Ooh, this part is so warm and tasty! It’s like I took a bite and have to blow on it before I can swallow. Konoha, you’re a genius!”
    Dropping parts and picking others up, she crinkled and crunched through the script I’d written.
    “Why are you eating the parts that I balled up and threw away? It’s going to give you diarrhea.”
    She lifted her long lashes just a touch at that, dyed in the honey-colored light of the western sun that shone through the window, and her lips curved into a smile.
    “No, it won’t. Your snacks have toughened me up, so my stomach’s not gonna be bested by these little scraps of nothing. Besides, they’re simple and delicious—like getting the crusts of bread from a bakery, maybe? And eeevery once in a while, there’s a smudge of strawberry or blueberry jam still on them, and then I feel like I hit the jackpot.”
    I was aghast at how truly insatiable Tohko could be when it came to “food.” But I got a strange ticklish sensation deep in my chest as I watched her carefully smooth out the messed-up pages, tear them up with her slender fingers, and then bring them eagerly to her lips.
    “So how has Akutagawa been since we talked to him?” Tohko asked around a piece of paper in her mouth.
    “Nothing out of the ordinary. Same as ever.”
    After that day we went home together, I hadn’t had any deep conversations with him. The more I tried to find out about him, the less I could hide about myself. About my past, about who I used to like, about what had happened to her. I didn’t want anyone to know about that.
    I told Sarashina that I was sorry, but I couldn’t get anything out of him. I felt a little guilty meeting someone else’s girlfriend alone in an empty hallway during a break.
    When Sarashina found out that Akutagawa was going to be in a play for the culture fair, she seemed shocked.
    “You said… Kazushi is going to be in your play? Really?” she had murmured in her frail voice, her head drooping as tears gathered in her eyes.
    As Tohko chomped on the script, she mumbled, “You don’t have many friends, Konoha. You should treasure Akutagawa.”
    That word sent a sharp chill through my very core.
    Were we friends? Akutagawa and me?
    Sure, we shared our notes from class and talked to each other, but… we weren’t like Nojima and Omiya, discussing our futures or getting advice on love or experiencing such strong friendship that it brought us to tears, and we had never wanted to do everything in our power to help the other.
    The bond between Nojima and Omiya was strong and beautiful. But then, if they hadn’t been such good friends that they shared their every thought, Omiya would never have suffered so much for loving Sugiko, and Nojima could have avoided being hurt by Omiya’s betrayal.
    Yeah—if they hadn’t expected anything from others or opened up so much, then they wouldn’t have lost anything or been disappointed…
    That was why I would never trust anyone or love the way Nojima had.
    “I’m so glad Akutagawa agreed to perform. Wouldn’t it be great if everyone loved the play and our membership went up?”
    Hugging her knees on the fold-up chair in the twilight, Tohko’s eyes