Chapter Text
“Hanagaki Takemichi,
I love you. I have loved you in all my days, and I wish to do something splendid to show you my love, for no good gifts could ever compare to the one I want. Everyday, I choose to love you.
Please forgive me for not showing myself. The truth is, I am afraid. I am not who you would expect. In fact, I have written and re-written this letter until the page has worn out and so too, did the essence of my entire being. Such is the effect you have on me.
If you shall be generous enough to give me a chance, I will wait for you at 01:31:14.
Truly,
Yours (because that’s all I am today, yesterday, tomorrow, and forever)”
Takemichi stared at the letter. Or rather, it stared at him, daring him to look away, to ignore the desperate and yearning plea inscribed in each neat, typewritten letter dancing across the surface of the paper.
“Woah there,” whistled Chifuyu, peering over his shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got yourself quite a mysterious Romeo.”
“Shut up,” he said, ignoring his roommate’s amused chuckles.
Takemichi picked up the letter again for what must have been the dozenth time since it had fallen out of the book he was reading. The paper felt heavy in his hand, the ink rich and smudge-proof when he glides his fingers over words. Luxury stationery at its finest. Which unfortunately didn’t help him to discern its owner much, considering most of the Academy’s students were filthy rich.
There was nothing particularly outstanding about the wordings itself either. He didn’t know anyone who wrote like that in their everyday life. The prose was overly sappy and pretentious, as if its author had only recently picked up a random novel from the 19th century and strung together the only words he recognized. The message, even more absurd.
Although he wasn’t a big fan of romance literature, he could see the appeal in loving someone you admired from afar, could envision how it would play out from the countless Jane Austen works Chifuyu had forced him to read. But for it to happen to him?
His eat-the-rich attitude, scholarship status, and middle-class background had acquired him a certain reputation amongst his old money, trust fund classmates. His last – and only – relationship at the Academy ended in his boyfriend’s father offering to pay him an exorbitant amount to keep away from his son. Takemichi broke up with Hina the next day, not waiting for him to explain.
Which was incidentally the reason why he was spending most of his time in the library while other people were out joining societies or playing rugby.
But that second line kept coming back to him. Where had he seen it before?
Takemichi lifted the book, a paperback copy of Little Men by Louisa May Alcott, and turned it every this way and that. Under the dim light of the green reading lamp, he could see not a single thread of binding or a printed image out of place. In all aspect, an inconspicuous object.
He flipped the book over to the pocket of the front cover. The library card was stained with coffee or tea, the names scribbled on carelessly. Apparently, no one had checked out the book in the past five years ago. Not a total surprise. He could hardly imagine its predecessor, Little Women, being popular among rowdy post-pubescent blokes, let alone its more obscure sequel. At least the former was a first-edition leather-bound hardback that you could not check out from the library. He looked at the miserable condition of Little Men’s dog-eared pages and felt a sort of sympathy to the object.
A chime of the bell indicated the library’s closing time. He heard the people around him shuffling to pack up their belongings. Nodding a smile to the librarian, Chifuyu and Takemichi exited the library and crossed the arched hallway back to their shared dorm room.
As they walked, Takemichi was still clouded with the intrigue of the love letter, his mind racing with different possibilities. It must have been a prank, he concluded after much thought, and he told Chifuyu as such. His friend only laughed.
“You’re giving yourself less credit than you deserve,” he threw his head back as he walked backwards, facing Takemichi. “What’s the harm in indulging in a little daydream?”
“I wouldn’t put it past some of our camarades to think it would be a hilarious joke on me,” he responded.
“Why don’t you just go see who he is first?” Chifuyu said. “He said he’s waiting for you.”
That much was obvious. What was less so, was the peculiar instruction on how to find him. 01:31:14. A time precise to the second, but no date nor day nor location.
“What if I don’t like him?” he asked.
“Who says you have to date him once you see him?” Chifuyu shrugged. “And, at least you can rule out Sanzu Haruchiyo. That dumbbell would just outright stalk you like he’s trying to pester you now.”
As if on cue, he turned his head back to where Chifuyu was looking at, only to see the flip of a white lab coat turning around the corner. He had to agree with his partner, Sanzu had made it very clear that he had a strange obsession with Takemichi, although positive or negative, he couldn’t tell. At any rate, Sanzu was definitely not someone who would be afraid of anything, let alone of Takemichi.
“His sister was so nice, totally the opposite of that psycho. You think all that drugs he’s been inhaling’s finally got to his genes?” Chifuyu continued.
“That’s not how science works,” he rolled his eyes.
Despite his lack of tact and abundance of grudge, Chifuyu was right again. Everybody got along with Sanzu’s siste-.
Sisters. Family.
“Little Women!” he shouted, stopping dead on his tracks.
“Hey, you can’t just shout that without sounding creepy!” Chifuyu hurried to shush him.
Pulling Chifuyu’s hand away from his mouth and pointing to the book he was holding, he breathed, “The line, “no good gifts could ever compare to the one I want,” I read it in the original novel. No wonder it felt familiar.”
He felt incredibly daft, he’d just finished reading the book a few days ago. Whoever this secret admirer was, they knew he had read it and would move on to the next book in the series eventually. Were they watching him? Observing his reactions? They could even still be there!
“We need to go back to the library!” he nudged Chifuyu excitedly. “I need to read the book again.”
“You think your Mr. Darcy is hidden in a children’s book?”
“No, but there might be some clues. And stop saying wrong names, idiot. Have you even read it?”
“When I was ten! What then, is his name? Lorry?”
“Lawrence. Laurie for short.”
“Alright, your Mr. Laurie can wait until tomorrow. The library’s closed now anyway. Let’s go back to our room before curfew or Kisaki’s going to snitch us out to the Head Tutor again.”
Why did Chifuyu always have to be right? But if there was one thing more annoying than that, it was the length Kisaki would go to make sure his life was as miserable as it could get. Takemichi would have dubbed him his arch nemesis if it wasn’t for the fact that he didn’t have an ego large enough to think he was the protagonist of some story. Unlike Kisaki and his impossible illusion of grandeur.
That night, he laid in bed staring at the ceiling, for once completely ignorant of Chifuyu’s snores. To no avail, he’d hoped the snowy moonlight shining through their window would wring out a confession of the love letter in place of its author.
What would he say to him once he found him? Surely this situation was too bizarre, he’d had to decline. Then why had he memorized every single word on the page? Why had the eagerness of this supposed Laurie touch him so strongly?
He went to sleep with the letter tucked underneath his pillow.
The next morning, skipping breakfast and evading Chifuyu’s questioning looks, Takemichi headed straight for the library. He had never been so glad to see the librarian already dozing off at her desk.
Miss Mai was as ancient as the treasures she guarded, albeit in a clumsy, hazy way. Despite looking surprisingly stout for a woman in her later years, he was sure that anything louder than a whisper would crumble her.
Lightly tapping on the counter, he called out to her, “Excuse me, Miss Mai?”
“Black pudding! My goodness!” Miss Mai startled awake, her glasses almost falling off the bridge of her nose. “How can I help you, dear?”
“May I read Little Women again?”
Being a rare collector’s item, there was only one copy that you needed to ask for if you wanted to read it. And you couldn’t bring it out of the library. But on the other hand, you didn’t need to sign in your name if you read it there.
“Ah, yes, excellent choice dear. You’d love it.”
Miss Mai didn’t even remember he’d asked for it once before. He was starting to feel nervous about actually being able to find his Laurie.
“Do you remember who last asked for this book?” he asked her. “After me?”
Miss Mai readjusted her glasses and leaned her chin on her hand, closing her eyes and humming. Takemichi was afraid she was dozing off again.
“It was a young man,” Miss Mai clapped her hands excitedly after several long minutes. “Yes, yes, there is no mistaking that it was indeed a chap.”
She looked justly proud of herself to be helpful that Takemichi did not have the heart to remind her they were an all-boys school. It was impossible for it not to be a chap.
“Do you remember what he looked like? Perhaps his height, build, hair color,…?” he tried again.
“Hmmm. He was tall,” she answered.
Finally. That was a good starting point. There weren’t a lot of students taller than Miss Mai.
“Or maybe he was your height. Perhaps even shorter? Quite difficult to judge from this desk, I’m afraid. I’m terribly sorry, dear, my memory’s getting fuzzy these days. Did you know, back in the days when…”
Takemichi tuned out the rest of Miss Mai’s chatters. Back to square one, it was.
Plopping himself down his usual seat with the copy of Little Women in hand, he recounted what he knew so far.
It was possible that Laurie had a copy of his own, but Takemichi was a fast reader, he’d only randomly decided to pick the book up and finish it this week. And they weren’t allowed to leave the campus for the nearby village to do any kind of shopping during the school week.
Additionally, he knew Little Men wasn’t checked out, but it was definitely taken off the shelf and then re-shelved. And Miss Mai, the librarian, was very particular about her shelves, if there was one thing she could still remember. So Laurie wasn’t here that often, at least not to be a repeat offender.
Conclusion?
Someone had been watching him from his corner, following his schedule. Someone who only recently would frequent the library. And, according to the letter itself, someone he wouldn’t expect. That ruled out most of his friends (not that he had that many to begin with), including Chifuyu, who only tagged along with him when he couldn’t find anyone else to bother.
Takemichi must have seen this guy around here at least once, especially if he was in close enough proximity to observe him. The library was extensive, but small and straightforward in a purely architectural standpoint. One can presumably hide between the rows of bookshelves, although that would make a curious sight that Takemichi would surely notice.
He looked around again, scanning for any familiar faces. A tall, muscular boy wearing round glasses he’d seen around the campus, although he was certain the boy was a half of a brother duo. Were they twins? He couldn’t tell, but he’d always preferred this one more. His brother was almost always smiling creepily. Round Glasses always had a scowl on his face, but he never said much.
There was also the blond Captain of the Fencing club who he couldn’t remember the name, but only recognized from the loose white linen blouse with the unbuttoned collar, collarbones glistening with sweat. The guy had a habit of slumping over his desk, whether he was sleepy or was too near-sighted that he had to squint that close to read, Takemichi wasn’t sure.
Occasionally, Kisaki would come waltzing in like he owned the place. Or maybe he did, his father donated huge sums to the Academy even before he enrolled. Most days, Kisaki would leave him alone to avoid disturbing the quietness in the library. Takemichi always made sure to slink back to an even deeper corner whenever that jerk started approaching him with a smug grin.
He was sure there was one or two more people who at the moment weren’t here, but their faces had escaped his memory. Tussling his hair in frustration at his obliviousness, he blamed himself for not reading any more Sherlock Holmes or Agatha Christie.
Instead, Takemichi stared at the two volumes of Alcott’s works in front of him. The intricate golden embossment on Little Women was much more alluring compared to the rough, cracked spine of Little Men. As if to compensate or to signal its relevance, the cover had a large number 2 that covered a quarter of the design, even bigger than the author’s name.
Number 2. 02.
01:31:14
What if the instruction wasn’t a time, but a place? More specifically, somewhere in the first book, number 01. And if they were going in a descending order of quantity, then 31 must have meant chapter 31, and consequently paragraph 14. Takemichi hurriedly flipped through the book to the indicated passage.
“Today was fair, and we went to Hyde Park, close by, for we are more aristocratic than we look. The Duke of Devonshire lives near. I often see his footmen lounging at the back gate, and the Duke of Wellington’s house is not far off. Such sights as I saw, my dear!”
Several names stood out to him. Neither Wellington nor Devonshire were actual place names in the country. There was a park in the village, although regrettably not named Hyde. Did Laurie want him to hide there somewhere? Or maybe it was a reference to some kind of expensive cow skin rugs?
And then it hit him.
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. There was definitely something in that book that would lead him to Laurie.
Takemichi jumped up from his seat and rushed to the shelf for “S” authors. In his hurry, he crashed into something too soft to be a wall. A hand pulled at his arm to help him steady himself.
“Don’t you know you shouldn’t run in the library?” a voice laughed.
He looked up, and there was Kurokawa Izana, the Student President. Takemichi had only ever really observed him from the crowd in the auditorium when the other was making a speech or an announcement, although it was true that he’d seen him in the library much more recently.
This was the first time they’d spoken, and yet the intense gaze in those violet eyes made him heat up instantly. Izana was still not letting go of his arm.
Come to think of it, he was as unexpected as the word could mean.
Was Izana the Laurie he was looking for?
“Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don’t let it spoil you, for it’s wicked to throw away so many good gifts because you can’t have the one you want.” – Louisa May Alcott, Little Women.