I stood in the rain, an umbrella hovering overhead. The library felt like a grand castle and looked like one too. It had rough-hewn stone walls and a large wooden door, carved with patterns so fine it looked like wood shavings. No wonder its most popular genre was fantasy. I could barely find Lord of the Rings last time I came here. A contrastingly modern sign out the front, made of now soggy cardboard rimmed with metal said, “Due to the rain, please close after entering. Thank you!”
I pushed the door open with my shoulder. Surprisingly, it was relatively lightweight. The light and heat trickled in, catching in a raindrop that burst into color for just a moment. I walked in and sealed the door behind me. I looked around. There was a librarian’s desk right in front, strewn with papers. A bulletin board behind it was also plastered, with only a few strong and carefully placed pins holding on, like Atlas holding up the sky.
I started walking in the neverending shelves of the nonfiction section. I had developed a habit when checking libraries for passions. Nonfiction by going through the Dewey decimal system, then fiction through genre, Adventure to Mystery to Literary Fiction, everything except for romance. I also checked the kids’ section. Yes, I know, but in my defense, children’s books are a great introduction to different topics. Anyway, so I was wandering around the kids’ section, sort of trying to get out of the staring range of a couple of kids, when I slammed into someone. I rubbed my head, an ache holding on to it like a spiderweb. I forced my eyes open and the blur cleared out into focus. My eyes fell on her face. I could tell from her size and weight when I hit her she was probably a young adult. She still had a few kidlike elements to her, though, like long orange braids and these round chrome glasses. I actually found them quite endearing. The children watching us awkward young adults burst into laughter and began convulsing on the floor. I rubbed a bump on my head and murmured then half-yelled as I regained reason, “sorry… I’m super sorry this was all my fault.”
“Oh, no it’s fine. I’m Catherine, by the way.” She smiled. Her slightly stained yellow teeth were surprisingly beautiful, more natural than perfectly white. The imperfection made them charming. My cheeks felt warm for just a moment.
“A- Akihito,” I said.
We got back up and I straightened my jacket. “Anyway, why are you here?” I gestured around.
“Why are you?” She made a sly smile.
“Er… I was just browsing.”
“What a weasel. Cat got your tongue? What’s the real reason? There are so many other places to ‘browse’ other than here.” She leaned over me slightly.
I sighed. “Fine, but you have to tell me yours. You’re here too.”
She nodded. “I have nothing to hide. I was looking for a book I really loved as a kid. I remembered it recently, though I’m not sure of it’s name. My heart will recognize it though.” She hugged an imaginary book like she was hugging her long-lost friend. The children, who had recovered and were now pulling themselves up from the floor, took one glance at us and fell back down again. “Anyway...” I pointed my thumb back at them, “Let’s go someplace else for now.”
She nodded. “There’s a cafe thing here! I’ve heard they make these really cute mug cakes. Let’s go!” She dashed off.
“Hey, wait up!” I ran to follow her. The children continued dying.
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