Read or Die:Volume1 Epilogue

It was an ordinary little bookstore.

Right by the station,nothing special, just the kind of place students and office workers stop by on their way to or from school or work. The shop mostly carried magazines and manga, with a decent assortment of paperbacks, maps, guidebooks, and novels. The selection wasn’t bad, though it couldn’t compare to a large bookstore.

Still, it was enough to get by. I was old, but with a single cat for company, at least I didn’t have to worry about putting food on the table. Shifting magazines around got harder every year, but what could you do?

But lately, the local convenience store had started eating into my magazine sales. My only son had moved to the city, living alone in a little apartment.

Sometimes I thought about moving to a retirement home myself, but I didn’t have nearly enough saved up.

Month by month, sales slipped a little further, gnawing at me along with the neuralgia.

And then, one day,

“Um…”

A woman stood at the register. Long hair, awkward glasses, a heavy coat draped over her even though it was spring, dragging a suitcase as if she was on a journey.

Behind those glasses, her eyes drooped slightly, giving her an odd vulnerability, something that might bring out people’s teasing. I couldn’t tell if she was a student or a working woman, but she looked like the sort who’d been pushed around a lot.

She repeated herself, her voice thin and flustered.

“Um…”

“Yes?”

I answered, perhaps a bit sharper than necessary, a big no-no in this business, but I couldn’t help it.

She seemed to flinch a little, but with newfound determination, spoke again.

“I’d like a book, please.”

“…”

A gentle silence hung in the air.

“Well, this is a bookstore. Of course we sell books. But as you can see, there are all kinds of books. If you don’t pick one, I can’t sell it to you.”

Why was I being so prickly? Even I was surprised, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“N-no, that’s not what I meant…”

“What do you read? Magazines? If it’s manga, those shelves over there.”

Despite my brusque attitude, the woman stubbornly held her ground.

“A book,” she insisted.

“That’s what I’m saying…”

“All the books.”

“Huh?”

She spread her arms wide and gestured around the store.

“I’d like all the books in this store, please.”

“………………………”

I thought she was joking. Or maybe a madwoman.

But she was neither.

One Week Later

Sagawa Mitsuharu (67), having just moved into the “Hidamari Ryokō” nursing home on the outskirts of Tokyo, set a photograph on the shelf as soon as he entered his new room.

In the photo, Sagawa stands by the entrance, holding a makeshift banner reading “Congratulations on Our Closing,” flashing a V-sign. In the background, you can see young guys from the moving company packing up every book on the shelves. And right next to him, that customer with the big, awkward glasses, smiling sheepishly, yet still making a clumsy V-sign for the camera.

It was a precious memento from the last day of Sagawa Bookstore.

A staff member noticed and asked,

“Is that your granddaughter?”

“Not at all,” Sagawa said, pressing his hands together in reverence.

“She’s a goddess.”

“I did it! I did it again! Oh no, what am I doing?”

Yomiko Readman was on the train, holding her head in dismay.

She’d just returned from overseas after a month away. She made it from Narita Airport to Shinjuku, then tried to catch the Sobu Line home, only to fall asleep and end up all the way out in Chiba.

If that was all, she could have just turned around and gone home, but when she spotted the word “Bookstore” from the platform, she felt a jolt, her body moved on its own. She rushed out of the station, and as soon as she entered, she got swept away by all the unread magazines and new releases, and before she knew it, she’d all but bought out the shop and forced another bookstore to close.

“Why… why am I like this?”

Even she found her own book obsession scary sometimes. Maybe she’d changed the course of someone else’s life today.

Either way, the pay she’d just received for a month-long “D-BOOKS” job had disappeared in an instant.

To put it simply, Yomiko was broke. Her salary as a British Library agent, and the occasional pay from substitute teaching, all vanished into her enormous book bills and the rent for multiple apartments needed just to store them.

Luckily, she didn’t care about fashion, and wasn’t picky about food, so her other expenses were shockingly low. If she’d spent like an ordinary woman her age, she’d have starved long ago.

But more importantly, where was she even going to put all those books when the store’s delivery arrived?

For her own sanity, Yomiko decided not to think about that for now.

Once again, she resolved to reflect on her “entire bookstore purchase” and swore to turn over a new leaf.

“I’ve decided…”

She declared out loud, even though no one was around to hear.

“I’m not buying any more books for a while!”

“Thank you for riding with us. We’ll be arriving at Ochanomizu shortly.”

As if to cheer her on, the train rolled into Ochanomizu, her home station.

Yomiko lived in Jinbōchō, just down the slope, a town famous as the world’s largest book district, where bookstore signs could be seen everywhere from big chains to used bookshops tucked away in alleys.

The only reason Yomiko settled here was, simply, “because there are so many books and I can buy them easily.” So now, as she walked through Jinbōchō, her self-imposed “book ban” felt like a smoker touring a tobacco factory, or a dieter walking into a buffet.

“Nnngh… grrr…”

Yomiko groaned, pacing in front of Shosen Bookmart, a big shop at the bottom of the hill known for its huge subculture and music selection. This was her first trial of the day.

If she just hurried past, there’d be no problem, but like iron filings to a magnet, the bookstore tugged her closer.

What if they had new arrivals that hadn’t shown up at the last store…?

Once she started thinking like that, she was doomed. Her feet moved on their own, and soon she was inside.

“…I said I wouldn’t buy books. I never said I wouldn’t go into bookstores.”

Yomiko added another mental loophole and stepped through the doors.

“Aah!”

She let out a weird little cry as she walked in, earning a startled look from the cashier. But Yomiko didn’t care, her whole focus was on the new release display.

There it was: Muscle Lady: 1,000,000 Volts, by Ara Fudemura, one of her must-buy authors.

“Uuugh…”

Yomiko slumped weakly to the floor.

“Why did a new book have to come out today, of all days? God, why are you so mean?”

Of course, the gods don’t decide book release dates, but today, she felt like blaming them.

“Aah…”

Yomiko agonized. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes since she’d made her vow.

But Fudemura’s books were infamous for being returned or going out of print almost immediately after release. If she didn’t buy it now, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

She was at a crossroads:

Buy it and read it at home!? Or miss her chance and regret it forever!?

READ OR DIE? READ OR DIE!?

“…!”

Yomiko straightened with determination.

“Sorry, Fudemura-sensei!”

She spun around and made for the exit, “Huh?” but a poster caught her eye.

“Um… Is it okay if I get five copies of this?”

“Yes,”

She placed five copies of Muscle Lady: 1,000,000 Volts on the counter.

One to read, one to keep, one to lend, one for an autograph someday, and a spare. Yet, somehow, they always got lost in the tide of books in her room.

“Would you like covers?”

“No, that’s fine. Actually, um, that,”

Yomiko pointed at the wall poster: “Meet Fudemura Ara! Buy the new book Muscle Lady: 1,000,000 Volts for a ticket to the autograph event!”

That’s right, reading wasn’t even the point. She was only buying it for the autograph. Really, this was less a book than a ticket voucher, wasn’t it? Of course, of course, that’s what it was.

Her mental shelves grew another layer.

“Oh, about that…”

“Yes. So, can I get five tickets? I can, right?”

“Um, actually…”

The cashier gave an awkward look.

“That was supposed to be tomorrow, but… The author’s flown out to Venezuela for a sudden interview, so it’s been canceled.”

“Whaaat!?”

Yomiko felt something inside her crumble.

“Then why is the poster still up?”

“We haven’t sold a single copy, so nobody’s asked about it. I just forgot to take it down…”

“No way…”

Yomiko hung her head.

“Would you still like to purchase them?”

She looked up, her eyes full of new resolve.

“…Fifty more copies, please.”

Yomiko trudged through the backstreets of Jinbōchō, weighed down with paper bags.

In a narrow, twisting alley stood an old four-story building. Cardboard boxes stacked in the halls, books on every stair, anyone could guess what the rooms inside looked like.

A hand-scrawled sign by the entrance read, “Readman Building.”

The top floor was her home.

Climbing four flights with all those books was exhausting, the elevator was blocked by boxes and unusable.

Finally, she reached the rooftop: a plain, rough little penthouse. She’d started living on a lower floor, but as the books overflowed, she’d been pushed further and further up.

“Whew, whew…”

She caught her breath and glanced out over Jinbōchō, everywhere she looked, books and bookstores, every variety imaginable.

Yomiko made up her mind:

Tomorrow, she’d visit every shop in town and buy up Muscle Lady: 1,000,000 Volts wherever she found it.

She’d get “Ara Fudemura” on every bestseller list.

And this time, she’d write a petition to ensure the autograph event happened for real.

She’d already forgotten the vow she made forty minutes earlier about not buying books.

“I’m home…”

She said it out of habit as she opened her door. No one answered, of course, she lived alone.

Books were stacked everywhere. Supposedly there were bookshelves by the walls, but piles blocked them from view.

A bed, with one end against the window, was plopped right in the middle, layout clearly not a consideration.

“Here goes…”

She stepped carefully into a gap between book piles, then another, following a “beast trail” that wound through the room, her only path to the bed.

“Whoa…”

Maybe it was just that she’d been away, but she lost her balance and flopped onto the bed.

From beneath the newspaper she used as a blanket, a shriek:

“Ow! That hurt!”

She hurriedly yanked the paper aside, revealing a familiar girl rubbing her eyes.

“Hey, watch it!”

It was Sumiregawa Nenene.

“!? Sumiregawa-sensei!?”

“Sensei! Where have you been?!”

“Uh, well, work… But why are you here?!”

“You left without a word, so I came looking for you!”

“How did you get my address…?”

“From the publisher’s survey postcard.”

Yomiko always sent in those survey cards after finishing a book. A blind spot she hadn’t anticipated.

“But… how did you get in?”

“The door was unlocked.”

Yomiko often forgot to lock up, though, with nothing worth stealing, it hardly mattered.

“But… why did you follow me…?”

“I got curious! There’s just something about you, like there’s a secret or two.”

“There’s not! I’m a totally ordinary citizen!”

Nenene’s gaze wandered, unimpressed. “This room isn’t normal. Seriously, no TV, no CDs, not even a computer.”

“I’m not good with machines…”

“Whatever. I’ll be dropping by a lot from now on, okay? Call it research. Interviewing you.”

“…Wait, are you really going to write about this…?”

Yomiko’s shoulders slumped, and her paper bags toppled, scattering books everywhere.

“What’s this? Muscle Lady: 1,000,000 Volts? Sensei, you read stuff like this? You should read my books!”

Nenene was already moving around, poking into corners, beginning her exploration.

“Sensei, sensei, something’s growing in the corner… Whoa! Mushrooms! Hey, when was the last time you cleaned in here?”

Yomiko collapsed, exhausted, on the books.

“You don’t have any other clothes either. Have you been wearing the same thing all this time? That’s kinda weird…”

Yomiko was simply happy Nenene had come. But as a curious high school girl and novelist, how much of Yomiko’s secret agent life would she uncover?

And when that happened, how would the British Library staff react? Her feelings were a mess.

“Aah… Joker’s going to kill me…”

Nenene peered innocently at Yomiko, who was holding her head.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! I’m here for you. This’ll be a happy ending for sure!”

(To be continued)

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