The Cat Who Saved Books(8)

“I’m delighted to hear that.”

The voice resounded from somewhere deep among the display cases.

Rintaro followed the source of the voice through the room from bookcase to bookcase, and finally came across a tall man sitting in a white chair.

He wore a suit in the exact same bright white as the polished floor. Sitting with crossed legs in a small swivel chair, his eyes were fixed on the thick book open on his lap. The cases on the far side of his chair had no books in them yet. In other words, they had come to the farthest point of the collection, deep inside the storeroom.

“Welcome to my study.”

The man glanced up at Rintaro.

He had a gentle smile, but a keen gaze, revealing a man of great sophistication.

Rintaro recalled that the woman had mentioned appearances on television and radio. This man looked like someone you would see on TV.

“He looks really smart,” muttered Rintaro to the cat.

“Are you that easily intimidated? Stay strong!”

The man’s gaze switched from Rintaro to the cat.

“Are you the ones here to discuss ‘book matters’?”

“Well, um . . .”

The man’s eyes flashed coldly at Rintaro’s tepid response.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m rather busy. I really don’t have the time to sit around idly chatting with some boy—particularly one who turns up unannounced, doesn’t even bother to introduce himself, and then just stands there like a deer in the headlights.”

“Oh, sorry. My name’s Rintaro Natsuki.” Hurriedly readjusting his posture, Rintaro gave a deep bow. “Please excuse us for intruding.”

“I see,” replied the man with narrowed eyes. “Now what is this vital information you have for me? If it has to do with books, then I suppose I’d like to hear it.”

Rintaro had been put on the spot, and he had nothing to say. The vital information had never existed. He looked desperately at the cat.

“We’ve come to free your books.” The cat’s white whiskers twitched as it spoke.

The man’s eyes narrowed farther as he looked down at the cat. There was something menacing in his gaze.

“I really don’t have a minute to spare. I have my TV and radio appearances to prepare for, and so many lectures and articles to write. I do manage to squeeze out some time to cast my eyes over these books—my collection comes from all over the world. But I don’t have time to deal with raving lunatics.”

He sighed deeply, making a show of looking at his wristwatch.

“I’ve already wasted two precious minutes listening to you. If you’ve finished, I’d like you to leave now.”

But the cat wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“We’re not done talking.”

“I already told you to leave.” The man glared at the tenacious tabby. “I’ve only read sixty-five of my hundred-book quota so far. Get out.”

“A hundred books?” Rintaro couldn’t help but ask. “You read a hundred books a year?”

“Not a year,” the man replied, theatrically turning the next page in his book.

“A month,” he continued, with great pomposity. “And that is why I’m so busy. I welcomed you, thinking you were bringing me news that might be to my benefit, but clearly, I was mistaken. If you continue to waste my time, I will have you thrown out. Of course, once you leave this room, I have no idea whether the two of you will ever be able to find your way out again, but that’s no concern of mine.”

His tone was icy. In the abrupt silence that followed, the only sound was the rustle of pages turning. The tabby cat glared at him aggressively, but the man was completely unperturbed. It was as if he’d completely forgotten his visitors’ existence.

There was nothing more to be said. Rintaro was looking around helplessly when his gaze fell on one of the display cases. The man’s collection really was varied, or perhaps, simply random; the shelves were filled not only with regular books, but also magazines, maps, dictionaries. Nothing was arranged in any sequence, or relating to any particular field.

Natsuki Books also had a remarkable collection, but Rintaro’s grandpa had always had some kind of system to his shelf arrangement. In contrast, despite its impressive appearance, the man’s collection was, in fact, total chaos.

Rintaro took a deep breath.

“Have you read all of Nietzsche?”

He was looking at the bookcase right behind the man. All of Nietzsche’s works, including the famous Thus Spoke Zarathustra, along with collections of his letters, were lined up inside the glass case.

“I like Nietzsche, too,” he added.

“There are people all over the world who claim to like Nietzsche,” replied the man, without lifting his head from his book. “However, there are very few people who say this after having read all his work. They’ve seen the odd quotation or some watered-down, abridged version. They try Nietzsche on for size like some fashionable overcoat. Are you one of those, too?”

Rintaro was quick to respond.

“‘Scholars who at bottom do little nowadays but thumb books . . . ultimately lose entirely their capacity to think for themselves. When they don’t thumb, they don’t think.’”

The man slowly lifted his head from his book.