The day was quiet. When Kikimura woke up, he forgot where he was for a moment.
There were no voices or any movement. It seemed like nobody was around.
He got up. Walked into the hallway. He was scared of the beast from the day. He didn't get a chance to explore the house much. But now he wanted to understand where he was.
He found the room where the old man had questioned him. It had a table, chairs and a window facing the grassland.
He explored the house more.
Then he found a door at the end of the hallway. It was different from the doors.. Made of darker wood. He remembered seeing it the day. It was the door that led to the library.
Kikimura opened the door. The room was huge. Much bigger than it should be. There were books on the walls, on shelves and on a table. The shelves went all the way up to the ceiling. There was a ladder on wheels in the middle of the room.
The room smelled like leather and paper. It was like the smell of books getting older.
Kikimura walked into the room slowly, not wanting to disturb the silence. The books were organised well. Not just thrown together, but arranged by subject.
He ran his fingers over the spines of the books, reading the titles.
"Principles of Natural Magic."
"The Five Elements: A Study."
"Combat. Practice."
"The History of the Three Schools."
He pulled out one of the books at random. The pages were yellow. They were in good condition. The cover was leather. It was stitched together by hand. This book was really old.
Kikimura walked through the sections of books. There were books on plants, philosophy and languages he didn't understand. There were books with pictures of the human body. Really. Accurate. There were books of poetry and math. History. Strategy. Theory.
There were thousands of books. This was not a library for someone who just wanted to collect things. This was a library for someone who loved learning. Someone who valued knowledge.
Kikimura got lost in the books. Hours passed. He did not even notice. He moved from section to section, pulling out books and reading parts that caught his attention.
He found a book on the history of demon attacks. Opened it carefully.
"The second incursion lasted 50 years. It was not the demon's strength that nearly destroyed us. Our own division. Those who fought separately fell. Those who stood together prevailed. This lesson seems forgotten by each generation."
Kikimura stopped reading. His mind went still.
The academy said the second demon incursion lasted 2 years and 5 years of battle in total. He remembered the lesson clearly. Professor Harren had taught it. "2 years of darkness ", the man had said. "Humanity prevailed through strength and unity."
This book said three seasons.
One of them was lying. The academy... Or the history written in this book?
Kikimura felt something shift inside him. A crack in what he thought he knew. Who was telling the truth?. If the academy was wrong about this, what else were they wrong about?
He pulled out a philosophy text with trembling fingers.
"What defines a person, their birth, their choices or their ability to change? Some argue we are slaves to circumstance. Others claim we are architects of our fate. The truth perhaps lies in understanding which battles we can win and which we must endure."
He read it three times.
Was he defined by his birth? By being called cursed? By his body and his lack of magic?. Could he be something else? Could he choose to be something?
Here in this house surrounded by a thousand books... Maybe. Maybe he could be more than what his village had told him he was.
He found a book on combat strategy with diagrams and margins full of notes.
"Strength without speed is predictable. Speed without strength is ineffective. The master combines both while understanding that wisdom is knowing when to use neither."
The words were simple. They opened something in his mind. Training. This was a book written by someone who understood combat very well.
Then he found a section. Carefully. Marked with a black book.
"The Forbidden Study of Dark Magic: Theory, Practice and Moral Implications."
He found the book that got his attention the last time he visited the library.
Kikimura's hand hovered over the book. At school, they taught that dark magic was bad. Evil. This book was here in this house in a library with thousands of chosen books.
He pulled out the book slowly. The pages were full of text. Like a scholar wrote it. The author talked about magic as if it were history or math with curiosity and careful analysis.
He read some parts:
"Dark magic uses the persons strength, not outside things. It is harder on the user but also more personal."
"People who use magic a lot might change psychologically. That is not because of the magic. It is because they are dealing with emotions."
"If someone practices magic carefully and is disciplined, they can stay balanced when using a lot of power."
But there was more:
"The greatest danger is not that dark magic is evil. The greatest danger is that those who fear it refuse to understand it. Fear without knowledge has destroyed more than magic ever could."
Nowhere in the book did it say that dark magic was evil. Instead, it was like the author was trying to understand it.
Kikimura sat down at the table with the book in front of him. He read for hours. Lost track of time. He read about magic. About the history that contradicts what the academy taught. About philosophy that questioned everything he'd been told.
When he heard footsteps, he jumped. The girl appeared in the doorway with a plate of rice and vegetables.
"Grandfather said you would be hungry ", she said. "You missed lunch."
Kikimura realised the light coming through the window had changed. The sun was lower now. Going toward evening. He had been reading since morning.
"I—" He wanted to hide the book. He was too slow. She had already seen it.
The girl walked in. Put the plate on the table, moving a book to make room. She looked at the cover of the book in his hands. Her face did not change. Something in her eyes did.
"Are you interested in magic?" she asked quietly.
Kikimura closed the book. "I was just—"
"Curious ", she finished. She sat down across from him. "It is natural. Most people do not see books like that."
She looked at him carefully, like she was making a decision.
"Don't ever mention that you found this section ", she said quietly. Her voice was serious. "Not unless he asks. Some things are complicated. Grandfather does not like talking about them unless he decides to."
Kikimura said, "I will not—"
"Eat ", she said, pointing to the plate. "You need to get better. Your body is still healing."
She stood up. Walked toward the door.
"Wait ", Kikimura said. "What is your name?"
The girl stopped at the doorway. She did not turn around. For a time, she did not answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was really quiet.
"That is not important now."
She left before he could ask anything else.
Kikimura sat in the library, the food getting cold on the plate beside him.
This girl is strange. Sometimes she seems normal and playful. At times, she becomes distant and protective. Like she has personalities.
He looked at the book in front of him, at the plate of food, and at the endless shelves of books around him. Collected over decades by someone who lived by rules Kikimura did not understand.
A person who did not share his name.
A girl who would not share hers.
A house full of secrets hidden in the grassland where nobody from his village would ever think to look.
For the time since entering the forest, Kikimura wondered: What if his life was not ending?
What if it was starting something
Something he could not yet imagine?
He picked up his rice. Started eating. The book stayed on the table beside his plate. A promise of mysteries he would understand later.
Outside, the grassland stretched out endlessly under the darkening sky. Somewhere in that emptiness, the old man and the girl kept doing their mysterious routines, keeping secrets that Kikimura was only starting to suspect existed.
By morning, everything would change. He'll leave this house for the first time.