Mizuki Nomura - Book Girl and the Captive Fool

She was too pure, too beautiful

There was a fledgling scriptwriter who paid tribute to the woman he loved with those words, but when I was in middle school, I was trapped in a mire of passion that made his pale in comparison.

When I woke in the mornings, my first thought was of Mius face. Her tea-colored almond eyes and her plump lips. The rustle of her brown hair tied up in a high ponytail.

Miu always peeked at me with teasing, playful looks.

Good morning, Konoha.

Good morning, Miu.

Every morning I would greet the Miu of my imagination. Her eyes would crinkle with her smile, and joy would shoot through my heart. I would head to the bathroom in a haze of nervous excitement, eager to get to school so I could see the real Miu just one minuteone secondsooner.

How would Miu smile at me today? Would she be teasing me today? How far had she gotten in the story she was writing? I wanted to see her! I wanted to hear her voice and see her smile.

I couldnt wait to get to school, and I would linger under a sycamore along the way until Miu came. When she appeared, bathed in pure light, her ponytail bobbing, I would pretend that I had only just gotten there and run up to her shouting, Miu! Miu!

She was all I could think about during classes, too. When her seat was behind mine, I would turn around constantly during the day, and the sight of her bangs falling across her forehead or of her lowered lashes never failed to send a thrill through my heart. When we changed seats and her desk was diagonally in front of me, I never grew tired of gazing at the slender taper of her neck or her profile that reminded me of a budding flower.

Miu usually had a sky blue binder open in front of her, writing a story on loose-leaf paper.

Writing out the dreamlike world she was creating

The beautiful words that flashed and danced like light on the page.

When they streamed from Mius lips, the words shone even fresher and more beautiful, driving me ever deeper into my dreams.

Youre special, you know. Im only showing this to you, Konoha.

Every word Miu spoke to me was sweet like sugar drops.

Back then, I was walking on air, an utter fool for love; with her smiles washing over me, I was an incorrigible dreamer.

I assumed that Miu would, of course, feel the same way about me, and I never doubted even for a moment that we were bound together by destiny.

Even after we started high school, even after we went to college, even after we got jobs, Miu would be at my side, writing her stories and calling my name with a teasing smile. And that wasnt all. Some day Miu would become a real author, and everyone would know how good she was. Thats what I believed.

But in the spring of our last year of middle school, I debuted under the pen name of Miu Inoue as a brilliant, mysterious author who happened to be a lovely fourteen-year-old girl, and I lost Miu.

And now, in my second year of high school

Im a perfectly normal high school boy, going to class like anyone else, and I go to the book clubs room after school and write snacks for my not-at-all-normal club president.