A Story Like a Story in a Book

The real world is always a little bit boring.
At least, that was how it felt to me as a second-year middle school student.
Behind my thick-lensed glasses, I was always swimming in a sea of printed words.
The buzz of the classroom and the sound of footsteps running through the hallway were drowned out and faded away by the sound of turning pages.
Inside a story, I could become anyone.
A brave knight, a wizard, or even a tragic heroine.
That unbearable sense of emptiness I felt the moment I closed a book and was pulled back into reality.
Perhaps that was the very reason I kept heading back to the library.

✅ My Story

"Spectacled Monkey."
I don't know who started calling me that.
But before I knew it, that nickname had permeated the class more than my real name.
I didn't particularly care.
I didn't have the energy to argue, nor did I have any interest in them to begin with.
My world was complete within the after-school library, where the scent of dust and ink mingled.
It was my own sanctuary, where no one could disturb me.

From old novels to the latest literary magazines, I devoured stories one after another.
Every time I finished a book, a new world expanded within me, and the wings of my imagination soared higher and higher.
That alone was enough to make me feel like I could go to school again tomorrow.

Then one day, I suddenly noticed something.
No matter which book's library card I picked up, the same name was always written at the top of the checkout history.
"Kaito Suzuki."
At first, I just thought of him as someone somewhere who liked books just like I did.
But as the number of times I saw that name increased, a small curiosity began to sprout in my heart.

Who on earth is Kaito Suzuki?

The answer was found surprisingly easily.
He was the third-year student council president.
A school star whom the girls would squeal over whenever they passed him in the hallway, and whom the boys also held in high regard.
That was Kaito Suzuki.
Someone like a character in a story, living in a world different from mine.

Ever since I realized that fact, his name on the library cards began to take on a sudden, special meaning.
Did he also read this text I am reading right now?
Did his heart flutter at the same scene, and did he shed tears at the same ending?
Just imagining such things made me feel my cheeks grow hot.

Of course, that didn't mean anything would change.
He remained an unreachable existence, and I was just a "Spectacled Monkey" who read books in the corner of the library.
If we had anything in common, it was just that we had read the same books.
My faint expectations eventually turned into a feeling akin to resignation.

Time passed, and I became a high school student.
I was reasonably good at my studies, so I was able to get into a prestigious local high school.
A new uniform, a new classroom.
And when I saw his figure, where he shouldn't have been, I doubted my own eyes.
Kaito Suzuki.
He, too, had advanced to this high school.
I didn't believe in fate, but for this moment, I wanted to believe in the mischief of the god of stories.

✅ His Story

Even after entering high school, my daily routine didn't change.
The after-school library.
That place, which was much larger and had more books than the one in middle school, became my new sanctuary.
The only thing that was different was that I held a faint hope that "he" might be there.

One afternoon, while I was absorbed in following the pages of a paperback book, a voice suddenly descended from above.

"That book is interesting, isn't it?"

When I looked up, it was Kaito Suzuki standing there.
I desperately tried to suppress my heart, which felt like it was about to jump out of my throat.
He was looking down at the book in my hands, smiling mischievously.

"I like that one too. I never thought there would be someone at the same high school who was reading the same book."

That was our first conversation.
His voice was much gentler and more pleasant than I had imagined.
We naturally hit it off talking about books.
Our favorite authors, passages that stayed in our hearts, and our thoughts on the characters.
He carefully accepted, one by one, the treasure-like feelings I had never shared with anyone else.

From that day on, the distance between us shrank rapidly.
Meeting in the library after school became the norm, and before I knew it, we were walking home together.
He didn't call me "Spectacled Monkey."
I felt like he was looking at the real me behind the thick lenses.
It would be a lie to say I didn't care how the other girls looked at me walking next to him.
But more than that, the time I spent with him was precious.

He wasn't the type to show off that he was popular at school.
He was equal with everyone and always natural. But the unguarded, carefree smile he showed only to me tightened my heart.
It was different from falling in love with a character in a book; it was an irresistible, real-life gravitational pull.

✅ Our Story

Time passes in the blink of an eye.
The day of his graduation was already fast approaching.
Every time the cherry blossom buds began to swell and the wind announcing the arrival of spring blew, my heart filled with loneliness.
Would this magical time end with his graduation?

The day of the graduation ceremony.
After the ceremony in the gymnasium, the school building was filled with the voices of graduates and current students lamenting their parting.
I headed to the usual library, as if to avoid the crowd.
Perhaps today would end without me even being able to say a single "congratulations" to him.
Thinking that, I felt like I was going to cry.

As I was blankly watching the hustle and bustle outside the window in the quiet library, the door opened vigorously.
Standing there, out of breath, was Kaito-kun in his uniform, missing his second button.

"I knew you'd be here."

He walked straight toward me and stopped right in front of me.
There was no one else around.
All I could hear was our own heartbeats.
He scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed, then leaned his face toward my ear and whispered.

"Hey, let's go out..."

I couldn't even make a sound, and just nodded silently.
It felt like a dream.
No, it was a reality far more wonderful than any story I had ever read.
A love like a story in a book had come to me, too.

However, I suddenly wonder.
Did he really like me?
Or did he just like the books I was reading?

Was it really a coincidence that his name was always at the top of the library card?
Perhaps I wasn't the one chasing his story.
Maybe he had been trying to quietly turn the page of my story for a long time.

The truth is still hidden inside the book.

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