Chapter 21: Seven-colored guy

Reading Settings

Translator: Soafp

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[Random girl PoV]

I love books.

And being a bookstore clerk was always a dream job of mine.

Even if it’s just a part-time job. As long as it was for books, I could endure the customer service I wasn't good at and the heavy lifting.

But still…

What I long for isn’t just the comfort of books; it’s the warmth of people as well.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Good luck with work.”

I know it’s simple, but that single phrase made me feel like working this job was worth it.

And in that moment, my impression of him completely changed.

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Hajime Toumachi.

I know him well.

We're classmates, and when I work at the library’s front desk during lunch break, he's always at a study table.

More importantly… like me, he's often alone.

So, I'll admit, I secretly felt a kind of kinship with him.

That was until yesterday when I saw him with that bright hair, chatting with those loud, flashy girls sitting next to him.

“Ah, he’s not like me anymore…”

That’s what I thought.

But then, yesterday, I ran into him by chance during my shift at the bookstore, with him holding a stack of books.

He spoke to me.

With such a gentle voice.

And with just that, my heart felt so much lighter.

Even after my shift ended, his kind words kept replaying in my mind.

I'm sure it was just a trivial thing to him, but to me, it meant the world.

---

And today, I saw him again.

On Sundays, I always come here. I love being surrounded by books in this place.

“…”

It was an unexpected encounter.

There he was, studying again. Sitting at one of the old wooden desks, running his fingers through his vibrant, rainbow-colored hair, clearly deep in thought.

The scene seemed like a strange mismatch.

But to me, it felt surprisingly fitting.

Maybe it's because I've seen him so often in the library?

Without realizing it, I quietly sat at a seat near him, making sure he wouldn’t notice.

For no particular reason.

There wasn't a reason at all.

---

“…”

After a while, he picked up a book.

It was from an author who recently had one of their works made into a movie. I never watched the movie since I only care about the books.

That whole row of books, I’ve read all of them.

I want to talk to him about it.

I want to talk. I want to talk.

But… I can't.

Why am I just sitting here, not even reading, thinking all this…?

“I should check the old books too…”

“Ah.”

While I was lost in my thoughts, he quietly murmured to himself and stood up from his seat.

Wait… wait a second…!

---

“…”

He switched genres suddenly, moving to the old books section. I’m not sure what he's into, but the book he picked up is one I've never read.

“Ah…”

Peeking over from the shelf, I saw him murmur softly.

Then――with such tenderness, he turned the pages.

Over and over again, carefully, as if not to hurt the book.

Gently, so gently, he kept reading.

It was almost as if he was cherishing every word.

Slowly, he turned the pages—those ancient characters from long ago.

“……”

The sight was supposed to be an odd mismatch, but I found myself strangely captivated.

Once again, I sat near him.

Without any particular reason.

There probably wasn't a reason at all.

---

Time passed.

“……Hmm?”

He seemed to have finished reading the book and stood up, taking a deep breath. Then, he spotted something and hurriedly walked to the other side of the shelf.

W-wait.

“……Aww man.”

Peeking from behind, I saw him pick up a book that had fallen to the ground.

It looked pretty damaged.

Wait, is he… is he going to take that?

---

“Is something wrong?”

“This was on the floor… the spine's messed up. I thought it wouldn't be right to just put it back like this.”

Without worrying about being suspected, he offered the book.

The library staff member was momentarily surprised by his rainbow-colored hair, but he didn't even seem to notice their reaction anymore.

“Hmm, this should be fine. We can fix it up—should be good as new in about a day.”

“Oh, really? That's a relief.”

“Thank you for catching it before it got worse!”

“No problem. Please take care of it.”

He looked visibly relieved, bowed, and left the desk.

…What am I even doing?

The sound of his voice, so full of relief, echoed in my mind.

He truly cares about books.

And yet, here I am…

[Oh, really? That's a relief.]

Those words of reassurance.

He genuinely loves books.

And I—

[Yeah. Thanks.]

Ah.

Now it hits me. Regret swells in my chest.

The reason I sat near him wasn't just “for no reason.”

I wanted him to notice me. I wanted him to talk to me.

I wanted to say things like, “That author's series is particularly good,” or “Old books can be surprisingly edgy, you know?”—those kinds of conversations with Toumachi-kun.

“I want to be his friend…”

I whispered it softly, realizing how much I wanted that.

I want to chat with someone who loves books as much as I do.

Because surely, someone who treats books with such care couldn't be a bad person.

So next time…

Next time, I'll try harder to send stronger signals to Toumachi-kun.

Maybe then he'll talk to me.

For now, that's the most I can do.

Against the rainbow-colored glow of his presence, I remain dim and unnoticed.