Page 11 of The Vanishing Cherry Blossom Bookshop

THE NEXT CUSTOMER

The coffee brewed, its billows of steam swaying to the triplet-infused rhythm in three-four time.

As though guided by the beat of the music, the girl spun around floatily with The Little Prince clutched in her hands and turned away from the cat sitting on the table.

‘Hey, Kobako?—’

Now standing in front of the bookcase, the girl began to speak as she slid the book back into its original spot. She handled it with the utmost care, apparently determined to keep its corners unscathed.

‘You know, every time I read this book, I always wonder – did I tame you, or did you tame me?’

The cat, sitting in a loaf pose, didn’t bother to respond, not even offering a yawn.

‘Not that it matters.’

Having replaced the book, the girl pointed her index finger towards the spines of the books, again taking care not to touch them. But just as she was about to run her finger across, the cat gave a cry. This time, it was a long, protesting meow.

‘What?’

Putting one hand on her hip, the girl twisted around. Then, stepping closer to the table, she leaned forward, bringing her face near the cat. In response, the cat raised its nose.

‘Huh? You want me to move the table first?’

The cat gave a short, approving meow as if to say: Exactly .

‘Are you saying that we need to make space in the middle of the shop? That’s going to take some effort, you know.’

Letting out a half-sigh, the girl set to work on the task that the cat had assigned her. As she shuffled the chairs aside and moved the tables, the cherry-blossom branches decorating the shop swayed in their vases.

Soon, an empty space the size of a small stage emerged in front of the kitchen counter. Petals were scattered across the now spacious floor.

‘Must be nice to be you,’ the girl grumbled as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. ‘All you ever do is give out instructions.’

By now, the cat had tucked its head back into its body, forming a perfectly shaped loaf. Its eyes were firmly closed.

‘I guess I’m the one who’s been tamed.’

The girl made this remark, which was neither a complaint nor self-mockery, before finally going back to her book-picking ritual.

Her finger hovered just in front of the bookshelf where The Little Prince sat.

She moved her finger across, gliding from top to bottom, transitioning from one shelf to the next.

From time to time, a book would catch her attention, and she would pause momentarily, casting a hopeful glance at her companion.

But Kobako the calico cat wasn’t so easily satisfied.

The ritual eventually progressed to the large-format books held between bookends on the four-seater table. Just when the girl’s fingertip was about to move past a certain book, the cat gave a sharp meow. Though the book was large in dimension, it wasn’t particularly thick.

The girl turned around to find the cat sitting up, its gleaming eyes wide open. A satisfied grin rose to the girl’s lips.

‘Right. Is this is going to be our next read, then? I like this one, too.’

Pulling the book off the shelf, the girl held it out with both her hands, then drew it towards her face. The cover read Ten Nights of Dreams . It was also marked with the words ‘Large Print’. Switching the book to one hand, the girl let out her usual ahem before opening it in a reverent manner.

‘“The sun will rise, and the sun will set. It will rise again, and it will set again. As the red sun moves from east to west, then slips away from west to east – will you have the patience to wait for me?”’

All around the shop, the cherry-blossom branches dangled from the vases, their delicate limbs swaying softly as they listened to the girl’s voice.

Every so often, the petals left the branches, one by one, spiralling through the air as they slowly descended to the floor.

Out of nowhere, a flickering shadow filled the seat at the rear of the room.

It was almost as though the shadow was indecisive about fully appearing.

Nevertheless, it did seem to be enjoying the girl’s reading, as it alternated between expanding its body and narrowing it again, keeping time with the rhythm of her voice.

The calico cat kept its eyes shut. Boléro played on.