A Silent Patron

The peace of mind that comes with the lullaby that ink makes when it touches paper, the sound that lips make when they touch causing whispering voices to linger, the symphony that is made when pages of a book are moved, they were all soothing to anyone who would close their eyes to listen. There truly is no better environment for one to sleep in, and I have proven that countless times before.

I had found this place during our vacant period. I was excited as a new student to explore the academy. Reading the school guide was boring so I decided to gather some first-hand experience instead. The walls were simple yet grand, the corridors were long as the rooms were vast.

Before I realized it, I found myself standing inside of a library. In front of a bookshelf, I gazed at volumes of literature I’d never be interested in reading. I walked around and the number of people in the entire building could easily be counted with my fingers. As expected, they all looked like nerds. I felt out of place really quickly. But I didn’t leave, in fact, I kept coming back again and again. Although I’ve never actually read anything yet.

When I came to the library a week ago, the student librarian seemed to have been glaring since I looked like I was only there to loiter. He wasn’t wrong though. It wasn’t my primary intention but seeing as how cold and comfortable it felt, how could you not want to sleep?

There was a rowdy student that seemed to be so clumsy that every day he’d drop the things he would be carrying over to the counter. He’d always be such a nuisance to my sleeping!

I also discovered a mysterious spot by the air-conditioning where if you sleep there, it wouldn’t be as cold later, as if someone was intentionally increasing the temperature so I wouldn’t get a cold, and it also magically wakes me up on time to get to my next class!

So, I’ve decided since I’ve been curious about it the entire week, I’d investigate!

Thanks to our teacher dismissing us early I rushed to the library building earlier than usual. Despite not being an avid reader, I really can’t help but to love the lingering scent of books wafting in the comfy chilly air.

I went to my usual spot with my head atop my arms and pretended to sleep. I covered myself with a definitely not suspicious student handbook. I tried to raise my hood, looking for it at the back of my neck. It was a bit colder than usual. I then realized that I had completely forgotten to bring my hoodie with me to school. My gut started to tell me my plan wouldn’t work out too well.

My name is Rachelle. I am an idiot.

Looking at the positive side of things, this misfortunate accident made it so that I’d have a more difficult time to doze off because of the cold. It would have undoubtedly made my investigation a success!

I fell asleep no more than five minutes later.

In front of me was a boy whose face I could not discern reading a book intently while occasionally stealing glances of me. As I rubbed my eyes, I only saw something gold and rectangular, something silver and a blurry word. It must have been a dream. All I could remember was Art.

I woke up to the usual sound of books falling off. For some odd reason, my nap felt more comfortable. I’d fell pity towards the other patrons of the library because of the noise– if there were actually any besides me. I stretched my arms and noticed something falling off my shoulders. It was an unfamiliar jacket.

I left it hanging atop my backpack on the chair and walked towards the library exit when I had noticed the librarian having trouble carrying the books. Feeling guilt from all my sleeping around, I walked over to him.

“Need a hand?” I whispered to him.

“Ah, no.” He hid his face behind the tower of books he was holding. His voice was weak but somehow comforting. It was somewhat familiar. He must have noticed the disappointment in my face. “No thanks. I can handle this.”

He fumbled around with wobbly legs. I took half the books anyways.

“So, where to?”

He straightened his back and gave my clothes a quick glance. My sudden action must have caused him to fluster.

“Can’t help if you’re being stubborn about it. Follow me.”

I accompanied him as he returned each book to their respective shelves.

“Is this library always empty?”

“Only during this time of the day. People are usually at the canteen.” He seemed like a quiet guy, his voice was deep yet smooth and clear despite seeming like whispers.

“How long have you been a librarian?”

“Since I became a second-year.”

“Oh, that makes you an upperclassman of mine!”

“Not too loud.”

“Oh, sorry,” I snickered. “I’m Rachelle! Have any tips for a clumsy freshman?”

As if arriving at an epiphany, he pointed at the wall clock as he took the last book off my hands. “Be mindful of your class schedule.”

I rushed to get my backpack, accidentally getting the jacket as well. As I made a dash out of the library, I faintly saw the librarian sighing with a slightly pleased expression. My trip to the library that day gave me more questions than it answered.

Ah, I should ask that librarian about ‘Art’ when I get back.