Library (Photojournalist bonus saga Part 4)

The library was a few floors down from the cafeteria. The room was wide and musty, but that didn’t stop a contingent of intellectuals from spending all day here reading anything and everything they could get their eyes on. Some of these salvaged books dated back long before the pill, and a few were brought back to life thanks to hidden parts of the internet and a printing press.

Ko and I walked in and made sure to be as quiet as possible so we didn’t disturb anyone.

The librarian was at the front desk, organizing a few books with coloured tags on their spins. He was a relaxed old guy who had a lot of time on his hands, so he spent most of it getting a book into ours.

“Honji-sensei,” I called quietly to him.

“Kitsune, Ko-Imouto. How do you both do?” He pointed to a book he was holding with a guy wielding a sword. It had a ridiculously long title that pretty much spelled out the premise of the story. “We’ve just unearthed a bunch of old light novels from a hidden web archive about bees. No idea why they were there...”

Fun books like those got passed around pretty frequently. I never personally saw the appeal, since Ekko and I preferred the classics. If I could have read half as fast as Ko, maybe I’d check a few out, but my reading time was limited as it was.

“We’re doing fine,” I told him. “I hope you wouldn’t mind, but Ko here was curious to do an interview with you. It would be about how you got to the sanctuary and what you do for it.”

He stroked his chin a few times, but smiled with a jolley coo.

“Don’t know how much I can tell you about my past, but I’d be happy to explain what I do as a Librarian.”

“What do you mean by that?” Ko asked.

Apparently, he didn’t remember his story all too well. The only thing he knew about was that he was sold off to someone and eventually ended up here.

“You were sold off as a slave?” I asked.

“Yes. I believe at some point I must have been captured for rebelling against the government, but I don't remember much of those times at all.”

“Is it possible that the government wiped your memory before selling you off?” I asked.

A lot of former slaves tend to be a bit spacy when they arrive, possibly due to being doped up for long periods of time. But most of them after some time remember they're experiences, at least from what I've seen.

“It could just be my old age getting to me,” he laughed. “Those memories are probably long gone by now,” he claimed. “No way I'll get them back. Sorry to waste your time.”

Even though he'd given up, I could see in Ko's eyes that she was willing to dig a bit deeper into his head. “I believe that it isn't possible to erase a mind,” Ko revealed. “No matter how much a memory seems to be lost or edited, I believe all our memories are locked away somewhere, waiting to be jogged by a stimulant.”

“More wishful thinking?” I commented.

“Maybe. Perhaps it's one of my weaker points to think like that, but an outside stimulation from an item or photograph can unearth memories we'd long forgotten.”

She pulled out the photo of John and Nora’s wedding.

“This picture wasn't even of you,” she said to me, “but I bet it reminded you of something very important.”

She was right. It reminded me of when Ekko and I got married.

“That's one of the many powers photography has.” She slid the picture back in her pocket. “But even still, it's very important to document things while they’re fresh on our minds.”

“I agree,” Honji-sensei nodded. “Maybe you’ll be able to jog my memory with some of those photos?” he snickered.

He might have playfully suggested that, but Ko was about to offer up her camera to show some of her shots. I figured it was just an excuse to have someone else other than me look at them.

Before showing the first of many thousand pictures, a creaking noise broke the quiet atmosphere, followed by some very excited squeals… Oddly rhythmic, if I may add.

“Someone's sure having fun here,” I commented.

“Oh dear…” the librarian left the front desk and walked around a bookshelf. “She’s at it again.”

We followed him to a small round table with a little girl who was drawing in a book. Her body was rocking from side to side as she drew over the pages, creating a lot of noise for those around her.

Honji-sensei put his hands on her shoulder to calm her excited jitters down. She stiffened at his touch. Once she was calm, he kneeled down next to her.

“Tsukiko, haven’t I told you to stop writing in that book?” he said.

She looked up at him with sad eyes.

“The moon princess needs to get back home so she can get married,” Tsukiko said, pointing to a stick figure drawing. “Her sister was really mean though, so I’m getting rid of her.”

Based on my interpretation of those scribbles she was making, she must have been drawing over any of the parts with that princess’s sister.

Honji-sensei took the book from her and she had the most downtrodden look on her face.

“Tsukiko, you’re not allowed to write in these books,” Honji-sensei scolded with a mild mannered tone.

“I was just trying to help.” Tears started flowing down her cheeks while she wore a broken hearted expression.

“But…” Honji-sensei’s will was breaking very quickly the longer he watched the child fall into despair. “Tsukiko, you’re ruining the book for everyone else who might want to read it.”

“I’m helping get rid of the bad guys, just like them.”

She pointed to us. I'd never met this girl, but she knew we were Guardians. We weren't even in uniform.

Normally, children had active imaginations, but one look at Tsukiko told me that this was more than that. Her tears were that of a person who’d failed her mission, unable to secure safe passage for some mythical lunar princess to achieve matrimony. She believed it was all real.

Eventually, Honji-sensei broke and handed the book back to her. She stopped crying and continued happily drawing in it.

“This’ll be yours, then,” Honji-sensei told her with a sigh, but smiled warmly all the while. “Protect that princess, okay?”

“Okay.” she nodded, excitedly rocking back and forth again in her squeaky seat.

“Just try to be a little more quiet, or else the mission might fail.”

Tsukiko looked up at him in shock.

“No, I won't let it fail.” Suddenly, she was making a lot less noise, as if he'd flipped a switch in her.

*Click!* Ko snapped a photo of them. The picture she took made it look like a grandfather was reading with his granddaughter.