I Was Kidnapped by a Book and Ended Up Saving the World - Chapter 14

Dazai Osamu’s eyes curved slightly in a smile, but the moment that unsettling expression appeared, Mitsutani Hikaru instinctively took a step back.

“You seem to care quite a lot about Oda, Mitsutani,” Dazai’s voice at that moment was as light and drifting as a cloud on the horizon.

Though he didn’t understand why, Mitsutani could sharply sense that the atmosphere had turned dangerous. Choosing his words carefully, he replied, “It’s just… rare to see a man take in so many children.”

Dazai’s expression grew even harder to read. He swallowed down words he had nearly spoken, then brushed past Mitsutani with a gloom clinging to him. For a fleeting moment, Hikaru caught the damp, heavy scent of water on him.

He stopped beside Oda Sakunosuke, his voice listless as he said, “Odasaku, we’ll miss the supermarket sale at this rate.”

Odasaku checked the time. Both his hands were filled with bags of desserts. He lifted his head toward Hikaru and raised one hand slightly, as if offering to return half of the bags.

Hikaru waved him off. “No need. You keep them.”

Since he had already given them away, there was no point in taking them back. Besides, the food wasn’t worth much. He had only bought extra for the rare chance to use the Boss’s money—it wasn’t as though he could eat that much on his own.

He watched the two of them walk off. Just as he was about to leave as well, Dazai suddenly turned back. From beneath his bangs, that single exposed eye pinned him coldly in place, making his skin prickle.

Hikaru glanced at his now-empty hands. Dazai’s moods had shifted far too wildly today; he couldn’t make sense of what had just happened.

After lingering a while in thought, he headed back toward the Mafia headquarters. Gojo Satoru had come and gone swiftly, so carelessly that he hadn’t even bothered to meet with Mori Ōgai, but Hikaru still needed to give a simple report.

Book, the people around the protagonist won’t suddenly be affected, right? he asked silently as he walked.

If my power leaks, it will spread outward from you as the center. Please rest assured, the Book replied in its usual prim, precise manner.

Hikaru’s mouth twitched. That was anything but reassuring. Didn’t that mean if something went wrong, he’d be the first to be dragged into the mess?

Still, he knew Dazai’s moods were entirely his own, untouched by the Book.

Dazai’s attitude had shifted the moment he’d seen Hikaru and Odasaku standing together. Could it be that he disliked friends having other people close to them?

A pair of amber eyes suddenly rose in Hikaru’s mind. He shook the thought off quickly.

With Gojo gone, only routine reporting remained. It required little effort, so Hikaru shifted his attention to another vision—one belonging to someone else.

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The dense forest thinned, distant light spilling through the trees. The tall, black-haired man halted on a stone path. In the falling snow, he slowly turned, expression devoid of shifting emotions, his face calm with deathlike stillness. “The town lies just ahead.”

The boy known as Yuki (Snow) looked up at him. This man who called himself Kasaba Gokuko carried himself with an innate solemnity, as though such gravity flowed naturally through his features. Paired with his priest’s robes, it gave him an odd sense of majesty.

Below stretched clear signs of human settlement, but clearly not a place Yuki could enter so easily. After all, as someone who had only just been born into this false existence, he had nowhere to go.

And he had no idea what part of Japan this was. The only way to gain answers was standing right in front of him.

The white-haired boy shifted his gaze toward the man, who remained as immovable as a statue in the snow.

“Ghost-san, what place is down there?” Yuki asked, having decided to take the chance now that Suguru Geto showed no hostility.

“…Tokyo.” After a moment’s silence, Geto answered. His violet eyes lingered on the frail boy.

His movements were slight, but his gaze carried a weight almost tangible, setting every nerve in Yuki’s body on edge.

“And you—what are you?”

The man’s voice was like a spring running cold through the night, clear but chilling.

Yuki was silent for a moment. Then, deciding this distant place was safe to act freely, he replied bluntly, “I’m an orphan. And you, Kasaba-san, what are you?”

Those rose-pink eyes met the man’s. Geto hadn’t expected such an answer. He gave a low laugh before saying, “A sorcerer who’s been dead for many years.”

His speech was oddly stiff, as though his tongue had grown unused to words. Though fluency returned quickly, the boy’s sharp ear caught the awkwardness.

So it’s been that long since he spoke to anyone? Yuki wondered. If he could move freely and looked perfectly human, why would his words have grown so strained?

He set the question aside for now. There was something more pressing.

If he wanted to get close to Gojo, the best way was to enter the sorcerers’ school. Only then could he eventually reach that fated “photo opportunity.”

“Do you know where the sorcerers’ school is?” Yuki asked, voicing a secret hardly hidden among jujutsu users.

The man’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flashing across his features. “You’re a sorcerer?”

For a moment, his violet gaze blazed, heat and pain mingled within it.

Yuki nodded. “I should be.”

He spun a story on the spot: “My foster father told me I was one. Said I had the ability to fend for myself, so he sent me away.”

Borrowing from Oda Sakunosuke’s example, he added, “There were just too many children at home. By leaving, I could lighten the burden.”

Geto’s brow furrowed. In his current state, he couldn’t sense cursed energy, so he couldn’t tell whether the boy was lying.

But from the tale alone—an adoptive father with countless children, abandoning one in the snowy mountains with only a sliver of hope—it reeked of cruel deceit.

A child left to freeze in the snow, abandoned with false promises… even he felt the malice in that.

Yet the boy’s eyes still shone, bright and unclouded. His rare pink irises, pale hair, and frail body made him look almost like someone stricken with a congenital illness.

And yet this was the one person in all the world who could see him, who had spoken to him after a month of ghostlike wandering.

“I’ll take you.” Geto lowered his gaze, long lashes veiling the turmoil in his violet eyes.

Then he stepped closer, narrowing the distance between them, his towering presence casting shadow over the boy. With a faint, almost gentle smile, he said, “But I have one condition.”

“All I ask… is that when the time comes, you carry a message to my family.”

Yuki narrowed his eyes, smiling back as he nodded. Of course he knew the man had his own agenda. But that was fine. It was only when both sides had something to gain that a relationship could endure.

So together, one boy and one ghost stepped down the snow-dusted stone steps, toward the noise and bustle of the city.