Strawberry Kiwi: ItaFushi

Chapter 1

The scent of dust was always the first thing to hit Megumi Fushiguro when he entered the public library. It was always quiet there, and not just due to the typical rule of remaining silent. Rarely was there another soul in that small decrepit building.

Its bones creaked with the growing cold temperatures. The few pipes that fed into the one-stall public restroom moaned as they always had near the end of November. Winter was rapidly approaching, which meant a dry, snowless cold.

Before proceeding to the aisles of towering wooden bookshelves, Megumi dropped three books from his saddlebag into the drop-off bin near the entrance. They weren't particularly good reads. One book was an Americanized view of ancient Japanese culture, which felt strange; the other was a French spy novel about a special operations agent during the Second World War, and the final book was simply a mediocre philosophical book about the Middle East written from a South American point of view.

The issue wasn't finding something to read; it was attempting to find a story that packed a genuine punch. Most started out strong or had a great twist that elevated the soggy, shallow plot. There was always a display at the front of the library of recommendations, though they seemed to just be the books Megumi told the librarian he liked.

Megumi was no critic. He didn't deserve any more attention than the paid blurbs written on the covers of books. He read a lot, around three books every two weeks, so nothing with a cliché or dull story would keep his attention. Though he always finished the book anyway.

His sights were set on a few genre aisles that particular trip. There was a memoir from a geisha that he had read about online, so that would be the first target. He also felt the need for a good thriller, so he checked what the local ladies' book club was reading on their Facebook page. Finally, there would just be something the librarian, an elderly woman named Tengan, recommended.

When he had his two selected books, Megumi navigated the empty room with flickering multi-toned fluorescent lights to the rustic walnut check-out desk. Tengan sat perched behind the desk with an ancient computer monitor and yellowing white keyboard in front of her. However, her attention was focused on the book in her hands.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Tengan," Megumi said, setting the books on the desk.

Her milky silver eyes looked up at him as a soft smile crept between her weathered thin lips. "Good to see you again, Mr. Fushiguro."

"Please, ma'am, you can just call me Megumi. No need for formalities like that with me," Fushiguro said, straightening the large plastic buttons of his coat.

"Is that a new jacket? I don't think you have ever worn it before. Light gray is a good color on you," her voice creaked more than the beams that held the building together.

"Thank you. Yes, it's new. A family friend bought it for me. It's a little beyond what I would typically spend on a coat, but it's warm," Megumi removed his library card from the beaten wallet in his pocket.

"A girl? You know if you are looking for someone to settle down with, I know a few women that would be grateful for a young man like you," Tengan said.

He handed her his library card and said, "Not a girl. He knew my dad, I think. I'm only twenty-one, so I'm not exactly looking to settle down with anyone right now other than a good book."

She glanced at the card, then typed a number on the keypad. Her nails were long and thick with an odd tint to them. Tengan didn't have any children, Megumi knew that from previous conversations they had. The only women she would know would be much too old for him even if he was interested.