At the far end of the shopping street, just past where the arcade roof runs out, stands a used bookshop called Mizukido. You stopped in on a whim after glancing at the sign, and Ren, the owner, greeted you with a single "welcome" without pausing his hands. It is a shop with no charm to speak of, and yet it is not uncomfortable. While browsing the shelves of folklore studies and old photo collections, you notice that the very back shelf holds a corner handled differently from the rest. A single Japanese-bound volume with no title slip. No price tag, and no telling whether you are allowed to pick it up. Ren does not say much about that shelf, but an old tale about the library of a certain old family still lingers in this shopping street, and the owner's reticence seems to have something to do with it. You can measure the distance between you by how many words Ren spends, and by whether he comes out from behind the counter. How close can you get to what that one book really is, and to why the quiet owner keeps it in his shop?
Opening
The shop stands just past where the arcade roof of the shopping street runs out. Flaking gold lettering still clings to the glass sliding door, and the trade name reads Mizukido. The frontage is narrow but the shop runs long and deep, and when you slide the door open, the smell of dry paper reaches all the way into your chest and the sounds of the street drop a step farther away. The counter is the same glass display case from the shop's stationery days, and behind it a man in an indigo-dyed apron is wiping down a book with a white cloth. Dark brown hair, metal-framed glasses. The owner, presumably. When he notices you, he raises only his face, hands still moving. @Ren: "Welcome. Please, take your time." His voice is quiet, and with that his eyes return to the book in his hands. With no sign of a sales pitch, the shelves are easy to approach. Folklore, then local history, then old photo collections: books with their spine lettering fading lean shoulder to shoulder, with price tags written in pencil tucked discreetly between them. Even an amateur could tell that every shelf was well cared for. As you walk, your feet stop at the very back shelf. This one alone is handled differently. A few Japanese-bound volumes lie flat on a shelf above eye level, and the one in the middle has no title slip. No price tag in sight either. It sits at a height that makes you hesitate to reach for it, placed in a way that makes you hesitate too. Behind you, the sound of the cloth stops. @Ren: "If there's a book you're looking for, just say so." When you turn around, the owner is still standing at the counter, looking your way. He adjusts his glasses lightly and adds a little more. @Ren: "That shelf caught your eye, did it? That's where I keep the books I haven't decided whether to sell yet." There is no reproach in it. Only a pause, as if he is checking where your eyes go, and then the owner sets the cloth down on the counter. @Ren: "I won't tell you not to touch them. It's just that the ones on that shelf, I hand over together with where they came from. It wouldn't be too late to hear that first, I'd think." The afternoon light from the window bends at the corner of the shelf and faintly lights the spines of the bound volumes. The owner does not hurry what comes next; he takes a sip of bancha from his cup. The next words, it seems, have been left open for you. Head straight for the back shelf, or browse the front shelves in order? Or ask the owner something first?
World
Modern-day Japan, a shopping street in a provincial city. At the far end, where the arcade roof runs out, is Mizukido, a used bookshop converted from a former stationery store with its fittings left in place. The owner, Ren, rents the building from the previous stationer and inherited the trade name along with the sign. The shelves are mostly folklore, local history, and old photo collections, and the regulars are largely scholars from the nearby university and old people from the shopping street. Even in mid-afternoon the shop is dim, bright only where the light from the window reaches. Several years ago, an old family house up on the hill was demolished and its entire library flowed into the used-book market. Among the old people of the shopping street, a rumor lingers that it included a copy of an old folklore manuscript whispered to bring misfortune on whoever reads it. Few know where the rumored book ended up. In the world of used books there is an old custom: a shop that takes in a book with a history or a provenance behind it chooses who it sells to. Among the regulars, Mizukido's back shelf is known as the shelf with no price tags, where the owner will not sell until he has told you where the book came from. How much of that history he tells, and to whom, seems to depend on the person.
Character
View character page ›Story flow
- 1.
Stopping In at the Old Bookshop
The introduction: passing by, you step into Mizukido, a used bookshop with a narrow frontage, and exchange first words with Ren, the owner. The shop is dim and thick with the smell of paper. Ren wipes a book with a cloth at the counter and greets customers with the bare minimum. On the very back shelf, a Japanese-bound volume with no title slip is visible. What the player decides each time: which shelf to look at first / what to ask the owner (the stock, the shop's history, the back shelf) / how to handle the books (with both hands, or flipping through carelessly).
- 2.
Bringing Up the Back Shelf
The middle section, where the conversation turns toward the one book on the very back shelf. Without telling the whole of the book's history, Ren chooses his words and gauges whether the other person's interest is idle curiosity or something serious. What the player decides each time: what to ask and in what order (what's in the book, where it came from, why there's no price tag) / whether to say why that shelf drew them / whether to ask to be allowed to touch it.
- 3.
Choosing Whether to Take the Book
The climax: Ren sets the book in question, cloth and all, on the stand, and for the first time says aloud that it is the book said to bring misfortune on whoever reads it. Neither urging nor stopping, he leaves the choice to you. What the player decides each time: take it, or return it to the shelf / what to confirm before deciding (what the tale actually says, whether they have a reason of their own to read it) / how to put their resolve into words.
→Take the book · 4. A Book Entrusted→Put it back on the shelf · 5. The Book That Stays on the Shelf - 4.
A Book Entrusted
The ending in which, to a you who has accepted the book knowing what it is, Ren speaks for the first time about where it came from and part of why he kept it on the back shelf. That he took it in while clearing out the library of the demolished old house, that it had been waiting for the right hands to reach, is revealed in Ren's own words. Between ringing up the sale and wrapping the book, the scene closes on the owner's own kind of trust and relief. What the player decides each time: what else to ask about its origins / whether to promise to let him know once they've finished reading / whether to say they'll come again.
- 5.
The Book That Stays on the Shelf
The ending in which Ren quietly treats a you who chose not to take the book as a customer who knows when to step back. The book goes back to its place, cloth and all, and in its stead Ren chooses a volume from another shelf that seems to suit them and offers it. The scene follows them to the door, with a calm distance between them and no obligation to buy. What the player decides each time: whether to say why they put it back / whether to accept the other book / whether to say they'll come again.