Do you like books?

Since you opened this book, maybe you’ll say you love them, or at least like them a little.

If you do, that would make me really happy.

Because I love books too.

I’m shy and timid, and whenever I have to talk to someone, I get so nervous that I even start sweating.

But when it comes to books, once I start talking, I just can’t stop.

So, what kind of books do you like?

Do you read manga?

I do too, especially stories with cute girls.

Mysteries, adventures, romances…

Hmm, they’re all so exciting.

Fantasy full of magic like Harry Potter?

That’s amazing.

You must be the type who can completely lose yourself in long stories.

As for me, my favorite books are children’s classics, stories that were written long ago in faraway countries like France and Germany.

You know, the thick books that are often collected under titles like World Classics.

They sound difficult?

Not at all.

Just try picking one up.

They’ll take you into a wonderfully gentle and exciting world.

This is the precious story that those books led me to.

It all began exactly one year ago, at Christmas, when I was still in the fourth grade and had to move because of family circumstances.

That day, I stood in front of the large station building in Shiori Town, carrying two oversized paper bags that were stuffed to the brim.

At first glance, I thought it was such a stylish building.

Blue and purple ornaments hung from the white ceiling above the entrance.

A large Christmas wreath decorated with white holly leaves and pink bells hung above the automatic doors.

Beside it stood a Christmas tree glowing beautifully with yellow, red, green, and countless colorful lights.

Normally, it would have been a scene that filled me with excitement.

But that day, it looked like the entrance to a kingdom of sadness.

The weight of the paper bags hanging from both of my hands made my shoulders ache.

Inside them were my greatest treasures.

They were packed with children’s books from overseas that I had cherished ever since I was little.

Yesterday, my mother and I had suddenly moved here to Shiori Town from the neighboring city.

Our new home was tiny, with only a single room for the two of us.

By the time we had finally finished unpacking, Mother looked completely exhausted.

As I wondered where to put all the books we’d brought from our old house, she said to me,

“This isn’t the detached house we used to live in anymore. From now on, we’ll be living in this small apartment. We only have room for the things we absolutely need. Take all of those books and sell them to a bookstore.”

Even with my coat on, December’s wind was freezing.

It felt cold enough to freeze my heart too.

‘Don’t cry.’

I kept telling myself that.

Then something cold landed on my cheek, and I looked up at the sky.

It had started snowing.

The cold grew stronger and stronger, as though even the town itself was urging me to hurry.

At last, I slowly forced my feet toward the entrance of the station building.

According to the elevator directory, the bookstore occupied the sixth and seventh floors.

The children’s books were on the seventh floor.

I pressed the button and headed up.

When I stepped out of the elevator, I passed through the automatic doors into the bookstore.

The registers were immediately to the left.

To the right was a section surrounded by low bookshelves where mothers with young children were browsing picture books.

After walking past them toward the back, I suddenly stopped.

A display shelf stood before me, featuring books with adorable illustrations of elementary school girls on their covers.

It was a popular series about a group of unique best friends each doing their best to find love.

When I looked up, I saw a small shooting-star-shaped sign that read, “New Releases.”

That series…

I’d been wondering what happened next.

So the new volume is finally out…

Ah!

Then maybe they have a classics section too!

I looked up again, searching among the many shooting-star-shaped signs hanging from the ceiling for the section I wanted.

Hmm?

One sign toward the back on the right caught my attention.

Written on the purple shooting star were the words—

“Room of Classics.”

It was exactly my favorite genre!

I hurried straight beneath the sign.

Then I froze in surprise.

This was a bookstore… wasn’t it?

The sign above the automatic doors I’d entered through definitely said “Stardust Bookstore” against a pale blue background filled with snowflakes.

And there were bookshelves everywhere.

Yet this little space in front of me somehow felt different.

Soft lavender curtains decorated with white stars divided the room into a hexagonal shape like a pencil.

The pointed tip of the pencil-shaped room was made of glass, revealing the snowy sky beyond.

I decided to step through the pale orange door.

In the center of the room stood a hollow hexagonal table with a box of small cards and a set of colored pencils.

A handwritten sign leaning against the box read,

[Feel free to write your thoughts about the books.]

The hexagonal walls surrounding it were lined entirely with bookshelves.

And there they were.

The books I loved so much.

I immediately searched for the works of my favorite author.

Next to the British and French literature sections…

There it was.

German literature.

An entire corner of the shelf had been devoted to the works of Kästner.

Paper decorations of boys having snowball fights, adorable twin girls wearing aprons, and animals holding meetings were displayed all around.

Every one of them was a character from Kästner’s stories.

They were so cute…

Every single one was smiling.

At that moment, something warm ran down my cheek.

These were books I had read over and over again.

The Kästner books inside my paper bags…

I had to sell those too.

I’d told myself I wasn’t allowed to cry.

But the Room of Classics was so warm.

It felt as though the books themselves were smiling gently at me.

I hugged both paper bags tightly to my chest.

‘It’s okay.’

‘I’ll just cry.’

‘No one else is here right now.’

Just as I thought that—

“What’s wrong?”

A voice drifted down from above.

Gentle, like the soft snow falling on Christmas.

I looked up through my tear-filled eyes.

Standing there was a young man wearing a brown apron, looking at me.

His black hair was smooth, and his gentle, narrow eyes curved kindly when he smiled.

“Did you get separated from your mother?”

I hurriedly shook my head.

“Um… no.”

His smile softened into a slightly more serious expression.

“Then did something sad happen?”

I felt tears welling up again.

I’d once read in a book that tears loved kindness.

If someone said something like that to me…

There was no way I could hold them back anymore.

“…We moved to this town yesterday. Our new home doesn’t have room for my books, so my mother told me to sell them.”

Once the words I’d been holding inside poured out, they just wouldn’t stop.

“I don’t want to sell them…

They’re precious to me.

But if I don’t, Mother will get angry.”

After that, all that came out were hiccups, and I couldn’t get my words out anymore.

Even so…

I wanted this person to listen.

I don’t know how much time passed.

By the time my hiccups and tears had finally calmed down, I started worrying.

Maybe I’d annoyed him.

Maybe I’d only caused trouble.

Thinking that, I timidly looked up.

The young man was smiling gently.

Then he said something that completely surprised me.

“Then how about leaving your precious books here with me for a while?”

I didn’t understand what he meant, so I forgot to answer.

He bent down slightly toward me and whispered once more.

“Would you lend them to me?

It’s been a long time since I felt like reading books like these.”

He smiled again, his eyes narrowing warmly.

Then he took out some bills from his apron pocket.

“This is the rental fee.

Just tell your mother you sold the books and give her this.”

Startled, I hurriedly tried to hand the money back.

“I-I can’t accept this.”

It didn’t feel right to let a complete stranger do something like this for me.

I looked up at him.

“Then how about this?

Would you lend them to me as a favor between friends?”

“Friends…?”

“I used to love books like these too.

So somehow…

I feel like we’re already friends.”

“Thank you… very much.”

The reason I nodded…

Maybe it was because I wanted to become friends with the person standing in front of me.

I was so happy that I smiled.

The dried tears on my cheeks felt so stiff they seemed like they might crack.

Ah.

I suddenly realized something important.

“My name is Motono Yumemi.

I’m ten years old.”

The words came out before I even thought about them.

“…If we’re going to be friends, I should tell you my name.”

I added quietly.

The man laughed softly.

“How polite.

I’m Hoshizaki Ikuya, the owner of Stardust Bookstore.”

“Hoshizaki-san…

Um…”

I hesitated.

But I gathered up my courage and asked,

“May I come here again?”

Still smiling, Hoshizaki-san nodded.

“If you’ve moved nearby, then come by anytime.”

I answered, “Yes,” and handed him the two large paper bags.

His warm hand brushed against mine for just a moment.

For some reason, my heart gave a single loud thump.

Startled, I didn’t know what to do.

I hurriedly bowed my head and rushed out of the Room of Classics.

There, inside Stardust Bookstore, all those beautiful and fascinating books seemed to sparkle as though they were inviting me to come closer.

That was where my story began.

A precious memory from exactly one year ago.