I heard the soft, dull sounds of Patchouli's padded footsteps. It seemed that she had an uncanny knack for always finding Marisa and I when we were in her library without permission.
"Marisa, Patchouli's coming, don't you think we should go now…?"
My voice trailed off as I heard Patchouli clear her throat softly behind me.
"It's you two again." The exasperation - mingled with amusement - was clear in her voice. I turned to face her, shamefaced. As I began to formulate an apology, Marisa called out a greeting from above us. "Morning, Patchy! I came to borrow some books, ze." Patchouli slowly looked up and saw Marisa balancing precariously on her broom, Hakkero, while loading her arms with Patchouli's books from a shelf high above.
Perhaps it was to avoid accidentally looking up Marisa's skirt, but for some reason I had been watching Patchouli instead. I saw her reaction. Her eyes widened, then her pupils contracted—a response of fear. That was the first time I had seen her act scared of anything. That was strange, we were just "borrowing" books again, something she had grown used to. So why was she so afraid?
"Please put the books back in place."
The edge in her voice surprised me. I turned back to look at my friend Marisa. She was frozen, her arm reaching for yet another heavy volume. I think she was surprised too. Patchouli had never requested Marisa to return her books—again, she had just grown used to the fact that the "borrowed" tomes were never returned. Just then, I noticed something on the books. A minor detail, one that I had somehow overlooked.
Locks.
There were only two reasons in the world for putting locks on books. One, the book's owner not wanting anyone to read it. However, the Voile Library was shared freely amongst the members of the Scarlet Devil Mansion, rendering that explanation void. The second reason…
Jets of water and flame coiled around the magician above me, prompting an aggrieved shout from my friend. Honestly, for someone who supposedly was in poor health, Patchouli sure liked initiating fights a lot. I looked away and sighed for a moment before an army of dolls materialized before me.
Even as I sent my legions forth I tried to negotiate with the feisty elementalist. "All right, all right, Patchy, we get the idea." Zipping around the library above me on her broom, Marisa voiced her enthusiastic agreement. We could have run out of the library there and then, dispatched that useless door guard, and been on our way. A few days and the entire incident would have been forgotten.
There was just one problem: my idiot friend refused to put the books down.