Last Chapter – And in the Light of Dawn
After spending May wrestling with Adolescence Syndrome, Sakuta spent June in relative peace.
He’d promised to tell Mai he loved her every day, so he did.
Screaming his love from the center of the schoolyard had certainly changed things.
No one mentioned the hospitalization incident anymore. Now he was an outsider for being either cringey or infamous. Just walking down the hall summoned subdued snickering from all directions. Being at school was possibly more uncomfortable than ever.
But he had Mai back, so he told himself, “Whatever.” It was somewhat necessary for Sakuta to have that attitude to get through it.
“I knew your heart was made of solid steel!” Yuuma said, doubled over with laughter.
“I would have died of shame,” Rio said. “You really are a rascal, Azusagawa.”
“What does that even mean?”
“When those hospitalization rumors started, who was it who insisted, ‘Fighting the air is pointless’?”
“Ohhh, that was Sakuta! I totally heard him say it!”
Sakuta remembered that, too. And he hadn’t changed his mind.
“You can’t get serious about your own problems, but if it’s for a beautiful senpai, no shame is too great. I don’t know a better word for that than rascal.”
He couldn’t really think of a good comeback for that.
“……”
Like Rio said, he’d never once tried to change the air around himself, but when Mai was in trouble, he’d gotten all worked up. Which led to screaming his declaration of love in the center of the yard.
“I can make fun of you for this forever.”
“I’m gonna be hearing about this in my twilight years, too?”
That actually didn’t sound like a bad life…he tried to tell himself.
A few days later, Sakuta stopped by the science lab.
“Futaba.”
“What?”
“Does this mean your hypothesis was correct?”
“No idea. If Adolescence Syndrome is defined by unstable teenage psyches and tricks played on the mind by powerful misconceptions, then scientific proof is of no use whatsoever.”
“I guess not…”
He thought she was on the right track, though.
Mai had been acting like the air, so the student body had treated her like air. Since all those thought processes had been unconscious, the distinction between her and the air had vanished. It changed from metaphor to fact, becoming their reality.
And Sakuta felt sure this was happening in other schools. Anywhere a lot of people gathered would start to develop an air of its own…
In Mai’s case, the silent understanding within the school had spread to the world at large via Adolescence Syndrome. That was all it was.
Like Rio said, there was no point dwelling on it further.
As he was about to leave the science room, Rio called after him, eyes never leaving the experiment she was preparing.
“Well, if our world can be transformed by a single romantic confession, it’s a pretty simple place. You proved that, Azusagawa.”
He’d heard about a lot of things from her, but this sounded like the single greatest truth.
“Maybe,” he said.
At the very least, a single confession had changed his life for the better.
Mai had her life back and was steadily moving forward.
She started by announcing her return to work.
And the scale of that press conference was certainly “Mai Sakurajima” sized. Part of the process had involved meeting her mother and talking things over, but given the way Mai had stopped by Sakuta’s workplace after and taken her stress out on him, they hadn’t exactly made up.
But if they were arguing every time they met, that was certainly one definition of family… Besides, Sakuta was relieved to know Mai’s mother remembered her at all.
And so time passed.
A month later, it was June 27. A Friday.
Kaede woke up Sakuta, and he got ready for school, listening to the morning news on the TV.
“And a big win for the Japan team!”
Japan’s soccer fortunes seemed to be on the rise.
“Good morning. Today is Friday, June twenty-seventh. Our top story today is the results of yesterday’s big game.”
Sakuta wasn’t sure who Japan had played, but the excitement in the newscaster’s voice made it clear this was a pretty big deal.
The highlight reel started with a free kick near the end of the first half. The goalie dived the wrong way, letting the ball score a hit in the net on the far side.
Sakuta watched that, said “I’m outta here” to Kaede, and left the house like always.
He walked to Fujisawa Station. Then a fifteen-minute ride on the Enoden. He got off at Shichirigahama Station, joining a flood of students in matching uniforms as they passed through the school gates.
Nothing of interest happened. But nothing unusual happened, either. He felt grateful for the normalcy.
Sakuta ate lunch with Mai in an empty third-floor classroom. There were no other students around. Just the two of them.
They sat on either side of a desk by the windows, overlooking the ocean.
Mai had made their lunches, which was simply delightful.
This was the result of a conversation they’d had the day before.
“Can you cook, Mai?”
“I can. I’ve been living alone long enough.”
“Oh? Really?”
“What, you don’t believe me?”
“Well, you always buy your lunch.”
“Then I’ll make us lunch tomorrow.”
That was all it took.
She took the lid off the lunch box. Quite the spread. Fried chicken, a sweet rolled omelet usually called tamagoyaki, potato salad, cherry tomatoes, and even a side of hijiki and soybeans.
Conscious of Mai’s watchful eye, Sakuta tried each in turn. They were all good. Not strongly seasoned, but the delicate flavor was truly delicious.
“Now you’ll apologize for your rudeness yesterday and beg my forgiveness,” Mai said triumphantly. Clearly, she’d taken his expressions as a sign of victory.
“Sorry. I was out of line. Cheeky, even! I apologize.”
He bowed his head. It was a small price to pay. Getting to eat Mai’s food was already a total victory in Sakuta’s mind.
“I’m glad you understand.”
And Mai was pleased to have proved her skills. It was truly a win-win.
“Uh, Mai,” he said, looking her right in the eye.
“What?”
“I love you. Please go out with me.”
“……”
Mai looked away. She took some egg from her lunch and ate it.
“……”
She chewed slowly.
“……”
He waited for her to swallow, but she still didn’t answer.
“You’re just going to ignore that?!”
“I’m just not feeling the magic here,” she complained with a weary sigh. “When you say the same thing every day for a month, the novelty wears off.”
“This was your idea!”
“I said to ask me again in a month. You’re the one who decided it had to be every day.”
“Fair.”
“Oh, right. I landed a part in a TV series that’s airing in July.”
“Whoa! You’re just changing the subject?!”
Had this situation ever been treated so dismissively?
Ignoring his protests, Mai pulled a script out of her bag. It was printed on yellow paper and had Episode 6 on the cover.
“It’s a single episode in the middle of the season on a late-night show, but…”
Maybe a tiny part for someone with as many lead roles as Mai. But he could tell from her face she was just happy to be working again. He felt like he’d never seen her so excited about anything.
But that didn’t change the fact that she’d ignored his asking her out.
“Augh, what’s happened to my life?”
He turned and stared at the sea. It was the height of the rainy season, but today was a rare clear day. A perfect day for a walk on the beach.
“What? Are you not happy I’m back at work?”
“I’m delighted!”
“And there’s a kiss scene.”
“…Say that again?”
He felt like she’d just said something alarming.
“There’s a kiss scene.”
“Please turn down this job.”
“Oh, whatever. It’s not like it’s my first kiss.”
“……”
Was he imagining this? Or had she just said something he could not ignore?
“Back up, Mai.”
“What?”
“You said you were a virgin.”
“And you said you wouldn’t have held it against me.”
“Yeah, but kissing is another matter entirely.”
“I’m not following your logic. Would you still be upset if you knew the first person I kissed was you?”
“……”
This time he really didn’t know what she meant. At first.
“Huh?” he uttered with belated surprise.
“I gave you my first kiss. How dare you not remember!”
“Uh…but…huh?”
He thought about what she might mean, but…it was no good. He still didn’t get it. But she didn’t seem like she was lying. The only thing he could think of was the blank period where he’d forgotten her.
“Y-you mean…”
“It doesn’t work like in fairy tales. I thought if I kissed you, you might remember me.”
The disappointment on her face was painful to see.
“I promise I’ll remember, so please name the specific place and time.”
“Nope.”
“At least a hint!”
“Not happening.”
“Please!” He put his hands together.
“Should we try again?”
Sakuta had not been prepared for that suggestion. She was looking up at him seductively. She made fun of him a lot, so this could have been a trap… As she wasn’t acting cute or anything, though, it didn’t seem like she could back out of it that way.
“By all means.”
“Then close your eyes.”
“Mm? Now?”
He’d been assuming they would fully re-create the scene of that first kiss, but apparently not.
“You don’t want to?”
“No, I’m in!”
He closed his eyes and waited. His heart was racing. He was definitely nervous.
“Here goes,” Mai said. She sounded a little embarrassed.
He felt her breath on his cheeks, her warmth close by. He knew she was leaning across the desk.
There was a full second delay, and then his lips felt something soft. Her lips were colder than he expected. And they tasted like fish stock. The same flavor as the egg he’d just been eating… Wait, this was egg.
He opened his eyes and found Mai using her chopsticks to press the tamagoyaki against his lips, desperately trying not to laugh.
“You really thought I’d kiss you?”
Her smile was downright evil.
Rather than answer, Sakuta ate the tamagoyaki. His lips closed around the tips of her chopsticks.
“An indirect kiss! Yaaay!” he said, his voice super flat. He figured that would make her more self-conscious.
“……”
Indeed, her eyes locked onto the tip of her chopsticks. She’d only eaten half her lunch. She must have been wondering how to proceed.
“But you’re all grown-up, Mai,” he said, cutting off any hope of escape. “You’d never be concerned about an indirect kiss with a younger guy.”
“R-right…”
She hesitated a moment, but she’d already committed. She grabbed another bite with the chopsticks and brought it to her lips. She proceeded to finish off the rest of her lunch in silence. She was blushing slightly the whole time, which was a sight for sore eyes.
“Just to be clear, it’s not mine,” she said, wrapping the lunch box in a napkin.
“Mm?”
“The kiss. It’s the lead girl.”
Sakuta was both relieved and disgruntled.
“You really had me going there.”
“But you love me anyway, right?”
“I dunno, even my love might start cooling off at this rate…”
“Wh-what?!” she yelped, suddenly flustered.
“I mean, you just don’t seem interested. You’re not feeling the magic? That’s so discouraging.”
“…I didn’t say no.”
She pursed her lips, sulking—and opened the script.
“Is that a yes?”
“Well, um…” She turned red and hid behind the pages.
“Is it?” he asked again.
Her eyes peered over the top of the script.
“…Fine. It’s a yes,” Mai relented.
Sakuta didn’t remember much about the rest of the day. He was too excited about officially dating Mai to think about anything else.
The next morning, he was still riding that high.
As he got ready for school, he turned on the TV, humming to himself. He glanced over at the news.
“And a big win for the Japan team!” the newscaster said, excited.
“……”
Weird. He scowled at the screen. This sounded very familiar.
“Good morning. Today is Friday, June twenty-seventh. Our top story today is the results of yesterday’s big game.”
What did he just say?
June 27?
That was definitely what he said.
The highlights of the soccer game were familiar, too. A free kick near the end of the first half, the ball scoring a hit in the net on the far side of the goal.
He ran back to his room and checked the digital clock he used to wake himself up. It had the date on it.
“What the…?”
The screen said June 27, too.
Sakuta Azusagawa had woken up to yesterday morning.
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