3
Ultimately, Sakuta’s forlorn hopes were dashed, and Uzuki was still tuned to that wavelength the next day.
He woke at six, got ready, and headed in to a first-period class. Uzuki was smoothly blending in with the girls from their major.
They were all dressed alike, chattering about the same topics, laughing in sync.
And that still felt wrong to him.
Late last night, after the dance lesson, Nodoka had called him and said they’d all had a good talk.
Their time together as Sweet Bullet mattered.
And so did the work they did on their own.
Giving their all on every job currently on their collective plates was the only real way to spread word about their group.
And by talking things out, they were more tight-knit than ever. Nodoka sounded upbeat and cheerful the whole time. They’d always had trouble getting on the same page with Uzuki; her priorities just never quite aligned with the others. But now Uzuki got it.
Whatever this mess was, it had had only upsides.
Seeing Uzuki cheerily laughing with her friends was kind of a relief. A few days back, she’d been clearly out of place, and that had felt risky, or at least uncomfortable. None of that remained. They were even-keeled and steady.
Unfortunately, seeing Uzuki just…fit in was itself a source of discomfort.
No one but Sakuta seemed bothered by this change. Most likely, they weren’t interested enough to notice. Everyone had their comfort zone staked out and didn’t care what happened around them as long as that remained undisturbed. Maybe if he acted like he didn’t care, one day he’d actually stop caring.
If it were anyone but Uzuki, Sakuta himself probably wouldn’t have noticed or cared.
“Hey, Fukuyama,” he said. Takumi was sitting next to him.
“Mm?”
He’d made a very sleepy noise. Takumi’s eyes were only half-open.
“What do you make of Hirokawa today?”
“She’s cute.”
“Anything else?”
“She’s cute.”
“I thought so.”
“Man, Azusagawa…” He must have woken up a bit, because his eyes were focused now.
“Mm?” This time it was Sakuta who sounded sleepy.
“Was there a correct answer to that question?”
It had been the second day in a row, so he was right to wonder.
“Cute is fine,” Sakuta said, stifling a yawn.
“You sure about that?”
It wasn’t like Sakuta had an answer in mind.
When he said nothing else, Takumi’s frown deepened.
After surviving first- and second-period classes, Sakuta headed to the cafeteria. He’d woken up at six and made a lunch, but Mai was on campus today, and they’d agreed to eat together.
The cafeteria was already 80 percent full.
He looked around the crowd and found Mai. She’d nabbed a window seat and was waving him over.
Sakuta threaded his way through the tray-bearing students to her table—and realized someone else was sitting across from Mai.
She had her back to Sakuta, but he recognized her anyway. For the simple reason that this was Miori Mitou, his newly anointed potential friend.
As he neared the table, she called out, “Oh, Azusagawa! What’s up?”
Sakuta glanced at each of them, then sat down next to Mai.
“We were in second-period English together,” Mai said before he could ask.
“When Mai sat down next to me, my heart nearly leaped out of my chest.”
Miori put her hands over her heart, like it was trying to escape again.
“You’re so dramatic, Miori,” Mai scoffed.
“No, no, you shouldn’t underestimate the effect you have on people, Mai. Right, Azusagawa?”
The rejoinder felt natural, and so did her toss to him. Mai’s eyes turned toward him, too.
Sakuta glanced at each again, then voiced his honest opinion. “You sure made friends fast.”
They’d both ordered the cafeteria’s exclusive donburi and already polished it off. Not a kernel of rice left. And given the table location, their second-period class must have wrapped up early. They’d likely talked quite a bit before he got here.
“Are you jealous?” Miori asked.
“Mai’s not great at making friends, so consider me surprised.”
He took his lunch out of his backpack and put it on the table.
“That is not true,” Mai said, feigning anger.
She used this as an excuse to swipe a piece of rolled egg from his lunch.
“They paired us up for conversation practice, so we were talking the whole time,” she said, then popped the egg in her mouth. “Mm, that’s good.”
Sakuta had taken English last semester. They allowed no Japanese in class, so your partner was everything. That had been a big part of why Sakuta and Takumi were still talking.
“Then I heard she didn’t own a phone and realized this was the girl you’d mentioned.”
“I bet he told you I was a glutton who wolfed down three chicken nuggets.”
“I swear I didn’t.”
“Well, it helped me get closer to Mai, so you’re forgiven.”
Miori wasn’t paying him any heed.
But either way, that meant Mai and Miori were weirdly chummy. Mai was definitely not someone who jumped straight to a first-name basis often. She’d been quite distant with Sakuta for quite a while.
“When Miori introduced herself, she said to use her first name. I was a little reluctant, but…when you’re speaking English, that’s how it’s done.”
“Why’d you insist?” Sakuta asked.
“I just wanted to hear my name on Mai’s lips,” Miori replied, not missing a beat.
“I hear that,” Sakuta said, digging into his lunch.
Mai got up without a word and came back with tea. She set it down next to his lunch.
“Thanks, Mai.”
Her lips curled slightly. A gentle smile.
“……”
Miori was blinking at them.
“What now, Miori?”
“…You really are a couple.”
She blinked again, like she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Everyone agrees she’s too good for me.”
Few people were rude enough to say so, but their glares spoke volumes. This wasn’t out of the ordinary. He didn’t think anyone had genuinely said they made a cute couple. Certainly not any friends or acquaintances he’d made at college.
“No, I don’t mean that. Like…the way you act with each other is natural. You’re clearly a good match.”
She sounded a bit formal and a little embarrassed. Like saying that aloud was awkward for her. Complimenting people could be weirdly stressful like that.
“Thanks, Miori,” Mai said, smiling at her.
Miori toppled over in her seat like she’d been shot through the heart.
“Hang in there,” Sakuta said.
“I can’t! I’m in love!”
“Like I said, Mai’s mine, and you can’t have her.”
“Can I borrow her sometimes?”
“I belong to nobody,” Mai said.
Miori straightened up, looking tense.
“Don’t sweat it, Miori. Mai doesn’t get mad that easily.”
“Yes, Sakuta is never not a snot.”
Mai’s chopsticks shot toward his lunch again, swiping a frozen crab cream croquette. Kaede was addicted to the things, and there was always a bunch in the freezer at home.
“Argh, Mai! At least leave me half!”
But his pleas went unheeded, and Mai ate the whole thing.
“…This is weird—like, am I allowed to be here?”
Miori was looking back and forth between them, as if feeling insecure.
“Probably best you leave.”
“Absolutely stay.”
Sakuta and Mai spoke on top of each other.
“I’m gonna go get a refill,” Miori said, splitting the difference. She grabbed Mai’s empty cup, too, not missing a beat.
“She’s a bit like you,” Mai said as she watched her walk away.
“Don’t tell Mitou. She’d probably hate it.”
“But you don’t. I mean, she’s cute.”
Miori came back with more tea.
“Whatcha talking about?” she asked, plopping the plastic cups down on the table.
“How you’re cute.”
“Mai, is that true?”
Miori clearly didn’t believe him. Sakuta had not earned her trust.
“Yes.”
“Well, thank you, then.”
Mai, she believed. Miori settled back down and took a sip of tea to cover her blush.
There was a brief lull in conversation, and Sakuta took the opportunity to finish off the rolled eggs. He put his chopsticks back in their case and closed the lid on his lunch box, then wrapped it up in the cloth.
He took a sip of the tea Mai had brought him.
His eyes wandered around the cafeteria and stopped on a table two spots down. Like theirs, it was a four-seater. Four girls were sitting there, in similar outfits and with similar makeup. Based on the dishes, they’d all ordered the same thing.
“High school was easier,” Miori said out of nowhere.
“Mm?”
He glanced her way, confused, and she was looking at the same table.
“Everyone was in uniform.”
“Oh.”
She’d clearly followed his gaze and guessed what it meant. Figuring that made it okay, he looked again. Upon closer examination, the table behind them held a pair of girls who were also dressed alike.
He glanced around the cafeteria and saw quite a few tables like this. If this were poker, there were any number of flushes, full houses, three or four of a kind, two pairs, or one pair—he couldn’t be bothered to count them all.
“Do they, like, talk it over and decide these things?”
“As if anyone would do something that annoying.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Even Sakuta couldn’t picture anyone texting people every morning to decide the collective look of the day.
But they sure lined up a lot for pure coincidence. It was kinda uncanny, really.
“I struggle with it every morning. Don’t want anyone thinking I’m drab, but don’t want anyone laughing because I’m trying too hard.”
Miori was wearing a dress with a relaxed denim shirt over it. The dress alone would have been trying too hard, so she’d added the shirt to tone it down.
He glanced around and found other girls dressed like her.
“You do it, too, Azusagawa.”
She glanced at a pair of dudes over his shoulder. Navy ankle pants, long-sleeved T-shirts. Exactly like what he had on. Even their backpacks were black.
He got her point without her spelling it out.
“I consulted my wallet, went to a store, and bought what the mannequin had on. This is the result.”
“I’m also wearing a mannequin look,” Miori laughed, plucking her clothes. “And what I wore yesterday came up when I googled ‘fall college outfits.’ If you shop in the same places and look at the same sites, you end up dressing the same.”
“I guess.”
“And if you’re like everyone else, nobody’ll laugh. No reason to dress different here. Back in high school, everyone was hiking their skirts up, loosening their neckties, swapping out their socks, desperate to find some way to stand out.”
Miori winced at the memories.
But that’s just how people are. The moment they’re given freedom to choose, they feel like they’re being put to the test and shrink back. As long as they’re doing what someone else decided, they could shift the blame. But if it’s their choice, there’d be no excuses, no escape routes.
“You don’t have a phone, but you still google things.”
“I’ve got a computer at home.”
That wasn’t really anything to be smug about, but she put her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. Apparently, she wasn’t diametrically opposed to the Internet itself.
“Where do you buy your clothes, Mai?” Miori asked.
Mai had been listening in silence. “Me?”
“You always look cute. I’d love to know.”
“Mai is always cute.”
Today Mai was wearing a collared blouse with a sweater vest over it. And a long skirt below that. Her hair was done up in two loose braids, which were draped over her shoulders. And with her fake glasses, she had that literature-club vibe going.
One false move, and the whole thing would look dowdy, but Mai pulled it off with mature elegance.
“I often buy outfits from fashion shoots direct from the stylist. This outfit is one of those.”
“Can’t copy that!” Miori hung her head. “But even if I could, I’m not you, so it probably wouldn’t work.”
Now she was sulking.
“You’d be surprised.”
“What do you know, Azusagawa? Have you tried?”
“Yes.”
“Creepy…”
“My sister, I mean. She gets a lot of Mai’s hand-me-downs.”
Kaede was surprisingly tall, so she could wear a lot of what Mai did. Sometimes that made her look like she was being dressed up for something, but most of them worked fine.
“Lucky sister. If I were your sister… Ew, I don’t want that, but still…jealous.”
“Talk about mixed messages.”
“What were we talking about anyway?” Miori asked, letting his words go in one ear and out the other.
“You suddenly started waxing nostalgic about high school uniforms.”
“Because you were looking at the other table,” Mai said, glancing at the girls who had prompted this whole thing.
“Oh, right. Azusagawa, what caught your attention?”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning what I said.”
“No real reason.”
He shifted his gaze away evasively, and Miori seemed to buy it for now. Or at least, she didn’t try to dig further.
At this point, the bell rang, warning that break was almost over. The students loitering in the cafeteria started moving out.
“I’ve gotta return a book to the library,” Miori said, getting up first.
“I’ll clear your dishes,” Sakuta said as he reached for her tray.
“Oh, thanks.”
“See you in class next week,” Mai said.
Miori waved and left the room.
He watched her go, then dropped off her tray.
Sakuta and Mai left together and walked over to the main building.
“You have afternoon classes, Sakuta?”
“I’m happy to blow them off and go on a date with you.”
He glanced up through the trees; the skies were blue.
Perfect date weather.
A few days before, it had still felt hot, but now it was properly cool for fall.
“If you’re here till fourth period, we could go home together.”
“Third period’s my last one, but I’ve gotta prep for cram school, so I can wait for you.”
“Oh? But you’ve got work, then.”
“Yeah, shame. I was hoping I’d get to feast on you alongside your dinner tonight.”
“If you talk like that, I’m not coming to cook.”
“Aww.”
“If you see Futaba at work, maybe talk to her about the thing?”
“Mm?”
“That whole tangent was about Hirokawa, right?”
He’d figured Mai knew. And that was why she hadn’t asked. Nodoka must have told her something.
“I’ll run it by her, yeah. She’ll roll her eyes so hard.”
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