Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 10 - Chapter 3.1

Chapter 3 - Social World

1

“A star in Orion, it will likely end in a super—”

Before the question even ended, Uzuki hit the buzzer. The light on her seat turned on.

“Yes, Zukki?” the fortysomething male celebrity running the quiz said.

“Betelgeuse!” she said, extremely confident.

There was a brief pause, then a bell rang—she was right.

“The full question was ‘A star in Orion, it will likely end in a supernova explosion,’” explained the young female announcer working as a program assistant.

“What’s got into you today, Zukki?” the MC asked, overplaying the surprise. His eyes were bugging out.

She’d gotten three answers right in a row. No mistakes. She was famous for blurting out the weirdest things, so the MC’s shock was likely genuine.

“I’ve been in great form these days!”

“But it ain’t good for the show. I’m scared for our ratings!”

“I’m gonna get them all right!” she crowed.

“Please don’t,” he wailed.

All on the TV screen.

 “They laughed at me, too?”

Ten whole days had passed since she’d asked the question.

Now it was Monday, October 17.

He wasn’t sure when this game show had filmed. But since they mentioned her commercial, it was definitely after the expanded cut was released.

The exact date aside, Uzuki’s new attitude was definitely helping her reach the right answer.

“Zukki, you gonna be a real singer now?” the MC asked, joking around.

“I already am!” Uzuki said, playing the crowd and getting a big laugh.

“It’s like I don’t even know you!” This was no longer a performance. He looked genuinely baffled. “But I guess this is working, too, so…let’s roll with it!”

Nodoka was also on the show, forcing a smile. The camera briefly cut to her, and Sakuta caught the tension she was hiding.

He couldn’t be sure exactly how she felt about all this, but undoubtedly thoughts were being had. Thoughts about the changes in Uzuki.

Sakuta was watching this unfold in the staff room at the cram school.

His math classes had wrapped up, and he was writing notes on how Kento Yamada and Juri Yoshiwa were progressing when the principal switched on the TV over the couch in back.

“This Uzuki Hirokawa’s pretty funny,” the principal said.

“Yep.”

The game show was team based, and Uzuki’s side won. The one-hundred-thousand-yen bonus challenge sadly ended in failure, and the show wrapped up.

“See you next week!” the MC yelled, and the twenty-odd panelists all waved.

Letting that play over his ears, Sakuta finished his report.

By the time he looked back at the screen, a new show was starting.

Had Uzuki’s discovery changed everything? Of course not.

Sakuta and the world at large were going about their business. At the very least, the last ten days had passed without incident.

Uzuki herself had been going about life like she always did. When she wasn’t working, she was in class, joining her friends, fitting right in, and laughing with the crowd.

She’d been in Spanish class with him today, and he’d detected no obvious changes in her.

And after what Rio had said, the way the students around them were all dressing the same and acting alike—that seemed far less natural. If this really was a case of Adolescence Syndrome affecting all college students, that was vaguely terrifying.

Sakuta was dressed exactly like the boy sitting in front of him, so perhaps he’d gotten caught up in it without even realizing. Unconsciously absorbing what everyone was doing, what passed for normal. Unwittingly allowing that to taint him.

“You were staring at Uzuki the whole class,” Miori said. “Wandering heart?”

“What did you make of Zukki today?” He figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“She seemed normal enough?” was all he got back.

Sakuta was the one asking a weird question, so he deserved that look.

But he found it hard to believe nothing was different.

Uzuki had figured it out.

She knew what her friends had thought of the old her.

She knew what the world had made of a semi-successful idol.

And that must have changed something inside her. Yet Uzuki was going about her business like everything was the same. Hanging out with the college friends who’d mocked her behind her back, eating lunch together, enjoying the good times.

It was hard for him to read that as a happily-ever-after scenario.

He didn’t think this would work out long-term. If they could keep this up without anyone forcing themselves, then fine, but it was clear that Uzuki’s hard work was the only thing keeping it all above water.

And the more she bottled stuff up, the bigger the explosion to come.

But knowing that alone did not give him any way to stop it. Thus, he’d spent the last ten days stewing.

“I’m outta here,” he said, getting up.

“See you at your next class, Azusagawa-sensei.”

“I’ll be there.”

Sakuta headed for the changing room, shuffling off his uniform coat. He stuck it in his locker and grabbed his backpack.

“Time I went home.”

There was nothing left to do here. His fretting about Uzuki’s issues wasn’t gonna change a thing, either. All he could do was wait for something to happen and do what he could when it did.

But outside the locker room, he ran into Kento on his way out.

“Yo, Sakuta-sensei. Have a good one,” the kid said.

“Go straight home.”

“Can’t. I gotta hit the store and get me some of that chicken.”

The kid was honest if nothing else. Kento didn’t even slow down—he was out the door already.

“Good-bye, Sensei.”

This time it was Juri’s turn.

“Go straight home,” he said again.

“I will,” she said, clearly meaning it.

She turned once at the door, bowed, and left the building.

Maybe the whole athlete culture drilled it into her, but she really minded her manners, and that made her seem older than she was. The exact opposite of Kento.

“Guess I’d better get going myself.”

But if he left now, he’d probably run into both his students in the elevator. That would be awkward, so he spent a minute pointlessly inspecting the mock exam posters on the wall.

Once he’d wasted enough time, Sakuta took the elevator to the first floor.

He scanned the road outside the office tower, but Kento and Juri were long gone. Kento had that chicken to buy, and Juri had probably gone straight home like kids should.

He’d avoided them, but he ran into someone else he knew.

“Oh, senpai.”

Tomoe.

“Koga. Leaving work?”

The restaurant they both worked at was down this same street. She was in her high school uniform, so she’d likely had a shift right after classes ended.

“You too?” she asked, glancing up at the cram school sign.

“Yep.”

He started walking toward the station, and she fell in step.

“Something wrong?” she asked, frowning at him.

“Could be.”

“Coulda woulda shoulda.”

“Is that a whole thing right now?”

“……?”

Tomoe just blinked at him.

“Forget it. Why’d you ask?”

“You usually go, ‘Oh, it’s you, Koga,’ like you aren’t happy to see me.”

“Do I?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

He’d definitely had stuff on his mind, but Tomoe had always been perceptive like this.

“Fight with Sakurajima?”

“Clear sailing on that front, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t.”

They reached the station and took the pedestrian overpass to avoid a wait at the light. It was a big one going across the whole bus terminal. The total width was a solid eleven yards, so it was less a bridge and more an elevated square.

In one corner, he spotted a young man busking. He was around twenty, Sakuta’s age.

His back was to the railing as he strummed an acoustic guitar. Sakuta didn’t recognize the song. Maybe the man had written it himself. There were CDs in the guitar case that looked self-printed. Probably for sale.

It was past nine, but still plenty of people were passing through the area, business types and students alike. Everyone was trying to get home, so the crowd moved fast and smooth.

The only people stopping to listen were a couple in the uniform of Nodoka’s old school and a pair of girls in some other high school uniform.

Most people never even glanced his way, just passed right on by.

Everyone knew he was there. Sakuta was still on the far side of the overpass but could hear the man singing loud and clear.

“Koga,” he said, slowing to a standstill, his eyes on the busker.

“What?” Tomoe asked, pausing a second later. She followed his gaze.

“What do you make of him?”

“Like how?”

Sakuta leaned back on the rail, and she frowned up at him.

“What do you want me to say here?”

She’d caught enough of his drift to look displeased.

“Your honest opinion.”

Tomoe thought about it.

“I think he’s something else,” she said, choosing her words with care.

“In what way?”

That statement could contain multitudes.

It could be admiration.

Or it could be disparaging.

“Both ways,” she said, like she was loath to admit it. She sure looked annoyed that he’d forced it out of her.

She turned her back on the busker, leaning her elbows on the railing.

“He’s got a goal in mind and the drive to work for it. That much, I admire.”

“Yeah.”

Finding something worth working toward and actually doing so—that alone was enough to dazzle anyone just going through the motions of a life. But the light within them also provoked another kind of emotion—a shadow on the heart.

“And because I admire it, I always look away, pretending I don’t see them. I blow right past, barely even realizing that’s what I’m doing.”

Tomoe’s eyes dropped to the taillights of the cars passing below.

“If I were with friends, someone’d probably go, ‘I’ve never heard that song,’ and we’d all laugh.”

“Not uncommon at all.”

That was simply what the vast majority of people were doing. Everyone passing by knew he was there, but it meant nothing to them. And they were all thinking, He’s not that great or I can’t make out the words or So cringe or Why bother?

He’d seen the same phenomenon last week on campus. Ikumi Akagi earnestly trying to recruit volunteers with the crowd streaming past. To Sakuta’s knowledge, Uzuki had been the only person who bothered to take a flyer from her.

“And even though they just walked right on by, if he gets famous years from now and shows up on the New Year’s pageant, they’ll all boast that they knew him when he was a street musician.”

That was Laplace’s demon speaking, all right.

Already thinking of a future that might not even come to pass.

But that side of Tomoe was what had made him ask. He’d figured she’d give him the answer he was looking for, and she’d done even better.

“Oh, but if we’re talking about famous people we know, then Sakurajima wins hands down.”

This must have got too real for her, because Tomoe started joking around. The mood lightened instantly.

“Well, she is my Mai.”

“Riiight.”

That agreement was halfhearted at best.

“But was that the answer you wanted?” she asked, shifting gears again.

“Straight-A answer. You always come through, Koga.”

“That sure doesn’t feel like a compliment.”

She puffed her cheeks out at him.

“It is one. Trust me.”

This only seemed to deepen her suspicions. People who said “Trust me” were almost always untrustworthy.

But at this point, a mischievous voice called out, “Tomoe-senpai!” and someone threw their arms around her.

“Eeek!”

Tomoe’s squeal of surprise sounded genuine.

Several suits and students stopped to see what the commotion was. The girl hugging Tomoe wore a Minegahara uniform. She was a bit taller than Tomoe, shoulder-length hair curled out at the ends.

No one had the courage to stare at two schoolgirls hugging for long, so people quickly went back to minding their own business.

Only Sakuta was still looking.

“Himeji?” Tomoe said, craning her head.

Only then did the new girl let go.

“Just left cram school. You had a work shift?”

Sakuta knew this girl, too. The Minegahara first-year Kento had a one-sided crush on. Sara Himeji.

“Yep, just left.”

Sara’s eyes shifted sideways, looking at Sakuta.

“Oh, she’s…,” Tomoe began.

“Sara Himeji,” Sara said, talking over her.

“’Sup,” he said, figuring it was best to act like he didn’t know her. Explaining why he did would likely be a headache. That whole preempted-student/teacher-romance thing was best never mentioned again. And keeping his source on that name secret would be better for Kento.

“And this is, uh—” Tomoe tried to introduce him, too.

“Azusagawa-sensei, right?” Sara said, jumping in again.

“Oh, right. He works at your cram school.”

The word sensei provided all the pieces Tomoe needed.

“You don’t take my classes, so I’m surprised you knew that,” he said.

There were quite a few part-time teachers like Sakuta, and most people would never learn all their names. There was nothing to be gained by it.

“I’m in the market for a math teacher,” she said.

That made sense. Especially since that was why he’d learned her name.

“There’s this boy in my class, Yamada—you know him?”

“I teach him, yeah.”

“He said you were real good at teaching, so I was thinking that might be a good fit.”

She grinned at him, a twinkle in her eye. She was serious when it mattered, but she clearly had a sense of humor, too.

“I didn’t know Yamada thought that highly of me.”

Maybe Kento thought if he recommended Sakuta, he’d get to take classes with Sara. That seemed likely. But this was less a cunning ploy than just hopelessness.

“Can I ask for you?” she asked.

Sara’s eyes were locked on him. Staring him right in the eye. She had been the whole time. Like someone told her when she was a kid to look at people when she talked to them, and she was diligently following that advice to this day.

“If you really want to understand the math, I’d say Futaba-sensei’s better. She’s mostly physics but does math, too. If you just wanna pass the tests, I’m more your speed.”

His unvarnished assessment got a giggle out of her.

“Azusagawa-sensei’s pretty funny, huh?” she said, glancing at Tomoe.

“Maybe, but mostly he’s just a weirdo.”

Tomoe wasn’t playing nice.

“Koga, you’re bad for business.”

“You weren’t exactly selling yourself.”

That was almost an outright attack. Sakuta had intended that as an accurate assessment. Most students cared more about their test scores than actual comprehension! At least, Sakuta had.

Sara looked from Sakuta to Tomoe, then said, “Sorry, I’m interrupting here! I’ll leave you to it.”

“Huh? Argh, wait…!” Tomoe tried to stop her, but she was already running off. “We’re not!”

This desperate cry never reached Sara. She was already lost in the crowd.

“Tough break, Tomoe-senpai.”

She hit him with her fiercest glare.

“If you see Himeji at work, make sure you untangle that mess, Azusagawa-sensei.”

“If I can remember.”

“You’d better!”

“Still, she super likes you.”

“We were both on the sports festival committee. So…”

“Hmm.”

“What’s that for?”

“Seems like you’re not that into her.”

Tomoe had definitely been way less familiar. None of the warmth she used with her friend Nana Yoneyama.

“I don’t not like her. But, like—I remade myself for high school, right?”

Her confidence was slipping away.

“And she seems like she was on the ball in junior high?” he asked.

Possibly even earlier. One of those girls at the center of the class even in grade school. He’d had the same impression.

“While I was a total dork.”

Scowling, she started walking. The street musician had put his guitar away, apparently done for the day.

Sakuta glanced at him once, then followed Tomoe.

“Senpai, you’re actually a good teacher?”

“I spent last year studying my ass off. These are the dividends.”

“You were even studying on breaks at work.”

“Oh yeah, Koga, you know what you’re doing yet?”

She’d said something about a girls’ school in the city having referrals available.

“I managed to land a referral. Put the application in last week.”

“Congrats.”

“I ain’t in yet.”

“Referrals are practically guaranteed.”

“So I hear, but you never know.”

“Results announced in late November?”

“Why do you know?”

That just came with the cram-school-teacher territory. His students weren’t sitting exams this year, but he’d heard plenty of chatter and wound up picking up stuff.

“I’m expecting presents when I get in.”

“Like what?”

“Wait, you’ll actually get me something? Then I know just the thing.”

“What?”

“The earphones from Zukki’s commercial.”

They were passing the electronics store by the station’s north exit. Tomoe’s eyes were on the store entrance. Like he should buy them here. This was unmistakably the place to buy earphones if he was shopping local—nearly all the electronics in his house came from here.

“They’re not cheap.”

They were the latest wireless earbuds.

“Like twenty thousand?”

“Even worse than I thought.”

“It’ll help make up for everything.”

“What did I do?”

“Years of sexual harassment.”

She might have a point there.

“If this clears the slate, maybe it’s worth it.”

“Dang, I shoulda asked for something pricier.”

“Let me off with Zukki earphones.”

“You’re serious?”

He knew perfectly well she’d been joking.

“You’ve helped Kaede quite a bit.”

Kaede had gotten the hang of waiting tables, but at first she’d only managed it when Sakuta was also on duty. But their schedules didn’t always line up, so Tomoe had done her best to take shifts with Kaede whenever he couldn’t. And that had brought the two of them together.

“Guess I’m not surprised you know Zukki,” he said.

“Kaede told me all about her. How nice she’d been, how fun her shows were. These days, I’m even hearing her name at school.”

“Huh.”

That really drove home how much buzz there was.

“She’s at your college?”

A loaded question.

“Same major, so I guess we’re friends.”

He certainly thought they were.

“You sure know a lot of cute girls,” Tomoe said, rolling her eyes.

“You’re one of ’em.”

“That’s not how I meant it!”

He felt like he’d done this same bit recently. Was that with Miori? Probably.

“I’m leaving!”

Tomoe stalked off down the stairs, fuming.

“I’ll walk you there.”

They’d be going the same way until they were over this bridge anyway.

She grumbled at him for a few more minutes, but when she was finished with that, she started peppering him with questions about school. “Is college fun?” “Fun how?” “Did you have trouble making friends?” When that was done, he saw her off and headed on home.