Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 10 - Chapter 3.4

4

“Okay, that was far.”

Behold, the Budokan.

It had taken them a solid three-hours to make the trip, and Sakuta’s mutter was steeped in all manner of regret. The long journey had left him aching all over. His body screamed in agony, primarily caused by all that pedaling. Getting back to the station had taken more out of him than anticipated.

“I told you so,” Uzuki said with a wince, resting next to him. All those intense dance lessons had her fit as a fiddle, and she didn’t look the least bit tired.

Bathed in the streetlights, she looked ready to go another round.

They were well into fall, and past six, the skies were dark.

In the dim glow of the streetlights, the Nippon Budokan definitely cut an imposing figure.

In the open space by the entrance, the wind rustled through the multicolored leaves.

It felt like the air here was extra clean.

Almost like when you step onto the grounds of a shrine. Equal parts still and somber.

There didn’t seem to be anything happening here tonight, and the area was hushed.

A few people were cutting across the square, but only Sakuta and Uzuki had stopped to stare up at the building.

“What do you think?”

“……”

Uzuki clasped her hands together behind her back, staring up at her dream manifest. For a while she said nothing, just blinked occasionally. From her profile, Sakuta could not discern her thoughts. So he said nothing and waited for her to speak.

“Sakuta.”

“Mm?”

“Do you know how many idol groups stand on this stage every year?”

“Nope.”

Not only did he not know, it had never occurred to him to look it up. At best, he had the vague impression that lots of idols or musicians made that their goal. Even though the name itself suggested it was not primarily a concert venue.

“At most, five groups make their debut here a year. Some years, not even one.”

“…Ah.”

That number didn’t really mean much to him one way or another. But from the way she picked her words, he could tell only a select few were ever allowed to stand on that stage.

“And there’s thousands of idol groups in Japan now.”

She spoke like that was just some unrelated little fun fact.

“I dunno if all of them are seriously trying to get here, though.”

But five out of a thousand was certainly not a lot. Clearly an extremely low number.

“And where are you ranked, Zukki?”

“Sweet Bullet’s about thirty right now.”

“That sounds pretty good.”

He was legitimately impressed.

“Not really,” Uzuki said, shaking her head.

“Yeah?”

Even if it wasn’t good enough to secure them a spot on that stage, Sakuta thought “thirty” sounded like it symbolized a lot of potential. But Uzuki seemed to feel the opposite.

“We’re on TV, they know our faces, people spot us on the street—but all we can fill is two-thousand-seat venues.”

Uzuki looked up at the Budokan.

“How many does this seat?” he asked.

“Ten thousand.”

She placed no weight on that number. It was just a statement of fact.

Ten thousand minus two thousand was a whopping eight thousand.

Sakuta didn’t really know how big a gulf that eight thousand fans was. What he did know was far more basic.

“But you knew that from the get-go?”

“…Yeah, I did. I knew that when we made this our goal. I knew, but I forget it along the way.”

Her eyes dropped to the ground a few yards out.

“Is this really where I wanted to go?”

“……”

Sakuta didn’t have an answer to that. Only she could know, and it was something she’d have to make up her own mind about.

“I never used to worry about these things.”

“Would you rather go back to not reading the room?”

He threw that question out, and Uzuki didn’t overreact. She just kept her head down and shook her head.

As clear a sign as any.

Uzuki was well aware of how she’d changed.

Sakuta didn’t know when that had happened. He didn’t have an exact date or time. But in this moment, she clearly did know.

“I’m glad I learned how. I mean, I finally get your sarcasm now.”

Reading the room allowed her to crack jokes like that.

“And you can tell when your friends are being snide.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about!” she laughed. “You’re so mean!”

“Well, gotta live up to my rep as an incorrigible tease.”

That earned him a wince.

“And now that I get these things, I know what my college friends actually mean when they say I’m ‘amazing.’ A lot of things a lot of people said have taken on new meanings.”

Uzuki looked up, gazing into the distance. The Budokan was still in front of her, but it felt like she was looking right through it. Or maybe not looking at anything at all.

“Like, there’s all these people in my head saying stuff, and if I listen to all of them, then I don’t know who I am anymore.”

She smiled, like she was laughing at herself. This was something the old Uzuki had never done.

“……”

When Sakuta said nothing back, her smile faded.

“Sorry,” she said. “What am I even talking about, right?”

Now she was trying to laugh off what she’d just said.

“I get it,” he said, not letting her wriggle out.

“……”

“I get what you’re saying.”

“Really?”

She seemed unconvinced and faintly taken aback.

“If you know how other people feel, that changes how you feel.”

That had happened to Sakuta.

When he’d made his beloved Mai cry, that had really gotten to him.

When he’d realized what was going through Shouko’s head, he could barely stand it.

And to his mind, both of those emotions had been unquestionably genuine.

No matter how much thought he’d put into an answer, a single moment could change it.

Being with other people changed him.

Contact with others let him discover new sides of himself.

“The ‘self’ is less defined than you’d think. Nobody really knows who they are.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

These days, other people’s feelings and moods rush indiscriminately through phone screens. Even if you aren’t looking for it, information overload is everywhere, and there are endless sources of things influencing people.

You might not wanna know. You might not wanna see. But once you knew, once you saw—it was too late.

You can’t go back to not knowing.

That knowledge makes a new you.

And you have to live with yourself.

Out of nowhere, Uzuki had learned to read the room. A huge quantity of information and people’s feelings had flooded her senses. She never noticed her friend’s snide remarks before, but now she was all too aware. She’d learned the difference between what people say and what they think, between what they show and what lies within. And a world based around those discrepancies was hardly appealing.

But she still said she was glad it had happened. And while marking the difference between her own interior and exterior—she’d smiled.

“Think this is Adolescence Syndrome?” she asked, looking right at him.

The question caught him by surprise, but he did not need to look for an answer.

“Probably.”

“If it’s cured, will I go back?”

“Probably.”

“That would be rough.”

He got why she’d say that.

 “They laughed at me, too?”

That one phrase said it all.

She didn’t want to go back to not knowing when people made fun of her. That’s why she’d kept hanging out with those friends, enjoying their conversations. Eating lunch with them. That was the normal life she’d obtained now that she could read the room. But she’d also started to doubt herself, which was why she’d skipped school today.

“Which me did you like better, Sakuta?”

“I like both.”

“But you do have a preference.”

“I like both.”

This time, he put a bit more emphasis on the both.

That got a hint of a smile from her.

“I’d say the new me has more fun talking to you.”

“Sorry I was such a bore.”

“I mean, the witty repartee just doesn’t stop.”

Just like she claimed, Uzuki was visibly enjoying herself. And Sakuta could hardly object to that. There was definitely a kind of banter he could only do with her now, and he was undeniably having fun.

“Anyway, talking with you sure helped clear my mind,” she said, stretching.

He found it hard to believe this had cleared much of anything.

“Thanks for keeping me company.”

Her tone got weirdly formal, and she made a show of bowing.

When she straightened up, there was a bashful smile on her face.

It was definitely the best-looking fake smile he’d ever seen.

“……”

And that made it impossible for him to leave well enough alone.

“Sakuta? What’s up?” she asked, pretending she didn’t know.

They’d spent all day together, but he still hadn’t moved even one step closer to the heart of the matter.

What had she been searching for in Misakiguchi?

What had she been trying to find at the Budokan? He really wasn’t sure.

Had Uzuki really been searching for herself? He didn’t even know that.

But she wasn’t fleeing reality. Her presence here proved that. If she was, this would be the last place she’d want to be.

As he mulled this over, a buzzing interrupted his thoughts.

Uzuki’s cell phone.

She pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

“It’s Nodoka.”

She looked him right in the eye and made a face. Then she put the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” she said, mega-cheery. “Sorry, I’m late for rehearsal, right?”

Apparently, they were still doing prep for the concerts that weekend.

“Now? Um, I’m still in the city, so I’ll rush right over to the studio.”

Nodoka must have asked where she was. Uzuki had wisely elected not to say, “The Budokan.”

“I should be there in thirty! Mm… Huh? Oh, yeah, he is. Hang on.”

With that, she held her phone out toward him.

“Mm?”

“Nodoka said to put you on.”

“……”

He silently took it from her. He expected Nodoka would give him an earful, but he wanted to talk to her anyway. What he’d heard from Uzuki had left him with a favor to ask.

“Toyohama? Got a question for you.”

Sakuta decided to steal the initiative.

“Huh? I should be the one asking the questions!”

“Can we still get tickets for the concert Saturday?”

He straight up ignored her complaints.

“Aren’t you going out with Mai?”

News spread fast.

“Yeah, and I’m thinking a concert would be a good date.”

He’d have to ask Mai what she thought, but she likely wouldn’t object.

“…Hang on.”

Nodoka left the receiver. He could hear her whispering, probably checking with someone. After a twenty-second silence, she said, “I can get two people on the list.”

“Noice. Then put us on.”

“Sure. But…is Uzuki that bad?”

Her voice got real quiet.

“I dunno.”

He wasn’t expecting anything to go down onstage.

Uzuki was a lot better at hiding her feelings, and that left him without much insight. He just figured it was worth attending.

“Just hook us up.”

“Got it. Bye.”

Nodoka hung up on him.

He turned to give the phone back and found Uzuki looking at the moon in the night sky. It wasn’t quite full, but close enough.

“There’s no rabbit up there,” she murmured.

“Probably for the best. No air or food.”

Sakuta held out the phone, and she took it from him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Uzuki chuckled.