Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 10 - Chapter 4.4

4

No one spoke on the drive home. There was one more passenger this time, yet silence reigned.

Hands on the wheel, Mai focused on driving. Sakuta was in the passenger seat, and Nodoka was behind him, staring out the window, watching the world go by. In the side mirror, he could see a melancholy look on her face.

For a while, the car stuck to main roads, but as they passed Yoga, Mai took the big sweeping curve onto the Daisan Keihin toll road. They passed through the electronic toll collection gate and sped up. By the time the Tama River shot by beneath them, Mai’s car had merged into traffic and was going fifty miles per hour.

From there, they cruised along, covering a lot of ground.

Unable to bear the oppressive silence any longer, Sakuta popped the cap on the soda he’d bought at the convenience store just before the concert. Peach flavor.

He took a sip.

“This is pretty good.”

“……”

“……”

Mai and Nodoka did not deign to respond.

So much for his attempt at lightening the mood. Such harsh rewards.

He was still reeling when a voice from the back seat hit him.

“In the green room before the show…”

When every other emotion was being held back, only regret remained. There was no trace of Nodoka’s usual spunk in her voice. It sounded so different, for a moment Sakuta didn’t even realize it was her.

He checked the mirror again, and she had her elbow propped up against the doorframe, head leaning against the glass. Her eyes were still on the scenery but likely not seeing much of anything.

“Uzuki asked us all something.”

Mai said nothing.

Sakuta followed her lead, waiting.

Nodoka’s next words were very quiet.

“‘Do you think we can make it to the Budokan?’”

“……”

“Any other day, I’d have said, ‘You know we can.’ Or ‘Let’s make it happen.’ I always have.”

Nodoka’s whisper was almost lost in the hum of the engine.

“It was a thing we always did. When we were upset about a gig getting canceled or we messed up on the job and lost confidence. When we threw ourselves into singing and dancing lessons but weren’t seeing any increase in fans and felt like crying. When Aika and Matsuri graduated. Any time one of us felt crushed by it all, it was like our code. ‘Let’s reach Budokan together.’ That’s how we’ve always picked ourselves back up.”

Her voice was getting choked up. Not from sadness, or loneliness, and obviously not from joy. This was regret. She was disappointed in herself. Her eyes were welling up.

“I’ve always said it, but today I couldn’t.”

“……”

“Not me, not anyone else. The words are so easy, but when Uzuki asked, no one said anything.”

“……”

“And I know why. The first one to speak up was always Uzuki. She was always the one who pulled us all out of our moods.”

It was easy to pile on afterward. Someone had already said it. Someone had already made the choice. The burden wasn’t on them.

“Uzuki was keeping all of us afloat. And now she’s the one who’s lost…and we couldn’t do anything for her.”

Sakuta didn’t think this was entirely true. When Uzuki’s voice had died midshow, every Sweet Bullet member had stepped up and helped cover.

It had been a problem that could easily have derailed everything, and they’d chosen not to cancel but to finish out their set. Only they could have pulled that off.

There were definitely fans who’d noticed something was wrong. But since the show went on, they hadn’t been worried. The results spoke for themselves. It was the best possible outcome given what they were dealing with.

That wasn’t a stunt you could pull off on short notice. Nodoka had mentioned they were spending a lot less time together these days, but today’s concert had demonstrated the depths of their power as a group. And the audience had been that into it because that came across.

But saying any of that now would mean little to her.

“I just assumed Uzuki would always be okay.”

The car was still cruising along.

Mai still wasn’t saying anything.

Sakuta gave her a sidelong glance, but she was just maintaining a safe distance from the white SUV up ahead.

Mai’s car had taken them through Kawasaki, and they were entering the Yokohama city limits. She took an exit to the Yokohama Shindo.

The navigator screen showed they just had to pass the toll at Totsuka, then follow Route 1 all the way to Fujisawa.

For a while, they drove in silence. Finally, Mai said, “What’ll you do tomorrow?”

She asked in a totally typical tone of voice. Her hands rested on the wheel, and her expression was relaxed.

Nodoka jumped at the question and peeled her face off the window. She righted her posture, her back a bit too straight.

Maybe she thought she’d be scolded for all that whining.

Mai was generally super nice, and while she didn’t often say so aloud, she really did wish Nodoka every success. She always downloaded the track whenever they put out a new song, and she bought the CD, too. She’d put Sweet Bullet music on in the car on the way there today.

But the flip side of that was that she could be kinda harsh when anyone griped about the rigors of celebrity life. She was just as harsh on herself—and that was part of why she’d maintained her popularity.

Sakuta himself had shifted to the window side of his seat. He’d taken collateral damage from one of these spats before. She probably wouldn’t start slapping anyone in the car, but his flight reflex had kicked in.

Mai noticed and shot him a quick glance—but said nothing.

He’d almost rather she had. The silence was scary.

“Tomorrow will be just the four of us. No Uzuki.”

“Can you do it?” Mai asked.

“Yes. Obviously.”

Nodoka’s tone didn’t sound too confident. She was still scared. They didn’t know for sure they could pull this off. But she wanted to make it work, and that’s why she said so.

“Okay,” Mai said. A smile played about her lips.

“We can’t let Uzuki go on freaking out. We’ve gotta keep our shit together.”