Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 11 - Chapter 3.4

4

“Bye, Ikumi-sensei!”

“Take care.”

Ikumi was out in the hall, waving good-bye to the junior high kids. Two boys and a girl, the same ones who’d been at the campus festival flea market. Ikumi’s right arm was no longer in a sling. Like she’d said, it had only taken a week to heal.

Once her students were out of sight, she let out a dramatic sigh. That was for Sakuta’s benefit.

He didn’t have to ask if she’d done that on purpose.

It was the weekend after he’d bumped into Miwako outside the restaurant—Saturday, November 12.

Sakuta and Ikumi were both on their college campus at Kanazawa-hakkei. Specifically, he had come through the main gates, turned right, and headed toward the glass building in the back. It had been built quite recently with an eye on local outreach. Most people simply called it Hall 8.

He’d heard it was used for volunteer groups or off-campus clubs, but this was his first time seeing the building in person.

“Sorry for not warning you about him,” Miwako said as Ikumi came back in. He’d talked her into just saying someone wanted to observe her volunteer work, without mentioning Sakuta’s name.

“No, this isn’t on you, Ms. Tomobe.”

Evidently, she blamed him. He pretended not to notice. If he didn’t notice, the implication was lost to the world.

“Oh? Then can I leave this to the two of you?”

She glanced at both of them and then shouldered her purse, saying she had places to be.

“Go on. Thanks for coming.”

“See you next week.”

Miwako left, fluttering her half-raised hand. They listened to her footsteps retreat into the distance until they were no longer audible.

That left Sakuta and Ikumi alone with the silence.

“……”

“……”

Without a word, Ikumi began erasing formulas from the whiteboard. They had been working on a basic factorization problem.

Sakuta stepped forward and started to help.

“Akagi, you mad at me?”

It didn’t show, but that sigh had definitely been reproachful.

“We’ve got that wager going,” she said, in a regular tone of voice.

“Yeah.”

“And what were the terms of it?”

“Seeing if you can forget me before I remember you.”

“And if you keep wandering around in front of me, I can’t forget you no matter how hard I try.”

“A gambler’s life is hard.”

“I didn’t take you for the competitive type.”

That line was a bit more forceful. She finished erasing the board, having not looked his way once. What an awkward way to fume.

“I said I don’t take bets I can’t win.”

“You did not mean it at the time.”

She gathered up the black, red, and blue dry-erase markers and put them away in a case. Then she absently glanced at the clock—and her eyes widened, as if what she’d seen was bad news.

Sakuta followed her gaze.

It was 3:40 PM.

When he looked back down, she finally met his eyes.

“You got somewhere to be?” he asked.

“You sure have a sharp eye.”

“The life of a hero sure is a busy one.”

“Will you stop that?”

“You’re still going, right?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, attempting a smile.

“The lost little girl in Yokosuka? Or the railroad crossing accident? There was a stolen bicycle, too.”

“……You’ve done your homework.”

Her smile stiffened.

“Were you gonna hit all three?”

The three dream tweets he’d found had times far enough apart that if she headed out now, she could probably make it.

“I’ve really gotta run,” she said, clearly done answering questions. She was already headed to the door.

He called after her anyway.

“How many you gotta rescue before your regret disappears?”

“……”

She froze in the doorway.

“…Did you remember something?” she asked, not turning back.

“I just figured not helping me in junior high’s the sort of thing you’d still be dragging around.”

Miwako had put the idea in his head, and it wasn’t really based on anything tangible. But the words got her to turn and face him.

“I…!”

She spun around, gaze locked on his. Her emotions stabbed into him. But her eyes wavered anxiously, and she looked ready to cry.

He didn’t know what she was going through. The only thing he was certain of was that in this moment, she was more emotional than he’d ever seen her be.

But the glimpse beneath her calm mask was soon painted over by a different emotion.

Before any further words emerged from her lips, a shiver ran down her spine—and she clapped both hands over her mouth as she crouched down.

“Akagi…? Is this…”

He remembered what happened at the festival.

The poltergeist.

Sakuta ran over to her, and the hair hanging down her back went from straight to gathered. Then it turned, twisting, the ends pointed upward like she was submerged in a bath.

Neither Sakuta nor Ikumi was touching her hair. And it was held firmly together without a single hairpin.

“Again…not now…!”

She moved her hand from her mouth to her thigh and pinched it hard. It was painful to watch. Who was she talking to?

Then he saw a snakelike something moving beneath her blouse. It traveled down her throat, across her shoulders, and into her sleeve. There was no one here, but the folds of her clothes writhed and let him track it.

The door and windows were open, but there was no breeze. Neither of them was touching her sleeve. There was nothing there, yet it was moving like ripples on the water.

“……”

Seeing the poltergeist firsthand again had his heart in turmoil, and he didn’t know what to say to her.

He couldn’t move. His mind was held captive by the strange phenomenon in front of him. He was beyond shock. His blood simply ran cold. Unadulterated fear of the unknown raged through his head. It was just that unsettling.

Yet his hand reached out on its own.

Trying to grab the invisible snake, it got a firm grip on the twisting wrist of her left hand.

“?!”

But all he felt was Ikumi’s surprise and the thinness of her wrist.

“Sorry, Akagi,” he said, and before she could respond, he rolled up her sleeve to her elbow.

Nothing there. The snake didn’t exist.

“……?!”

But what he did see there raised another wave of questions and surprises.

For some reason, her pale skin was covered in letters, like they’d been written with Magic Marker.

 You okay there?

 Sorry ’bout the sprain.

 Watch yourself with him.

 It’s all going well.

They almost seemed like texts.

“Is this…?”

He looked to her for an answer.

“Let go…!” she whispered.

Sakuta still had a firm grip on her wrist.

He released it.

Then the letters on her arm began running, like she was under a shower, moving from her elbow to her wrist and vanishing.

Ikumi pulled her sleeve down, hiding the red mark on her wrist where he’d held her.

“Was that part of the poltergeist?”

That was definitely not reminders like some kid might write on their hands to remember what they needed for school tomorrow.

“Nothing good comes of spending time with you, Azusagawa.”

“So I really am the cause.”

The previous poltergeist incident had also happened while he was watching. Because he’d sent ripples through her heart. Because he’d caused her stress. The math worked out.

“Like I said, I know how to fix it.”

She was obviously pushing him away.

“So you know what this poltergeist is?”

“……”

She didn’t answer, but silence was the answer.

“That’s why you’re sure you’re fine.”

Something this outlandish would normally drive you around the bend.

Ikumi was able to handle it because she knew exactly what it was. And that it wasn’t something that would do her harm. And if it was using words, it was human.

Which left one question.

“Who is it?”

“……”

Ikumi didn’t answer.

He felt like he was getting closer to the truth.

“If I tell you, it’ll affect the wager.”

She said that but the way Sakuta saw it, he hadn’t made any progress at all.

Sakuta still had no clue who Ikumi really was. What was going through her mind, how she felt about all this—Ikumi Akagi herself remained an enigma.

No matter what angle he came at her from, the impenetrable walls she had up prevented him from getting any closer.

He was just walking in circles around those walls, gazing up at the castle she lived in. Not even sure she actually lived in it.

Ultimately, he was forced to retreat again, with nothing to show for it. Feeling like there was nothing he could do without someone rolling in with reinforcements.

No end in sight.

Perhaps that was the whole reason Ikumi had set this wager in the first place.

But as he thought that—

“Ikumi.”

—someone called her name.

Sakuta looked up and saw a man standing in the hall. Early twenties. He was wearing a suit, so he’d probably already entered the workforce. About Sakuta’s height, bespectacled. Diligent looking.

“I said we were done seeing each other,” Ikumi said, straightening up. The poltergeist subsided.

“Sorry. I just…had to talk.”

“I’m afraid I’ve got places to be.”

She picked her bag off the floor and slipped past the man without so much as making eye contact.

He started to reach for her but seemed to think better of it.

Ikumi’s footsteps soon vanished down the stairs.

It was plain to see these two had history.

If this man knew Ikumi, talking to him might help. But how to start that conversation?

While Sakuta dithered, the man’s gaze settled on him.

“Are you…Azusagawa?”

“……”

He had not expected a total stranger—especially one not even a student here—to know his name.

But he was grateful for the opener.

“And you are…?”

“I used to date her,” the man admitted, eyes turned the way she’d gone.

“So you’re…”

“Her ex.”

The man looked uncomfortable, then tried to cover that with a smile.

Five minutes later, Sakuta was on a bench outside.

On the gingko lane.

The soccer team was practicing on the field opposite. The coach yelled, “Footwork!”

It was Saturday, but there were still quite a few students on campus strolling up and down the lane. The two men going past must have been science seniors. “I can’t get this thesis done!” “I’m just as doomed.”

“Ah, the thesis. That was a nightmare.”

The voice came from Sakuta’s side.

The other man was sitting on the bench, a distinct space between them.

The man who called himself Ikumi’s ex.

He’d said he was waiting for someone and followed Sakuta out.

His name was Seiichi Takasaka. He’d introduced himself on the way here.

His business card bore the name of a company Sakuta had never heard of and an equally obscure division within.

Sakuta glanced sideways and found Seiichi with an unlit cigarette in his lips.

“Mind if I smoke?” he asked, catching the glance. He was already reaching for the lighter in his pocket.

“Can I ask you not to?”

“Mm?”

“This is a nonsmoking area.”

That was a whole new thing here in college. The campus had clear divisions between areas where you could smoke and areas you couldn’t. The smoking areas were by the club building, behind the science building, and over by the labs.

Most students turned twenty during their time here. That meant they could legally smoke. Quite a few students darted out for a puff during their breaks.

“Oh really?”

Seiichi put the cigarette back in the box, wincing. He’d been making some variation on this expression the whole time. It was probably an expression of his discomfort at having a witness to his attempt to talk to Ikumi.

“I don’t usually smoke. But when I’m tense or need a distraction…”

As he made excuses, he put the yellow box back in his suit pocket. Seiichi didn’t smell like smoke, so this was likely true.

“So when I do smoke, I wind up coughing, and everyone’s just like, ‘Stop, then!’”

Seiichi kept talking without Sakuta asking a thing. It wasn’t really for Sakuta’s benefit, and it didn’t seem like he cared much if Sakuta was listening. It was like the cigarettes. Just a tic to hide his discomfort.

“When did you and Akagi meet?”

“When she was volunteering in her first year of high school. I asked her out in her second.”

“She mentioned me?”

“I forget why. She showed me her junior high graduation album once. It was kind of like a guessing game, seeing if I could figure out who she’d been friends with and who her first crush was.”

“And you were unlucky enough to point at me?”

“Yep. And her smile faded fast.”

“That sure makes it sound like there was something.”

But to Sakuta’s knowledge, they’d barely had any contact. Not been in love, not had any big fights nor any bittersweet memories of youth.

Kaede had been bullied and developed Adolescence Syndrome, and nobody in class had believed the truth, leaving Sakuta ostracized.

“She told me a bit about what went down in her third-year class. Seemed like she was still hung up on you a bit, so it stuck with me. Maybe I was just jealous.”

Seiichi turned toward him as he spoke, which made Sakuta look back.

“Didn’t ever think I’d meet you myself.”

“I didn’t expect to meet Akagi’s ex, either.”

Kotomi had told him about the boyfriend thing, but forget half believing it—he hadn’t even managed 20 percent. And was genuinely shocked to find it was true.

“What’s your relationship with her, Azusagawa? Uh, are you seeing each other?”

“Nothing like that, no.”

“Oh…”

Seiichi’s eyes dropped to the ground. He looked a little relieved, but also a little forlorn. How had he taken that answer? Sakuta wasn’t sure.

But there was one thing that came across loud and clear: Seiichi still loved her.

“Why’d you split up?”

“Short answer—my fault.”

“Is the long answer any different?”

“Well, I’m still the bad guy,” Seiichi said with a chuckle. At least half of that was him laughing at himself. “The day she graduated high school, she told me we were done seeing each other. On this thing, out of the blue.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“And you just accepted that?”

“I figured I didn’t have any right to argue.”

“Why is that?”

“Last year, I was a senior and really struggling to land a job. Didn’t have time for her.”

“The job search is that rough?”

Last term, he’d seen a lot of seniors in suits on campus. Post-festival, there were almost none left.

“It was for me. It’s a seller’s market, so the smart ones landed a tentative offer at a big company and goofed off.”

It sounded like he was talking about a specific friend. He had a very sour expression on his face.

“I did employment exams at fifty places and failed them all. By the fifty-first place, I was all out of things to say. I mean, what the hell is your fifty-first choice?”

“Yeah.”

“They ask why’d you apply to us, and it’s not like you’ve got a reason. I started with the big names you’ve heard of and compromised when that didn’t work, and kept moving down the list when that didn’t. Rinse and repeat fifty times and I stopped caring. Just give me a damn job, I thought. And the interviewers could tell that’s where I was at. They knew I was still left on the shelf in November, December.”

“……”

Having never been involved in that kind of hiring season, Sakuta didn’t know what to say. He just waited for more.

“I had some confidence before I went in. After starting college, I did volunteer work and thought I knew more about the world than most students. But after being told I wasn’t wanted fifty times, I didn’t even know how to promote myself. And everyone I knew was landing tentative offers, so I was starting to panic…”

Seiichi’s voice was getting gloomier and gloomier. He’d started his story as if it were a funny anecdote about past trials, but…

“And while that was happening, you and Akagi…?” Sakuta asked, getting it back on track.

“She was there for me the whole time. She’d come over, cook, iron my interview shirts. Wake me up when I had an early call before the alarm even rang, made lunches for me.”

“……”

Honestly, this part came as a bit of a surprise. He still hadn’t been convinced all of Kotomi’s story was true.

“And she never once wished me luck on my way out to an interview.”

She must have thought that would add to the pressure.

A very Ikumi thing to do.

“When I got back, she’d just say, ‘Welcome home.’ Not ‘How’d it go?’ She never let it show, either. Even though her entrance exams must have left her just as strung out.”

He could totally see Ikumi doing that. Supporting her boyfriend but never slacking off on her own studying. Her clear moral compass included herself, which meant she was never allowed to cut corners. She’d likely never even considered taking time off.

“I still don’t know what ultimately did you in.”

So far, he’d just been bragging about his ex.

“The more stressed out I got, the more I started to resent her.”

“……”

“I remember Christmas Eve. I saw her studying in her room and felt like that was silent criticism of me. Before I knew it, I’d told her not to come by for a while.”

“That’s pretty bad.”

“I entirely agree.”

But everyone had the blood rush to their head sometimes. If you blew the first move, what mattered most was the second. A second blunder could be fatal.

“I should have apologized right away. But I wasn’t mature enough to do that. I believed I couldn’t afford to do anything else that would make me look weak, but that was just me being weak.”

“Yeah.” Sakuta nodded.

Seiichi let out a wheezy laugh there. Acknowledging that Sakuta’s blunt agreement felt better than any attempts to play nice.

“But you did get hired,” Sakuta said, gaze dropping to the card in his hands. That proved it.

“After the New Year, finally.”

“You told her?”

“I figured I should leave her be until exams were over. And the upshot…”

“While you were waiting, she broke up with you?”

National universities often announced their exam results in mid-March. High school graduation ceremonies came first. Sakuta’s had.

“That she did.” Seiichi nodded. The biggest wince of the day. A bitter look at his own past failures.

“So why come see her now?”

It made sense that it had taken time to sort through things, but if there was another reason, he’d like to know. That might give Sakuta a clue to his forgotten past with Ikumi.

“I saw her tweets.”

“……”

“That sounded creepy, huh?”

“A bit.”

“That’s how the world sees it. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything…but it said she had a dream where she got someone hurt and was arrested for it.”

“Akagi, arrested?”

Both hurting people and trouble with the police did not sound like Ikumi at all. He had to ask.

“You’ve heard stories about the dreaming hashtag?”

“You believe that stuff?”

“Not really something grown-ups believe, is it? But I couldn’t get it out of my mind.”

Sakuta understood that. What if it did come true? And since Sakuta had experience with something like prophetic dreams, he really couldn’t dismiss these things.

“Do you know the date?”

“Hang on.”

Seiichi pulled out of his phone and hunted for the tweet in question.

“November twenty-seventh.”

That date rang a bell.

Ikumi had passed along the invite to a class reunion held that day.

A junior high reunion.

With that class…

Coincidence? Or…

“Since I saw that tweet, I got all nervous. Felt like I shouldn’t have left her on her own.”

His lingering feelings for her were evident in his tone.

“Being there for others is what keeps her going.”

He said that mostly to himself, but the idea wormed its way into Sakuta’s thoughts, permeating his being.

“Maybe, yeah.”

Agreement came after the fact.

Helping other people was how she helped herself. That matched his concept of Ikumi.

That was why her heroic actions had always felt so risky.

That was why she couldn’t stop.

If she ever stopped helping, she’d collapse.

“Takasaka…”

“Mm?”

“Do you still care about Akagi?”

“I know I should have let her go by now…” Seiichi got to his feet. He was checking the time on his phone—maybe he was supposed to be at work. “Right, if it’s not too much to ask, can I get your contact info? Let me know if anything happens with her. If it gets to be a problem, feel free to block me.”

His fingers were running across the screen, likely firing up a chat app.

“Sorry, I don’t have a phone.”

“Huh?”

This fact always came as a surprise to people.

“That’s not an awkward way of saying no. I just got sick of it all in junior high and haven’t carried one since.”

The original motivation for this decision was long since gone. But since he was getting by fine without one, he’d never been motivated to pick one up.

“Oh.”

Seiichi looked momentarily at a loss but soon gave up and pocketed his phone.

“Then if the stars align.”

“Yep.”

Both of them probably assumed they would never meet again. Seiichi headed off toward the front gate. He neither paused nor looked back. Why would he? There was nothing to be gained from that.

Sakuta didn’t bother watching him for long. But he had a good reason not to. He sensed someone sitting next to him, and his mind turned that way.

Not just any old someone. A red someone.

A miniskirt Santa was occupying the seat Seiichi had vacated. Her legs were crossed, an arm propped on them, chin in hand. She was looking at him through long lashes.

“It’s Saturday. What are you doing on campus?”

“Being surprised by the sudden manifestation of a miniskirt Santa.”

“Ew.”

Touko rolled her eyes at him. He’d meant it, so this seemed unwarranted. But running into her suited his purposes. He had loads of question for Touko Kirishima.

“What did you do to Akagi?”

“I merely gave her a present. Everyone wants presents.”

“Santa Claus handles poltergeist distribution?”

“Hardly,” Touko laughed. “That is not her Adolescence Syndrome.”

Sakuta had been starting to think that himself. The letters written on her arm bore signs of a personality, of someone else’s will. Pretty different from your standard hauntings. Those words were a clear attempt at communication.

“Well, what is it?”

“Santa’s not allowed to blab people’s secrets.”

Touko held his gaze, her smile a challenge.

“Is the dreaming hashtag also your fault?”

If she wouldn’t talk about Ikumi, he’d just have to try another approach.

“Everyone worries about the future.”

“So you show them dreams about it?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself. I’m not showing anything. They’re doing that on their own.”

This was getting him nowhere. He’d finally met her again but was learning nada.

“No more questions?” she asked, yawning. There was a phone in her hand now. She was working it one-handed. Santa Claus was a smartphone pro.

“Then one more.”

“What?”

She didn’t look up from the screen.

“Give me your phone number.”

“……”

Her thumb froze midswipe.

Then she gave him some side-eye.

“Oh, should I tell you mine first?”

“No thanks.”

Flatly rejecting his offer, Touko shifted her focus back to her phone. This was a nonstarter. Her attitude made that clear.

“What was your major again?” she asked abruptly.

“Statistical science.”

“Is that a math thing?”

She didn’t even look up.

“It could be described that way.”

“If you’re an egghead, then do you have pi memorized?”

“I know 3.1415926535 at least.”

“Good enough.”

He was unclear what convinced her, but she thrust her screen in his face, saying, “Three, two…”

A very short countdown.

There were eleven digits on her screen. A number starting with 090.

“One, zero! Time’s up!”

She yanked her wrist back, hiding the screen.

“One more time.”

“That was your only chance! Also, we’re being interrupted.”

Touko turned to the footsteps coming up from behind.

“Hey,” Mai said, stepping into view.

“How was your remedial class, Mai?”

“That is not what this was! The professor rescheduled a class that got canceled earlier this term!”

She reached out and twisted his cheek.

“Of course, I was filming on the original date, so this works in my favor.”

Mai let go of him and looked at the seat next to him.

“Were you talking to someone?”

“See for yourself. Touko Kirishima—”

He found himself gesturing to an empty seat.

“……”

He did a 360 scan of his surroundings and found no miniskirt Santas. She’d vanished into thin air.

“She was here?” Mai asked, also looking around.

“Yep, definitely.”

“Huh…”

Sure felt like a trickster spirit at work. He’d had more questions for her…but no use getting dejected now. He had remembered all eleven digits.

“What happened with Akagi?”

“A lot. Also met her ex-boyfriend.”

“Her what?”

“It’s a long story.”

He got to his feet.

“Then tell me on the way home.”

“Oh, about that.”

“Mm?”

“I was thinking about stopping by my parents’ place.”

He’d gotten rid of everything from junior high, graduation album included. There was nothing to find by going home. It wasn’t even the same place they’d lived at the time.

But it had been a small neighborhood. It’s possible his parents remembered something about Ikumi.

Parents had their own social networks.

And that thing about her getting arrested was hard to ignore.

“Then let’s get some beaker pudding from Yokohama Station.”

“Mm? Mai, you’re coming?”

“I haven’t been by since that time last summer. Come on.”

Mai headed off without seeing what he thought.

And that meant he had no choice but to fall in line.