Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 11 - Chapter 4.2

2

It had been ages since Sakuta had ridden the Enoden, and it felt familiar—but also like he no longer belonged there.

He’d ridden this train on a daily basis all through high school.

Taken the slow rolling scenery for granted.

Got used to seeing the car thread its way through the houses.

The old-timey sounds of the cars, the rails, and the connectors rattling.

It had all been part of his routine.

And now it no longer was.

Since starting college, he’d barely even gone to the south side of Fujisawa Station, where the Enoden platform lay. He hadn’t even noticed that until today.

Both the restaurant and cram school were on the north end, and the grocery store and his apartment were, too. He never needed the other side.

For that reason, when they pulled out of Enoshima Station, his eyes were glued to the scenery. Even through Koshigoe, he was still gaping at the houses, walls, and trees that seemed ready to bang up against the sides of the car.

The scenery itself was so close you could almost reach out and touch it. He got worried again that they actually would bump something, but then the tracks hit Route 134, and the whole side of the train turned blue.

The sun was headed down the sky to the west, and it made the waters gleam.

The sky hung overhead, blue and white as far as the eye could see.

The horizon seemed to glow.

He’d seen this every day in high school.

Had gazed absently out the windows at it.

But that was no ordinary commute.

Now that he was in college, that fact was driven home.

 “Next stop, Shichirigahama.”

He hadn’t heard that female announcer’s voice in ages, either.

He disembarked on the tiny platform at Shichirigahama and found it so quiet it was like he’d been spit out into an empty world. The Enoden car itself had been full enough, but barely anyone else got off or on here. It was that time of day.

But it didn’t feel lonely. Quite the opposite. The moment he stepped off the train, the smell of the ocean wrapped him in its warm embrace. The memories came rushing into his nostrils, raced through his circulatory system, and filled him with the comfort of home. His very cells remembering what it had been like here.

He tapped his commuter pass on the reader at the gate and left the station.

Not long after, he saw his old school across a little bridge.

For three whole years, he’d gone to Minegahara High.

Everyone else from his train turned down the gentle slope to the ocean. Sakuta alone went the other way, up the hill and through the railroad crossing.

Beyond that lay the Minegahara school gates.

They were half-open, and Sakuta took a deep breath before stepping through.

He’d never stressed about it like this when he was a student here.

After graduating, he was an outsider.

And it was weird to walk around the grounds in street clothes.

Fortunately, it was a Sunday, and there were no signs of any students. There were probably people here for practice or clubs, but he reached the building without encountering any.

He swung by the office first.

He could hear sounds of ball dribbling on the basketball courts now. He knocked at the glass window, calling to see if anyone was there.

A woman came out to greet him.

“You’re the graduate who called ahead?”

“Yep. Sakuta Azusagawa.”

“Then just put your name here.”

He went to write his name and saw another on the ledger above.

 Ikumi Akagi.

The time written next to it was 3:40. Fifteen minutes ago. Today’s date.

“Oh, her? A college student, wanted to look around the building. Material for a college report.”

“Ah,” he said. He’d given a similar fake reason when securing permission to visit.

He wrote his name.

“Try not to take pictures that can identify any individuals, please.”

“Right.”

“And wear this while you’re here.”

She handed him a visitor’s lanyard.

“Bring that back when you’re done.”

“Got it.”

He hung the lanyard around his neck.

“Should be less than an hour,” he said, and with that, he headed upstairs.

The school interior on a weekend didn’t jog any memories.

The deserted silence won out, and the vibe was too different to take him back.

The only sound was his slippers padding up the stairs.

Sakuta took it one step at a time and was soon on the second floor.

The hall ran straight ahead. Nothing blocked his view. No one was around. White signs were near the ceiling, from Class 2-1 all the way to 2-9.

Nothing different. It had been less than a year since he’d graduated, so what even would change?

But he could feel it on his skin. He no longer belonged here.

It was very uncomfortable. He’d gotten permission but felt guilty anyway.

But he had bigger fish to fry. He hadn’t come here to explore his alma mater.

All classroom doors were closed.

But when he looked carefully, one was open a crack.

The rear door of Class 2-1.

Sakuta’s class, once.

He’d sat in there for a whole year.

He started walking toward the open door.

And went right on in.

“……”

He stopped just inside the door, spotting the person who had beat him there.

She was standing by the windows near the front row. Her street clothes looked out of place in the classroom. There was no mistaking her.

That was Ikumi.

She must have noticed his entrance.

With each step he took, the silly sound of his slippers echoed through the room.

Sakuta headed straight across the room from the back door and stopped at the windows over the coast. He undid the lock and opened the window. The chill ocean breeze brushed his cheeks.

That sensation sure took him back.

When he’d had the window seat, he’d spent a lot of time absently gazing out the window. Somehow he never grew tired of this view. The ocean was just compelling that way.

“You’ve always regretted it, Akagi.”

“……”

Ikumi said nothing, even when he spoke. Just kept staring at the sea.

“Baffling cuts and bruises all over Kaede, and I just wanted the teachers and my classmates to believe me, to do something to help us.”

Both knew the outcome. No one had believed his story. Neither staff nor students had extended a helping hand.

All they’d done was whisper “Azusagawa’s lost it!” or “He’s gone mad!” or bore into him with horrified stares.

“You regret not being able to help me.”

What had actually saved him were the fuzzy memories of a mysterious high school girl who appeared in his dreams. Memories of his first love, carved into his soul. Those had been his beacon.

“Not…quite,” Ikumi said as she turned his way.

“Oh?”

“I regret being unable to do anything when my friends came to me like, ‘Ikumi, do something about this grim mood!’”

“……”

“Even as a kid, people said I had my head on straight and could be relied on. Parents, teachers, friends. I felt like I could do anything.”

She’d definitely had her act together more than others her age. She’d had prior successes. Until that year, she’d lived up to people’s expectations. Ikumi had never faced a challenge she wasn’t a match for. She’d done the work and come through.

But that mess in junior high was too much for anyone.

Kaede’s bullying, Adolescence Syndrome, dissociative disorder—none of those were problems a single third-year junior high student was capable of solving.

Those weren’t burdens she should have been asked to bear.

But Ikumi wasn’t hiding behind that. She never had and still wasn’t.

“That tripped me up, and…I think I never really recovered from it. I still haven’t righted myself.”

That earnest streak had almost certainly caused her own Adolescence Syndrome. She was too forthright, too tenacious, too harsh on herself. That had become her.

“You lured me out here to take this trip down memory lane? With that fake post?”

“Glad nobody’s hurt?”

“Yeah. But make this the last one. I’ve missed the reunion now.”

Ikumi turned back to the water.

The clock on the wall showed four. The reunion party was starting. The organizers would be making speeches any minute.

“I thought you weren’t up for hearing the other girls brag about their boyfriends?”

“I was class rep. Figured I should do my part.”

Very her.

“But when you think about it, this is a class reunion. The classroom means a lot.”

“To you, Azusagawa.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

It was a clear message that wasn’t true for her.

But it was.

He knew that now.

He’d figured it out.

That’s why he’d chosen to have their talk here.

“And you, Akagi.”

“……”

That simple phrase made her eyes waver. She seemed lost in thought. Her gaze searched his face for answers. Whatever was going through her head, her lips parted slightly, but she said nothing. Like she feared anything she did say would play right into his hand.

Sakuta had been trying to fish the words out of her.

But if she didn’t take the bait, he had a backup plan. He would have to cut to the heart of things. Talk was free.

“You were part of this class, Akagi. In the other potential world.”

“……”

No response from her. She was just gazing at the expanse of water, blinking at a natural speed. Didn’t seem surprised. Didn’t laugh off his words, either.

At length, she inhaled.

“I remember this breeze,” she murmured, to no one in particular.

The ocean breeze played with Ikumi’s hair. She put up a hand to hold it still.

“The smell of the sea, the line of the horizon…”

Like her, Sakuta’s eyes were on the water. He could sense her standing next to him.

“It hasn’t changed at all. It seems so long ago.”

They’d graduated and were in college now. It was the two of them who’d changed. That’s why it felt like a memory. Even though it was just a year ago, the view of the sea, sky, and horizon had always been there. That routine now felt extraordinary.

And their lives here now a thing of the past.

“How’d you know?”

She was bathed in the light of the setting sun, and the wind caught her voice.

“Something felt off when we saw each other at the entrance ceremony.”

“……”

“You took the trouble to call out to me then, Akagi. But not a word since.”

And in hindsight, that was kinda odd.

“I admit—it didn’t really bug me until recent events.”

Sakuta had just shaken it off and gone about his new life. Wasn’t compelled to approach her himself and hadn’t needed to.

“But after Halloween?”

“Yep. That made me start to wonder about things.”

“Like…?”

“Why you and Kamisato are close.”

Two people he knew had connected when he wasn’t looking. Was that just a coincidence? That Ikumi/Saki pairing sure felt like more than that to him. They were a bit too tight to have first met in college.

“We were in the same class in high school the last two years.”

That was the other world. In this one, Ikumi had never gone to Minegahara High. They’d never once shared a class.

“When we first bumped into each other, I called her Saki, and she looked weirded out. My first big blunder since arriving here. I managed to play it off as mistaking her for a friend. And we did end up talking more.”

A smile passed across her lips.

“Then there’s the boyfriend thing. I didn’t think that was real, but he exists.”

“This Saki was all, “Ikumi, you have got to get at least one boy in your life.’”

The way she acted around guys did not seem like someone who had dating experience. At the very least, she didn’t seem like someone who’d lived with a boyfriend and looked after him.

“And there’s the poltergeist,” Sakuta said.

“……”

“Most people would freak out after running into the supernatural.”

But Ikumi had taken it in stride and hadn’t seemed remotely scared. Because she knew for a fact it was harmless.

“That’s sensory feedback from the Akagi who went to the other world?”

All those sensations were supposed to be in this world. That’s why they manifested themselves here, through the conduit of her body. Rio had backed that notion up.

“And the writing on your arm is from the other Akagi?”

That also explained how Ikumi was acting. It came from her. Another Ikumi, who hailed from a different potential world. That’s why she was fine with it. That’s why she’d laughed it off. It was all her.

“……”

She wasn’t shaking her head. Instead, she asked, “This is all pure conjecture?”

“The clincher was finding the graduation album.”

The final answer she was searching for. With this, everything added up.

“You said you threw it out.”

“And I did. But the movers found it and slipped it to my dad behind my back.”

Keeping that fact from Sakuta was just grown-ups being considerate. If he’d known, he definitely would’ve thrown it out again.

“Wish they hadn’t.”

She would. Being nice to one person might not be nice to someone else. This had helped Sakuta but was actively causing trouble for her.

“You mentioned what I wrote in my essay, right?”

“You want to reach a place of kindness.”

She threw the words up to the sky above.

“But I didn’t write that.”

At the time, he still hadn’t fully recovered memories of Shouko. He’d had dreams about a strange high school girl—but that was it. Dreams he could barely even remember.

The other Sakuta had likely remembered both Shouko and Makinohara sooner. While still in junior high. And that’s why he’d left their message behind in his graduation essay. He’d probably solved Kaede’s problems faster, too.

“I’m not as good at this stuff as that other Sakuta.”

That earned him a smile. It was also acknowledgment that he was right.

The two worlds were pretty similar, but they had their differences. For both Sakuta and Ikumi. They were the same people but not exactly alike. And those small differences had led to major discrepancies.

Like Sakuta being better at stuff and Ikumi going to Minegahara.

“Can’t believe you kept a straight face.”

The entrance ceremony had been ages back. Eight months ago. And Ikumi had been in this world the whole time. Still was.

“I’m a lot more comfortable on this side.”

“Even though I suck now?”

“Yes.”

He’d been half joking, but that nod was far more than half-serious.

“You read my graduation essay?” she asked.

“The one about growing up to help people?”

“I didn’t pull that off in the other world.”

“Too soon to give up.”

She’d barely started college. But if she was saying she hadn’t pulled it off, there must have been a reason for that. And the main reason there…

“I can’t compete with the better Sakuta,” she said.

“……”

“You didn’t let me do anything in junior high.”

“Then…”

“When the bullies came for your sister, you handled it all yourself.”

In that world, at least.

“High school didn’t slow you down. You saved Sakurajima, Koga, Futaba… All the problems I wanted to help with, you fixed them all alone.”

“……”

“Azusagawa, you were what I wanted to be.”

If his memories really had come back in junior high, then it made sense he’d have been so proactive it spooked her.

His time with Shouko had really done a number on his personality. It was the foundation of his being. It had made him grow up.

And it also meant he knew things about the future. Without that knowledge, Ikumi couldn’t compete. Sakuta had been cheating.

“Three whole years of high school, and I didn’t become anything. I just festered, envying you.”

“……”

“I even failed my college exams. I couldn’t even become a college student, much less someone who mattered. Nothing went right. I spent all my time wanting to escape, to be somewhere else.”

“And you wound up in this world?”

Ikumi nodded slowly.

“The first thing I knew, I was on campus…and saw you there.”

 “You are Azusagawa, right?”

 “Akagi?”

 “Yeah. Been a while.”

That was the moment. Nodoka and Uzuki had come up behind him, and they hadn’t spoken further.

“I thought I was dreaming.”

“Naturally.”

Sakuta had thought the same.

“But I wasn’t. I knew because I’d met you in my world.”

Her eyes were locked on his.

“……”

“You came to visit in winter of our second year.”

He had not expected her to realize that.

“You noticed?”

“I watched you pretty close.”

That was not a sweet sentiment. Just…forlorn.

“The next day, you didn’t remember what we’d talked about. I always thought that was weird.”

And coming to a new world herself resolved the doubt. And that realization had provided the impetus for her to accept the fact that she was in a new potential world. Perhaps that had led to her believing in Adolescence Syndrome.

“Well, sorry. That one’s all on me. Not the other Sakuta’s fault at all.”

“No, I’m actually grateful. It might well be I was only able to reach this world because of what you did.”

Honestly, he wasn’t sure if the two things were related. But it was possible his own visit had left a path between the worlds. To borrow Rio’s phrasing, Sakuta’s perceptions had locked the two worlds to their current forms.

“…You didn’t want to go back?”

“I didn’t, and I still don’t.”

No hesitation.

“……”

“Here, I’m a student at the college I wanted to go to. I’m the rep for a volunteer group. And…”

“The hero thing.”

Ikumi made a face. Like being in college meant they’d outgrown those ideas.

“In this world, I’m the person I wanted to be.”

So she didn’t want to go back. Didn’t need to go back. The occasional poltergeist attack wasn’t that big a deal.

The life she led in this world was just that fulfilling. She was the ideal she’d failed to become back where she came from.

She’d played the hero’s role to perfection. Even at the festival, she’d just been relieved to hear no one would actually be hurt.

Ikumi’s choices were consistent.

But not when it came to him. There, her actions didn’t add up. Still weren’t, right now.

“So why’d you make a bet with me?”

If she wanted to protect her new life, she should have just pushed him away. He was the only person capable of figuring out her lie. A fact so simple she had to know it.

“I thought I could actually beat you in this world.”

This, too, came straight from the heart.

“Then why did losing the bet come as a relief?” he asked, looking right at her.

At her unruffled expression.

“Because…”

Ikumi broke off. She was bad at lying, so no lies came to mind.

“……”

He waited awhile, but she said nothing else.

“You wanted someone to notice?”

“……”

She held his gaze.

“Someone to know you weren’t the real Ikumi Akagi.”

“…Why do you think that?”

A whisper, carried on the breeze.

Ikumi meant every word she’d said here today.

She liked being in this world.

Here, she was who she wanted to be.

Her life was fulfilling.

So she wanted to stay.

Not a word of that was false.

Had it not been Ikumi, that would have been the end of it. But unfortunately, she was Ikumi Akagi.

The same girl who’d written I want to be someone who helps others in her graduation essay. A lofty goal.

No way she didn’t have doubts.

“You’re too harsh on yourself to just run away.”

That was why she’d wanted someone to catch her cheating.

Even as she enjoyed her new life, part of her had always felt guilty for it.

Deep down, she’d known she couldn’t keep doing this.

The closer she got to her ideals, the more she enjoyed her life…the more that guilt ballooned within.

Honest to a fault, unable to live any other way.

That was who Ikumi Akagi was.

“So I guess that means…gotcha, Akagi.”

Ikumi had not taken her eyes off him once. She was still maintaining eye contact. Her eyes had grown moist, and when she blinked, tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I was always good at hide-and-seek,” she said, her voice choked up. “But I didn’t think I could hide here forever.”

She would feel that way.

“But nobody noticed. No one caught me. I started losing track of who I even was. I’m not even the Ikumi Akagi they think they know. Everyone just thinks I’m her. I’m not her, but it’s like it’s fine if I am.”

Most people wouldn’t figure that out. How could they? They might think something seemed off or ask what was wrong, but it wouldn’t provoke anything beyond an initial sense of concern. How would anyone guess you were actually from a different potential world?

If peaceful college life were interrupted by accusations like that, everyone would think the accuser was a total weirdo. Even if they were right. Common sense would support everyone else and make an enemy of the odd man out. The world would be against them. Lynched by an invisible force existing only in society as made by and for humans.

“If the replacement me will do, then who even am I? I’ve been wondering that all along.”

“Did this get you any closer?”

“No. Not at all.”

Ikumi’s eyes turned to him for help.

“Akagi, you want it all, and you want to handle it all yourself,” he said, eyes on the ocean.

“……”

“It’s almost funny how serious you are. Really helps pull off the nurse costume.”

Outside the window, the sun was setting. Disappearing behind Enoshima.

“That’s who you are.”

“That’s it?” she scoffed. “A few years from now, it won’t be a costume.”

“Then I’ll have to update it to ‘looks great in her uniform.’”

With the way she was bathed in the golden light, he could no longer see any tears.