2
“Azusagawa, finish bussing that and take your break.”
Sakuta was carrying an empty cast-iron plate and rice bowl, and the manager was busy disinfecting the table behind him.
The lunchtime rush was nearly over, and seats were emptying.
“Will do,” he said and took a step toward the back room.
“Oh, hold on…,” his manager said, and he pulled up short.
“Need something?”
“Can you work Christmas? Twenty-fourth, twenty-fifth, either one!”
“Sorry, already made plans.”
“Yeah, it is Christmas.”
“Sorry again.”
Sakuta bobbed his head, and this time he made his exit.
He left the dirty plates with the older lady on dishwashing duty, poured himself some tea from the staff pot, and stepped into the break room.
He put his cup down on the table. There was a sign taped to it that read CHRISTMAS BONUSES AVAILABLE! STAFF WANTED! Then in smaller writing, FREE CAKE! The manager’s desperation was palpable.
“It is Christmas,” he said, settling down on a folding chair.
What did the holidays have in store for him this year?
Until last night, he’d been looking forward to a blissful time with Mai.
But the dream he’d woken from this morning had completely dashed those hopes.
If that had been an ordinary dream, he’d have cheerily ignored it.
But since odds were high it was prophetic, he couldn’t.
He’d dreamed Sara would become his student, and she had…and this dream felt the same. He’d only worked out that it was a dream after waking up.
But if this new dream actually happened, it would be a whole mess.
First—Sakuta was supposed to spend the twenty-fourth with Mai. He’d just agreed to go to Hakone with her the night before.
So why would he end up spending time with Sara Himeji? His brand-new student?
And one thing she’d said stuck with him.
“You promised not to cure my Adolescence Syndrome.”
He couldn’t imagine why he’d agree to that. He certainly hadn’t made any such promises yet. But the line did tell him one thing—
—Sara had Adolescence Syndrome.
She herself had admitted it.
“Oh brother.”
The words slipped out of him.
“Senpai? What’s up?”
To his surprise, someone answered. Tomoe had just emerged from the girls’ locker room after changing into her waitress uniform.
“Had kind of a weird dream.”
“Oh? You too?” she asked, blinking.
“Then you had one, Koga?”
Tomoe glanced at the clock on the time card machine. It was only 2:55, so she sat down across the table from him.
“Not me. Nana.”
That would be her friend Nana Yoneyama.
“Said she had a super-realistic dream this morning.”
Tomoe put her phone down on the table.
“What about?”
“Uh…I guess you’re safe. I wanted to ask someone.”
She seemed to have solved her own dilemma.
“I told you how Nana met her boyfriend?”
“Classmate from junior high, was it?”
“Yeah, but here’s the thing…”
Tomoe trailed off, looking away uncomfortably.
“The thing?”
“The new dream was on Christmas Eve.”
“Uh-huh.”
Same day as his. Coincidence?
“And she and her boyfriend…were kissing.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Tomoe gave him the sort of look you reserved for criminals.
“Kissing how?”
“How?!”
“Was she into it, or was he forcing it on her?”
That would make all the difference.
“Nana instigated.”
“Good for her.”
“So she came to me, going, ‘What if this is a #dreaming thing and actually comes true—then what?’”
Tomoe clutched her phone as she squirmed.
“What do you think?”
“What’s wrong with kissing?”
“She’s an exam student! Is that allowed?”
Tomoe tapped her screen a few times, checking something. Probably scrolling through her chat history with Nana.
“I was making out with Mai all last year.”
“Nana isn’t like you.”
“If she feels guilty about it, then just make up for it by studying harder.”
In Sakuta’s case, Mai had largely browbeaten him into applying himself. Like a hundred sticks to every carrot.
“I figured.”
That had likely been Tomoe’s gut response, but she hadn’t wanted to give bad advice. She’d used Sakuta as a sanity check.
Her fingers were already tapping away.
“I’m guessing Yoneyama wants your approval.”
“Don’t spell it out, geez. Oh, she said, ‘Thanks, I’ll do that.’”
Did that mean study harder or go for the kiss? Probably both.
“People really buy into this hashtag thing, then?”
“I’m hearing more people talk about it at school.”
“Huh.”
That wasn’t really a problem for him right now. But word of it spreading felt instinctively like bad news. The more convincing the stories got, the more people believed them, the less likely it was to fade out like the supernatural fad of the day.
If anyone saw a bad future in their dreams, they’d try to change it.
Right now, worrying about that was probably going too far. Overthinking things.
“So? What’d you dream about, Senpai?”
“I’m too ashamed to share after Yoneyama’s slice of sweetness.”
If he said he’d been on a date with Sara, there was no telling how Tomoe would react. The only thing he knew for sure was that there’d be a stream of invectives.
“Like you’re even capable of shame.”
She was already heaping on the abuse. Tomoe’s eyes were back on the phone. A new message must have come in, because she was tapping away. Then she glanced up, giving him a dubious look.
“What did you do to Himeji?”
He hadn’t expected that name from her. And that was a hot potato for him today.
“Nothing, yet. She just joined my class at the cram school.”
This was true, so no reason to hide it. At the moment, they were nothing more than cram school teacher and student.
If that dream accurately predicted the future, then that might not last.
“Then why is she asking me for your contact info?”
Tomoe showed him her screen.
“Oh, ’cause I still haven’t told her I don’t own a phone.”
“Can I tell her you’re here working?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
With that, she turned her phone back around.
“When are you off?”
“Nine tonight.”
“She’s asking if you’ve got time after your shift.”
Before he could answer…
“She’ll be studying at the cram school till then,” Tomoe said, reading.
“Got it.”
Sakuta had business with Sara himself. About the dream and Adolescence Syndrome. Might as well take care of that today.
“‘I’ll be waiting for you, Teach!’ she says.”
Tomoe shot him a look, visibly displeased.
“What?”
“Nothing!”
She made that sound like it was totally something, but she got up to start her shift.
“Himeji’s just a real heartbreaker. Better watch yourself, Senpai.”
Tomoe was out the door before he could ask why.
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