Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 12 - Chapter 3.3

3

The next day was a Thursday, and Sakuta woke up to find it already raining.

All those bright, dry winter days meant the rain came as a boon. The temperature itself held steady, yet it felt warmer—the humidity at work, perhaps?

But once the rain stopped, temperatures would drop heading into the weekend. On TV, the weather girl was dressed for the season. “We’re in for some real winter chill!” she said.

“Christmas was really cold in that dream.”

It was too early for thoughts that gloomy. Sakuta left the house with his umbrella open.

Other than the rain, the morning commute was unremarkable. Fujisawa Station, the Tokaido Line interior, and the hubbub as he switched trains at Yokohama Station…all was the same as always.

No different from yesterday, the day before, or one week ago. The same streets, the same crowds.

The only real difference was on the Keikyu Line from Yokohama Station, where there was a notable lack of trains that played music as they pulled out. Encountering one of those had always made his day, and knowing they’d retired the last few from service was a real shame. One less thing to look forward to on the way to school.

It might seem like the world never changed, but it always was, bit by bit.

End-of-term classes were nearly all finished, and the ones that were left mainly focused on outlining the papers required to get credit or reviewing what would be covered in the tests they’d be taking early next year.

His first class was primary foreign language studies—English—and the test would involve written and listening components. Second period was core curriculum and required a paper. Third period was the core math required for his statistical science major, and it was obviously going to be a test. His fourth class involved computer data processing, and the teacher had an out-of-the-box assignment to create a home page.

When that class wrapped up, he heard friends talking all around. “What about this assignment?” “When do we start?” “It’s not due till next year! We got time!” Didn’t seem like anyone planned to tackle it immediately. Chattering away, the classroom emptied out.

In the hall, he could hear the subject already drifting away. “I’m starving! Let’s eat!” “I’m broke!”

Sakuta alone stayed at his desk, searching for #dreaming posts involving Mai Sakurajima.

If anyone had a dream about something bad happening to her, he might learn the truth behind that ominous message.

Mai’s fame made this approach possible.

But like his previous attempts, he found no relevant messages online.

He tried searching for Touko Kirishima next.

If he could glean any more intel there, maybe he’d figure out why he was supposed to find her.

But once again, he found nothing that seemed connected.

Just off-base speculation claiming Mai Sakurajima was Touko Kirishima.

 Their singing voices sound alike!

 She hummed on that one TV show, you could tell!

 I hear they’re going public soon!

All of them were trying to sound legit, but they were just talking out their asses.

Mai was obviously not Touko.

Sakuta knew that for a fact.

But plenty of people seemed to buy into the rumors.

Perhaps Sakuta only felt this way because he knew them both personally. If he weren’t that involved, then why doubt the rumors? Maybe he’d have just gone, “Oh yeah?” If people didn’t really care if it was true or not, these reactions made sense.

That was how baseless speculation spread like wildfire.

“Whatcha looking at, Azusagawa?”

The voice from the seat next to him was from Takumi, who’d stuck around without a word.

“A headache.”

It was hard to explain the whole thing, so he just answered evasively.

“That sounds like one!”

Takumi just laughed, not pursuing it further.

“What about you, Fukuyama?”

Takumi’s eyes were on his screen, and he looked unusually absorbed. Sakuta had been wondering why.

“At the school festival, they did that beauty contest, picking a Mr. and Miss Campus?”

“So I heard.”

That had been in early November, nearly a month ago now.

Sakuta hadn’t checked out the contest himself, but Nodoka and Sweet Bullet had been invited as presenters and had handed the trophies to the winners.

“And this site lists past winners.”

“Checking to see which one was cutest?”

A very guy thing to do. He could just picture a group gathering around going, “Oh, I like her.” “Nah, man, this one’s way better.”

“I meant to, but there’s no profile listed for last year’s girl. Just the mister!”

“The site made a mistake?”

“With the miss contest?”

“……”

“Look, that one’s on you.”

“……”

“The silent treatment?!”

Ignoring him, Sakuta reached for his mouse and went back to the Touko Kirishima search results. But the table quivered; Takumi’s phone was resting on it, and the vibrations were making it slide.

He glanced that way, saw the screen, and recognized the name.

Ryouhei Kodani, a second-year international business major they’d met at the mixer.

“Yeah, what up?” Takumi asked, answering.

“Had a dropout on a mixer today. You in, Fukuyama?”

The phone’s volume was loud enough that Sakuta could hear every word.

“You know I am!”

Not a second’s thought.

“Yeah? Cool, I’ll send the deets over.”

“Can’t wait!”

After that brief exchange, Takumi hung up. He jumped to his feet, put his coat on, and shouldered his backpack.

“I’m outta here!”

He threw up a hand and headed to the door.

“Your computer’s still on!” Sakuta said.

“Kill it for me!”

The answer came from the hall.

He’d run off without even hearing who else was in this mixer, so Sakuta said a prayer for his well-being and grabbed the mouse to shut down Takumi’s computer.

But his hand stopped there, not moving another millimeter.

His eyes were glued to the screen.

To the female winner of last year’s beauty contest.

Takumi had said she had no profile, but it was there, all right.

Takumi just couldn’t see it.

He hadn’t been able to perceive it.

Long, well-maintained black hair.

Clean white blouse.

A slightly embarrassed smile directed at the camera from a face he knew.

The miniskirt Santa spotted on campus.

Touko Kirishima herself.

He read the rest of the profile.

And didn’t recognize the name at the top.

“Nene Iwamizawa?”

In other words, Touko Kirishima was a stage name.

She’d been a sophomore last year, so if she’d finished the year out, she should currently be a junior. If she’d gotten into college on her first try, she was two years older than him.

Her major was international liberal arts, just like Mai and Nodoka.

She hailed from Hokkaido, her birthday was March 30, and she was five foot three

That’s all the profile told him.

This chance encounter sure gave him a rush. Like he’d witnessed a spectacle firsthand, it left his heart racing. But the more he thought about it, all he’d learned was her real name, major, school year, place of birth, date of birth, and height.

It was all surface details. Nothing that got to Touko’s essence.

But perhaps this would lead him to that.

Hoping as much, he typed “Nene Iwamizawa” into his keyboard and clicked the search button.