Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 5 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Living a Dream You can’t wake up From

1 

It all started two years ago. 

“We believe Kaede Azusagawa’s symptoms are a form of dissociative disorder.” 

The diagnosing psychiatrist was a woman in her midforties. Sakuta was there with his parents when she offered up this unfamiliar term. 

“Dissociative?” his father asked. 

“Yes. A dissociative disorder,” the psychiatrist said, writing the word on a nearby notepad. 

“Huh…” 

“Ordinarily, we define ‘ourselves’ as an amalgam of our sensations, consciousness, and memories, right?” 

“……” 

His parents nodded silently. Sakuta said nothing, waiting for her to continue. 

“Dissociative disorders refer to cases where that identity is lost. In other words, one or more parts of that identity—your perceptions, consciousness, or memories—no longer feel like they belong to you.” 

“…Okay,” his father said. It was only for the sake of saying something, anything. 

“Common symptoms include losing sensations in part of your body or feeling like the events unfolding in front of you are from a movie or TV show. Likewise, there are patients who suffer loss of memory. Like Kaede does.” 

She paused to allow them to digest this. 

“It’s difficult to pinpoint the exact cause, but dissociative disorders are often the result of extreme stress or psychological trauma. In other words, they’re the result of a burden that’s too great for the patient to bear.” 

“……” 

None of them were capable of responding. 

“Kaede had difficulty fitting in at school and has a history of self-harm, right?” 

This was totally wrong, but Sakuta didn’t try to correct her. He knew nobody would believe the truth. 

“And she’s refused to go to school since.” 

“Yes.” 

“It would be premature to identify that as the sole cause, but it’s likely that those struggles put a lot of pressure on Kaede, to the point where she was no longer able to process the feelings inside her. Her suffering grew so extreme it was crushing her…and to escape that, she cut out the unpleasant parts of herself.” 

“…And that’s the dissociation?” 

“Yes. Kaede felt like she was falling apart, and this is how she protected herself.” 

“……” 

This wasn’t something they could just accept. 

“I’m sure this all comes as a huge shock. But cases like this are not that unusual.” 

“So, then…Kaede is…?” 

His father was looking for a solution. A way to understand what had happened to his daughter. Sitting next to him, Sakuta sympathized. 

“The severity of these disorders varies for each individual. Based on what you and Kaede have told me today, what I can say now is that she seems to have lost all memories of herself, her family, her friends, and the people around her. As well as her location—she was not sure what city or prefecture she was in.” 

“S-so…Kaede is sick?” his mother asked. This question seemed out of place, but Sakuta had been wondering the same thing. Was this a disease? 

It was nothing like what he thought of as “sick.” No fevers, coughs, or runny noses. 

It was more like the “amnesia” he’d seen on TV. 

He’d never imagined something like that happening so close to home. He’d never even thought amnesia was actually real. In his mind, it was something that only existed in fiction. A fake disease invented to make stories more dramatic. 

That made this meeting feel like a scene from a TV show. He was really impressed that this psychiatrist was getting through this exposition dump without stumbling over her words. 

“It is a mental illness.” 

“Mental…?” his mother echoed, looking lost. 

“Yes. As I’ve explained, Kaede has no memories of the time she’s spent with the three of you. She has no access to the memories that allow her to identify you as her family. This may be difficult to understand at first, but memories are a major pool of information that form the foundation of a personality. With those memories lost, Kaede is still Kaede, but she may not be the Kaede you know. For her sake, you need to come to terms with that.” 

No matter how many times she said it, it just sounded crazy. For a lady in a white lab coat to be saying something like this with such a serious look on her face almost made him want to laugh out loud. But this was no laughing matter. 

And he couldn’t dismiss it as a lie. 

When Kaede had woken up that morning, she’d forgotten everything. 

She looked right at Sakuta and said, “Wh-who are you?” 

Looking very scared. 

And it wasn’t just Sakuta. She’d done the same thing to their parents. 

“What happened to me?” she’d asked. 

She clearly hadn’t been herself. There was no doubt about that. 

“I’m sure this will be very disruptive for you, but if she is to heal, Kaede will need your help. She needs you to understand her condition and support her. We believe having somewhere safe to stay is vital to recovering lost memories.” 

All three of them nodded. What choice did they have? 

“Understand and support.” That was all there was to it. But they would soon learn that there was nothing harder. 

Their memories of what she’d been like before kept getting in the way. 

Sakuta and his parents remembered the old Kaede. Memories of his sister, of their daughter. Thirteen years’ worth. 

At first, it was difficult to even find the right distance. They knew on some level that she didn’t remember them, but the expectations they had, based on how she used to be, showed on their faces. All without them being aware of it 

Once, Sakuta came to see her, and he brought a book with him. A novel by one of Kaede’s favorite authors. He’d seen a new release by her in the bookstore and had spent basically all the money in his wallet to buy it. For a junior high school student, 1,600 yen was a lot of money. 

But he didn’t hesitate. He was sure it would make her happy. 

When he handed her the book, though, she seemed surprised. 

“Th-thanks,” she said awkwardly. 

The way she looked at him made it clear she was afraid this was the wrong response. 

“…Um, do I like this book?” she asked, hesitant to even do so. 

It was painfully clear that the memories that defined her for him were not present. This wasn’t the Kaede he remembered. Not the sister he knew. She looked the same, but it wasn’t her. 

And these discrepancies only grew in depth and number the more time he spent with the new Kaede. 

She didn’t talk the same way. She held chopsticks differently. She’d been left-handed, but now she was using her right without any problems. She ate her food in a different order. She buttoned her pajamas from the top now. Her laugh was different. She wasn’t Kaede. It was all wrong, wrong, wrong… 

In a matter of days, he’d noticed more than thirty differences, big ones and small ones. He’d noticed more than that but stopped counting. 

It felt like continuing would drive him mad. 

The differences between Kaede now and his memories of her gave him a profound sense of loss. It had taken several days for him to finally grasp that the Kaede he knew no longer existed. 

And that opened a hole in his chest. An empty void. A hollow. Nothing there but the aching grief from losing something precious. An awful feeling rested in the pit of his stomach. A cloud hovered over him. Within him. 

And it was on one of those days that three jagged claw marks appeared on his chest. 

He was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, covered in blood. 

He still didn’t know why. But he was stuck in the hospital until he couldn’t bear it any longer, at which point he sneaked out of his room. 

He didn’t have anywhere to go. 

But he couldn’t sit still any longer. 

He’d been unable to help Kaede when her state of mind deteriorated so much that she’d disassociated. All he wanted was to get away from that regret. The regret chased after him, so he went as far as he could. 

And he wound up on the beach at Shichirigahama. 

He hadn’t even left the prefecture. This was somewhere he could go any time he felt like it. 

But it was also a place he’d never have gone if he hadn’t been running. 

And there, Sakuta met her. 

Shouko Makinohara. 

A second-year high school girl. 

To a third-year junior high boy, she’d seemed so grown-up. Beautiful black hair. The short skirt of her uniform. A face somewhere between “cute” and “pretty.’” Very expressive, with a smile that was easy to like. 

Shouko ran into Sakuta on the beach and decided to talk to him. He brushed her off, but she didn’t give up. She listened to what he said when no one else had. She believed him. 

Sakuta was past caring about the moment, the future, or the world at large, but she told him something very important. 

 “You see, Sakuta. I think living makes us kinder.” 

Her words sank into the hollow left by his helplessness. They seeped into it like a sponge absorbing water. 

 “Each day, I try to be just a little nicer than I was the day before.” 

This was an ideal he’d never thought of. 

Sakuta had no clue what life was for, and all he’d learned in school was a canned answer, that “life” was about deciding what you wanted to be when you grew up. 

About your dreams for the future. 

He’d spent his adolescence with teachers and grown-ups telling him life was about finding that dream and making it happen. 

Brainwashed into thinking that was what decided whether a life was worthwhile. 

And he was in his last year of junior high, so his teachers were demanding he pick a high school—a simplified version of the same thing. If he scowled at his results and chose a school within his passing range, they’d nod, but if he selected something more ambitious “for his dream,” they’d tell him to be more practical and pick a backup school. 

Choices like that was all life meant to Sakuta. 

But living to be nicer. 

Nobody had told him he could do that. 

The tears came streaming out because he’d felt Shouko’s kindness. He knew she’d forgiven him for failing to do enough. He’d felt that…and she’d told him that he could be kinder in the future. 

That was why he’d felt like it was safe to cry. And why he couldn’t stop the tears. 

On the way back from the beach that day, Sakuta bought a notebook and a pen. Cute ones, like girls used. He picked a thick notebook, one you could write a lot in. 

Then he went straight to Kaede’s hospital room. 

“Kaede, I bought these for you,” he said, handing the bag to her. 

“What are they…?” she asked, searching his face for the right answer. Trying to read his mood. Trying to guess how “Kaede” would react while peering into the empty box of memories. 

“Go on—open it.” 

“……” 

She did as she was told. 

And pulled out the thick notebook and a pen. 

“Um…?” She was clearly confused. Even more lost now. 

“The doctor said it might help to write. Doesn’t matter what. Anything that happened, anything you were thinking about, in your own words.” 

Questions she had, things that made her anxious. By putting that down in words, it would help the new Kaede define herself. 

“O-oh. Okay.” 

She didn’t seem convinced. She’d lost so many memories, she had no basis to decide what was convincing. The notebook would help fill that gap. 

“First, your name.” 

“Okay.” 

Kaede pulled the table across the bed and put the notebook on it. There was a space for her name on the cover, and she slowly started writing. Holding the pen all wrong. In her right hand. 

“Oh, wait,” he said, after she’d written the kanji for Azusagawa. 

“Yes?” She looked up, blinking at him. 

“About your given name.” 

“Don’t worry, I know the kanji. Ka is flower, and Ede is maple, right?” 

Sakuta shook his head. 

“……?” She looked even more confused. 

“Let’s make it Kaede in hiragana,” he said. 

“Hiragana?” 

“You aren’t that Kaede, after all.” 

“……!” 

Her eyes widened in surprise. Then the tears came welling up. Big droplets rolled down her cheeks, onto the notebook, blurring the kanji for Azusagawa. 

“……” 

Her lips quivered. Trying to say something. But she couldn’t find the words. 

“Sorry it took me so long,” Sakuta said. “I knew better, but…I still didn’t get it.” 

She let out a moan. More tears fell. Her moan turned into a sob. 

It was like all the anxious feelings she’d been bottling up came pouring out of her. An explosion of emotion. 

Since she first woke up as the new Kaede, she’d been on edge. Unsure who she could rely on, who she could trust. 

She’d been all alone with her fears. 

She cried like a lost child reunited with her parents at last. 

And once she’d finished crying, she wrote Kaede in big round hiragana on the notebook cover. 

She stared proudly down at the name for a while. It seemed like she’d never get tired of it. 

“Sakuta…” 

“Mm?” 

“You’re my brother, right?” 

“I am.” 

That was the first time he saw the new Kaede smile. It felt like it’d been a long time since he’d seen his sister’s smile. 

He hoped the days to come would be good days for her. He hoped she’d be able to smile like this all the time. 

But reality was never that simple. 

Sometimes all you needed was a chance, and everything would just work out. There were also plenty of times things didn’t go that way. Kaede’s situation was undoubtedly the latter. 

No matter how you looked at it, there was nothing easy about losing thirteen years of memories and becoming a totally different person. 

After a month in the hospital, Kaede was allowed to go home. 

It was fall. The maple leaves she was named after were turning red. 

From that day forward, she was recuperating at home. 

She may not have required hospitalization any longer, but that didn’t mean she was able to return to a normal life. She didn’t remember the roads around their house at all, so if she went outside, there was a chance she’d get lost. She didn’t even remember the layout of their house. 

It would be a long time before she was ready to go back to school. 

Her classmates all knew the old Kaede. She looked the same, but it was a different Kaede inside. And it wasn’t hard to imagine what effect that perception gap would have on her. For her to go to school, they’d need everyone there to understand what had happened to her. But Sakuta was convinced there was no way they could convince the classmates who’d been complicit in her bullying one way or another to grasp something this elusive. 

Sakuta’s own family was already struggling to understand her dissociative disorder. They were blindly feeling their way, stumbling through it with trial and error. 

Moreover, a superficial understanding would just lead to mockery and ridicule. 

So once she left the hospital, Kaede spent nearly all her time at home. At first, she struggled to accept her own room, since she didn’t even remember it, but as the days passed, she grew more comfortable with it. 

Her expression brightened, and she smiled more. When Sakuta got home from school, she nearly always came out to meet him. And she saw him off in the mornings, too. 

But the situation was always gnawing away at Kaede’s heart. 

Sakuta had school every day. Their father had work. But their mother was a housewife, and she was the one Kaede spent the most time with. 

The more they spoke and interacted, the more reasons there were to talk about the old Kaede. The house was full of things the old Kaede had used, not to mention family photographs. 

“Returning to the family home, to a place she should know well—this can stimulate the lost memories. If she feels safe there, the dissociative symptoms might abate, leading to the return of her memories. Naturally, you might not see immediate results, but I think recovering at home is best for her right now.” 

That was the advice the doctor had given them. 

“Keeping her at the hospital is less than ideal, so let’s take it one day at a time.” 

Their mother was simply following that advice. She meant no harm by telling the new Kaede about the old one. Besides, if the old Kaede’s memories returned and she “got better,” then her actions were totally justified. 

But that didn’t mean it was good for the present Kaede. 

Every time her mother said, “Just take your time,” a cloud passed over her face. 

“Don’t force yourself” made her look deeply sorry. 

“Don’t worry—Mommy’s here for you,” their mother said, taking her hand. But Kaede had no idea how to respond to that. Her eyes always looked lost. 

Nobody wanted this new Kaede. Her parents and the doctors all looked at the new Kaede and only saw the old one. That was how it must have felt to her. Sakuta got that vibe from the grown-ups around them, too. And he hated it. 

Of course he wanted Kaede’s memories to return. He wanted the old Kaede back, too. But what would happen to the new one, then? 

The more time they spent together, the more that thought preyed on his mind. 

His sister’s dissociative disorder had come out of nowhere. But what would happen if it went away? Even without asking the doctors, he could imagine. 

A month after she started recuperating at home, Kaede’s struggles surfaced. 

When she came to meet him at the door after school, he noticed bruises on her body. 

The pale skin on her arms and legs was marred by purple marks. Ugly splotches. Her body creaked—an awful sound to hear. It was just like what she’d suffered when she was being bullied. 

But why? 

Thinking about the cause got him nowhere. He didn’t know why Adolescence Syndrome happened. People dismissed those phenomena as fiction to begin with—at least, nobody around Sakuta believed a word of it. 

Maybe the cause was the hardships and anxiety Kaede felt about her new life. Maybe this was a response from the old Kaede’s mind, buried deep within the new one. 

“Mom, help…,” he yelled, kicking his shoes off. He took Kaede to his mother in the living room. “The bruises are back!” 

He showed her arms to their mother. 

But she just smiled. “I see,” she said. And she kept happily folding laundry by the sunlit windows. They were packed away neatly. 

Only then did Sakuta realize their mother was completely out of touch with reality. 

“Don’t worry, Kaede. You’ll be fine,” she said. Her gentle smile horribly out of place. 

How long had it been like this? Maybe from the very start. Their mother had never seen the new Kaede. She’d only ever had eyes for the old one. 

And when their mother turned her warm smile toward Kaede, his sister shivered and hid behind him. Her fingers tightened on the sleeve of his uniform. He saw a new bruise forming on her hand. Wrapping around her wrist like a snake, coiling all the way to her elbow. 

This was definitely the same thing that had happened to the old Kaede. 

The doctors who examined Kaede immediately suspected that their mother was abusing her. Sakuta was sure they never doubted it. 

The proof of that was how they ignored everything her children said. Sakuta was a child. Kaede had dissociative disorder. No matter how much they insisted no abuse was happening, the doctors didn’t believe a word of it. 

“You’ll be okay,” they said, never questioning their assumptions. Their misplaced goodwill landed Kaede back in the hospital. 

Once there, she refused to leave her hospital room. She was terrified of the looks she got, frightened of nearly everything. 

“I’m scared of the looks in their eyes. Everyone sees the old Kaede.” 

“Don’t worry. I see you.” 

“You’re the only one. You’re the only one who knows me.” 

As winter arrived, Sakuta decided to talk to their father. 

He was planning to leave town with Kaede and live somewhere away from their parents. 

His father didn’t argue. He must have known that would be better for their mother, too. Maybe he’d been considering similar solutions. But as their father, he’d been unable to propose it himself. 

“Sorry, Sakuta.” 

“There’s something you told me when I was a kid…” 

“Mm?” 

“You said, ‘You’re a big brother now.’” 

“I remember.” 

“I couldn’t do anything to help the old Kaede.” 

“……” 

“But this time…” 

He couldn’t finish that thought out loud. 

“Look after her,” their father said. 

“You take care of Mom, Dad.” 

“I will.” 

And then Sakuta and Kaede left Yokohama, moving southwest to Fujisawa. There, they started a new life as brother and sister, with only the cat, Nasuno, for company. In a new town where nobody knew the old Kaede. 

And there they still were. 

2 

When Sakuta finished explaining all this, Mai, Nodoka, and Kotomi were left at a loss for words. 

He didn’t blame them. If he’d been the one listening, he’d have had trouble keeping his jaw shut, too. 

There was no way they could have known. Mai and Nodoka only knew this Kaede. They had no reason to suspect she’d lost any memories. And Kotomi had only ever met the old Kaede, so how would she have known about the new one? 

There was a long silence. 

Mai was the first to speak. 

“Kaede, you look exhausted. I think we should stop here for today.” 

Her first thought was to check on Kaede. She needed rest, and they needed time to process this. 

Kotomi seemed to have taken the news hard. Her face was ashen. 

So nobody argued with Mai’s proposal. 

Kotomi didn’t seem like she was moving anytime soon, so Sakuta left her to Mai and Nodoka. 

“We’ll take her to the station,” Mai said. “Sakuta, you go hail a cab.” 

He wasn’t about to turn that offer down here. 

He flagged a passing taxi and took Kaede home. 

The next morning, Sakuta was woken by a cat licking his face. 

“What is it, Nasuno? Morning already?” 

“Mrow.” 

When Sakuta failed to get up, she started pawing his bed head with her front paws. Classic cat punch. 

This was obnoxious, so he got up. He yawned and stretched. 

He glanced at the clock. It was half past seven. Kaede usually woke him up by now. 

“A lot happened yesterday…” 

He went to her room to check on her. 

He opened the door without knocking and found her in bed. Facedown. But she wasn’t asleep. She was trying to get up, but her arms and legs wouldn’t stop shaking. 

“Morning, Kaede.” 

“M-morning, Sakuta…” 

“Are you pretending to be a newborn fawn?” 

She was doing an excellent imitation. Even if she was dressed as a panda. 

“I might be doomed! Every part of me hurts!” 

“That’s muscle pain for ya.” 

She’d gotten too excited at the beach and frolicked like crazy. Her body simply couldn’t keep up. All the muscles she usually never used were screaming at her. 

“At this rate, I can’t come wake you up or see you off at the door! That would be tragic! Owww…” 

Her dejection was visible through the pain. She gave up and collapsed on her bed. He put a hand on her forehead, just to be sure. 

Didn’t seem like she had a fever. He didn’t need to worry. 

Then a second later he saw a bruise on the back of her neck. He pulled her pajamas aside and saw that it ran all the way down her back. 

“S-Sakuta! You know I can’t move, and you’re taking advantage of me!” 

“I’m just taking your pajamas off.” 

“Th-that’s the problem! You should be doing that with Mai!” 

“I would if I could.” 

“Then I’ll ask her to let you!” 

“Don’t worry. I’ll do that myself.” 

Who knew how she’d punish him if his sister asked her for something like that? 

“Today you’d better get some rest.” 

He put her pajamas back in order. That bruise was probably caused by suddenly running into Kotomi. Or maybe because he’d told Mai and Nodoka about her memories. Either way, he’d have to watch her closely for a while. 

“That’s really all I can do,” she wailed. 

This was an accurate analysis. So he decided he didn’t need to be too worried about her. 

“I’d better get to school,” he said. 

He left her room. He was still worried, but he thought it best to act like everything was normal. He didn’t want her worrying because he was behaving differently. 

“Have fun!” she called. 

Seeing Sakuta go about his day like usual would make it easier for Kaede to do the same. 

When he glanced through the classroom windows at the Shichirigahama beach, it looked different from the day before. 

Perhaps it was the weather, perhaps it was the temperature, or maybe…it was just Sakuta’s mood. 

“This’ll be on the exam!” the math teacher said, drawing a red circle around the sample derivative problem on the blackboard. Midterms had only just ended, but apparently it was already time to worry about finals. 

The entire class was making faces, but everyone made sure to write it down. No matter how disgruntled you might be, succeeding in high school meant it was important to heed a teacher’s friendly warnings. 

The math teacher picked his watch up from the podium and strapped it back on his wrist. He glanced down at it, checking the display—just as the bell rang. 

It was time for lunch, and the noise levels rose sharply. A number of students were out the doors at once. Running to get in line for the bakery truck. 

Normally, Sakuta would be forcing himself to his feet to join them, but today he’d been taking notes seriously and was still finishing up. 

He’d promised to go to the same college as Mai, which meant he had to study properly. 

When he was finally done with his notes, he found a silence had settled over the room. 

Something going on? 

He heard footsteps coming his way. Familiar footsteps. They sounded confident. The sound alone was elegant. 

And they stopped next to Sakuta. A shadow fell over him. 

He closed his notebook and looked up to find Mai standing next to his desk. 

She had a small paper bag in her hands. 

All the students left in the room were staring at the two of them. The world’s oddest couple—an actress so famous she was a household name, and a boy destined to never fit in after rumors of the hospitalization incident went around. Everyone was curious. But nobody was being obvious about it. They were all pretending not to care. Apparently, the school had collectively decided being interested in their relationship wasn’t cool. It was an unspoken rule, one nobody in particular had invented but everyone had to obey. Read the room or face the consequences. 

When Sakuta’s eyes met Mai’s, she said, “I made lunch.” Loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“……” 

This was delightful news. But he had not been warned in advance that she would be making it. And Mai almost never entered the second-year class, so he was somewhat taken aback. 

“Come on,” she said, not offering him a choice. 

Mai went out in the hall. He quickly stood up to follow her. 

Leaving his notes and textbook behind. 

Mai led him to an empty classroom on the third floor. 

There were two desks by the windows, facing the ocean. The two of them sat down side by side, as if they had counter seats with an ocean view. The Shichirigahama beach lay before them, Enoshima on the right. 

“Here,” Mai said, handing him one of two lunch boxes. There were sandwiches inside. Lettuce and tomato, eggs and avocado, bright and healthy looking. And he was sure they’d taste great, too. 

“Thanks,” he said as he took a bite. 

Mai ate in silence. She washed it all down with a gulp from a box of vending-machine milk tea. Not a word passed between them. 

Not until Sakuta reached for his second sandwich. 

“I thought it was strange,” she said. 

This gambit did not surprise him. He didn’t ask what. The events of the day before made it perfectly obvious why she’d brought him here. 

This was about Kaede’s memories. 

“When did you notice?” he asked. 

He’d figured she’d pick up on it eventually as they got to know each other. Thirteen years of missing memories would come up in conversation eventually. 

“The first time I set foot in your house.” 

“That fast?” 

That was a surprise. If she’d known Kaede before her memory loss, sure, but Mai had only ever met this Kaede. 

“Well, she didn’t know who I was.” 

Mai said that like it was totally expected and logical. 

“Oh…” 

Sakuta had to admit it was a convincing argument. 

“You tried to cover by saying she didn’t watch much TV, but I still thought it was weird.” 

This was a reason that would only apply to someone as famous as Mai Sakurajima. 

It made perfect sense. Anyone from Sakuta and Kaede’s generation would know who Mai was. She was one of those celebrities who everyone could match the name with the face. Mai had lived like that her whole life. It made total sense Kaede’s reaction would seem weird to her. 

“And the way you two act around each other.” 

“……” 

“It’s not quite how brothers and sisters usually act.” 

“I can’t hide anything from you.” 

“Nodoka’s been saying you two are pretty weird, too.” 

“She has?” 

“Kaede is remarkably reverent when she talks with you, which is glaringly obvious, but you also seem like you’re always holding something back whenever you’re around her.” 

She said this like it was Nodoka’s opinion, but Mai must’ve picked up on it, too. 

“Yeah, fair enough.” 

Mai was right about all of it. He did hold back a bit. Kaede was his sister, but no longer the sister he’d known. And the more he treated her like a sister, the more conscious he became of the fact that he wasn’t dealing with the old Kaede. It was only natural that he wouldn’t be able to act as naturally as he used to. 

“You said you were in your last year of junior high when it all happened? It would be like suddenly getting a new sister, two years younger than you. It would be weirder if you could act normal.” 

Mai took a sip from the straw in her milk tea. She’d kept her eyes on the ocean this whole time, and he couldn’t read any emotion from her profile. 

“Uh, Mai…sorry I didn’t tell you.” 

“It’s okay. You did it for her, right?” 

“Yeah, but still…” 

It wasn’t something easily said. It was too significant. It was the sort of information that would change how people treated her. He couldn’t ask them to pretend like they didn’t know, and knowing would make it hard to know how to behave around her. An accomplished performer like Mai might be able to act her way past that, but he didn’t want to make her do that. 

And since Mai and Nodoka only knew the new Kaede, he wanted them to always treat her like that—because that was who she was. 

“The more I watched Kaede adjust to being around you, the more I didn’t want to say anything. The more she started to open up to you, the more I thought, ‘It’s better this way.’” 

“I get it. I’m not mad.” 

She glanced sideways. Her eyes were smiling, like he had nothing to worry about. 

“I’m pleased to be dating someone so understanding,” he said, relieved. He reached for the sandwiches, going for an egg one next. 

“There’s mustard in that,” she said, just as he touched it. 

What horrifying news. 

“Huh?” 

What did that mean? Why would you put mustard on a sandwich for a boyfriend? 

Mai gave him a pleasant look. When he started to draw his hand back, she said, “You’re not going to eat it?” with a smile. 

“So you are mad?” 

“I’m not mad.” 

Then why was she forcing him to eat mustard? 

“You won’t eat the food I made?” 

That was a mean way to put it. He had to eat it now. 

Sakuta steeled himself and picked up the mustard sandwich. He brought it to his lips. The powerful stench hit him before he could even taste it. 

He glanced over at Mai. She looked adorable but was definitely watching his every move. 

He had no choice. He took a bite. 

“……Mm?” 

Just as he thought it might not be so bad, a horrifying shock ran down his throat and up his nose. 

“……!!” 

Tears welled up. He couldn’t very well spit out something Mai made, though, so he swallowed through his tears. 

“Here,” Mai said as she handed him his tea. Sounding worried, she added, “You okay?” 

She was the one who’d gotten him in this predicament, but she sure wasn’t acting like it. Her performance was very convincing. 

Just to be sure, he inspected the other sandwiches. The ham sandwich looked safe, but the green one was suspicious. That was supposedly avocado. Had she secretly applied wasabi to that green squishy mass? 

“That green isn’t wasabi, is it?” 

“Weird how well avocado and wasabi go together, isn’t it?” 

As if that combination was normal. 

“I’m sorry. Forgive me.” 

“I’m not mad, and I forgive you.” 

“Aww.” 

How could she even say that? 

“But I am mildly vexed.” 

“So you’re not forgiving me.” 

“Have you told anyone about Kaede?” she asked. 

“……” 

“Did you tell Shouko?” 

He attempted to remain silent, but the follow-up question made that impossible. He wasn’t wriggling out of this one. She’d blocked every route of escape. 

“Are you jealous, Mai?” 

She stretched out those beautiful legs clad in black tights right before she ground her heel into his foot. Hard. Clearly a warning not to say the wrong thing. 

“Um, I did tell Shouko. And Futaba.” 

“Hmm. So I’m third,” she muttered, like this was all terribly dull. She picked up the avocado sandwich. 

Was she going to eat that herself? 

“Sakuta.” 

“What?” 

“Say ‘Ahh!’” 

“A mature woman wouldn’t care about something as trivial as the order, right?” 

“Sakuta. ‘Ahh!’” 

Running completely counter to the tone here, Mai was blushing slightly. Like she was bashfully force-feeding him this sandwich. He knew she was acting, but it was, well, super cute. 

That meant no matter what was in that sandwich, he had to open his mouth. Male instincts took over. 

“Ah…mmph!” 

She shoved the avocado sandwich in. He braced himself for the blow to come, knowing it was futile. 

“……” 

But strangely, the attack never came. There was just a pleasant hint of wasabi, leaving plenty of room to enjoy the avocado. It was really good. 

“H-huh?” 

“I would never ruin perfectly good food,” Mai said, looking appalled. 

What had happened with the mustard sandwich, then? On second thought, he decided bringing that up would not end well, so he choked the words down. 

“Let me be very clear—Mai, you are the first girl I’ve ever dated and will always be my number one.” 

“I’m not worried about that.” 

“I figured.” 

Sakuta turned his eyes to the water. What was life anyway? He was in the mood to ponder that again. 

“That’s enough penance.” 

“Was that what this was?” 

The mustard had been powerful, but come to think of it, he’d also gotten her to feed him, so it was a net benefit overall. He vaguely regretted not savoring the “Say ‘Ahh!’” scenario more. He’d been too terrified of the wasabi and wasted a perfect moment… Such a shame. 

“After you took Kaede home, I talked to her a little.” 

“To Kano?” 

Mai nodded. 

“She asked about the current Kaede.” 

“Mm.” 

She’d obviously be curious. How had Kaede changed? Kotomi was the opposite of Mai and Nodoka, and she only knew the old Kaede. 

“I said she was super shy at first but always very earnest and devoted to her brother… Was that the right thing to say?” 

“Yeah, no need to hide anything.” 

And Mai had assumed as much, which was why she’d answered Kotomi’s questions. 

“And then she left this with me.” 

Mai pulled a book out of the bag she’d had their lunches in. A hardcover novel. The Prince Gave Me a Poisoned Apple. 

“She said she’d borrowed it from Kaede. And brought it with her, intending to read it on the beach.” 

Mai glanced down at the cover. 

“What do you think?” she asked. “If you’d rather I hang on to it, I can.” 

“No, it’s okay.” 

If this was Kotomi’s answer, Sakuta was honor bound to accept it. 

It took courage to give up. This was a decision worth respecting. Sometimes giving up was harder than pressing on. And that was why he felt he should take the book. 

“Thanks, Mai.” 

“For what?” 

“All the things you’ve had to think about.” 

“No problem. Anything I can do to help you, Sakuta.” 

“……” 

“Why do you look surprised?” 

“I was just stunned by how cute you are today.” 

He absolutely meant this, but Mai merely laughed and called him an idiot. 

“That’s just my default,” she said nonchalantly, even though it was clear she was thoroughly satisfied. 

This was probably the cutest she’d been all day. 

3 

After school that day, Mai and Sakuta went as far as Fujisawa Station together but split up at the end of the connecting passage—by the JR gates. 

Filming was underway for the new Mai Sakurajima movie—the one she’d been promoting during the press conference where she’d addressed the rumors about their relationship. 

“Aww, are you gonna be too busy to spend time with me again?” 

“We’re starting with all the indoor stuff on the soundstages, so I’ll be home on time every day.” 

But that implied she wouldn’t be showing up at school. 

“Mm? You don’t film the scenes in order?” 

“Almost never. Even scenes set within the same town might be filmed at locations scattered across the country.” 

And unnecessarily bouncing back and forth between far-flung sets was a waste of time and money. 

“I’ve even filmed the opening scene on the final day of a shoot.” 

“But even so, you can still keep your performance consistent, huh?” 

Pro acting sounded hard. 

“I’ve gotta go,” she said. “Let me know if anything else happens.” 

“I’ll call you even if nothing does.” 

“I meant with Kaede.” 

“I know.” 

“I’ll call you if nothing happens, too.” 

She winked at him and vanished through the gates. Headed into the city on the Shonan–Shinjuku Line. 

Sakuta headed home alone. He stopped at a convenience store to pick up some pudding. A present for Kaede, who was likely still suffering from muscle pains. The good-pudding brand had a new product, with a NEW, BETTER TASTING label on it, so he bought that. 

“I’m back,” he called, taking his shoes off. 

Kaede normally came out to meet him, but today there was no response. Was her muscle pain so bad she couldn’t move? It seemed likely. 

He stowed the pudding in the fridge, dropped his bag on the dining room table, and took off his uniform jacket, then hung it on the back of a chair. 

Before heading for his own room, he stopped at Kaede’s door. 

“Kaede, I’m hooome.” 

“A-augh! W-welcome back!” 

She sounded flustered but in good spirits. Figuring he should take a look at her to be sure, he said, “Coming in,” and opened the door. 

“W-wait!” she said, a second too late. 

The door was already wide open. 

He’d just assumed she’d still be stuck in bed, but the bed was empty. She was standing by the closet. 

“……” 

But not just standing. She was frozen in an awkward pose. 

“I-I’m busy changing here,” she explained. 

“I can see that.” 

It was pretty unmissable. 

She had on a dark-red skirt. The one from her junior high school uniform. She’d been busy putting on a vest, the type you pull over your head—and her head was still stuck inside it. Both arms raised, frozen above her—no, they were shaking a little. Her aching muscles were making it hard to move. 

This was painful to look at, so Sakuta helped her pull the vest all the way on. 

“O-ow! That hurts!” she protested—but she was clearly enjoying herself. It was like how you try not to laugh when someone tickles you. 

“Then stay in bed like I said. Why are you up and about?” 

“I wanted to put the uniform on.” 

“I gathered as much.” 

It was clearly her junior high uniform. The winter version. Her panda pajamas were tossed on the bed, abandoned. Like a cicada shell or a snake’s shed skin. 

“At first, it hurt every time I tried to move.” 

“Yeah, you couldn’t even sit up this morning.” 

“But I slowly started to enjoy the pain.” 

“I know you can just laugh off muscle pain, but hearing you take pleasure in the sensation makes me very worried about your future.” 

“Here I was able to go all the way to the beach yesterday! I don’t want a little muscle pain to get in the way right when things are going so well. I decided I wanted to go outside again today.” 

She said all this with the same intonation a politician would use while reciting a manifesto in the public square. 

“You mean that?” 

“I do!” 

She hadn’t even been able to get changed on her own. 

“And in uniform?” 

“The uniform part is important!” 

How could he dissuade her? 

“I bought pudding,” he said, trying a light jab. 

“Yay!” 

She was hooked instantly. Now he was worried about her future for a very different reason. 

“Ugh, owww…” 

She’d tried to throw her arms up in celebration, but they were still quivering. And the pain reminded her of what really mattered. 

“Don’t try to distract me!” she said with a pout. 

“Don’t worry,” he said. “The outside isn’t going anywhere.” 

“……” 

She did not seem to believe this. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’ll be okay?” 

Kaede was clearly battling her fears here. Her eyes were wavering. The roots of this anxiety ran deep. 

“You’ll be just fine.” 

He patted her head gently. 

“But I didn’t know the girl at the beach yesterday.” 

The use of the conjunction was a bit odd, but he felt like he knew what she was trying to say. 

“……” 

“She was friends with the old Kaede?” 

“Yeah.” 

No point hiding it. 

“Her name is Kotomi Kano. If you want to know more about her, I can fill you in.” 

“I…” 

Kaede hung her head. 

“I’m not very good with people who knew her well.” 

She sat down on the side of her bed, staring at her fingers. 

“Same goes for me,” Sakuta said. 

“Huh?” 

“Frankly, it’s exhausting.” 

“…Is Kotomi a good person?” 

“You’ll have to make up your own mind, there.” 

“I’m not very good with people who knew the old Kaede well,” she said. It sounded like she meant something different by it this time. “But…I’m also afraid of not knowing.” 

She looked at Sakuta, her mind made up. 

“We met Kano before Kaede was even in kindergarten,” he explained. “She lived in the same apartment building as we did, on the floor above us. Kaede and I lived on the third floor, and Kano on the fourth.” 

“……” 

“When Kaede was little, they played together all the time. Since before they could even say each other’s names. Kano called her Kae, and Kaede called her Komi.” 

Even after they entered school and got better at speaking, those names stuck. In grade school, it was still “Kae” and “Komi.” 

“And she came looking for Kaede?” 

“Sounds like yesterday was a total coincidence.” 

From what Mai had said, she’d just come to see the beach. He had no reason to doubt that. There was no way she could have ever known they’d be there. It was nothing but a fluke. 

Kaede’s desire to go out and Kotomi’s urge to wallow in sentiment had just happened to cross paths there at the beach. Plus, Kotomi had looked genuinely surprised to see them. 

“About a month ago, something happened that let Kano figure out where I go to school. She showed up at the gates.” 

“To see you?” 

Sakuta shook his head. 

“She came to return a book she borrowed from Kaede.” 

“What book?” 

“I’ve got it with me. You want to see?” 

“……” 

Kaede thought about that one for a while. Then she looked up at her shelves. 

“Can I?” she asked. 

“Sure.” 

Sakuta stepped out of the room and grabbed his bag from the dining room table. 

Back in her room, he took the book out. He could feel the tension in his hands. 

“Here,” he said, holding it out to her. 

A hardcover novel. The Prince Gave Me a Poisoned Apple. 

Kaede’s hand slowly reached out and took it. When she saw the cover, she got up and went over to her shelves. 

Her eyes were scanning the second shelf from the top. The left side of that shelf had a bunch of books by the same author. The first one was Cinderella’s Sunday; the second was The Naked Prince and the Grumpy Witch. There were two more novels also written by the same Kanna Yuigahama. Four in all. 

The one on the left was her debut novel, and they were lined up in order of publication. 

“I thought it was weird I was missing one.” 

Poisoned Apple had come out between Cinderella and The Naked Prince. She’d even left enough space on the shelf for it. 

Kaede put the book where it belonged. 

But as she did, something fell out from between the pages. 

“…What’s this?” 

She picked it up. It was a Western-style envelope. A cute one, with a panda on it. 

No name or address. 

“Should I open it?” 

Sakuta saw no reason to say no. 

“Why not.” 

Frowning, Kaede opened the unsealed envelope. 

There was a card inside—maybe half the size of a postcard. 

Sakuta leaned in to look. There were a few words written on it. 

I’d like to be your friend again, Kae. 

There were obvious signs the note had been erased and rewritten a number of times. Like she’d struggled to find the right words, wrote something down at last, only to decide it wasn’t quite right, and start all over again. 

He figured the message was originally for the old Kaede. This wasn’t something she could have prepared between finding out about the loss of memory the day before and handing the book to Mai. 

Kaede and Kotomi had been placed in different classes in junior high, and they’d drifted apart. That was why she used the word again. And after all the bullying, she must have felt like there was a need to start over. 

But the recipient of this message was the new Kaede, not the one she’d known. 

When she gave Mai the book, she’d known it would find its way to the new Kaede. She’d given it to her with that in mind. And Kotomi had chosen to leave the note inside. 

I’d like to be your friend again, Kae. 

This message was for the new Kaede now. 

She wanted to be friends again. 

Even after hearing all of that and learning about the new Kaede, she’d found the courage to take this step. Giving Mai the book had not been a sign she’d given up. 

Maybe this was all caused by her guilt over not being able to help the old Kaede. Maybe it was just a gesture to try to make up for the past. Sakuta didn’t see a problem with that. It was much more believable than good for goodness’ sake. 

“……” 

Kaede held the little card in both hands, staring at it, reading the message again and again. 

“My friend…,” she said at last. 

A tear rolled down her cheek. She started crying, but only from one eye. 

“Kaede?” 

Kaede looked up, surprised. The tears were still flowing. Silently rolling down her cheek. But only from her left eye. 

Her lips trembled. Quivering, she said, “Komi…,” just like she used to. 

In that brief moment, he saw the old Kaede. Sakuta’s heart skipped a beat, sounding a cry of alarm. A shiver started in his feet and shot through his body. 

But he wasn’t even given a second to think about it. 

“Kaede, did you…?” he began… 

…and then all the strength drained out of her. 

The card fell from her fingers, and she swayed. Then she crumpled, like her soul had left her body. 

He reached out and caught her in his arms. He wound up crouching under her but managed to avoid falling over. 

“Hey, Kaede?!” 

“……” 

No response. 

“Kaede!” 

She was totally limp, like an empty husk. Sakuta was left calling her name in vain. 

4 

He could hear sirens. 

An ambulance was hurrying somewhere. 

He waited for it to pass by, but it never did. The earsplitting sound was following Sakuta. 

This made sense. Sakuta was in the ambulance it was coming from. 

“Pulse is stable. Breathing regular, no external injuries. Patient is unconscious.” 

The EMT was briefing the hospital reception. He sounded baffled. 

There was no clear cause for her condition. And that was worrying. 

“Preexisting conditions?” 

“……” 

“She’s your sister?” 

The intense gaze made him realize they were talking to him. 

“Not sure if it’s related or qualifies, but…” 

He paused a moment, worried about whether they’d understand him or not. 

“Spit it out,” the EMT said grimly. Any information would do. 

“She has a dissociative disorder.” 

The EMT’s brow furrowed. Probably not a term he heard a lot, and it took him a moment to process. 

“Got it,” he said and started relaying that to the hospital. 

Kaede was taken to the same hospital they’d taken Sakuta to when he’d collapsed with heatstroke. 

She was carried on a stretcher from the ambulance to a hospital room, escorted by the EMT and the hospital staff. 

There was no sign of Kaede coming around. It looked for all the world like she was just asleep. 

Her vitals were stable. 

But that was the real concern. A number of imposing-looking medical devices were wheeled in and out to examine her…but no clear results reached Sakuta’s ear. 

Everyone involved appeared to be at a loss. Lots of folded arms and tilted heads. 

After the initial flurry of examinations, Kaede was placed in an empty private room. She lay in bed as Sakuta stood by, helpless to do anything but watch. 

Her breathing was regular. He could see her chest rising and falling. 

To an amateur eye, she appeared to be sleeping normally. 

He stepped out of the hospital room briefly to use the public phone to contact his father. Bad timing—he was in Osaka on business. But when Sakuta told him what had happened, he promised to take the first Shinkansen he could book a ticket for. 

He was probably on board one now. 

Sakuta hesitated for a minute, then called Mai, too. She must’ve been filming, because it went straight to voice mail. He explained that Kaede had suddenly collapsed, and he left the name of the hospital. 

That was two or three hours ago. 

The sound of it ticking pulled his eyes toward the clock on the side table. It was just past ten thirty PM. 

Well after lights-out. There were no sounds in the hall outside. The hush of the hospital whispered in his anxious ears. 

“Just…shut up,” he muttered, to no one in particular. Or maybe it was a threat directed at the shapeless fears swirling around his head. 

There was a knock at the door shortly after. 

“Yes?” he said. 

It slid open. 

Mai stepped in. Nodoka was with her. They must have rushed over. Mai was still wearing her full filming makeup, and Nodoka had no makeup on at all—which was rare. 

They moved quietly across the room. The door slid closed without a sound. 

“How is she?” Mai asked, looking down at the bed. 

“Still hasn’t woken up.” 

“Oh…” 

Mai took Kaede’s hand. Nodoka leaned close, peering at her face. 

“Right, Sakuta, here.” 

Mai handed him a convenience store bag. It had onigiri and tea inside. 

“You haven’t eaten, right?” 

“Thanks.” 

“You might want to go get a change of clothes.” 

Kaede was still wearing her junior high uniform. 

“Nodoka and I’ll watch her if you want to run home.” 

She glanced him over. He was still in uniform. 

“Actually, uh…could I ask you to go?” he asked, pulling out his key. “I want to be here if she wakes up.” 

“Got it.” 

Mai took the key from him. She glanced at Nodoka and they left together. 

About an hour later, there was another knock. He thought Mai was back, but it wasn’t her. 

He opened the door and found his father and a psychiatrist. A slim man his father’s age, midforties. 

His father glanced briefly at Kaede’s bed, then back at Sakuta. 

“You mind?” he said. 

He didn’t step inside. Even with her asleep, he didn’t want to burden Kaede. 

“Something we can’t discuss in here?” 

“……” 

Silence signaled agreement. 

“Okay.” 

He stood up and followed them into the hall. 

Closing the door behind him. 

As they trailed after the doctor, Sakuta asked, “When did you get here?” 

“About half an hour ago,” his father said, glancing at his watch. 

“I see.” 

“When I asked for her room number, they brought me to the psychiatrist first.” 

He could tell from his father’s profile it hadn’t been an enjoyable experience. 

“In here.” 

He was led down the row of rooms to a corner of the nurses’ station. It was like a mini-exam room. 

Sakuta and his father were waved to a pair of chairs. 

“What I’m about to discuss are merely possibilities. Bear that in mind,” the doctor said, looking Sakuta right in the eye. 

“Given Kaede’s condition, I figured that would be the case.” 

The doctor nodded. “Honestly, until she regains consciousness, there’s not much we can say for sure.” 

“Right.” 

“But it’s our job to prepare for what ‘might’ happen when she does wake up and help her family be ready for that. This is why we’re discussing potential outcomes.” 

The doctor was choosing his words so carefully it was starting to get annoying. 

Sakuta glanced at his father, who was listening with his eyes closed. 

“When patients with memory loss fall unconscious, as Kaede has, they often wake up to discover some form of change where those memories are concerned.” 

“…You mean?” 

That could be interpreted in a lot of different ways. 

“You mean she might get her memories back?” he asked, going right for it. 

The doctor neither nodded nor shook his head. 

“That is merely one possibility.” 

“What are the others?” 

“It could be she’ll have lost the memories she currently has.” 

“……” 

That had not occurred to him. But Kaede had already lost her memories once before. It wasn’t unreasonable to think that might happen a second time. 

“Of course, it’s more than possible she’ll wake up in the same condition she was before passing out.” 

“What do you think is most likely?” 

“At this stage, we simply cannot know. I’m sorry…” 

“Okay…” 

“I realize this is frightening, but for Kaede’s sake, you need to be ready when she wakes up and take her condition in stride no matter what it may be.” 

“……” 

Sakuta didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to respond at all. 

Instead… 

“We understand,” his father said, bowing his head. “Please do what you can for her.” 

The doctor nodded and stood up. He walked away, leaving father and son behind. 

“You all right, Sakuta?” 

“I know I’m not, which is good.” 

“I see.” 

“I’m not gonna make myself ready or take anything in stride.” 

When Kaede woke up, she might no longer be the new Kaede. There was no way to prepare for the grief that would bring. 

Perhaps she’d wake up to find she had the old Kaede’s memories back. But trying to prepare himself for the joy that would bring seemed utterly pointless. 

Both Kaedes mattered to him. They were both his little sister. 

He couldn’t brace himself against any of the potential outcomes. 

He couldn’t pick a side. 

He simply had to accept whatever happened as it happened. 

When she woke up, he’d be delighted if he felt like it, and he’d cry his eyes out if he felt like doing that. What else could he do? 

“Yeah. Fair enough.” Sakuta’s father nodded. “Fair enough.”