Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 5 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Dawn of an Endless Night

1 

It was a long night. 

The lights were out, and the hospital room dark. 

The moonlight streaming through the gap in the curtains cast long shadows. 

Shadows of the bed’s legs. 

Shadows of the curtains themselves. 

A shadow of an empty flower vase. 

And Sakuta’s shadow, sitting on a stool. His shadow fell on Kaede where she slept. 

She looked so peaceful like this. As if there was nothing wrong. He felt like if he shook her shoulders, she’d blearily go, “What is iiit?” 

But Kaede wasn’t waking up. 

When Mai and Nodoka got back, a nurse helped change her clothes, but this failed to rouse her at all. She’d made no sounds at all. Not so much as a single groan. 

A sleeping beauty they could not awaken. 

A silly princess with a poison apple lodged in her throat. 

“Nah, Kaede’s not really the ‘princess’ type.” 

It was three AM when these words slipped out. His voice sounded hoarse. Mai and Nodoka had left at midnight, and his father had left as well, staying at Sakuta’s apartment. 

That was the last time he’d spoken. Nearly three hours earlier. 

Kaede’s chest rose and fell. Proof she was still breathing. 

She looked as if she might wake at any moment and also as if she might go on sleeping forever. Maybe it looked like both were true because Sakuta had lost sight of which he wanted to happen. 

People saw things the way they wanted to see them. 

The doctor had said there was a chance she’d wake up and have the old Kaede’s memories back. 

Sakuta figured that meant she’d be the old Kaede again. Memories and experiences are a big part of what forms a person’s personality. If those memories came back, what would happen to the new Kaede? The Kaede he’d lived with the last two years? 

“……” 

He did want her to wake up. But at the same time, thinking about what that might mean was upsetting. He found it hard to look forward to it without reservation. 

He’d lived with the old Kaede for thirteen years, and he wanted her back. That was what his parents wanted, and he shared those feelings. 

But the time he spent with the new Kaede was his life now. She was a part of him, too. 

If he could only have one of them, how could he possibly choose? 

It was impossible to pick. 

And even if he made a choice, reality might not follow suit. It was pointless to even think about. 

There was only one thing Sakuta could do. 

Act like her big brother whether she woke up as old Kaede, present Kaede, or some totally new Kaede. That was his job. 

No matter what happened, that was his only option. And since that was set in stone, he simply had to be ready. 

At long last, the sky in the east lightened. The dawn of a new day. 

Over the next half hour, the room grew steadily brighter. The staff had started their morning rounds; he could hear footsteps coming and going in the hall outside. 

It was almost seven now. 

Kaede would usually be in Sakuta’s room by now, trying to wake him up. But if he didn’t wake up, she’d dive into bed with him. And promptly fall asleep with her arms wrapped around him. 

The morning sunlight reached Kaede’s face. 

He’d been watching the sunbeam as it moved steadily toward her. And when it finally reached her…things began to change. 

“Mm…” 

Kaede made a noise in her sleep. 

“!” 

Sakuta leaned forward. He meant to call her name, but no sound came out. Instead, he drew a sharp breath inward. 

“Mm…” 

Kaede let out another muffled groan. 

“…Kaede?” 

This time his voice worked. 

“Kaede?” he said again. 

His heart was racing so loud, he wasn’t sure his voice had been audible. 

There was a rushing sound in his head, like a sandstorm. An alarm was ringing, like the one at a railroad crossing. 

“Mm. Mm…” 

Kaede’s eyes fluttered open. 

Which one was it? He couldn’t tell. 

“Hmm…?” 

Kaede rubbed her eyes blearily. 

“Ugh, my arm,” she muttered. 

Still suffering from muscle pains? 

“……” 

Kaede blinked at him several times. Then she sat up and saw him sitting on a stool nearby. 

“Sakuta?” 

“Yeah. I’m right here…” 

Was it the new Kaede or the old one? She knew his name, at least. Didn’t seem like she’d lost all her memories again. 

“H-huh?” 

Kaede finally noticed something was wrong and looked around. 

“O-oh no! Where are all my things? No, wait… Wh-where am I? I… I remember changing into my uniform, and then you got home, and… Augh! I’m in my pajamas!” 

She quickly pulled the hood of her panda pajamas up. 

“You collapsed in your room and were brought to the hospital in an ambulance,” Sakuta said. A wave of relief washed over him. 

“Did you change my clothes?!” she asked, clutching her pajama buttons and looking up at him through her lashes. 

“Nope, don’t worry. The nurse, Mai, and Toyohama took care of that.” 

“I wouldn’t mind if you had!” 

He pretended not to hear this. 

High school brothers did not help third-year junior high school sisters change. 

But that was a very new Kaede thing to say. 

“You are Kaede, right?” He was already certain but had to ask anyway. 

“Who else would I be?” she said, looking baffled. 

“Good. Glad to hear it.” 

At the very least, it seemed the new Kaede’s memories hadn’t gone anywhere. If a third Kaede had shown up, he would definitely not be feeling relieved. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” 

“You’re not sick or anything. I don’t think.” 

It was tough to explain. Not just for Sakuta—even doctors who’d had to study all kinds of difficult subjects to get their license were struggling with the specifics here. 

“Are you feeling all right? Is your head spinning at all?” 

“……” 

Kaede held up a hand, then raised it toward the ceiling. She moved her head around a little. 

“I’m fine,” she said. 

“Remember anything new?” 

“…Not particularly.” 

“Okay. Well, let’s get the doctor to take a look at you.” 

Sakuta pressed the nurse call button by her pillow. 

Frowning, Kaede leaned toward him. 

“…Sakuta.” 

“Mm?” 

“I think I had a dream.” 

“What kind?” 

“I was little and learning to ride a bike.” 

“……” 

“And you were little…and Dad was there.” 

“Oh.” 

She’d have been four or five. These were the old Kaede’s memories. Why would this Kaede be dreaming of those? 

“Dad held on to the back of the bike until I could ride.” 

He’d actually let go somewhere along the way, but Kaede didn’t know that. 

“Kaede, do you think you’re up for talking about this with the doctor?” 

Her hands clutched his sleeve. 

She looked up at him, searching for answers. 

“I’ll be with you, of course.” 

“I think I can.” 

She seemed very nervous. This was one of new Kaede’s expressions. She was very shy, after all. 

There was a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” Sakuta said. 

“How can I help, Mr. Azusagawa?” the nurse asked, poking her head in. She was in her late twenties and was the same nurse who’d helped change Kaede’s clothes. 

She glanced toward the bed and saw Kaede sitting up. 

“I’ll get the doctor,” she said before closing the door. 

After that, they spent most of the day running tests and having different specialists examine her. The neurologist and psychiatrist took the most time. 

The latter talked to her for an especially long time. It was all about what happened right before she passed out and checking if there were any changes in her memories since waking up. He kept it light, like they were just making conversation. They spoke for nearly an hour—sometimes it felt like he was running down a checklist of standard questions. 

At first, Kaede was sort of hiding behind Sakuta, but by the time it ended, she was looking the doctor in the eye. 

But she still clutched him tight during the other examinations, so he ended up skipping school. Not notifying anyone there would be a headache later, so he had their father call in for him. 

Their father had stopped by the hospital once after hearing Kaede had woken up. But he didn’t come see her. He just listened to the results of the examinations so far and then went to work. He didn’t want to stress Kaede out needlessly. Even though he must have wanted to see her… 

After talking to his father, Sakuta called Mai, letting her know Kaede was awake again. 

“And it’s the same Kaede?” Mai asked. 

He’d shared the different potential outcomes with her the night before. She knew this Kaede well enough that he thought she should be prepared if something happened. 

After that, it was time for the next exam, so Sakuta wound up waiting until lunchtime to give Yuuma Kunimi a call. 

He’d remembered he had a shift at work that day. 

“Sakuta?” Yuuma said the moment he answered. 

“What are you, psychic?” 

“You’re the only person who calls from pay phones,” Yuuma chuckled. “And I heard you were out of school today.” 

“From who?” 

“Well, Kamisato.” 

“Why does your girlfriend know I’m absent?” 

“She’s in your class.” 

Yuuma laughed out loud. 

“Why would anyone bother noticing?” 

“You clearly don’t have any idea how much you stand out.” 

Saki Kamisato stood out much more than he did. She was the ruler of all the girls in class. Sakuta led a quiet, unobtrusive life and could hardly compete with her. He hoped. 

“So, what?” 

“Can you take over my shift today?” 

“You sick? You don’t sound sick.” 

“Nah, it’s Kaede related. We’re at the hospital.” 

“Oh, I see. Fine. Just buy me lunch sometime.” 

“Will a dinner roll do?” 

“You mean the plain ones that are always left over?” 

The bakery truck’s least popular item. But because nobody bought them, people desperate for any form of lunch were still able to eat. 

“Exaaactly,” Sakuta said. “Thanks, though. It’s a big help.” 

“Sure thing.” 

Sakuta hung up. It was nice to have friends who’d bail you out in a pinch. Made all the difference. 

“Maybe I’ll make it two rolls.” 

After the hospital examination tour concluded, Sakuta and Kaede returned to her hospital room and found the sun already hanging low in the west. 

“Whew,” Kaede said as she plopped down on the bed. Sakuta let out a weary sigh himself. 

He’d just been along for the ride, but it had taken a lot out of him, too. 

Being in this huge hospital, surrounded by strange grown-ups, definitely brought out Kaede’s shy side. That meant he couldn’t leave her alone. She’d clung to him koala-style through most of the testing. 

The one time she had voluntarily distanced herself was when they weighed her. 

“You can’t watch this!” 

“I’m not gonna be upset even if you’re way over a hundred and ten pounds.” 

“N-no little sister is that heavy! It’s the law of the universe!” 

“Nah, at your height, it’s more than possible.” 

He glanced at the nurse for help, but she kept her expression neutral. Girls backed each other up, apparently. 

“A sister should weigh no more than three watermelons!” 

“That seems plenty heavy.” 

Ultimately, Kaede’s exact weight remained a secret for him. He didn’t actually care, so that was fine, but… 

Including such basic physical checkups, Kaede went through a battery of tests and examinations. The end result of all that? Apparently, there was absolutely nothing wrong with her. 

The only thing that could even remotely be considered an issue was the lingering muscle pain. 

In other words, she was physically healthy. 

But looked at another way, that meant they didn’t know for sure why she’d collapsed. 

“We’ll monitor her condition for a day, and then she can go home tomorrow,” the doctor explained. 

But Sakuta found it hard to feel relieved. 

In fact, the doctor had a pretty hefty follow-up to that statement. 

“The tests we ran didn’t find anything out of the ordinary physically. But dissociative disorders rarely affect the results of these kinds of tests. I think it’s best the family keeps a close eye on her for the time being. It’s a reasonable assumption that this loss of consciousness is a sign Kaede’s memories are returning. And there is a possibility that those memories returning fully will lead to a loss of the memories she’s made in the meantime. Try to take the situation in stride, as a family.” 

And that had planted a seed of doubt in Sakuta’s mind. 

No, that seed had probably been lying in wait for the last two years, too. Ever since they moved to Fujisawa and he started living with the new Kaede, he’d known this moment might one day come. 

But it had taken so long and so much time had passed without incident that he’d begun to think maybe they’d stay like this forever. It was a natural process. 

He had no real basis for this belief, but the time spent undisturbed had made him feel secure. 

But the passage of still more time had brought the harsh reality to bear. The seed lodged in his heart had finally decided to emerge from that soil. 

Perhaps Sakuta’s efforts to help her had caused this bud to grow. 

“I believe the safety provided by her current environment has eased the symptoms of Kaede’s dissociative disorder. The best thing you can do is keep going exactly as you have been,” the doctor said. 

What was right? What was wrong? 

There was no real answer. 

There was just the simple truth that he was here with Kaede. 

And Kaede had been officially given a clean bill of health. She was doing great. 

On the day of her discharge, Sakuta left school and found Kaede waiting for him impatiently. 

He left all the paperwork up to their father—who’d taken the day off—and was here to take Kaede home. 

Most of the trip was in a cab the hospital had called for them. But Kaede said she wanted to walk a bit, so they had it stop at the park near their apartment. 

The western sun was bathing the road from the station. 

They walked into the park, and Kaede sat down on a bench. 

With winter fast approaching, the trees in the park were losing their autumn-colored leaves. 

“Dad came?” Kaede asked. 

“Mm?” 

“To the hospital.” 

She had her hands on her knees and was locking and unlocking her fingers uneasily. 

“Yeah, he was there.” 

“……” 

“He was worried about you.” 

“……” 

Kaede just stared at her fingers, saying nothing. Not sure how to respond. Maybe she was thinking about the old Kaede. 

“Kaede.” 

“Yes?” 

“What do you want to do now?” 

“……” 

She looked up at him, surprised. Sakuta turned his eyes to the sky, fleeing her gaze. The sky in the east was growing dark. Evening on its way. The west was still red. The way the red faded into the blue of the night was beautiful. Was there a word for the color in between? 

“To celebrate getting out,” he said. 

“I want some pudding!” 

“We can do something bigger than that.” 

“A bigger pudding?!” 

“Okay, I see we’re locked on pudding. But I meant, like, go see the pandas, or…” 

“Oh, that kind of bigger.” 

She pursed her lips, considering it. Ten full seconds passed with no further response. Instead, they heard voices at the edge of the park. 

Kaede’s shoulders shook, and she moved closer to Sakuta. Even as she hid herself, she looked toward the street at the park entrance. 

There were three girls in junior high uniforms. The same uniform as the school Kaede was supposed to be attending. 

They were walking along, eating steamed buns. 

“Can I have a bite of that?” 

“Trade you?” 

“Ugh, don’t get greedy!” 

“It was just one bite!” 

“Get fat.” 

“So mean!” 

They were laughing happily. They were soon out of sight, but their voices could still be heard for a minute longer. 

Kaede finally peeled off Sakuta when they were out of earshot. 

“Pandas are second,” she whispered. 

A very serious look had appeared on her face. 

“And first?” 

“I want to go to school.” 

When she said this, Sakuta felt it was unexpected. 

But when he looked deep into her eyes, he realized it shouldn’t have been. He’d known all along that Kaede’s biggest, hardest, and most yearned for goal was going to school. 

School wasn’t anything special for Sakuta. It didn’t matter to him. Classes were boring, exams were a pain, and paying attention to everyone’s mood to preserve relationships was absolutely exhausting. 

But it was part of his life and the way it should be. Classes weren’t unbearably boring. Exams were only for a few days. He didn’t have many friends, but he had good times with them, enough that these friendships felt worth maintaining. 

That was what going to school meant. Sometimes you and your friends could go shopping or grab a bite to eat afterward. That sort of ordinary pleasure was what Kaede craved. She just wanted what was normal, to be normal. To rid herself of the anxiety that came with failing to be normal. 

“All right.” 

“Sakuta?” 

“Let’s do whatever it takes to get you to school.” 

Kaede took a deep breath, mulling over his words. Then she smiled. 

“Yes!” she said. “I’m gonna make it happen!” 

2 

That evening, after Kaede was in bed, Sakuta called their father. 

 “I want to go to school.” 

He was taking steps to fulfill that earnest desire. This was the first step. 

It wasn’t easy to come back from an absence as long as hers. Kaede’s feelings and readiness were important, but they also needed help from her school. If they couldn’t understand what her dissociative disorder meant, they’d never get anywhere. 

“Something happen?” their father asked, already worried. 

“Kaede says she wants to go to school.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’d like to help make that possible.” 

If they weren’t talking on the phone, he never would’ve been able to voice his feelings this easily. 

He could tell his father had to think about this one. Even so, he said “Okay” before Sakuta felt the need to say anything more. “I’ll call her school tomorrow, explain the situation,” his father said, speaking slowly and clearly. 

“Mm.” 

“I’ll probably need to meet with them.” 

“I figured.” 

Steps like this were best left to grown-ups. If a high schooler like Sakuta rolled up, it would just make everything complicated. He’d have to start by explaining why a kid like him was handling this sort of thing. And the powers that be would most likely not accept that explanation. There was no need to waste time and effort on that. 

“Sakuta.” 

“Mm?” 

“Are you eating properly?” 

That came out of nowhere. 

But it didn’t surprise Sakuta, either. 

“I am,” he answered. 

He felt sure his father was really asking something else. They had no way of knowing what would happen with Kaede’s memories in the future. The doctor had said they might be coming back. That her collapse might be a sign that was happening. 

And that could mean the return of the old Kaede. 

But Sakuta had lived with this Kaede for two years, and his father was worried about that. If something happened to her, he’d feel the loss. It would be excruciating. Sakuta might soon have to face that same devastating grief again, the grief he’d felt when they lost the old Kaede. 

“Eating right is important,” his father said. Knowing full well that nothing he said could change anything…so the words wound up being about something unrelated. 

“I got it,” Sakuta said, responding in kind. 

“Good.” 

“Mm.” 

Sometimes a vague grunt was the best response. 

“And…this can wait until things settle down, but…” 

“What?” 

“……” 

There was a pause. A breath on the other end of the line. A hesitation. Sakuta wondered why, but then his father said, “I’d like to properly meet this girlfriend of yours.” 

“Oh…,” Sakuta said. He wasn’t sure how to respond, and that was definitely obvious from his reflexive reaction. Maybe that was the right response. It was for sure way too late to try to hide it. 

While Kaede was unconscious, their father had rushed to the hospital, and Mai had shown up with a change of clothes for Kaede, and they’d bumped into each other. Since everyone was focused on Kaede’s condition, it had been a very brief interaction. 

To Sakuta’s eyes, his father was always collected and calm—but in that instant, he’d been clearly caught off guard. Anyone would be rattled by a sudden encounter with an actress that famous. And someone in his father’s generation would have seen her grow up on-screen. Given how much media attention her relationship had been given, finding out the boy in the picture was his son would be a shock to anyone. 

“Uh, yeah…when things settle down.” 

He elected not to commit to anything just yet. But it didn’t feel avoidable for long. After their brief meeting, Mai had definitely hinted that she wanted a more formal introduction in due time. She’d been in show business her whole life, which had made her very big on manners and proper greetings. 

Sakuta wanted to avoid it at all costs. Introducing a girlfriend to your parents was even more embarrassing than showing them your butthole. 

But clearly, there was no getting out of it now. He had to steel himself for the inevitable. Even if he could somehow fend off his father, Mai would not stand for it. 

“Treat her right, you hear?” 

He was definitely referring to Mai. 

Carrying on this conversation was clearly bad for his mental health, so Sakuta thanked his father for helping with Kaede’s school and hung up. 

When he put the phone down, he realized he was covered in sweat. 

“Well…what’s done is done,” he muttered. 

Knowing when to give up was critical. Giving up made most things work out. 

3 

The next day was November 20, a Thursday. Sakuta left the house to go to school and bumped into Mai outside as she was dragging a suitcase behind her. 

She’d explained she was headed out to a location shoot in Kanazawa. That giant suitcase must have been filled with all the clothes she’d need while filming. He was intrigued. 

Nodoka was next to Mai, wearing the uniform of her rich girls’ school and helping pop the suitcase down the step. A beautiful shot of two loving sisters. 

There was a car waiting for Mai on the street outside. A white minivan. A woman in a suit stepped out of the driver’s seat—Mai’s manager. Her name was Ryouko Hanawa, if memory served. She was in her midtwenties and had once been nicknamed Holstein. 

The way she closed the door made her seem flustered. Even getting out of the car, she’d been thrashing her legs around. Mai was much younger but far more collected. 

“Good morning, Ryouko.” 

“Good morning. Let me take your things.” 

“Ah, yes, please. Thank you.” 

Ryouko took the suitcase, opened the sliding door, and loaded it into the back seat. 

While she did this, Mai saw Sakuta and came over to him. 

“Two weeks, was it?” he said. 

“I’m sure you’ll be lonely without me, but I promise I’ll call every night.” 

“Then I’ll wait by the phone every evening.” 

“No need for that. Focus on your studying instead.” 

“I’ll be too excited about talking with you to focus on anything.” 

This seemed like a perfectly legitimate excuse to him. 

“Don’t use me as a reason to slack off,” Mai said, rapping him lightly on the head. 

“Can I get a good-bye kiss at least?” 

“I can’t do that with Nodoka and Ryouko watching.” 

Ryouko had finished storing the suitcase and kept glancing in their direction. Moving three steps right, then three steps left. Like an animal in the zoo. It was clear she was rather on edge. 

“I really put her through the wringer dealing with the rumor mill, so I’d better take it easy for a while. Ryouko gained seven pounds from the stress.” 

“Doesn’t stress usually make you lose weight?” 

People often said they lost their appetites. 

“She said sweet treats were the only thing that eased her exhaustion, so…it happens.” 

He glanced toward Ryouko again. She was still shifting back and forth. 

“I think she could gain another seven pounds and still be just fine.” 

She had a slender build to begin with. He didn’t see any signs that she was even the least bit overweight. Sure, she was more solidly built than active stars like Mai or Nodoka, but that just meant she was squarely in the realm of “normal.” 

“Once the location shoot is over and I’m back, I’ll give you a kiss then,” Mai said, looking up at him through her lashes, her voice soft enough that only he could hear. 

This just made him want to kiss her now. 

“Bye,” she said with a smirk that seemed to say she knew exactly what he was thinking. She’d lit his heart on fire and then strolled away to the waiting car. 

“Oh, wait! Mai!” 

“What?” she said, glancing back. 

“Uh, when things settle down a bit…my dad wants to meet you properly.” 

“Sure thing,” she said with a happy grin. 

“Also.” 

“There’s more?” She blinked. 

“You are super cute today.” 

“……” 

She gaped at him. Then she started to say something, thought better of it, and decided to just flash him a wordless smile. A pleased one. She gave him a little wave and then trotted off back to the car. She climbed inside and shut the door. 

A moment later, Ryouko got in the driver’s seat. The engine started, and the minivan pulled away. Mai waved from the window and was soon out of sight. He waited until the taillights disappeared left around the corner, then headed toward the station with Nodoka. 

“……” 

“……” 

Neither of them said anything at first. But it felt like she was trying to find the right timing to start a conversation. She kept glancing over at him. 

It was always easy to tell when Nodoka was hiding things. She was an open book. 

“What, do you need to go to the bathroom?” 

“Huh? Why would I?” 

“Then what is it?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You look like you’ve got something to say to me.” 

Nodoka hesitated for a moment. 

“If you drag this out, I’ll be too busy wondering about it to focus on class, so please. Spit it out.” 

“You never pay attention in class.” 

“Actually? Lately, I’m trying my best to.” 

After all, he had to go the same college as Mai now. 

“Okay, then let me ask—why do you look so normal?” 

“Huh?” 

“Aren’t you scared?” 

She was leaving far too much unsaid, but Sakuta knew what she meant. He’d known what she wanted to ask before she’d even opened her mouth. 

This was about Kaede. 

He couldn’t think of anything else she’d want to ask him now. 

At first, he wanted to just shrug it off. If he hadn’t seen the serious expression on her face, he might have. If she’d simply been curious, maybe that would have been an option. 

But when he turned to glance at her, he caught a glimpse of sadness in Nodoka’s eyes. A lost look. Clearly one born from genuine concern. Concern that had come out as a question. 

He couldn’t just blow that off. 

“Of course I’m scared.” 

“……” 

“I might even piss myself.” 

“I’m being serious.” 

“But you can’t screw up in front of your kid sister, can’t you? Can’t piss yourself, shit yourself, or show any sign of weakness.” 

They stopped at a red light. 

“If there’s anything I can do for her, then I’ll try to do it.” 

“……” 

“But there isn’t anything I can do.” 

He kept his voice flat. 

If there was a way to make both Kaedes happy, he’d have gone for it long ago. If there was a way to make the people around her get their bearings, he’d have spared no effort. He wouldn’t even have considered it “effort.” It would have been normal. Like breathing. Just the way things were. 

But there was no easy solution. 

There was nothing cruel about it; it was just a fact that the two of them could not both exist. 

“…Sorry,” Nodoka whispered. 

“Mm?” 

“Argh! Dammit! I’m an idiot.” 

She suddenly crouched down and messed up her hair. 

“Don’t start losing it on me, here. Everyone’ll start looking at me funny, too.” 

To a bystander, she was just a flashy blond school girl yelling and crouching low for no apparent reason. A passing businessman gave them a wide berth, and Sakuta sympathized. 

The light turned green, and the businessman quickly crossed. 

Sakuta followed. 

“Ah, wait!” Nodoka scrambled after him. “Even after my sister didn’t say anything because there’s nothing you can do, I went and had to ask… Sorry.” 

More apologies. 

She looked dejected. 

“Toyohama, if your idol career never takes off, what’ll you do then?” 

“What kind of question is that? Too early to think about.” 

Nodoka scowled at him. 

“Think you’ll be all, ‘I should never have been an idol’ or ‘That was a waste of time and energy’? Think you’ll wish none of it had ever happened?” 

Sakuta wasn’t really sure what answer he was fishing for. He just…wanted to know. 

“Of course not!” Nodoka snapped. There was rock-solid certainty behind her assertion. 

“Why do you think that is?” 

“I’ve met a lot of people doing the idol thing, had a lot of new experiences, felt things I never would have felt…and I mean, it hasn’t all been good memories, and I know that, but…I feel like all of that, good or bad, made me who am now, I guess.” 

She must have grown embarrassed by her own serious tone, because somewhere in the middle she started trying to make a joke of it. 

“I mean, sure, there’s stuff I regret. ‘I shoulda done that,’ or ‘I coulda done so much more!’” Nodoka said, like she was making excuses. Maybe trying to hide her embarrassment. 

“Oh. Well, good.” 

“Huh? Good how?” 

“I don’t think I could be friends with the kind of positive monster who’d say crap like ‘I did all I could do, so I have no regrets!’ with a straight face.” 

There would always be regrets. The more important something is, the more it matters, then the greater the emotional investment would become…and the bigger the regrets when things don’t go as hoped. 

What mattered was how you dealt with those feelings. How you processed them. And from Nodoka’s answer, she was already on her way. 

“I guess that’s it,” he muttered. 

“Huh? You figure something out there?” 

“We’re all gonna die someday, so the secret to life is to enjoy the journey, not the end. I wonder how we can tell everyone that.” 

“I wasn’t talking about anything like that, and I sure as hell don’t have any deep philosophy behind my life.” 

Nodoka rolled her eyes at him. 

“I gotta think like this to get through it,” he said. 

Nodoka leaned forward, peering up at his face. 

“What?” he said. 

“You sounded like you really meant that.” 

Why did she sound so happy? 

“But yeah,” she said. “I guess I should just keep doing what I’ve been doing.” 

“Keep acting normal around Kaede as much as possible.” 

“I dunno if I can. But I’ll try.” 

That was very Nodoka. For all her flashy style, she was really earnest underneath. 

4 

That Saturday… 

After he and Kaede finished lunch, Sakuta went out alone, walking an unfamiliar route to school. Unfamiliar because it wasn’t his school, but Kaede’s. 

Sakuta graduated from junior high back in Yokohama before they moved, so he’d never actually walked this route. Never even been down these roads. It was all new to him, but the roads looked like roads you’d find anywhere. Still felt a little novel, though. 

It was maybe a ten-minute walk. 

He first saw green nets above the schoolyard. As he got closer, he saw the white walls of the school building. 

Her junior high. 

Sakuta saw a familiar figure outside the gates. In a suit and tie. His dad was watching the baseball team practice. 

“I’m here.” 

“Mm,” his dad said. He must have heard Sakuta’s footsteps approaching. 

Why were they meeting here? 

Simple. 

This was the result of the call his dad had made to the school. 

The faculty had been unexpectedly nimble, responding instantly to a proposed meeting with Kaede’s guardians. Since his father had work, they set the meeting on the next available Saturday—November 22, today. 

“Shall we?” 

His father stepped through the school gates without hesitation. Sakuta followed. He was still feeling pretty antsy. It was always stressful entering a school that wasn’t his. It felt like he was doing something wrong, a fact he found intriguing. 

Just inside the entrance was the office. His father made the appropriate greetings. Everyone seemed aware of the situation. A woman in her forties stepped forward to meet them. 

“I’m in charge of Class 3-1,” she explained, bowing. In other words, she was Kaede’s homeroom teacher. They’d spoken once at the start of the year, but so much time had passed, Sakuta had forgotten what she looked like. 

“This way.” 

She led Sakuta and his father to a reception room between the faculty room and the principal’s office. The walls were lined with trophies. 

As they settled down on a couch, the vice-principal—who was already seated across from them—explained, “They’re primarily athletic trophies.” 

Kaede’s homeroom teacher sat down next to him. There was a folding chair to one side, and a familiar looking thirtysomething woman was seated on that—the school counselor. 

Her name was Miwako Tomobe. 

She’d been stopping by to check on Kaede once a month. Kaede called her “Ms. Miwako” on an ambiguous first-name basis, but Sakuta stuck to “Ms. Tomobe.” 

With everyone assembled, his father began to elaborate on Kaede’s situation. What had happened at her previous school and the events leading up to her dissociative disorder. And how she had expressed a desire to go to school. 

They definitely didn’t seem sure what to make of memory loss from a dissociative disorder. But before the meeting began, they’d already decided how they were going to handle the situation. 

“Our school will, of course, do everything we can to support Kaede’s attendance,” the vice-principal said, his chrome dome glistening magnificently. He smiled at Sakuta’s father, then turned to Miwako. “We believe the best course of action is to work closely with our school counselor, Ms. Tomobe, to determine how to proceed.” 

Miwako bowed her head. “I think it’s best to take these things slowly. For example, begin by walking partway to school. If that goes well, go a little farther each time, closer and closer to school. Consider the school gates her goal for a while and give her feelings time to adjust so she doesn’t feel so scared of the idea of going to school. My concern is that she’ll put too much pressure on herself; feeling like she has to go to school can sometimes make things worse.” 

“Right.” His father nodded quietly. 

“Once she’s adjusted to the commute, we’re thinking she can start by coming straight to the nurse’s office. You said she’s able to go outside now, but from what you’ve told us, she’s still very nervous around children her age.” 

Miwako glanced at Sakuta, who nodded. 

“The nurse’s office can be a safe space to get used to being at school. At this point in time, it’s best to consider the classroom a much more distant goal.” 

“One question,” Sakuta said, raising a hand. 

“Yes? Go ahead.” 

“Would being in the nurse’s office attract undue attention?” 

They weren’t exactly setting out to hide a tree in a forest, but being the only person located somewhere else would really stand out. Like being the only student in class while everyone else was in the schoolyard, or the other way around. There was a reason most students hated being the only one sitting out during gym classes. 

“That’s a fair question,” Miwako said, taking his question in stride. “There are certainly students who would find that more objectionable, so perhaps it’s best to discuss the idea with Kaede before we decide.” 

It sounded like she’d anticipated this concern. Maybe the idea came up any time there was a case like this. 

“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to meet with Kaede after this and talk things over with her directly,” she said, looking from Sakuta to his father. 

She might be flexible, but she was quite firm on what needed to be done. 

Sakuta’s father looked at him. 

He was leaving the decision in his hands. More than trying to shirk responsibility, he was simply well aware that Sakuta knew Kaede better. Kaede, too, was primarily reliant on him. His father knew Sakuta should be the one to make the decision. 

“Can I call and check with her?” 

“Yes, that’s probably for the best.” 

His father took his phone out. It wasn’t a smartphone, but an older flip phone, a simple white one. 

Sakuta took it from him and found his home number in the address book. 

“I’ll make this quick,” he said and stepped out into the hall, listening to the ringtone. 

After a few rings, it went to the answering machine. 

“Kaede, it’s me. If you’re there, pick up.” 

She instantly responded. 

“Hello! This is Kaede!” 

“Mind if we bring a guest back with us?” 

“A guest?” 

“The school counselor.” 

“…Ms. Miwako?” 

“Yep.” 

Kaede didn’t answer right away, and Sakuta suspected he knew why. Kaede had met Miwako before but hadn’t really warmed up to her. They hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot. That was maybe Sakuta’s fault. He’d introduced her as the school counselor, so Kaede had assumed her job was to make Kaede go to school. Which meant she’d seen her as someone scary. 

That misunderstanding had been long since cleared up, but the unfortunate first impression still lingered. 

“Wh-what for?” Kaede asked, proving his point. 

“Strategy planning for how best to get you to school.” 

“O-oh, in that case, then okay.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Y-yes.” 

She sounded tense, but not like she was forcing herself. 

“All right. Won’t be too much longer.” 

“I-I’ll be here!” 

Sakuta waited until Kaede hung up, then snapped the phone closed. 

5 

It was after three by the time Sakuta and Miwako left the school grounds. 

His father stayed behind, exchanging a few words with the principal (who’d finally shown himself). 

“Teachers work Saturdays, too?” Sakuta asked. 

“Weekdays we’re busy dealing with students. That means they’re usually here weekends to prep classes, et cetera. And third-year teachers have to think about each of their students’ futures, which is a lot of work.” 

“Doesn’t sound like it affects you, though.” 

“My role is a bit different from the teachers. I think I mentioned that this isn’t the only junior high under my purview?” 

Her look definitely suggested he shouldn’t have forgotten that. 

“Maybe you just seem like a school nurse and I got confused,” he said. 

He did remember her explaining this, now that she brought it up. He hadn’t been sure what exactly a school counselor was, at first. In Miwako’s case, he was pretty sure she had a clinical psychology degree and was employed by the board of education directly. 

“Ideally, I would be in residency at a single school, like the nurse is. But lack of personnel and funds make that impractical.” 

“So typical grown-up problems,” he said. That sarcasm was probably unnecessary. 

“Oh, aren’t you a spiteful one,” Miwako said. “I think you need a little counseling yourself.” 

She said that almost every time they met. He didn’t really handle her any better than Kaede did. 

“Here we are,” he said, pretending he hadn’t heard. He glanced up at his apartment building. 

“Good conflict evasion,” she said. 

“……” 

He opened the front doors, and they waited for the elevator. Inside, he pressed the button, and it carried them to his floor. 

He opened the apartment door and called, “We’re here.” 

“W-welcome back, Sakuta,” Kaede replied. 

She was all the way down the hall, hiding behind the door to the living room. Only her face visible. 

“Thanks for having me. How are you, Kaede?” Miwako asked, keeping her tone warm. 

“F-fine, thanks.” Kaede sounded tense. 

She might be able to go outside, but that didn’t mean she had suddenly started opening up to Miwako. 

Sakuta led Miwako into the living room, and Kaede retreated to the far corner…then swung around and hid behind Sakuta. 

But there was one clear change in her behavior from earlier Miwako encounters. On all previous occasions, she’d been in her panda pajamas, but now she was wearing her junior high uniform. She’d left her door half-open, and he could see the cast-off pajamas on the floor. 

She must have quickly changed when he called. But she only had one sock on, so she must have run out of time. 

“The uniform looks good,” Miwako said, smiling. Not at Sakuta, but at Kaede. 

Kaede peeped around his back. 

“Th-thanks,” she said softly. 

But Miwako heard her. “Sure. Let’s talk strategy, shall we?” 

Sakuta waved her to the dining room table. Miwako sat on the edge of a chair and began explaining what Sakuta and his father had discussed at school. 

How she should take it one step at a time. 

Starting with just walking to school. 

How just making it to the gate was enough. 

And then the suggestion that she could come to the nurse’s office. 

Kaede listened intently. 

When Miwako finished, she said, “U-um…” 

“Yes? Go ahead.” 

“I—I have a question.” Kaede raised a hand over Sakuta’s shoulder. 

“Ask anything you want, Kaede.” 

“Do I not have to go to the classroom?” 

“Do you want to?” 

“I don’t want to be different from everyone else.” 

That was a bit disconnected from the question. But it went straight to the heart of the matter. The point of this meeting was to feel out what Kaede thought she could and couldn’t do. 

“You’d rather be with everyone else?” 

“I’m afraid…of them all staring at me.” 

“So which approach seems easier?” 

“……” 

Kaede had to think about that for a while. 

“I think…,” she said, “that I’m most afraid of having everyone looking at me.” 

“Well, being in the nurse’s office will put some distance between you and the other students. It might be worth starting there.” 

“…Er, um…” 

Kaede raised her hand again. 

“Go on.” 

“D-does the nurse’s office count as going to school?” 

She sounded extra tense. And not because talking to Miwako was stressful. There was an added note of desperation. 

“Yes, of course it does,” Miwako said firmly. 

“B-but…that’s not what everyone else is doing.” 

“That’s true. But even if they seem the same, everyone is actually different.” 

“…They are?” 

Kaede leaned to her right quizzically. Pulling Sakuta with her. 

“For example…one girl might be tall, while another is short. One kid might be good at running, but another one not so much. Like that, there are children who easily adapt to being at school and children who struggle with it.” 

“……” 

“I wouldn’t tell short girls to get taller. They can’t do that. Everyone has to take things at their own pace. We have different ways of doing things, different ways of living. School is a very rich environment that can help you learn social skills and how to get along with other people, but sometimes it can force you to maintain a speed you aren’t comfortable with. And if we treat children who can’t keep up like there’s something wrong with them, then that’s a problem with the teachers. It means they have a lot to learn, too, and have yet to accept how diverse humanity really is. That’s how I see it anyway. Kaede, I think if you try your best, whatever results you manage should count as ‘going to school.’ Even if you’re just going to the nurse’s office, I’d consider that a triumph.” 

“Then can I put down a circle if I can make it to the nurse’s office?” 

“Circle?” Miwako blinked at her. 

“I-in this.” 

Kaede held up her notebook for Miwako to see. Her list of goals for the year. She’d already put circles next to a lot of things. 

“I think so. Right?” Miwako looked at Sakuta for approval. 

“Of course,” he said, nodding. 

“Th-then I definitely want to go to school,” Kaede said. 

And so, Kaede’s goal was set. 

Now they just had to take it one step at a time. 

Each one leading toward school. 

One step forward after another.