4
He had a lot of questions for Shouko.
Or he felt like he should.
But when he tried to put them into words, nothing came out.
“……”
Unable to break the silence, he just kept his eyes locked on Shouko’s back.
They walked along the sands of Shichirigahama for several minutes. Then Shouko moved away from the surf and up a staircase. He followed her up onto the coastal road, Route 134.
She pressed the walk button, and they waited for the light to change. Cars were flowing in both directions, from Fujisawa and Kamakura, in equal numbers. The traffic whizzed past the two of them.
At last, the light turned green. Shouko started walking, so Sakuta followed. Three steps behind.
“Mind if I stop at the store?” Shouko asked, already turning toward the entrance. Sakuta waited outside, and she was back out a minute later, plastic bag in hand.
From there, they followed a gentle upward slope and crossed a single track.
“Here we are,” Shouko said, looking up at a big building.
“……”
Sakuta stopped with her, the same sight reflected in his eyes. One he saw nearly every day.
They were outside Sakuta’s school, by the front gates of Minegahara High.
“Hokay!” Shouko said. Sakuta just stood there while she put her back into it and pushed the gate open.
She got it far enough for a person to fit through, then said, “Come on,” and stepped onto the school grounds, like she was doing nothing wrong.
“……”
Unable to bring himself to stop her, he followed after.
“Don’t worry—it’ll be fine.”
“……”
“Mai’s service is today, so the school’s empty.”
He hadn’t asked, but she answered anyway.
“And if anyone does see us, well—you’re a student here! And I’m an alum. Us being here isn’t a problem.”
She sure seemed confident.
Shouko made it sound like she’d take the Minegahara entrance exam, attend high school here, and eventually graduate. But that was all in the future. None of it had happened yet.
If someone caught them, and she blabbed any of that, it would only make her seem extra fishy.
He was sure Shouko was well aware of that, but she didn’t seem at all hesitant. She looked straight ahead, making a beeline toward her objective. He still had no clue where they were going. But after a minute, it became clear their destination was inside the school building.
They went around the building to reach the yard; then Shouko opened the science lab window from the outside and climbed inside. Rio had told him about the window with the broken lock once before.
Carrying their shoes, they headed down the empty halls.
The lights were out.
Some light seeped in from outdoors, but the glow of the red bulb above the fire alarm seemed unnaturally bright.
It was unsettling. Unearthly. The halls he walked every day now seemed deeply unfamiliar. And having Shouko here with him, three steps ahead, only reinforced this impression.
Half of him was convinced he was dreaming.
He found it hard to believe Shouko was real.
But the other half knew this was actually happening.
His feelings weren’t keeping up. His emotions were lagging behind his consciousness. Three steps behind. Same as the distance between the two of them.
He could catch up if he tried. Shouko wasn’t walking fast. Closing the gap would be easy.
But Sakuta didn’t. He couldn’t.
“……”
He was scared that, if he took his eyes off her, she’d vanish.
And so he simply kept pace with her, eyes locked on her back.
Their footsteps echoed. Sakuta didn’t know where they were headed. He just trailed after her, like a child following the piper in the fairy tale.
This didn’t last long.
Sakuta stopped in his tracks. Consciously, but not by choice.
Shouko had stopped, so he did, too.
“Sakuta,” she said, turning to face him. She seemed displeased.
“What?”
“Why are you so far behind?”
“You told me to follow you.”
She let out a long sigh.
“Normally, I’d take that as one of your jokes, but you actually mean it?”
Her eyes had a soft reproach. A look that said, “Get a grip, Sakuta.”
“It still feels like I’m dreaming,” he mumbled. A weak excuse.
“……”
“Are you really here, Shouko?”
It wasn’t that he doubted his eyes. And it wasn’t that he didn’t believe what she had said. That just wasn’t enough to banish his fears. He couldn’t shake the impression that she’d vanish in the blink of an eye. And that left him deeply anxious. He knew all too well how the things that really mattered could slip from his grasp…and that left him terrified by the prospect of further loss.
“Do I not seem real?”
“…I’m not sure you do.”
“Got it.”
What she got, he didn’t know.
“Go ahead,” Shouko said, spreading her arms. “Make sure I’m here.”
“……”
Wordlessly, he took a step toward her, then another. And put his arms around her, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“!”
Shouko radiated voiceless surprise. Sakuta was in no condition to respond. He could feel her pressing up against him. His arms were wrapped around her slender frame. She seemed so fragile. But she was no mirage and wouldn’t vanish at his touch. He could feel her weight. She was solid and tangible. Now that he had his arms around her, he didn’t ever want to let go.
“You shouldn’t take jokes seriously,” she croaked.
“I have no sense of humor today.”
He was becoming aware of her warmth. The softness of her skin. The regular throb of her pulse…of the life Mai had given her.
“That is so not like you, Sakuta.”
“It’s still me, though.”
“That’s concerning.”
“……”
“Sakuta, what are we doing next?” she asked in a no-nonsense voice.
“Saving Mai…?”
“Wrong,” she said, before he could even finish.
“Wrong how?” he asked, reflexively tightening his arms.
“Okay, Sakuta, if you squeeze any harder, it’ll officially count as cheating!”
She hit the exact tone you use to scold a small child, and Sakuta finally let go. He took a step back.
“Wrong how?” he asked again.
He was vaguely aware that he sounded petulant. Again, much like a small child.
He’d said the only thing that mattered. They were saving Mai. Sakuta had followed Shouko here for that purpose, to accomplish that one thing.
“It’s all wrong. Every bit of it.”
“Then what are we doing?”
He was getting a bit heated. Maybe his deadened emotions were coming back to life. Sakuta was faintly surprised to discover he still had that much left in him. But he couldn’t dwell on that now.
“Sakuta…”
“……”
“You’re going to meet the one you love.”
“……!”
“You’re going to make the one you love happy.”
“……”
He couldn’t speak. The surprise soon faded. All that remained was understanding, seeping into him like water into a sponge.
“And if you’ve got no sense of humor, can you make Mai happy?”
“……”
Shouko’s words got right to the heart of the matter, and that was why he couldn’t respond.
That was what saving Mai really meant. What he really wanted to do. It didn’t end with saving her life. His goals lay much, much further off. And Shouko had put that in words even a child could understand.
So he couldn’t waste time panicking. Or being scared. He had to be calm and collected. To be ready for anything.
That was easier said than done. If anything, it was the opposite of easy. But he couldn’t say it was impossible. Saying “I can’t” was not an option. That was because he knew a girl who’d pulled it off and done so with a smile.
And she was standing right in front of him.
Shouko was living proof that no matter how hard the road ahead, you could pull through. The warmth of her smile had saved him time and time again. It was doing so right now.
And this knowledge meant he couldn’t claim that it couldn’t be done. Wouldn’t.
“You’re amazing, Shouko,” he said as he tried to muster a smile to match. He was still having trouble with that. The past few days had left his cheeks as stiff as concrete.
Shouko looked amused. “You pass,” she said. “Barely.”
“Grading on a curve.”
“I’ve always been soft on you. Is that news?”
“No, I was well aware. Since the moment we first met.”
Shouko’s smile was a little wobbly. The Shouko he spoke of was a different Shouko, one from a different future. Her reaction drove home the fact that the future had actually changed. A painful reminder that the future ahead of them was one in which Mai did not exist. But that pain was highly motivating.
“So where am I following you to?”
“We’re already here.”
Shouko looked up at the sign above them. It read NURSE’S OFFICE.
Naturally, the office was empty.
The fluorescent lights were off. They had to rely on the lights of the cars on Route 134, streetlights, house lights, and the faint glow of the moon above.
“Why here?” he asked.
Shouko was doing a circuit of the office, exploring. At one point, she peered into a glass cabinet filled with medical supplies.
“What we’re doing requires a bed.”
“……”
“Ah! Did your mind go straight to the gutter?”
Grinning impishly, she moved over to the bed.
“Not really in the mood…,” Sakuta said.
“That’s no fun!” Shouko said, clearly not meaning it. She sat down on the bed. She put the drinks she’d bought at the store on the bedside table. Then she took out some paper cups and poured two drinks.
Sakuta was still standing motionless in the middle of the room, so she beckoned to him, patting the bed beside her. It was an obvious invitation to take a seat.
“The bed isn’t the time machine, is it?” he asked, sitting down next to her.
“Now that sounds more like the real you,” she said with a laugh. “No. Sadly, there is no time machine.”
She handed him a paper cup. He’d been running around and crying a lot, so he was pretty thirsty. He accepted the drink and downed it all at once. He tasted plum—accompanied by a burning sensation.
“?! Shouko, this is…”
“A grown-up plum soda,” Shouko said with a grin. She hid the empty can in the plastic bag. He didn’t see the need to press the point. He’d already polished it off, and—given the circumstances—it was hardly anything more than a harmless prank. Sakuta had much bigger things to think about. There was so much he needed to ask. He was finally settling down. They should probably get to the heart of the matter.
“So how do I get to the past?”
If he was going to accomplish anything, they’d first have to clear that problem. He couldn’t save Mai or make her happy without first going back in time.
“The past is always right beside us.”
“……”
“Over there, and over there,” Shouko said, pointing. Not at anything in particular. But Rio had told him something very similar before, so he didn’t question it.
“But you can’t usually see it or reach out and touch it,” she added.
“I can see and touch you, Shouko.”
She let that pass without comment. “Normally, it’s all we can do to perceive the present. We don’t realize the past and future are all around us.”
“……”
“And it’s hard to see what you don’t know is there.”
But Shouko was doing just that. Had done so many times before.
“But you already know, Sakuta. You know the past and present are never far, and that I’ve come from the future.”
He did. He knew all of that. But simply knowing that wouldn’t enable time travel. Otherwise, anyone who knew the truth could do it.
“All of this is specific to you, right?” he said. “Adolescence Syndrome makes it possible.”
That was the basis for all of this.
Shouko had rejected the future, and her Adolescence Syndrome had, ironically, allowed her to reach this future. Her desire to never grow up had slowed down the world she perceived. But in terms of relativity, time moves slower the faster you go—and as a result, the Shouko who didn’t want to grow up had grown up faster than the Shouko who did.
“True. I think that’s accurate. But even so—it doesn’t explain why I’m here.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Little me developed Adolescence Syndrome because of her fears about the future. She was physically unable to grow up without a heart transplant, after all.”
Her eyes were locked on him, telling him something.
“So…is the present Shouko— Has Makinohara already had her surgery?” he asked.
If that was true, then she was right. It didn’t make sense for future Shouko to be here at this point in time.
“Yes, she has.”
Her eyes confirmed it. She spoke slowly, as if trying to get through to him.
“After the surgery, I woke up…on the morning of December twenty-seventh.”
“……”
He didn’t need to look at the clock. It was already the next day. December 28. And it was after sunset. Little Shouko’s fears of the future should have been resolved with the success of her transplant. The underlying cause of her Adolescence Syndrome should have been eliminated.
“Then why are you here?”
If little Shouko no longer had Adolescence Syndrome, then logic dictated that big Shouko shouldn’t be around anymore. Yet she clearly was.
“I believe what you and I perceive as ‘the present’ is actually ‘the future.’”
“……”
It took him a long time to grasp her meaning.
“Right now, you and I are in the future,” Shouko said. “We might be standing here talking, but this is not actually the present.”
“That can’t be…”
“And the one doing this…is you, Sakuta.”
Unable to process this, he just gaped at her.
“…Shouko, what…?”
This had to be some sort of sick joke. But Shouko looked totally serious. No signs of her usual teasing. She was holding his gaze, speaking patiently.
“Doesn’t ring a bell?”
“…How could…?”
He trailed off. Denying this should be easy. But it wasn’t. Maybe part of him already knew.
“Like the little me did, part of you is rejecting the future.”
There was only one thing that could make him do that. And Shouko was gently leading him there.
The light of the answer glowed up ahead.
Far ahead.
In the depths of his heart.
He squinted at it, and it began to take shape.
She was right.
He had rejected the future.
With all his might.
He knew exactly when.
The instant he’d learned it was his heart in big Shouko.
And when Mai found out…
“Choose a future with me.”
When she’d said that…
“Stay with me.”
When she’d broken down crying in the station.
“I want to live.”
When he was talking to big Shouko and let the wave of emotions get the best of him.
Sakuta had hoped that December 24, the day of destiny, would never arrive. He knew he had to find an answer, but the whole time he’d been battling his own reluctance to do so. He’d tried to face the part of him that didn’t want to make a choice, and he thought he had…but clearly hadn’t.
And if that had led him to manifest the same Adolescence Syndrome symptoms as Shouko…
“……”
“Figured it out?”
“……”
He said nothing. His last shred of reason rejected the idea of exposing himself like that.
“I get not wanting to admit it, but we’re gonna need you to. You’ve got to face the weakness inside, the part of you that rejected what the future held.”
“Shouko.”
“Believing in that weakness is the first step toward admitting you’re in the future. And if this is the future, then you can go back to the present. Go back and save Mai.”
“……”
He took a deep breath.
He looked down at the empty cup.
Admitting his own weakness.
Running those words through his mind made him laugh—well, it was more a wheeze.
“Sakuta?”
“That part’s easy.”
He wasn’t putting a brave face on it, lying, or joking. He genuinely meant it. He’d found that within himself. Imagined himself clinging to the bottom of the cup.
“No way I could be fine with any of this. It makes far more sense to assume it drove me around the bend.”
That idea was much more convincing. He’d thought he was handling stuff better than he’d expected, so being told he really hadn’t was kind of a relief.
“That side of you is really something, Sakuta.”
“You’re one to talk, Shouko,” he said with a chuckle. “But how exactly do I get to the present?”
“Common sense dictates that whatever you see must be the present. As long as you’re trapped by that idea, you can’t travel to other times, no matter how close they may be.”
“So…abandon all logic, then?”
“You need to discard any logic or rationale that tries to constrain your perception of ‘here and now.’”
“Now you sound like Futaba.”
“Well, yeah, I got all of this from her.”
Shouko puffed up her chest in pride.
“Future Futaba came up with this hypothesis.”
“So even in the future, she’s providing consultations on Adolescence Syndrome?”
That was a hilarious thought. He loved it.
“Okay, so how do I discard logic?”
He figured common sense would cling to you whether you gave it any conscious thought or not. It wasn’t like you could flip a switch in your mind to rid yourself of it. Believing that the past and future were constantly within reach went against all common sense and seemed inherently impossible.
“I told you that already.”
Clearly, she wanted him to think for himself. She must have been referring to when they first reached the nurse’s office. They hadn’t really talked much before getting here.
What was it that she’d said? He tried to remember.
“……”
His brain was still sluggish, but the first thing that came to mind sounded like a joke.
“You mean…go to sleep?”
“Exactly! Best way to abandon common sense is in a dream.”
“Hence the nurse’s office.”
He looked at the bed beneath him. This was definitely the only place in school with one of these.
“But…Shouko…”
“No buts!”
She waggled an index finger at him.
Sakuta shook his head, pressing on.
“Even if I can go back in time…”
If he saved Mai, that mostly likely meant Shouko wouldn’t have a future. The fact that Mai had been able to replace Sakuta as a donor was already astronomically unlikely. A future in which he saved Mai from the accident and survived it himself…how would Shouko fare in that scenario?
He meant to say all of this out loud but couldn’t. Shouko didn’t let him. She reached out and pinched his cheek.
“No buts.”
“……”
“You can’t wimp out on me now!”
She was scolding him again. Lips pursed. But his eyes were on something else: her left hand, pinching his cheek. The sparkle on her finger. A simple silver ring. All his attention had snapped right to it.
“Oh…,” Shouko said, noticing his gaze. She quickly withdrew her hand and put her other hand over it, almost hiding it. Her fingers touched the ring. She spun it in place, as if reminding herself how it felt.
Big Shouko had appeared many times before but never with a ring. But the Shouko from the future where he survived? She had one. The meaning of that wasn’t lost on him. And of course, if he changed things now, that future would also change. Just like this Shouko had Mai’s heart instead of his.
“Your ring…”
“Always wanted to get married in college.”
She grinned, like she was trying to cover an awkward moment. And that smile betrayed the happiness of her life, like the warmth of the spring sun. But behind it, he found a note of sadness.
“What I want, Sakuta,” she said, gazing through the window at the ocean, “is for the one I love to be happy. I want him to smile. Even if it isn’t for me.”
“…Shouko.”
At her name, she turned and grinned at him again.
“I’m very persistent.”
“……”
“Until you’re happy, I’ll keep coming back from any future to help you. No matter how many times it takes.”
There was determination hidden behind that impish grin. It wasn’t overbearing, but there was an undeniable strength to it. One that shone through her words and bearing.
“So stop resisting and be happy.”
What a merciless phrase. But at the same time—it was very Shouko.
“……”
“……”
There was a brief silence, punctuated with the sound of passing cars on Route 134. He never noticed that sound when school was in session, but with no other noises, it sure was tugging at his attention.
“Shouko,” he said, making up his mind.
“What, Sakuta?”
She’d given him the space he needed. So he didn’t hesitate to say the rest.
“I’ll make Mai happy.”
It came out easily.
“Yes, I’m sure you will.”
“……”
“Only you can.”
“So there’s something I need to say to you.”
“……”
Here, Shouko shook her head. Her eyes said there was no need. But Sakuta wasn’t about to be dissuaded.
Shouko had made him realize something.
And he’d made his decision in light of that.
And he owed it to Shouko to explain his decision.
Going back in time would only get him just that—time. Maybe he’d find a way to keep Mai from getting hit by that van, but if he did, then Shouko would lose her donor.
And if he was going to make Mai happy, then Sakuta couldn’t get hit by a van, either. Losing Mai had made him all too aware of how much grief his own death would put her through.
And he couldn’t do that to her.
So he had to say it.
“I want you to live, Shouko.”
His calm voice filled the nurse’s office.
“From the bottom of my heart, I hope Makinohara gets the transplant she needs.”
“Okay.”
“I’m praying for you.”
A little bit at time.
“I’m wishing on every star.”
He told her how he truly felt.
“I know,” she said.
“But I’m not a doctor.”
“……”
“And I don’t have any special abilities or powers.”
“……”
“I’m just a high school kid.”
“You’ve got a lot more nerve than most of them.”
A little laugh escaped him. This made it a little easier for both of them, he thought. But when he was done, he kept going. Putting all his feelings in words.
“It’s all I can do to make Mai happy.”
“……”
“And I couldn’t even do that right.”
He broke off, emotions choking his voice. He felt tears welling up, but it didn’t seem right to cry in front of Shouko. So he fought them back. He looked up, waiting for the heat behind his nose to go away. He stayed like that for a good ten seconds.
“So,” he said. “That means one thing, Shouko.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t do anything for you.”
He looked her right in the eye as he said it.
This was the path he’d chosen.
Maybe some would say it was a selfish choice.
Maybe some would accuse him of making a mistake.
Maybe some would curse his lack of morals.
But Sakuta was fine with all of that.
Selfish, mistaken, or immoral—fine.
If he could make Mai happy, it was worth it.
“Sakuta, that’s how it should be.”
She was wearing her usual smile. There was just one difference—that flawless smile of hers was wet with tears.
“…Shouko?”
“Mm…?”
She’d only just noticed.
“Why…am I…?”
She wiped the tears with her fingers.
“I swore I wouldn’t…”
“……”
“I guess hearing it out loud…still hit me pretty hard.”
Shouko offered an excuse in apparent consternation about her tears. She kept insisting that she was fine, like she was worried about how he’d take it. She never once looked sad. Just a little embarrassed by her crying.
She was trying to act tough for his sake, and he wanted to say something, to tell her how that made him feel.
“……”
He opened his mouth to do just that but ultimately said nothing more.
There was nothing else he could do for her.
He’d already said everything he had to say. So he swallowed apologies and gratitude alike and just watched, waiting for Shouko to recover.
The tears on her fingers glistened in the moonlight.
The silver ring gleamed on her left ring finger.
“One last thing,” Sakuta said, despite himself.
“Yes?”
“When you get back to the future, deliver a message to future me.”
“……”
“Tell him, ‘Make your adorable bride the happiest person in the world.’”
“……!”
For a moment, Shouko was caught off guard. That told him everything. He’d figured as much, but now he was sure. He wasn’t talking to Shouko Makinohara. He was talking to Shouko Azusagawa.
“……I’ll make sure he hears that,” Shouko said, smiling softly through her tears. They were dripping off her cheeks, and she was no longer trying to wipe them away. This time they were tears of joy.
Shouko stood up.
“Time you lay down, Sakuta.”
To go back in time, he had to abandon common sense. And that could only be done in dreams. She had just explained this to him.
“Ever since it happened…I’ve never been quite sure if I was awake or not.”
He wasn’t sure he’d actually fall asleep.
“I’m worried that…”
But a yawn interrupted him.
His eyelids felt heavy.
“You’ll be fine,” Shouko said.
He looked up at her.
“How can you…?”
Shouko was getting blurry. Sakuta felt like he’d slurred his words. This wasn’t normal.
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
Her voice sounded far away. She was right next to him, but it didn’t seem like it.
“Shouko…?”
“I made sure to dose your drink.”
There was a package of sleeping pills in her hand.
“Oh…okay…that explains it…”
His eyes closed and the world went dark.
“Good night, Sakuta.”
Feeling like this had happened to him before, Sakuta sensed his mind drifting off to the world of dreams.
“First, look for someone who can find you.”
Pondering the meaning of Shouko’s last words, Sakuta embarked on a journey through time.
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