Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 8 - Chapter 4.3

3

Sakuta was already running behind, so he abandoned the idea of rushing to work and called the restaurant. He explained what had happened and got permission to delay his start by an hour. With that taken care of, he called his dad.

Kaede’s choice was clear, but this was her future, so best to loop their dad in. He’d want to be asked.

His dad soon picked up, but before Sakuta could even say a word, he asked, “The quota thing?”

He must have been even more hung up on it than Sakuta was and paying close attention to the prefectural admissions news.

“Ms. Tomobe called. Said we should make up our minds quick and start the paperwork.”

“I figured I’d call about that this evening.”

“Can you swing by tomorrow?”

“Okay. In the evening, after I see your mother in the hospital.”

“Then I’ll let Ms. Tomobe know we’ll get her our answer Monday.”

“Okay. I’ll let you handle that.”

“I told her I’d keep her updated.”

“Good, you do that.”

His father’s voice was low. The signal itself was fine; he was intentionally keeping quiet. That made it clear where he was—their mother’s hospital.

Her nerves had deteriorated after everything with Kaede. He didn’t want her hearing this.

“See you tomorrow,” Sakuta said, figuring the details could wait.

He hung up and called Miwako back to let her know they’d hash out the details tomorrow with their dad and call again on Monday.

When he finally put the phone down, it was three thirty.

Since his shift now started at four, it was still a bit early to leave. He wound up having some tea and a few of the cookies Kotomi had brought with her.

“Thanks,” he said, finishing the last of his tea. “Okay, this time I really am going to work.”

He peeled himself out from under the kotatsu.

“Oh, then I’ll walk with you,” Kotomi said, getting up, too. “Mom said I shouldn’t outstay my welcome.”

“You wouldn’t be!” Kaede said, clearly not ready to part.

But Kotomi lived in the suburbs of Yokohama—twenty minutes on the Tokaido Line from Fujisawa Station, but then she had to take a different train bound inland, so the whole commute took about an hour. Getting back was no small feat.

“Let’s have her sleep over the next time she visits,” Sakuta suggested.

Kaede nodded. “I’ll e-mail you!” she said.

And saw them off at the door.

Sakuta and Kotomi headed for the station. It was almost four, and the sun dropped toward the horizon. A week ago, the chill of night would already have been in the air, but now the sunlight felt almost warm.

Tomorrow was March 1. It was high time the world gave up this winter thing.

When they reached the main drag, they got caught by a red light.

“Kae’s really something,” Kotomi said.

“Yeah?”

“So mature.”

“Is she…?”

He didn’t know what she meant by that.

“Choosing her own school. Again.”

“Oh, the Minegahara thing?”

He finally caught her drift.

Kaede had looked right at him, absolutely certain.

 “Sakuta, I’m not going to Minegahara. I’m gonna find a school I want to go to.”

“If that had been me, I think I’d have jumped at the chance to go to a normal school.”

“Because doing what everyone does is better?”

“Yeah.”

“Kaede just happened to meet the right people.”

He’d just happened to know someone she could talk to about remote learning. And that person being Uzuki Hirokawa was pretty key. Uzuki’s mom had likely played just as big a role.

“But point taken. She took what she learned and did good.”

“Make sure you tell her that. She’ll be delighted.”

“Ew. It’ll just go to her head.”

“Then I’ll pass it along for you.”

He glanced her way, and she already had her phone out. He saw her fingers dance across the screen.

“I just e-mailed it to her,” she said, before he could stop her. “Oh, and she answered.”

“Yeah?”

Kotomi read it and laughed.

“‘Then he must be an imposter.’”

She showed him the screen as proof.

“Kaede’s getting real witty these days.”

Perhaps that was her growing up and becoming more mature.

The light turned green, and they started walking again.

The rest of the walk, they talked about Sakuta’s job. Kotomi was thinking about getting one herself in high school. She was a smart kid and would probably do fine no matter where she worked.

They reached the station, and he saw her to the gates.

She bowed her head low, tapped her train pass, and went through. Then she turned back.

“I’ll come stay over spring break,” she said as she smiled and waved.

Sakuta raised a hand in response, and she dashed off down to the platform.

When she was out of sight, he turned toward the restaurant he worked at.

“Is that gonna make Mai mad…?”

Was having a sister’s friend sleep over verboten or not? It was kinda hard to tell where the line lay.

Since they’d let him delay his shift an hour, he took the job a mite more seriously than usual. Swiftly busing emptied tables and saying “I’ll get them” proactively when he saw someone at the register—letting his manager know.

After a while, there were more empty tables than not. Teatime was over, but the dinner rush hadn’t started yet.

Sakuta was wiping down an empty table when the manager called out, “Sakuta, take your break now.”

“You’re sure? I was an hour late.”

“Kunimi’s already here, so you’re good. Uh, but make it thirty. By then, it’ll be filling up.”

“That works.”

He wasn’t about to refuse a break.

He headed to the back of the shop, where he helped himself to the staff beverages.

“Sakuta,” someone called. He knew it was Yuuma Kunimi without looking.

“What?”

“Turn this way.”

“Why?”

Reluctantly turning around, he found Yuuma holding a tray with a chocolate parfait on it.

“Is that for me? I’d rather have a burger.”

“There’s a cutie at table six,” Yuuma said, pushing the tray into his hands.

“Mai?” he asked.

But Yuuma just said, “You’ll see.” Then a bell rang—a customer trying to order. “Coming!” he called, and he moved away.

Yuuma probably wouldn’t have used cutie with Mai. Pretty or a beauty maybe—those descriptors fit her better.

No point just standing around holding a parfait, and he was curious, so he headed to the table in question.

Table six had a girl in a junior high uniform, on her own in a booth meant for four.

When she saw Sakuta coming, her face lit up.

“Oh, Sakuta!” she squealed, her voice echoing across the room.

It was Shouko Makinohara.

He put the parfait down in front of her.

“Your chocolate parfait,” he said.

“Wow!” she said, eyes glittering.

He sat down across from her. “What’s up?”

“Do you have time?” she asked, searching his face.

“I’m actually on break.”

“Oh, am I interrupting?”

Her eyes were already back on the dessert, though.

“We can talk while you eat.”

“Okay!”

She grabbed her spoon, made sure she had ice cream, whipped cream, and chocolate on it, and popped into her mouth. Bliss spread to every inch of her features. Overall, she seemed the picture of health. Her heart transplant surgery had finally made that possible.

“You’re looking good.”

“The surgery was a year ago.”

She tapped her chest, looking proud.

“This is all Mai! That movie did wonders.”

“It sure made waves.”

This movie was one Mai had made in junior high. It was released just before her hiatus and proved to be a huge hit tearjerker.

Mai had really thrown herself into the role of a girl with heart problems who hoped for a donor heart but had only a few months left to live. It was the exact same condition Shouko had.

“The doctors said the registered donor lists skyrocketed after that movie came out.”

“Well, good.”

“Do you think Mai remembered me?”

“No. Like me, she didn’t remember anything until we were on our way back from the New Year’s shrine visit. When we ran into you on the beach at Shichirigahama.”

“Then why’d she take the role? Before the redo, she’d picked a different movie, right?”

That one had also been a huge hit—but it was a horror film.

“She said when the script came her way, she just felt compelled to do it. Didn’t know why. Just knew she had to take the part.”

And Shouko understood why without him saying it aloud. It was a feeling Sakuta shared.

“I was the same way. I didn’t remember anything, but the feelings remained. A vague sense I was forgetting something important, that there was something I had to do.”

In his case, he’d dealt with that restless feeling by repeatedly making small donations. He didn’t remember exactly when he’d started doing that, but every time he ran across a charity drive, he dumped all the change he had. Never felt the need to stop. He was still at it, consciously keeping the practice going.

He didn’t think a few hundred yen would really save anyone. He didn’t have anyone near him who desperately needed saving. But sometimes a lot of little things can make a difference.

Shouko being here in front of him, happily devouring her parfait? That proved it. He hadn’t been able to save her—but someone else had put their name on a donor list and given her a future.

“So what brings you here today?”

Shouko took the spoon out of her mouth.

“Sakuta, have you heard of this?” she asked, pulling out her phone and showing him the screen. On it was a music video—one posted under the Touko Kirishima name.

“My sister’s friend was talking about her earlier.”

“You never disappoint.”

“How so?”

“Destiny adores you.”

“Can’t say I appreciate the affections of an abstract concept.”

He preferred the adorations of warmer, softer things.

“But what about this video?”

Shouko would not just be making small talk.

“Something here bugged me.”

Her tone didn’t change, but there was a serious glint in her eye.

“Specifically?” he said, intrigued.

“I remember everything.”

“……”

“You and Mai might not have, but I always did. I’ve got several different future versions of me in here. That includes everything they knew.”

That included the Shouko who’d received Sakuta’s heart and the one who’d had Mai’s. Possible other future Shoukos he didn’t even know about.

“Mm, I knew that.”

“But not this.”

“Not…?”

“None of my future memories had Touko Kirishima videos in them.”

“……”

Shouko was getting more serious by the second, but that wasn’t what silenced him. It just took him a moment to align her words with his own experience.

“Ah, I get you now.”

“Yeah.”

He could see why she wasn’t joking around. If none of the future Shoukos had ever seen a Touko Kirishima music video, then…she might well have existed but certainly hadn’t become as popular as she was now. Something new was afoot. Which meant…

“The butterfly effect? You’re worried that what you’ve done has changed the future?”

“And you’re my accomplice.”

Shouko shoved the last bite of parfait into her mouth. She was finally joking again.

“I don’t think you need to worry about it, Makinohara.”

“Because even if I’m right, and I did change someone else’s life—that’s their problem?”

That sure sounded like something he would say. And the smirk on her face looked like a kid who’d just pulled off a flawless prank. Childish, but a look the older Shouko had often employed.

“Yeah. I’m not so overwhelmingly nice I gotta worry about people I’ve never even met.”

“Says the guy who drops spare change into every collection box he sees. You’ve got acres of unconscious kindness.”

“I just couldn’t think of any other way to help you.”

And he was keeping it going as a way of paying the world back for saving her. Paying back not any particular person, just…the general goodwill that existed, out there somewhere.

“Either way, unless anyone’s actually in trouble, we can let it be. If there’s people who are benefiting from the changed future…well, I wouldn’t mind a little of that coming my way.”

At the very least, Touko Kirishima’s popularity seemed like a net positive.

But his joke only elicited a hint of a smile.

“I think you’ve got better things to do than worry about strangers,” he said.

She did.

Something far more important.

Something only Shouko could do.

He looked her right in the eye, and she smiled. Knowing what he meant.

“I’ve gotta enjoy life in all the ways I couldn’t.”

“Exactly.”

“I promise I am. I mean, I could never have eaten a chocolate parfait before.”

“Such a small thing.”

“And the secret to true happiness is taking pleasure in the little things.”

That was a very big-Shouko thing to say, and she grinned triumphantly.

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he said, nodding. He glanced over at the clock. Only five minutes left. “That all you wanted to say?”

It sure sounded like she was done. But…

“Actually, there is one more thing,” Shouko said. “The real reason I came to see you today.”

She looked at him, seeming slightly lost. Something hard to get out? Her next words showed why.

“I’m moving away.”

It didn’t take much time to grasp a concept that simple.

“When? Where?”

Sakuta knew right away what to ask.

“Tomorrow, ten AM flight…to Okinawa.”

“That’s sudden.”

Well, it was to him. Maybe not to her.

“Warm weather takes less of a toll on me,” she said, looking more relaxed.

“School?”

“I’ve still got junior high classes…but we’re gonna use March to settle in, and I’ll be back in school in the new year.”

“Oh.”

“Mai kept it secret, then?”

“Huh?”

“I sent her a letter last week. Advanced warning.”

“Yeah?”

“And I asked her to take care of you.”

“And she answered?”

“It came this morning.”

She took a blue envelope out of her bag.

To Sakuta, this was his first love and his current love, and he wasn’t really sure he wanted to know what they were talking about.

But he felt like not asking would make this parting worse.

“What’d she say?”

“When we’re settled in, she’ll bring you down to hang out.”

“Oh.”

“Mm.”

“To Okinawa… Sounds nice.”

“I’ll write you once I get my bearings.”

“Looking forward to it. If you take any good pictures, send those along.”

“I’ll be sure to include some nosebleed-inducing swimsuit shots.”

“You’ll need to wait at least three years for that.”

“Then I take ’em. Start a big fight with Mai when you least expect it.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Good.”

Shouko gave him her nicest smile. It was blinding. And Sakuta did his best to sear that into his memory.

Okinawa was a short flight away. It was part of Japan, a lot more accessible than the past or the future.

But it would be a while before he saw Shouko smile again.

And he’d miss that. Obviously. But he didn’t say so. Shouko had conquered her condition and had her whole life ahead of her. Moving was the first step to that. So…

“Makinohara.”

“Yes?”

“Get out there and knock ’em dead.”

He held out a hand.

“I will,” she said, wrapping her little hand around it.