Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 9 - Chapter 1.1

That day, Sakuta Azusagawa met a little girl.

Chapter 1 - March Cameras Rolling

1

What could this mean?

The waves lapped pleasantly on Shichirigahama Beach. The wind still whistled in his ears. A voice mingled with those sounds.

“Who are you, mister?”

The speaker was a girl in a red leather knapsack.

She was looking up at him warily. Not anxious, but assured.

Sakuta was far less assured. For two good reasons.

First, this girl was very familiar. She looked just like the famous child-actress Mai Sakurajima.

But even more unsettling—this was the second time this had happened to him.

He’d dreamed about it once before. A strange dream that had really stuck with him. And now the same events were happening in reality.

And his head was too preoccupied with this strange sense of déjà vu to figure out how to respond to the kid’s question.

He wound up saying exactly what he’d said in the dream.

“I guess I’ve got one foot in the door…”

To a girl her age, high school students did look awfully grown-up. When he was her age, he’d have called anyone in uniform “mister,” too. Just…now that he was in high school, he definitely didn’t feel grown-up at all. Would he ever?

“My mom said I’m not supposed to talk to strangers. Sorry!”

She bobbed her head politely and turned her back on him.

“Where’s your mom?”

He looked around, but the nearest other person was a good thirty yards away. And that was an older dude with a dog, paying them no attention, strolling along the length of the beach.

“……”

She’d heard him but wasn’t answering. Pretending not to hear.

“You alone?”

“……”

Apparently, her mother’s rule was ironclad. She’d been looking west at Enoshima, but when she turned east toward Kamakura and Hayama, he caught a glimpse of a frown.

He looked left and right himself, wondering again what was going on.

The first phrase that came to mind was Adolescence Syndrome.

Most of the world scoffed at the concept, dismissing it as little more than a superstition. Just some nonsense made up online. Not something anyone really believed.

But Sakuta had good reason to take it seriously. He had firsthand experience with people turning invisible, predicting the future, splitting into two, or swapping bodies with their sisters. He’d lived it.

And these experiences included one girl who was sometimes in high school and sometimes in college. Mai was in high school, but it wasn’t necessarily surprising that she’d suddenly turn into an elementary school kid. Personally, he preferred the older version and hoped she’d go back to normal soon…

There was one thing that bothered him. Something his friend Rio Futaba had said.

 “Returning to the past is really problematic.”

He seemed to recall her saying that right around the time the petite devil’s mischief began.

Sakuta hadn’t really followed the logic, but if Rio said a thing, it was definitely true.

With Shouko Makinohara, she’d been known to grow up, but if the kid standing next to him was really Mai, then she’d gotten small. Which could be very problematic.

She must have sensed his eyes on her. The kid glanced up at him like she had something to say—but nothing came out. Nor did she move to leave. She just stood there, at a loss, waiting for him to say something.

“Are you lost?” he asked. The first thing on his mind.

She jumped. Clearly, he’d guessed right.

“No!” she insisted, glaring at him. That same grumpy look modern Mai often gave him.

And that made him break out in a smile.

“Where is this?” she asked, like she was rebuking that grin.

“I thought you couldn’t talk to strangers.”

“……Fine, then.”

Even grumpier. She turned her back on him again and started walking toward Enoshima.

“You’re on Shichirigahama,” he called after her.

She stopped.

He waited till she turned back, then added, “But actually, it isn’t even one ri.”

“……”

Still no reaction. She just kept looking right at him, without so much as a word.

“I go to school here. Minegahara High. Name’s Sakuta Azusagawa.”

He pointed up at the school building, belatedly introducing himself.

“Now I’m not a stranger, right?”

She blinked, eyes wide…but surprise soon gave way to a smile.

A peal of happy, childish laughter echoed across the sky.

The sound of good health and good times.

The sort of laugh that made you feel glad to be alive.

But the clouds hanging over Sakuta’s heart remained. No rays of light hit his face.

The reason was all too clear.

He had no idea who this girl could be.

When she stopped laughing, he asked, “What’s your name?”

Getting right to the point. Her lips pursed, and she blinked up at him.

“You don’t know me?”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

“I’m—,” she began.

“Sakuta.”

A voice behind him, calling his name.

A voice he’d know anywhere and could never get enough of.

“……?!”

Surprised, he swung around. He found Mai standing ten yards off, in her Minegahara school uniform. Five foot five, a little tall for a girl. She had one hand up, shielding her hair from the wind, and the other holding a cardboard tube with her diploma inside. This was Mai as he’d always known her. She picked her way across the sand toward him.

When he said nothing, she raised an eyebrow.

“Surprised to see me?” she teased.

“Mai…?” An obvious question, but he asked anyway.

“I did not leave you waiting here so long you forgot me.”

She was now close enough to reach out and flick his forehead. Her voice, her gestures, the tone she used to tease him—no doubt about it. This was his Mai.

“You really are her!”

“Who else would I be?!”

“But a second ago, I was talking to a mini Mai.”

“A what?” She blinked at him, baffled.

“Look, she’s right over—”

He turned back to the knapsack kid.

“……Huh.”

There was no sign of her. He looked left, then right, then did a 360-turn, scanning the entire beach. Nothing.

Tiny footprints were still there in the sand. They stopped where she’d been standing, right next to him. No tracks leading away.

Like she’d vanished into thin air.

“Well, damn…”

“Sakuta?”

“Mai, when you came up, did you see a little girl in a red knapsack?”

When he turned around, she’d been a good ten yards off. She’d had a full view.

But he had a feeling he wouldn’t get the answer he was looking for. Her confusion made that pretty clear. They’d been on different pages since she arrived. But he had to be sure.

“I didn’t, no,” she said, perplexed.

Yep. That was the last thing he wanted to hear.

“You’re sure?”

“You were alone from the time I reached the beach until the moment I spoke to you.”

No wiggle room. She was being as detailed as possible. And telling the truth as she saw it. No need to obfuscate anything.

“What’s going on?” she asked, frowning at him.

“Like I said, I was here waiting for you, and a kid came running up who looked just like you did, back in your child-actress years. Like yea tall.”

He held out a hand just above his waist.

“You’re sure it was me?”

“Well, as sure as I can be.”

It wasn’t like he remembered exactly what she’d looked like back then.

“But she vanished when you got here.”

They’d exchanged a handful of words. She sure hadn’t seemed like an illusion.

He scanned the beach again. So did Mai. No little knapsack kids anywhere.

“Is this Adolescence Syndrome?” Mai asked.

Sakuta glanced back at her. He moved close enough to touch, looking her right in the eye.

“Wh-what?”

“Are you doing all right, Mai? Is something wrong?”

He put his hands on the shoulders of her uniform, feeling her under his palms. He slid them down her arms to her elbows, as if tracing her outline—and then there was a sharp pain in his foot.

“Ow, ow! Mai, that hurt!”

She ground her heel harder.

“Don’t stroke people’s arms without warning!” she snapped, brushing his hands away.

“Should I have made it a grope? Owwww!”

More grinding.

“I’m just dandy,” she said. “Nothing out of the ordinary here.”

Like she had no idea why he’d be worried at all.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she added, shooting him a look of concern.

“Well, my foot hurts.”

“I mean it.”

She moved her foot but pinched his cheek instead.

“I’ve got nothing going on that could kickstart Adolescence Syndrome, either. Other than exam stress and fatigue, I guess.”

He gave her a sidelong glance, being very obvious.

“So you’re blaming me?”

“I would never! Here I am, trying to get into the same school as you—for you! And I just thought that maybe deserved a reward.”

“College is for you, Sakuta,” Mai sighed.

Then, acting like he’d left her no choice, she handed him her cell phone. It was already in camera mode. With the sea behind them, she put her shoulder to his.

Was that a prompt for a selfie?

“To mark the occasion.”

“All right, then,” he said, and he held his arm out, getting them both in the frame—and Enoshima, in the far corner. “Say cheese!”

But just as he pushed the shutter, he felt something soft on his cheek. A sweet scent wafted over. An instant later, he heard the click of the camera.

Then it was over, and Mai snatched the phone away. She pulled up the photo, mirth in her eyes. There was no mistaking that glee of a successful prank.

He leaned over her shoulder and saw his own face looking startled by the kiss on his cheek. He looked magnificently dumb. And he didn’t mind at all. The way Mai blushed slightly was too adorable for anything else to matter.

“Wipe that smirk off your face.”

“If this photo ever gets out, the media will lose their minds.”

“Should I delete it now?” Mai asked, moving away from the surf.

“Print it out first and give me a copy,” Sakuta said, catching up.

“Never.”

“Aww.”

“You’d put it on your wall.”

“So?”

“If Kaede saw it, I’d be mortified.”

“Would you now?”

“Absolutely.”

Her tone suggested that was the end of that topic. But as they reached the stairs leading up from the beach, she took his hand. Almost. She was only holding on to his ring finger and pinkie.

They started climbing.

“That reminds me, Sakuta.”

“Mm?”

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Who, and when?”

“Now.”

She ignored the other question.

The light turned green just as they reached the top. The walk lights on Route 134 infamously stayed red forever, so Sakuta moved to cross—but Mai stopped him. “This way,” she said, pulling him to the right. Toward a parking lot with a view of the ocean.

In summer, beachgoers kept this lot full, but it was March 1, and the lingering winter chill left it virtually deserted.

There were only a couple cars here and there.

Someone stood next to a navy-blue hybrid. She wore a dark jacket and a tight skirt that came below the knees. Definitely a formal look, almost a suit. Like a mother would wear to her daughter’s graduation. Which was exactly what she was.

As Sakuta and Mai approached, she spotted them. Her eyes locked on Sakuta. He was instantly nervous.

He’d seen the lady in the parking lot before.

Mai’s mother crossed her arms, waiting.

A steely glint lit up her eyes.

He’d been given no time to prepare. Completely blindsided.

He’d been told she was asking to meet him, but he would much rather have known in advance that was happening today. Knowing Mai, she had likely withheld that information on purpose.

She clearly had no intention of releasing his hand, and she pulled him gently over to her mother.

And he saw her mother’s eyes glance down, taking note of that.

“This is my boyfriend, Sakuta Azusagawa,” Mai said. Then she turned to him. “This is my—”

“I’m her mother.”

“Sakuta Azusagawa. I assure you we’re keeping things very chaste.”

He bowed his head.

“I’m aware. I had my people look into it when the media circus started.”

Her tone was perfectly pleasant, but the content was mildly alarming. What exactly had “her people” investigated? Weirdly, he found himself not minding much—it was exactly how Mai Sakurajima’s mother should act. He would have found it weirder if she hadn’t looked into him. Any celebrity mom would—

“My daughter put you through quite a lot.”

“Mm?”

This, however, caught him off guard. Enough that he let it show. She didn’t bat an eye. Either she wasn’t that interested in him, or she was deliberately ignoring his reaction—her expression never changed, and he couldn’t get a read on which.

“You haven’t had any reporters sniffing around you? Nobody taking pictures?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

Maybe someone had taken some photos without his noticing, but he couldn’t speak to that.

“Good,” she said, with a hint of relief. She glanced at her watch. “I’d better go.”

Without waiting for Mai’s answer, she opened the car door and sat down.

Before she closed the door, she looked up at Mai.

“If you take after me, you’re no judge of men. Don’t you let him cheat on you.”

Of all the things to say. Sakuta had no idea how to respond.

“Not a concern,” Mai said, not even meeting her mother’s gaze.

“You’re very confident.”

“I picked him carefully.”

She’d certainly spent a full month testing him after he asked her out.

“And I’ve got him well trained.”

Mai’s eyes glanced his way. He considered barking, but the look in her eyes was warning him not to do anything stupid, so he held his tongue. Best way to prove he was trained was to not embarrass her here.

“You say that, but I bet you’re using work as an excuse to leave him to his own devices.”

This lady knew her daughter well.

“Well…” Mai flinched. But she soon recovered. “I make a point of calling regularly when I’m on location.”

Her mother was having none of that. Her gaze turned back to Sakuta.

“Can I call you Sakuta?”

“Uh, please.”

“She’s a handful, but try to treat her right.”

“Um.”

Once more, not at all what he’d anticipated. He’d imagined she’d be against their relationship on principle, and he didn’t know what to say.

“I’ll do my best?” he managed, but she’d already shut the door, put her seat belt on, and started the engine, so she likely didn’t even hear it.

She switched her blinker on and pulled away, the hybrid engine barely a whisper.