Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 9 - Chapter 1.3

3

Good on her word, Mai rang the intercom at exactly four.

“That’s Mai, right? I can answer?”

Before Sakuta could say no, Kaede had hit the button. She went to the door all on her own and brought Mai back to the living room. He should probably have been pleased his infamously shy sister was opening up, but it just felt like she was stealing his job.

“Mai, it’s so cool you graduated!”

“Thank you, Kaede.”

Kaede was still a little tense, so Mai was being extra nice.

Mai had a large tote bag with her, far too large for someone who was just coming over for dinner.

“Sleeping over?” he asked, figuring a man could dream, and saying it might make it come true.

“Don’t be silly,” she scoffed.

“I think it’s high time that stopped sounding silly.”

They’d started dating last summer. Two full seasons had passed, and spring was almost here. More than six whole months!

“Shh, Kaede’s listening,” she scolded.

“Exactly, Sakuta!” Kaede said, with a very cowlike groan. His sister seemed to have a thing for black-and-white animals.

“I brought some study guides. To help with your exams, Sakuta!”

Mai pulled a bundle of books out of the bag and forced them into his hands. He wasn’t about to argue. He made it a rule to accept any and all presents from Mai.

“Also, this.”

She took out a plastic DVD case. The word Kokonoe ran down the spine. This was Mai Sakurajima’s debut role, the morning soap that had made her a superstar.

On-screen, six-year-old Mai was sobbing her eyes out, the wails racking her body as she ran and tumbled—pouring her soul into the emotion of the scene.

Kaede clearly couldn’t take her eyes off it. At first, she’d been going, “Mai, you’re amazing!” or “You were so cute!” but before long, the story and performances held all her attention, robbing her of the ability to speak. She was fully focused on the screen, unaware her jaw was hanging open. Kaede laughed and cried with every character.

She’d only been three when this had aired and hadn’t seen any of it. Sakuta himself only remembered a scene or two. He had no memories of watching it back in the day, so he’d likely seen highlights in montages of her work or the like.

“Sakuta, give me a hand?”

He turned to look and found Mai wearing an apron, waving him into the kitchen.

He left the TV and went to help her get dinner ready. This was nominally a graduation party, so it wasn’t fair to make the guest of honor do all the work.

“Score these,” she said, handing him the package of sausages.

He took a knife and scored each wiener three times so they wouldn’t split while cooking.

“Well?” Mai asked, glancing at the screen.

“I think you’re far cuter now.”

“I know that,” she said, stepping lightly on his foot. That meant “Be serious.” She hadn’t brought over the DVD so he could compare and contrast.

She’d brought it over because of the girl he’d met on the beach at Shichirigahama.

“They look alike. Identical.”

He’d known that beyond all doubt the moment the video started. The moment he’d seen the picture on the cover. Young Mai looked just like the girl with the knapsack.

“Oh.”

“But, like, that’s what makes it weird.”

“Weird how?”

“They’re too similar. Like—down to the way they talk.”

This had taken him a while to pick up on. But the more he watched, the more the similarities stood out.

Little Mai was definitely Mai, but since she was acting—in a sense, it wasn’t her. This wasn’t the real Mai but one playing a role. So even if she looked the same, the part she was playing should create discrepancies in gestures and word choices, signs they had different personalities. And yet he could find nothing out of place.

“I feel like the girl I met was you on TV.”

That was the best way he could put it.

“That makes even less sense,” Mai said, an onion in one hand.

She had a point. It didn’t really clarify much of anything. Possibly even deepened the mystery.

“Wait, is that all?” Kaede asked. The DVD playback had stopped, and it had returned to the menu. “Mai, do you have the rest?”

The story itself was still unfinished. Kaede turned back, eager to see the rest.

“Sorry, I only had the first volume on hand. I bet Nodoka has the rest…”

“The siscon idol would.”

“I’ll have to ask her, then,” Kaede said, carefully putting the disc back in the case. “Shame she couldn’t make it today.”

Nodoka had been hell-bent on coming, but it had overlapped with a Sweet Bullet tour. She was likely on a stage somewhere in Niigata now, blond hair flouncing as fans screamed, “Dokaaaa!”

“You’re getting pretty tight with her, Kaede,” Mai said, smiling. She seemed happy to see Kaede getting back what she’d lost. Or maybe just glad their little sisters were friends.

“She helped me study a lot while I was figuring out my high school plans.”

That had been a huge help. Nodoka’s hair and flashy makeup belied a big brain, and not only were her grades good, but she was good at teaching. She’d helped Kaede through a lot, and it was only natural they’d bonded.

As these thoughts ran through Sakuta’s head, Kaede came into the kitchen, calling his name.

“What?”

“I wanna help, too.”

“Then slice these onions for me,” Mai said.

“Okay.”

“Aw, I wanted to help Mai.”

“Sakuta, when you’re done with that, rinse the rice.”

Sadly, his faint hope was soon dashed.

Following Mai’s instructions, Sakuta and Kaede got the spread ready for roll-your-own sushi night. But not just any old sushi—they had a hot plate in the center of the table and were frying meat and sausages on it, which they could then add to the rolls they made. This was why Mai had bought a variety of seafood and veggies, too.

The conversation stayed lively as the trio boasted about the successful rolls they’d created, and before they knew it, they’d eaten everything.

After dinner, they relaxed with some tea, talking, watching TV, comparing the real Mai with the one in her commercials.

Sakuta took care of the dishes while Mai was playing with Nasuno. By then, it was nine, and he hit the switch on the bath like always.

When it was full, Kaede took her turn, and Sakuta and Mai were finally alone together.

But not exactly in the mood to sit on his bed.

They were in his room, seated on opposite sides of a low folding table. On the table was a notebook filled with English vocabulary in Sakuta’s handwriting. Mai was going over it with a red pen. She’d given him a pop quiz to make sure he was hitting his daily memorization quota.

She’d said “Your room” like it meant something, and this was what he got for hoping.

And the results—well, his efforts had paid off, and he’d gotten 90 percent right. Not bad. He’d been studying on his breaks at work and school, and during the commute itself. Mai would likely say something nice soon.

But when she finished grading, she didn’t look pleased.

“Acceptable,” she said, somehow making that seem disappointed.

“And what score would I need to earn your approval?”

Best he had a clear target.

“One hundred percent.”

Not really feasible.

“Aww.”

“Remembering these should be a given. This is basic vocabulary.”

She was clearly just stating the obvious. No room to argue. Mai was strict with herself and others. But Sakuta knew she tended to go easy on him. Sometimes maybe a bit too much.

“I know Kaede was a big distraction, and you clearly didn’t let that disrupt your own studies.”

The stick was followed by a carrot.

“So I suppose you’ve earned some reward.”

“I have?!”

He half rose from his seat.

“You have something in mind?” she asked.

“Actually, first…there’s something you should see.”

This was important, and he was on his feet anyway, so he quickly shed his sweatshirt. Naked from the waist up in the blink of an eye.

“Wha—I only said some!”

Mai turned her eyes away, her face bright red. But she kept glancing back at him. And she soon noticed the mark on his side.

“…Huh?”

Genuine surprise.

“What? What’s that?” she asked, growing very serious.

The pale puffy scar across Sakuta’s side was certainly alarming.

“No clue,” he said.

“Since when?”

“It wasn’t there when I got dressed this morning. Found it when I got home and changed out of my uniform.”

Mai got to her feet and came around the table.

“Let me see,” she said. Her fingers ran along the length of the scar, brushing his skin. “No strange noises this time?”

“I only just realized it myself—but I can’t actually feel you touching it.”

“How about now?”

She rubbed a little harder, but he couldn’t feel a thing.

“Here I finally get you to touch me, and I can’t even tell!”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“I’d really prefer to feel your touch than not.”

She made a face and pulled her hand away.

“Does this have anything to do with the mini me from the beach?”

Sakuta couldn’t see any connection, so he couldn’t really say for sure. But when two weird things happen in rapid succession, it’s natural to suspect a link. The timing did not seem coincidental.

Mai picked up his sweatshirt and handed it to him. “Put this on before you catch a cold,” she said.

He did as he was told and sat back down on the cushion. When their eyes met, he caught a glimpse of unease.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Based on?” Mai asked, settling down across from him. Not looking away. He could feel her concern.

“No matter what happens, I have you,” he said, holding her gaze. “You’re all I need, Mai.”

“Oh, right,” she said, smiling sheepishly. But then, watching his face closely, she added, “And Shouko’s no longer around.”

That was just mean.

It was very her to not let him control the conversation. She knew full well he was just trying to butter her up so she’d go easy on him. And she knew just how to counter him.

When he failed to respond, she grinned like she’d won. Then she said, “That reminds me,” and reached for her tote bag. She pulled a script out.

Another new shoot? He braced himself for bad news, but instead, she pulled a scrap of paper out from between the pages and put the script itself back in her bag.

“This is for you,” she said, sliding the scrap across the table.

“What is it?”

It looked like notebook paper. Folded in half.

“For good luck.”

“Like a charm?”

“Yep.”

She was blushing slightly, but no explanation was forthcoming.

Had she drawn her own charm?

Puzzled, he unfolded the scrap of paper.

It was an official form, with boxes for names at the top.

And above that it said Marriage Application.

“Um.”

It took him a moment, but this was clearly not the standard form. The margins were varying shades of blue, and at the bottom of the page was the illustration of a yacht floating off the coast of Enoshima.

“I was on a daytime panel show, and they had a segment on area-specific marriage applications,” Mai said, talking rather fast.

If Enoshima was on it, this must have been the Fujisawa version.

“They gave me a copy, mostly joking around. Knowing I live here. ‘It’ll come in handy when you and that boyfriend tie the knot,’ they said.”

She made it sound like this was Sakuta’s fault. A hint of “sulky child” on her face. That was usually a sign she was trying to hide her embarrassment.

“In other words, I didn’t go to the license bureau and pick it up myself or anything.”

That was clearly an important point.

“Um, Mai…”

“Yes?” she said, instantly very guarded.

“You didn’t put your name on it.”

A lovely form, sadly blank.

“I think that would double its effectiveness as a charm,” he insisted.

“Just my name,” she whispered, and she snatched the form away from him. She turned it toward her and wrote Mai Sakurajima on the bride’s side. Flawless handwriting. Sakuta watched closely, and she squirmed like his gaze was tickling her.

Then the form came back his way.

“Satisfied now?”

“My birthday’s next month. The tenth.”

April 10, just over a month away.

“I know.”

“Oh? Did I mention?”

“I asked Kaede.”

This was slightly pointed—Sakuta had not known when Mai’s birthday was, and she wasn’t making the same mistake. He pretended not to notice that dig, picking up the ballpoint pen and writing Sakuta Azusagawa on the husband side. He couldn’t remember ever writing his name so carefully in all his life.

“Which means I’m almost eighteen.”

“Make sure to vote, then.”

“I can also pay a visit to the license bureau.”

“If you submit this on your own, I will be furious.”

Eighteen was the legal marriageable age here.

“Seems like a small price to pay.”

“Then I’ll also break up with you.”

“Aww.”

“I’d rather do it together.”

She looked up through her lashes at him, hammering the point home. This was far too cute to argue with.

“Then you hold on to it,” he said, folding the application neatly. “I may not be able to resist.”

“But if I’m holding on to it, it won’t bring you luck.”

“It’s a marriage application with our names on it! I think you keeping it on your person at all times is clearly the best use for it.”

“Well, if you insist…but I’m not carrying it around with me.”

“Aww. It won’t benefit either of us that way!”

“Fine, okay. I’ll try to keep it close.”

Mai was clearly back to her usual self. She took out the script again and placed the form carefully between its pages.

“For now, I’m gonna have to talk to Futaba tomorrow, about the new scar and the girl on the beach.”

“Yes, that’s probably for the best. But first—”

Without getting up, Mai hefted her hips and swung them around the table, moving right next to Sakuta.

“Mai?”

“Show me it again.”

He didn’t waste time answering. The sweatshirt was gone.

“You can just pull it up, you know.”

But it was already off, so too late to argue.

“This isn’t like the last one,” she said, her face right next to his skin.

He could feel her breath on his side. It tickled, but if he said anything, she’d move away. He fought off the giggle.

“The previous scars were more like welts.”

Like cuts that had healed over. This was more like a big scrape that had formed a scab, but the scab had fallen off. Where the previous scars had looked like burns, this one was pale.

But with just the two of them in his room, and Mai this close to him, the scars were of little importance.

She was so close that all he had to do was reach out, and she’d be in his arms. He had his shirt off, but she’d come right over to him. He could almost feel her warmth in the air.

“……”

That sweet scent would not leave him alone.

“Why’d you go quiet?”

Mai looked up, frowning. Their eyes met, and her long lashes blinked twice. She was cute from a distance, but even cuter this close.

“This is definitely your fault,” Sakuta said.

“……?”

“I mean, it’s just the two of us.”

“……”

She caught his drift and looked evasive.

“…Fair. Maybe I shouldn’t be winding you up.”

Mai didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“Mai?”

“And Kaede’ll be out of the bath soon.”

“So?”

“…So just a kiss,” she said, her eyes turning back to him.

Mai’s eyes closed.

She had one hand on the floor, and he put his on top of it. She shivered. But her hand turned, and her fingers locked with his.

He leaned in close.

Aaaand then the phone rang. The landline, outside his door—echoing loudly in the living room.

“That’s for you.” Mai’s lips moved, but her eyes stayed closed.

“This is so not the time.”

He tightened his grip on her hand and moved his face closer.

“Sakuta! Phone!” Kaede yelled from the changing room. She was obviously out of the bath and could hear it ringing.

“Can you answer?” he shouted back.

“Argh!” she grumbled, but he heard her stomping toward the living room.

Finally, all threats handled—or so he thought.

“Sakuta! It’s Dad!” Kaede yelled.

“……”

“……”

By this point, the heat of the moment had long since dissipated. Mai cleared her throat and pulled away.

“You should get that,” she said, clearly a bit disappointed. She held up his sweatshirt.

He put it on and headed out to the living room, where he found Kaede waving at him to hurry up. She was only wearing a bath towel, hardly decent. Her hair was still dripping.

“You’ll catch a cold like that.”

“And whose fault is that?!”

She puffed out her cheeks at him and shoved the phone into his hands.

“What is it, Dad?”

As he answered, Kaede hustled off back to the changing room. She was leaving wet spots in her wake. Nasuno walked past, carefully avoiding them. Clever cat, taking care to prevent a secondary disaster.

“It’s about your mom.”

The voice on the line sounded tense.

“Okay…,” Sakuta said, bracing himself.

“They’ve given permission for her to recover at home.”

“Oh. Good, she’s getting better.”

“Yes. And when I told her about Kaede…she said she wanted to see her.”

“Mom said that?”

Like they were talking about anyone else. There’d been no change of subject. But Sakuta asked anyway because it had been two whole years since those words were even possible. The confirmation was just a reflex now.

“Yeah.” He could hear the nod in his father’s voice.

“Oh.”

He found his eyes turning to the display. It showed his father’s cell number.

“Mm.”

“Okay. Yeah.”

Sakuta felt eyes on him and looked up. Kaede was in her pajamas now, drying her hair with a towel.

“What’s up with Mom?” she asked.

She’d overheard enough to know who this was about. Her gaze showed a mix of curiosity, doubt, and anxiety.

“Hold on a sec, Dad.”

“Sure.”

Sakuta moved the receiver away from his ear, turning to Kaede.

“Uh, Kaede…”

“Wh-what?”

Mai came out of his room, clearly intrigued. He could see her hovering behind Kaede, but he kept his attention focused on his sister.

“Do you wanna see Mom?”

Her eyes went wide. “Yes,” she said, as if the answer were set in stone. “I want to go see her.”

Then she said it one more time, as if double-checking how she really felt.

“I want to see Mom again.”

She nodded to herself, and Sakuta put the phone back to his ear.

“Dad.”

“…I heard.”

There were tears in his father’s voice, but Sakuta wasn’t about to point that out.

“Okay,” he said.

That was all they needed now.