Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 9 - Chapter 2.1

Chapter 2 - The Shapte of A Bond

1

The next day was Sunday, March 15, and the dawn brought cloudy skies and scattered drizzles.

Sakuta and Kaede got up at eight and worked their way through a breakfast of toast, eggs, yogurt, and orange juice.

When they were done, they did the dishes and turned on the TV to hide how quiet the room was. A review of the week’s big news, sports highlights, and the latest in entertainment washed over them, leaving very little impression.

Just before eleven, Sakuta said, “Time we got ready.”

It was almost time to visit their mother.

“Right,” Kaede said, nodding a bit too much. She was tense. Her movements were stiff as she went to her room. Once she was out of sight, Sakuta headed to his own room.

He stripped out of his indoor clothes and put on a T-shirt and jeans, with a hoodie over the top. The weather lady had said they were in for some warm spring weather, so he probably wouldn’t need a jacket.

Back in the living room, Sakuta realized Kaede was still holed up. He could hear noises that suggested she was still changing.

A good five minutes later, she finally emerged. She had on a dress with straps over the shoulders, and a basic cardigan over that. A look with one toe in “grown-up.” Nothing flashy, but clearly dressed to impress.

“I-it’s not weird, is it?” she asked the moment their eyes met. She still looked very tense.

“Only your face,” he said.

“I’m asking about the clothes!”

Even her scowl was tense.

“Mai gave you those?”

“Mm.”

“Then no way they’re weird.”

“Sometimes things look good on her and not on me.”

“We’d better head out.”

Ignoring her protestations, he headed for the door.

“Augh, wait up!”

She came running after him. He paused long enough for her to get her shoes on, then reached for the door handle.

He just had to open it like he always did. But it sure felt different today. Today, this would lead them to their mother. For the first time in two years.

He opened the door.

Drops pattering down around them, Sakuta matched Kaede’s pace on the hill from their apartment. They were walking a bit farther apart than normal so their umbrellas wouldn’t bump. They took it one step at a time to the station.

From below, the sound of rain drumming their umbrellas was awfully loud. It wasn’t even raining that hard. But there were no other noises around, so the patter really stood out.

He thought he heard Kaede say something.

“Mm?” he asked.

“I said, it sure is raining.”

She tilted her umbrella to one side, peering up at the sky. She seemed disappointed.

Today was a big day.

To most people, it might be just another Sunday, but for the two of them, it was probably the biggest day in years. Kaede had been hoping for sunshine.

“Dad said it’s a good thing. No allergies.”

“Oh. Maybe true.”

Kaede forced herself to agree, then glanced up at him, smiling awkwardly. The stress she’d shown at home was still there; her smile wasn’t usually this strained.

As if trying to settle her nerves, she said, “Sakuta.”

“Mm?”

“We’re passing through Yokohama Station on the way, right?”

“Yep.”

A station that seemed to be permanently under construction. Probably less “never finished” and more “constantly evolving.” He hoped he’d see it completed at least once in his lifetime.

“What about it?”

“I wanna bring Mom some pudding. The kind from the basement there, in the beaker.”

“Oh, the one with the hard-boiled guy on the side.”

When they were little, every time they went shopping at Yokohama Station, they’d always brought that home with them. The chain had started in Hayama or Zushi, but they had a branch inside a Yokohama department store.

“Mom really liked those.”

“Oh? I thought you were the one who liked them.”

“I do! But Mom does, too.”

“If you say so.”

Miwako had just made him realize how little he knew about his parents, and now it was dawning on him how little he knew about what his mother even liked. He had a vague idea she liked pumpkin, but he’d never actually asked. It had never even occurred to him to do so, and that had never been a problem before.

“So I wanna share them with her again.”

“Got it.”

She’d likely be delighted. At the very least, she’d know why Kaede brought them.

“Also, Sakuta…”

“Some siumai?”

These Chinese dumplings had been a staple on their dining table after Yokohama visits. They were good even cold.

“Oh, I do want to have those again. But no, that’s not it.”

“Then what?”

“……”

She’d brought it up, but Kaede just stared at the ground for a minute, not saying the next thing. Just watching one foot move after the other. He glanced at her profile, and she looked extra anxious.

So he knew right away why.

“Mom’s the one who suggested this. It’ll be okay,” he said, watching the road ahead for the both of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch.

He kept his eyes faced front.

“How’d you know, Sakuta?”

“It was written all over your face.”

“What did it say?”

“‘It’s my fault Mom’s had such a hard time. What if she holds it against me?’”

She was likely worrying that their reunion would be mean, spiteful, or hostile. It wasn’t Kaede’s fault the bullies had come after her, but those events had been the straw that broke their mother…and that fact was undeniable.

And Kaede’s guilt was seated pretty deep. He couldn’t just tell her not to feel that way.

Misfortune had brought them to this point, but once you start blaming your own weakness, it’s hard to shake that notion.

Kaede certainly couldn’t do it alone.

She’d always be left wondering if they’d still be living together if she’d been stronger, if she’d managed to beat the bullies.

“Mom’s really not mad at me?”

“She might be mad if she heard you saying that.”

“……”

“I sure would be.”

“Mm…”

That brought Kaede’s head up at last, but her anxiety remained. Even if he’d eased her fears a bit, she was still really stressed out about this visit.

He didn’t blame her.

That’s just how big the rift in their family was. A two-year gulf. You couldn’t just hop over it and suddenly be happy.

So Kaede’s nerves stayed raw all the way to Fujisawa Station and didn’t ease up on the train ride to Yokohama. When they got off at Yokohama Station, they swung by the department store and bought pudding and siumai (because why not), and she was smiling, but it was very strained.

The closer they got to their destination, the less she was talking. After boarding the Keihin-Tohoko Line, she stopped speaking almost entirely.

“We’ll be switching trains at the next stop.”

“……”

She was just silently nodding now.

They got off at Higashi-Kanagawa Station and switched to the Yokohama Line, which took them all the way to Hachioji. The Yokohama Line was a pretty weird name for a line that didn’t actually stop at Yokohama Station. There were actually a number of through service trains running on the line that did stop there, but…if you didn’t know that, it was kinda confusing.

Kaede sat down in the empty carriage, holding the box of pudding carefully. Her eyes were on the windows, but she likely wasn’t seeing any of it. Her head was probably filled with thoughts of their mother.

Sakuta decided not to say anything. He thought she’d be okay even if she didn’t. She might be nervous, but she was past the point where that could stop her.

She might not be going fast, but she was moving toward their mother at her own pace. Of her own free will.

It was a ten-minute ride on a silver train with a yellow-green line on the side. Outside, they could see a huge building coming up. Round and tall, clearly not an office or an apartment tower.

This was the International Stadium Yokohama, where the Japan national soccer team played and where the World Cup final had been held. Nowadays, it was called Nissan Stadium. The lack of any other large buildings around really made it loom.

When the train pulled into Kozukue Station—the closest stop to the stadium—Sakuta said, “Here,” and they got off.

Outside the gates, they headed to the south exit, away from the stadium. They reached the main thoroughfare and turned right, then followed the road for a while.

The rain was coming down harder now. Drops splattering on the pavement made their shoes wet. Kaede didn’t grumble at all and just huddled under her umbrella, doing her best to keep the pudding dry. Like a mother bird trying to keep her eggs warm in a chilly breeze.

He knew she was really looking forward to eating pudding with their mom again. And wasn’t about to let a little rain ruin that.

They followed the road for a while, and then he signaled a right turn into an alley.

“Almost there.”

“……Mm.”

True to his word, Sakuta led them about five yards farther. The muddy ground squished beneath their feet.

“Here?”

Kaede stopped short, looking up at the building. It was an old three-story apartment building. The exterior had been given a fresh coat of paint, but the outdoor stairs and the general vibe made it clear it had been built a long time ago.

This was Sakuta’s second time here.

He’d visited once, shortly after they’d started living apart, figuring he should at least know where his dad lived. His father had said the building was worker housing, built forty years ago.

With no elevator, they had to climb the stairs to the third floor.

Outside unit 301 was a tiny card reading AZUSAGAWA.

“Ready?” he asked, finger hovering over the doorbell.

“N-not yet!” she said, a momentary panic washing over her.

“Okay,” he said, ringing the doorbell anyway.

“S-Sakuta!” Kaede wailed, looking betrayed.

“The longer we draw it out, the harder it’ll be.”

If waiting made people relaxed, they’d never be stressed in the first place.

“I—I guess…,” she said, clearly not entirely convinced. “But you’re the one who asked.”

She would’ve yelled at him if he hadn’t, too. That’s why he’d paid lip service to it. Clearly, she hadn’t realized how considerate her brother was. How sad.

As he lamented this, he heard the latch turn, and the door swung inward.

“You get wet?” their dad asked, stepping out. It was his day off, but he was in a dress shirt and slacks. If he put a tie on, he’d be ready for work.

“Even my socks are soaked,” Sakuta said.

Their dad held the door open for them, and Sakuta waved Kaede in ahead.

She stepped inside, and Sakuta followed her. The door closed. They took off their shoes and socks, and their dad put out slippers for them. They wore them barefoot.

“Thanks for having us,” Kaede whispered, so quietly no one could hear.

Their dad lived here, so in a sense this was their house, too. But it didn’t smell like home, and that made it feel like they didn’t belong. Like they were visiting a stranger’s house.

Their father seemed a little unsure of himself, too, but he quickly got his wits together and led them farther in. Today was about other things.

“Dear, Kaede and Sakuta are here,” he called.

There were curtains hanging between the entrance and the main room, blocking the view.

“……”

He could feel Kaede tensing up again.

Hoping to loosen her back up, he moved up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Sakuta felt them twitch, and she looked back at him.

“Come on,” he said.

“……Mm.”

Once she answered, he gave her a little push.

It was a two-bedroom apartment. A short hall led away from the entrance, with the dining room just past the curtains.

And Kaede stepped in under her own power.

On the other side of the curtains was a dining table and chairs, and a woman seated at it. She looked a bit worn-out. Thinner than Sakuta remembered her. For a moment, she seemed smaller, but the way her hair flowed over her shoulders was the same—it was unmistakably their mother.

“Mom,” Kaede said.

Their mother’s gaze rose from the table. It flickered right and left, then landed on Kaede.

“Mom,” she said again. Louder this time.

“Kaede…”

Her voice was a rasp. If he hadn’t been listening for it, he might have missed it. But Sakuta heard it, their dad heard it, and so did Kaede.

“Mm. It’s me, Mom.”

Kaede took a step closer. Then another. She put the box of pudding down on the table and then went around it to their mother, reaching out and taking her hands.

“Mom…,” she said, tears in her voice. Like she’d forgotten all other words, she kept saying it. Like she was trying to make up for two years of not ever saying the word.

Their mother nodded every time.

“Mom…”

“Mm…”

“Mom…”

“Mm…”

“Mom.”

“Kaede, that’s all you’ve said.”

“I know…”

“You’re so tall now.”

“Yeah.”

Their mother grabbed a towel and dried the tears from her daughter’s face.

“You cut your hair,” she said, putting her hands on Kaede’s shoulders and looking her over.

“Is it weird?” Kaede messed with her locks.

“No. It’s much more grown-up.”

Kaede looked relieved, embarrassed, and glad.

“Um, I had it done at a place Mai recommended—uh, Mai is Sakuta’s girlfriend. He’s got one! Shocking, right? Anyway…”

Once the words started, Kaede couldn’t be stopped. Words and feelings came tumbling out of her.

Two years, they’d lived apart.

Four more months since Kaede had overcome her dissociative disorder.

That was a lot of time, and a lot had happened to her. She’d made it back to school. Struggled with exams. Chosen her own future. A whole stockpile of “things I did today” that she always used to tell her mom.

She could talk and talk and never run out. Never be at a loss for words.

They’d been told it was best to keep this first visit to an hour or two, but when Sakuta first thought to check the clock, it was already way past that. They’d already been here three whole hours.

Kaede had been talking the whole time, but now her stomach was growling.

“It’s a bit early, but let’s have dinner,” their mother said.

And for the first time in ages, the four of them sat down together. Their father helped Sakuta cook, and they warmed up the siumai he’d brought, too.

Even during dinner, Kaede never stopped talking. “I wanna eat your croquettes again, Mom. I’ll help make them!” and “That sounds good. Let’s do that.” They just kept heating up. It felt like the time that had been frozen between them was thawing again.

For dessert, they had the pudding Kaede had carried here so carefully.

“That is good.”

“Mm, really.”

Both their mother and Kaede, enjoying the reminder of the old times, suddenly teared up without warning. They were being a family again.

Their mother looked so much healthier to Sakuta than she had when they arrived. There was life in her eyes again.

Not long ago, he hadn’t dared hope a day like this would come. Just being a normal family again had seemed so far away.

But Kaede was trying to change that, trying to get back what they’d lost.

And that made Sakuta so, so happy.

Before they knew it, it was past eight.

Sakuta and his father did the dishes, and when they finished, Kaede was still chattering away, telling her mother all about where she chose to go to high school.

Nobody seemed inclined to wrap things up.

Their father must have figured that was his job. Just before nine, he said, “It’s getting awfully late…”

Perhaps their mother’s answer was inevitable.

“Why don’t you stay the night?”

She was smiling at Kaede.

“Can I?” Kaede asked.

“Of course.”

“Sakuta…?”

Kaede seemed unsure if it was her choice to make, and she turned to Sakuta and their father. Sakuta looked at their dad, making sure. From what he’d seen of their mother, Kaede spending the night didn’t seem like a big deal. There was a chance it could even be a good thing.

Junior high graduation was over. No classes tomorrow. Kaede was on spring vacation. Nobody would yell at her for spending the night with her family.

Their dad thought for a moment and said, “Sure, let’s do that.”

They wanted to respect their mother’s wishes.

“Sakuta?” Kaede asked.

“I’m going to head back. Gotta feed Nasuno.”

And he did have school. They’d likely only get the grades for last week’s exams back…but even so, they couldn’t exactly leave their cat to fend for herself.

“You could bring Nasuno here.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Great.”

“You can bring her next time,” their father said.

“This place allows pets?”

Worker housing often didn’t.

“If I explain in advance, they’ll probably allow it for one night.”

That was a roundabout way of saying no.

“Then I’d better go,” Sakuta said, standing up.

“Take care.”

“You look after Mom.”

“Got it.”

He moved to the door and put his shoes on.

“I’ll come again, Mom,” he called before stepping outside. He managed to remember his umbrella.

His father put sandals on and followed him down.

“It stopped raining.”

There were still clouds above, but nothing was falling from them.

The air felt fresh, like all the grime in it had been washed away.

“Thanks, Sakuta.”

“Mm.”

He wasn’t sure what he was being thanked for but figured having it spelled out would just be embarrassing.

But even so, he kinda got it. All four of them had been together. It might just have been a few hours, but it was a time they’d thought would never come again. That may not have seemed like much to people who didn’t know them, but for Sakuta’s family, it was downright miraculous. He was pretty sure that was what prompted his father’s gratitude.

Simple words could mean so much.

“Tell that to Kaede.”

“I will.”

“She’ll be thrilled.”

“Yeah.”

“……”

“……”

“I’d better go.”

He started walking.

“Sakuta,” his dad called.

“Mm?”

“I’ve been meaning to give you this,” he said, holding out a dull silver key.

“For…?” Sakuta glanced up at the apartment above.

“Yeah. You might need it.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He took the key, still warm from his father’s touch. Then he waved. This time he really was leaving.

“Take care.”

“Look after Mom and Kaede.”

They kept it simple, and Sakuta headed for the station. He knew his father watched him till he was out of sight. But he didn’t turn back until he was safe around the corner.

He didn’t know what state his face would have been in, and his father likely wouldn’t have known how to respond, either.

But Sakuta moved forward, feeling a bit more positive than usual.

That elation stayed with him the whole way home.

On the way to the station.

During the wait for the train.

While changing to the other line.

As he watched the scenery pass outside.

His body was so filled with joy, he felt heat throbbing inside, filling him with energy, filling his sails.

But it was very different from the joy that makes you want to impulsively break into a run or shout out loud.

It was something so foreign to him that his mind and body were slowly going out of control.

How sad was that?

Something good had happened, and he was so startled he couldn’t even savor the afterglow properly.

In that sense, he was glad Kaede had wound up spending the night. He wasn’t sure if he should really talk to her in this condition. No matter what they talked about, he was sure his head wouldn’t be in it.

He quietly laughed at himself for this. If he let that show, the other passengers would think he was a weirdo, so he acted like nothing was going on and simply stood by the door, staring out the window. All the way to Fujisawa.

When he got off the train, he checked the clock on the platform. It was almost ten.

He avoided the line for the escalator and took the stairs instead.

Kaede was probably still talking to their mother. Or maybe they were getting the bath ready. They might well bathe together, like they used to.

His mind on these things, he took one step at a time.

In a single day, the two-year gap had been filled in. Kaede had connected with their mother so easily, it was like they had never been apart in the first place.

Because they were family.

“Maybe we’ll end up living together again.”

That day could come far faster than he thought. The warm smiles he’d seen today made it feel like that future was close at hand.

Kaede smiling, half crying. Their mother wiping the tears welling up in her eyes as she listened. With their hands clasped together, the two of them were constantly smiling, crying, then smiling again. Over and over. Their father so moved by the sight, he nearly teared up himself and grinned to hide it, then excused himself to the bathroom when that stopped working. So much warmth.

What Sakuta had seen, what he’d felt—those were family bonds.

Outside the gates, on the walk back home, even when he swung by a convenience store—the rush stayed with him.

Back in his apartment, he said, “I’m back,” and took off his shoes, feeling a little relieved. When they’d left that morning, things had been so tense—but that vibe was gone now.

Nasuno heard him enter and peeked out of the living room, meowing.

“I’m back, Nasuno. You hungry?”

“Mrow.”

He washed his hands, gargled, and moved into the living room. Nasuno was rubbing against his feet, so he poured some kibble into her bowl.

She started working her way through it, and he watched her eat for a bit, but before long, he was remembering the day he’d had and was fidgeting again.

Clearly, getting home wasn’t enough to settle him down.

As if that wasn’t enough proof, Mai called after her bath, and somehow they ended up talking for a full half hour. These calls never went more than ten minutes, tops.

He’d told Mai ahead of time that they were visiting his mother today, so he gave her the rundown on how it went.

He mentioned how nervous Kaede had been on the way. She’d been stressed out about the reunion since the night before, or possibly ever since it had been first mentioned.

So Sakuta had been certain there’d be a long, awkward silence once they met. He’d been wrong. Kaede hadn’t needed Sakuta or their father to help; she’d dived right in, connecting with her mother again and doing everything possible to make up for the two years they’d missed.

And as he told Mai about it, the time flew by.

Mai clung to every word.

“Kaede did good,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad.”

This mattered to her, too. He could feel that through the phone. It was very Mai to share in this joy of his. She was just as thrilled that Kaede and her mother had made it work. And Sakuta was overjoyed that she was thinking of them.

“Sorry, Mai, I kinda rambled for a bit. Thanks, though.”

“Don’t worry about it. I wanted to know. Besides, I already prepped for the shoot tomorrow.”

She had all her lines memorized.

“You’ll be back Thursday?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I’ll be waiting with eyes peeled.”

He threw in a hint of their usual banter to wrap things up.

“Good night, Sakuta.”

“Good night.”

And the call came to a close.