Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 9 - Chapter 2.3

3

The train from Fujisawa Station was so empty, almost no one was standing up. The morning rush had passed, but it was too early for lunch.

The vibe on board was real laid-back.

Sakuta was the only one standing up in his car. There were still empty seats around, and he could easily have found a place to sit. Everyone loved sitting in corners, but there were still a few available.

But he never considered it.

He was too nervous.

He huddled at the edge of the doorframe, watching the landscape scroll by. Doing his best to focus his mind outward.

Digging deeper inside himself would mean facing the stress in the pit of his stomach. Would mean figuring out just what that was.

But staring out the window wasn’t enough to make him forget how nervous he was about seeing his mother again.

The proof? In his pocket, Sakuta’s hand was clenched tight around the key. The one his father had given him before he left last night. He’d stuck it in his key holder with the key to their Fujisawa apartment, to make sure he didn’t lose it.

He realized he had a death grip on the key when the train reached Yokohama Station and he got out. He’d tried to switch to his train pass and found the impression of the key imprinted on his palm. It was hard not to notice.

Like the day before, he rode the Keihin-Tohoko Line for a single station, then switched to the Yokohama Line at Higashi-Kanagawa. Only ten more minutes to his destination.

This car was even emptier than the one on the Tokaido Line, but once more, he didn’t consider sitting down. The tension in his guts was too constricting, and he thought standing made him feel marginally better.

The train made several stops, but few people got on or off. With no signs of any hustle or bustle, the train reached Kozukue Station.

The doors opened, and he slipped out through the gap, the first to disembark. He ran down the stairs, reaching the gates before anyone else.

Out the south entrance, down to the main throughfare, then along that for a while.

This was the path he’d taken yesterday.

He’d been nervous then, too.

But nothing like this.

He could feel his breath growing short as he neared the house.

Air came in and in, but he got no oxygen from it.

He couldn’t inhale more without exhaling, and that frustrated him, throwing the whole rhythm of his breathing off.

He walked slower, trying to get his emotions under control, but his legs felt funny, and he could barely walk. Like this wasn’t his body. Almost like someone else was in control.

He saw the landmark and turned right into the alley. Five more yards, and he’d reach the building his father lived in. He could see the walls already.

Four more yards. Three. Two… He could see in the entrance now. And there…

“……Ah!”

A gasp of surprise escaped his lips.

People were coming out of the building. Two of them. He knew them both.

One was Kaede.

And the other was their mother.

Kaede was clinging to their mother’s arm, chattering away.

She seemed to be having a great time. Grinning her head off.

Their mother was smiling, too.

They must’ve been going shopping. They turned toward Sakuta as they approached the main road.

Once they got closer, he could hear them.

“For croquettes, you start by boiling potatoes, right?”

“Yes, and once they’re fully cooked, you mix them with sautéed ground beef and onions.”

They were almost on him.

“It’s a lot of work?”

“But I’ve got you to help me today, Kaede.”

“R-right! I’ll do what I can!”

They were right here. Less than three yards away.

Sakuta was standing stock-still in the middle of the alley. No matter how into the topic they were, if they could see him at all, they would have by now. They’d have looked his way. It would be downright weird not to.

There was no one here but the three of them. Kaede and their mother weren’t exactly blending into the background, and neither was Sakuta.

But they just brushed right past him, chatting about croquettes. So smoothly, it was like he didn’t exist at all.

He turned, watching them move away.

His mouth opened, trying to call after them.

“……”

But no words formed. He couldn’t bring himself to say their names.

He just stood there in the middle of the alley, watching his sister and mother round the corner and vanish from his sight. Just watched them go.

That was when the fear hit him. He could feel tendrils of it growing in the pit of his stomach, entwining themselves throughout his body.

Trying to shake that off, he turned back to the old workers’ housing. Taking the stairs two at a time to the third floor.

He only stopped running when he was outside the door marked AZUSAGAWA.

Breathing heavily, he used the key his father had given him the day before. Dragging his tired legs inside, he cast off his shoes. Couldn’t be bothered to line them up.

He’d just been here yesterday.

The four of them had sat in this living room.

Together for the first time in two years.

Yesterday the room had smelled unfamiliar, but today it was the opposite.

They’d been a warm, loving family again.

For one day only, but a day that mattered.

He refused to believe that was the cause. A moment like that would never trigger Adolescence Syndrome.

And yet he also couldn’t imagine what else might be behind this.

What happened must have been yesterday—when they’d seen their mother again.

Feeling a pang of guilt, like he was sneaking into a stranger’s house, he opened a set of sliding doors and entered the next room over.

A bare-bones room, with a tatami floor.

A pair of futons folded in the corner. This must’ve been where Kaede and their mother had slept.

The only other thing here was an old dresser with a mirror on top.

Sakuta found a notebook in front of the mirror. The same kind he used at school. Your standard college-ruled notebook.

There was nothing on the cover, so he had no idea what was inside until he opened it.

But the moment he did, he knew it was their mother’s diary.

Neat letters on every page, in a hand he barely recognized.

The first entry was more than two years old. The dates jumped a lot, leaving gaps as long as a month.

The length of the entries varied, too. Some filled the page, some ended after a line or two. Those were the majority.

Kaede’s getting bullied, and I can’t do anything.

I’m failing my own daughter.

That was the first page.

And it hit him hard.

Sakuta had never heard what she felt or thought in her own words. Given the symptoms of Kaede’s Adolescence Syndrome, there wasn’t really time to casually sit and talk things over.

So only now, with it right here in plain words…did the sheer weight of it hit him.

Every entry was filled with regret, showing how their mother had been at a complete loss as to how to help Kaede.

The first half of the notebook was relentlessly bleak.

I was never a mother.

What would lead someone to write that?

There was nothing before or after it. A lump stuck in his throat. Sakuta felt like something was reaching up from the floor, threatening to drag him down.

I told Kaede it would all be okay.

Nothing is okay. But what else could I say?

I’m a horrible mother.

Every word felt like a stake through the heart. A pain in his chest that echoed through his whole body.

But he didn’t tear his eyes away. Didn’t stop himself from reading more. Perhaps couldn’t would be more accurate.

For the simple reason that he’d reached the back half, and the entries began to change.

I miss Kaede.

I want to tell her how sorry I am.

To be a proper mother to her.

And Sakuta wanted to know more about these feelings. If only to ease the remorse he felt for sneaking a peek at his mother’s darkest moments. In the hopes of ending things on a brighter note.

But he was also motivated by a very different emotion. His own negative feelings.

Something had grown all too obvious.

A clear concern born from the words in the back half.

Something his mother’s diary never mentioned.

Not even once.

At first, it was a small doubt, but the more he read, the stronger it got. When he hit March 15—yesterday—it became a certainty.

Kaede’s become such a wonderful girl.

She’s really grown up.

I’m so happy.

This time, I’m going to be a mother to her.

Kaede said we could do it together.

The three of us, living together. I’d love that.

I’ll have to make it happen.

“……”

He didn’t know what to say.

He wasn’t feeling much of anything.

There was a name his mother’s diary had never once mentioned.

And that name was Sakuta.

He wasn’t sure when that had started.

But seeing this, it made things obvious.

Yesterday.

He hadn’t been imagining it.

It wasn’t no coincidence. It hadn’t just happened.

He’d noticed now. He knew.

The truth.

All day long, her eyes had never once met his.

Not even once.

Her eyes never saw him.

Her smile never once turned his way.

Every smile their mother managed had been for Kaede or their father.

“…That explains it.”

A chill ran down his spine.

His heart shaking, shivering in the cold.

Not because his mother couldn’t perceive him.

That wasn’t that big a deal.

What truly scared Sakuta was that they’d been together for hours, and he hadn’t even noticed that she never once said his name. He’d been there, acting like part of the family, without once realizing that his own mother couldn’t see him.

How long had it been like that?

Since she last perceived him?

Since she forgot he existed?

And he’d been acting normal, unaware that was even a thing.

Convinced he was happy.

It didn’t matter how long.

There was no use wondering about the past.

What mattered was now.

How did he feel about his mother?

What emotions did Sakuta have?

That felt like a much bigger deal.

Nodoka had asked him once.

 “How do you feel about your mom?”

Sakuta had given her some sort of answer. Probably something dumb like “I think she’s my mom.” And he’d meant it at the time. He hadn’t been lying to her.

 “There’s gotta be more. Love ’em, hate ’em, can’t stand ’em, wish they’d get off your back, et cetera.”

He’d said, “Probably all of those.” Nodoka had been dealing with her own mom-based issues, so he’d almost certainly been playing to that.

But that wasn’t all.

He could only admit loving or hating someone after genuinely feeling that way. After those emotions had passed through him. Gone out the other end and been left behind in the past.

At best, Sakuta had already gotten over his mother’s absence. But that likely wasn’t the truth. It was more like…he’d compartmentalized it. Convinced himself to give up.

He and the new Kaede had moved to Fujisawa, and fending for themselves was all he could handle. He’d made up his mind there was nothing he could do about their mother’s condition, and he sealed away every thought of it. Unconsciously cutting her loose. Abandoning her.

And two years later, his mother’s absence was normal for him. He’d gotten used to it, even found it comfortable.

That was why he’d had no clue how to come back. How to talk to her again. He didn’t have those answers. And that was why this was happening to him.

And she couldn’t even see him. Couldn’t tell he was there. The world had taken stock of their problem and altered itself accordingly. Now nobody could tell Sakuta was there.

Proving that his mother’s perceptions weren’t wrong. Making it so his relationship with her was free of all deception.

She’d brought Sakuta into this world.

And if she couldn’t perceive him, that arguably meant he really didn’t exist.

A stabbing pain ran through his side. Right where his new scar wound around his flank. He rolled up his shirt, and that white mark was still there, from his side to his belly button.

Or maybe the other way around. Given the situation, it probably started at the belly button.

Where he’d been linked to his mother at birth.

He touched it but felt nothing, like the pain was all in his mind.

Before his darker thoughts could swallow him any further, he quietly closed his mother’s diary. He put it back by the mirror where he’d found it.

“This is so not funny,” he said, but he couldn’t help but laugh.

He let out a long, long breath, one with no clear emotion behind it. It didn’t even count as a sigh. It was just an exhalation.

His heart was silent.

Like it wasn’t even beating.

He’d felt like he was handling their life in Fujisawa pretty well. Living apart from his parents, away from the only home he’d ever known, starting over in a place where they knew nobody. Maybe he hadn’t gotten everything right, but he’d given himself a passing grade.

He’d done well.

And never doubted that.

But there’d been a sacrifice behind that self-satisfaction. He’d earned that passing grade at the expense of his mother’s existence.

“…Can you blame me?”

What choice had he had?

His emotions were a pitch-black vortex. Whirling around his insides, they tormented him, keeping him stuck in place.

This wasn’t regret over the choices he’d made. He’d done everything he could. He’d suffered, agonized, and cried over what he couldn’t do, but Sakuta knew he’d accepted that, gotten over it, and become who he was today.

He’d learned that true happiness lay in the little joys of life and begun striving toward kindness. He knew what mattered and had people who mattered to him.

But now he’d learned that might have been a mistake, and having that error shoved in his face was not something he could just accept.

He wanted to believe he’d made the right choice, that he’d done nothing wrong. But he felt like that desire was a sign of a deeper flaw, and it unsettled him.

To approve of his own actions meant accepting that he’d cut his mother loose.

“……”

Sorting out his emotions was impossible. Fully coming to terms with either side of this issue was beyond him at the moment. He couldn’t decide which way to go, and his feet stayed glued to the tatami.

Eventually, there was a noise from the entrance. A click of a lock turning, and a voice calling, “We’re home.”

Kaede came in, grocery bags rustling.

Sakuta went back into the living room and found his mother and sister setting laden grocery bags down on the dining room table.

“That was so heavy, Kaede. Are your arms okay?”

“I can handle it!”

“You’ve gotten strong.”

“Anyone my age can carry this much!”

The bags were full of potatoes, ground meat, and onions. And bread crumbs, flour, eggs, tonkatsu sauce, even lettuce and tomatoes. Their mother was already telling Kaede what needed to go in the fridge.

Once they’d put everything away, she said, “Should we get started?”

“Okay!”

Kaede was all smiles, and their mother put an apron on her.

“I can tie it myself!” Kaede protested, but she didn’t try to stop her.

They started cooking.

Ingredients for croquettes had to be prepared.

First, they washed and peeled the potatoes. Kaede used a peeler while their mother smoothly peeled the whole skin in one go with a knife.

“You’re so good at this, Mom!”

Kaede was comparing her own work with her mom’s. Her potato was all bumpy.

“If you practice, you’ll get this good in no time.”

Their mother smiled, pleased by the praise.

Once the potatoes were peeled, they chopped them into chunks so they’d cook through, then put them in a bowl of cold water.

“Why do we do this?”

“It makes them taste better.”

“Huh.”

While the potatoes were soaking, they chopped the onions and fried those up with the ground beef.

Once that was done, they boiled the potatoes. When the potatoes were fully cooked, they used a big spoon to crush them. Kaede kept going, “They’re so hot!” It was plain to see that she was having fun.

Once they mixed in the meat and onions, the croquette filling was complete. Now they just had to ball that up, coat it, and deep-fry it.

As they worked, their conversation never faltered. Kaede had never made croquettes before and was struggling, but their mother kept smiling and coaching her through it. Anyone could see how close they were.

Sakuta watched the whole thing from the living room. Neither of them ever noticed he was there.

They got the rice cooker going, made a salad, had everything ready for dinner—but never spotted him.

It was the same when Kaede was helping take in the laundry from the rack on the balcony. They sat together, watching the evening news and waiting for Kaede and Sakuta’s father to get home, without either of them realizing Sakuta existed. Neither of them ever mentioned him.

Their dad got back just past six. The three of them sat down at the dining room table together and ate croquettes.

“They’re good.”

“They are!”

“Kaede worked real hard on them.”

Everyone had a good time. Nobody said anything so funny they had to laugh out loud, but their dad, their mom, and Kaede all enjoyed themselves, smiling happily the whole time.

They were the kind of ideal family you would see in a refrigerator commercial. Sakuta had long hoped they could be like this again one day.

Only one thing was wrong with it.

Sakuta had no place here. And that made all the difference.

“……”

Without a word, he left the living room. He didn’t know what to say.

He put his shoes on.

He opened the door quietly and left without his family noticing.

As the door closed behind him, he heard laughter from the living room.

He took the key out of his pocket and put it in the lock.

For a second, he hesitated—then he turned the key, as if locking something away inside his heart.

It made a metallic click.