Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 9 - Chapter 3.3

3

The hall to the entrance was deserted. Classes had ended in the morning, and very few students were left in the building.

He could hear athletes yelling on the field and the band tooting away—the standard after-school sounds.

So Sakuta didn’t expect to meet anyone.

Until he found a girl standing by the shoe lockers.

“……”

Ikumi Akagi had her slippers in hand and shot him a guarded look.

“……”

He stared back, saying nothing.

Should he say something? He sure didn’t know what.

After a moment’s hesitation, he got his shoes out and changed into them. Then he put the slippers away.

“I took the log to the staff room,” Ikumi said, not looking at him.

“Mm?”

“You left it on the podium.”

“Isn’t that where it goes?”

“The teacher said to bring it down, way back in the spring.”

“Oh. My bad. Thanks.”

“Sure…”

Her eyes flicked his way once, and then she turned and left. Sakuta went with her. He’d already changed, so it felt weird to linger.

Ikumi made a beeline for the gate, and Sakuta quietly matched her pace.

“You seem fine with it, Akagi.”

He definitely wasn’t comfortable just calling her Akagi. He’d barely used her name back in junior high and would probably leave this world behind without it feeling right on his tongue. But that would serve this world well.

“Fine with what?”

“Talking to me.”

The rest of the class had clearly been avoiding him.

“I just know the stories aren’t true.”

She kept her head forward, one eye on the ground at her feet. Like she was consciously trying not to be conscious of him. He didn’t think he was imagining that. She probably wasn’t used to walking with boys. Maybe being less conscious of him than self-conscious.

“Why’d you come to Minegahara?”

There were plenty of public schools this good closer to their old school. Yokohama had a lot of schools, and there was no shortage to choose from.

He didn’t see any reason to pick a school over an hour away.

Ikumi stopped in her tracks not far from the school gates. The bells were ringing, and the crossing rails were coming down.

“……”

She wasn’t answering. Had he asked something awkward? Or was it more involved, like she was fine talking to him but didn’t want him talking to her?

Sakuta and Ikumi were the only people stuck at the crossing, waiting for the train to pass.

“……”

“……”

Despite the clamor of the bells, the silence weighed on him.

“Did you know the reason the lights and this clanging noise aren’t in sync is because by having them be separate systems, one will still function even if the other breaks?”

He’d asked Rio once when they were walking together, and she’d filled him in. Rio’s vast base of knowledge extended to the inner workings of railroad crossings.

“Azusagawa…”

The train rolled past. Ikumi’s lips didn’t move again. Like hesitancy had silenced her. Once the train had passed, they stayed pursed.

Eventually, the bells stopped ringing, and the gates went up.

“…Never mind,” she said, looking away. “That’s my train, so…”

And with that, she ran off ahead. Getting faster, headed for the station. She had great form. She didn’t give him time to stop her, but he felt that was probably for the best. She might not have put it in words, but he’d caught a good look at the emotion in her gaze…and heard that louder than anything she could have said.

“So that’s what Kunimi meant this morning.”

This world was clearly stacked in his favor. He’d saved his sister from bullying, kept his family together, and was still going to Minegahara despite the hour-plus commute. He and Mai were still together…and now there was Ikumi.

Having all that lined up together sure did make it seem like a fantasy world tailored for him specifically. Quite honestly, he was unconvinced he had this in him.

It made it seem like the real Sakuta was a disaster.

All alone now, he started walking, crossing the tracks himself.

He took his phone out of his backpack pocket and looked up a number in the contacts list.

Instead of turning toward the station, he kept going straight, headed for the beach below.

As he went down the gentle slope, he dialed his home number. The home he’d left that morning, where the four of them lived together happily.

He could hear it ringing. Once, twice, three times, nobody picking up.

His mother should be there, and Kaede—she was already on spring vacation. But five rings in, there was still no answer. Maybe they’d gone out shopping.

But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the ring cut off.

“What is it, Sakuta?”

His mom’s voice, answering with a question. Not a “Hello” or anything—the display must have told her it was him.

This was why he’d called, but having her answer still made him tense up.

“It’s not, like, a big deal, but…,” he managed.

“Mm.”

“Did I mention I’ll be back late tonight? I’ve got a shift.”

This wasn’t what he’d primed himself to say. But hearing his mother’s voice had led him to talk about normal stuff. She was acting normal, so he could, too.

“You said that last night.”

“I did?”

“That’s why I made you a lunch.”

He had no memories of this, but it seemed like she just assumed he forgot and laughed. Nothing mean about it. Just one of those things, and funny for all involved.

“I guess you’re right,” Sakuta said, laughing himself. It was only partially for show.

“Are you still half-asleep?” she asked, referencing his morning behavior.

“Feels like.”

“Is that all?”

He hadn’t really had a real reason for this call. He’d just felt like he should say something to her. Before he left this world. Before he went back to his own. Sakuta needed a good look at the mother he’d fled.

“I ate every bite of the lunch.”

So he picked a topic close at hand. Something he could talk about whenever but…likely never did.

He reached the bottom of the hill and got stuck at Route 134. Caught at a red light just before the beach.

“The rice was a bit mushy today, wasn’t it?”

“I feel like it was.”

Their family preferred it al dente.

“I must have put in too much water.”

“But since I was eating it cold, it might have worked well that way.”

“Yeah?”

“And the chicken was to die for.”

He remembered that flavor. When he made the dish himself, he always tried to get it to taste just like how his mom made it, but it never really worked out. There were similarities, but the differences outweighed them. He didn’t think he was doing it all that different…but something wasn’t right.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“I know you get up early to cook all the time. So thanks.”

His eyes were on the blue water beyond the red light. Locked on it.

“Seriously, what’s gotten into you?”

She seemed perplexed, but not in a bad way. It was a warm reaction. Maybe a tad uncomfortable with this kind of praise. It seemed a bit late to see this side of her. But like him, she was only human. A fact so obvious he should have worked it out long ago.

“Besides, I should be saying the same to you, Sakuta.”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

Sakuta didn’t know what that meant.

“For…?”

“For being a great brother.”

“A what now?”

He was acting like he didn’t get it, but it wasn’t hard to guess.

“You took care of Kaede.”

“……Mm,” he grunted. Exactly what he thought, and thus he couldn’t really respond. He hadn’t done anything of the kind. He hadn’t occupied any broadcast booths.

That feat belonged to this world’s Sakuta.

He himself hadn’t earned this praise yet.

“Ten thirty?”

Conversations with family could make leaps like this.

“Mm?”

“You’ll be home?”

“About then, yeah.”

His shift ran till nine. He’d have to change, take a few trains—half past ten sounded right.

“What should I have ready for you?”

“There any croquettes left?”

“Enough for tomorrow, too.”

She sounded proud.

“You made too many.”

The croquettes at breakfast had been intended for dinner the night before.

“We had too many potatoes, so we just used them up.”

That’s the sort of person she was. It was all coming back to him. Anytime she made curry or croquettes, her idea of balance went right out the window. They always wound up with enough for days.

If she did it back-to-back, they’d end up with croquettes Monday to Wednesday, and curry Thursday to Saturday. Like a dream come true. A life you wished was a dream.

“Text me when you hit the station, and I’ll give them a quick fry.”

“Got it.”

“Have fun at work.”

The conversation was headed for its natural conclusion.

“Uh, Mom…” So Sakuta stopped that.

“Yes?”

He had something to say. Something he had to say. But…

“Never mind,” he said, laughing awkwardly.

“Oh? Well, take care, then.”

“I will.”

She hung up.

His phone hand went limp, dangling. The light was still red. Beyond it lay the cloudless blue sky.

He’d wanted to say something. Had to say it. But it wasn’t this mom he had to say it to.

This was something he had to tell his mom, back in the world he came from.

The light finally turned green.

He put the phone in his backpack and looked right ahead, staring at the water before him.

When he hit the beach, his shoes sank into the sand. Walking here made him look like he was sneaking around. He made it about fifteen yards from the surf.

Where the sand just started to get damp.

From here, all he could see was the horizon, where the sky met the sea.

The sound of the waves wrapped around him.

The scent of salt filled the air.

That’s all there was.

He couldn’t hear the traffic on the road behind him or the laughter of the college girls horsing around nearby. The sound of the waves and the wind protected him.

And as his senses closed down, he began to feel like he was alone in the world.

His body felt less and less real.

He let himself bask in that sensation.

“Mister, are you lost again?”

That kid’s voice.

She was standing right next to him. With the same red knapsack. So tiny it looked like she could barely keep her balance with it.

The girl who looked like Mai in her child-actress years.

“I’m not lost anymore.”

“Why not?”

A very kid-like question. She was a kid, so it made sense.

“I know where home is,” he said, totally honest.

“You’re going there?”

“I am.”

“Why?”

This again.

“You could stay here forever,” she added, before he could answer.

“I could. This place is pretty nice.”

Kaede’s bullying had ended before it scarred her, and their mother was still happy. They all lived together. This world’s Sakuta was still dating Mai and had a rich, fulfilling life.

Nothing wrong with that. It was everything he’d ever wanted.

“But it’s a bit too nice.”

“Is nice bad?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“……?”

Her head tilted. She looked very confused.

“Everyone sorted themselves out.”

“Everyone?”

“Mai, Koga, Futaba, Toyohama, both Kaedes, Makinohara and Shouko…they all got through it themselves.”

Maybe not alone. Maybe they had help. But in the end, they moved on, of their own free will. Even though the path wasn’t easy. Even though it was paved with thorns. They got over their Adolescence Syndrome without running away. By peering into the depths of their own hearts.

That’s why…

“I’ve gotta handle Mom myself.”

Not have someone else solve it for him. Not run to a different potential world. With his own two hands.

“So I could use your help again,” he said, holding out his hand.

The girl stared at it for a moment. Like she was making up her mind. And as he looked her over, an idea floated into his mind.

Rio had said this girl didn’t fit into the rest of it, but maybe she was the weakness inside Sakuta. The child inside him.

Something he’d unconsciously created to help him deal with his mommy issues. She looked like Mai because that would make him honest.

He had no basis for this wild claim.

Rio might have laughed it off.

But to him, it made a certain kind of sense.

“You really do want to go home.”

“Yeah. Literally what I said.”

“But if you go back there, everyone’s forgotten you.”

She peered up at him fixedly. Beautiful eyes, like crystallized purity. They seemed to look right through him.

“But I want to go back.”

“You’re sure?” she asked, as if looking for any sign of doubt.

“I’m sure.”

“You promise?”

“Pinkie promise.”

He didn’t flee or draw back from that purity. He met her gaze and held it, seeing himself reflected in her eyes.

“Okay. Then I’ll help.”

She took his hand and held it tight.

“Just help?”

“You got here on your own. I just told you that you could.”

She looked proud of herself, but he didn’t really know what she meant.

But he didn’t need to.

This was the last time, anyway. And since it was, maybe they should talk about something else. Back in his world, with his Adolescence Syndrome resolved, he’d probably never see this girl again. And since they’d met, he’d been meaning to tell her something.

“I know it’s a bit late.”

“What?”

“But I’m not old enough to be considered a ‘mister.’”

He said this so seriously, and she laughed out loud. An innocent, delighted laugh. Smile broad enough to show her teeth. Her voice rising to the sky above.

And that was all. His mind slipped away from him. In the blink of an eye, like a TV turning off.