1

Sakuta Azusagawa was walking beneath the skies of Shichirigahama.

It was Sunday, April 9.

A beautiful day.

The sun was gradually sinking in the west.

There were still plenty of spaces in the parking lot by the beach.

The tourists around him had their phones out, snapping pictures of Enoshima in the distance. Only Sakuta had his back to the water. His gaze was locked on the chic café in the center of the parking lot.

“Welcome!”

When he opened the door, a cheery greeting echoed through the interior. The voice was very familiar.

Miori stood behind the counter, wearing an apron.

Her eyes met his, and her mouth twisted grumpily. But only for a moment—before he made it to the counter, she was back in her role as a friendly café worker.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked, like she didn’t know him.

“I’ll have an iced caffe latte and the loco moco bowl,” Sakuta said, undaunted.

“Will there be anything else?”

“So, Mitou…”

“If you’ve come all the way to my workplace, I assume you’ve found a way to see Touko?”

She jumped ahead of him, getting right to the heart of the matter.

“I have,” he said, not batting an eye. Saying what he had to say. “Let’s do that now.”

“I’m working.”

“I can wait till your shift ends. What time do you get off ?”

“It’s a long way out.”

Miori looked him right in the eye, urging him to give up.

“Mm? Mitou, aren’t you off in thirty?” a man behind her said.

Clearly her boss.

“Here’s your iced caffe latte,” he added, setting a glass on a tray in front of Sakuta. He then gave him an encouraging wink and went back into the kitchen.

Miori shot a baleful glare at her boss’s back. She clearly didn’t appreciate him sticking his nose in.

Then she turned back to Sakuta.

“I’ve got thirty whole minutes,” she said, as if that were forever.

“I’ll try to survive the wait.”

He ate his loco moco, watching the sky turn red over the ocean. The half hour went by like nothing.

Sakuta hung out another ten minutes while Miori changed, then they left together. Conscious of the warm looks on their backs.

“My boss totally has the wrong idea about us.”

“He must think we were on the verge of dating but had a fight and now it’s awkward.”

“He’s right about the awkward part.”

“Is he?”

“Right, this man hasn’t got a sensitive bone in his body.”

She shot him some side-eye but was smiling.

And as they shared a laugh, their feet took them toward the beach.

Away from the café at the center of the lot, along the breakwater.

There was a kite wheeling overhead, tracing a graceful circle around them.

“So, Mitou.”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Do you really want to see Touko Kirishima?”

“I said as much just yesterday,” Miori said with a theatrical lilt.

“Then why’d you lie about how long your shift was?”

“Today I was in the mood to get home and vacuum.”

She was unshakable.

“You actually don’t want to see her.”

“I need to put my winter things away.”

Miori’s gaze was locked on Enoshima.

“Mitou, you weren’t rewriting reality to find Touko Kirishima.”

“……”

Now her gaze turned toward him, and her feet stopped.

“You’ve been running this whole time and just wound up in this reality.”

When he finished speaking, Sakuta stopped, too…and turned to face her.

She was looking right at him.

“Running from what?” she asked tersely.

Her voice was so soft, if the wind were any stronger, he’d never have caught it.

“From Touko Kirishima, of course.”

This was why, no matter how many times she overwrote things, she’d never made it to a reality where Touko Kirishima was alive. And she never would.

“……”

Miori didn’t really react.

She wasn’t the sort of girl who couldn’t work out what he was saying—so he was mildly surprised by her lack of response.

He’d thought she’d argue with him, go on the offensive and insist she wasn’t running to cover how rattled she was.

Or at least give him her best smile and change the subject.

She’d done neither.

Flustered, Sakuta simply stood there, waiting. Eventually…

“You got me,” Miori said with a sheepish smile. Then she looked away guiltily.

“……You’d figured that out?”

He sounded a little shocked.

She didn’t nod or shake her head.

All she offered was her usual vague smile.

That was all the answer he needed.

“You’ve heard her song—‘Turn the World Upside Down’?”

“The one Mai sang at the music festival.”

“Yeah. The lyrics go, ‘I’m glad I met you. / That’s not how I see things. / My soulmate’s no longer out there. / But the love songs we listened to all agree. / We will meet again. / Don’t be afraid to get lost. / Get up, fling that door open, step outside. / But the future’s not guaranteed. / I’ll be alone again tomorrow. / No one to split things with. / This empty hollow in my heart. / If I have to feel like this… / I wish I’d never met you.’ ”

She recited every word without emotion.

“You know them by heart. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Those are the last lyrics Touko ever wrote.”

“……”

There was a hint of sadness in her voice.

But her face betrayed no hint of her true feelings.

“I think she wrote it just before she got run over. They found our exchange diary in her bag on the way to the hospital…and it was on the most recent page, dated December twenty-fourth.”

“So to your mind, those are her last words.”

“She’d have been better off never meeting me.”

“……”

“If she hadn’t, she’d never have bought that curry bun and wouldn’t have died.”

“……”

“I was planning on making up with her, but Touko had other ideas.”

That was how Miori interpreted those lyrics.

“I don’t blame her. I said some horrible things during our fight. Stuff like no one would ever listen to her songs. That they’d just make fun of her for them. Said she’d be better off taking over the farm and growing tea at home.”

“And what’d she say?”

“She looked real sad and apologized for asking too much. And on the way out, she said, ‘I hoped you’d understand, Miori.’ Right then, she looked like she was completely alone in the world.”

Miori’s smile was rueful, as if she were ashamed of her mistake. Lost, sad, and trying to cover that up. All shades of gray.

“Do you still want to be my friend?” she asked.

Sakuta took his eyes off her and leaned against the breakwater. His lips slowly parted—and he got to the real point.

“So, Mitou…”

“What?”

“Why is that song so short?”

“Those were all the lyrics she left.” She shrugged, not really giving it any thought.

“Why does that song end in a fade-out?”

“……”

This time her reaction was quite different. She didn’t have an answer ready. It didn’t seem like a deliberate silence—she simply didn’t know.

“Was there more to the song, but no words to fit it?”

“……”

Miori’s eyes swam.

“There is, then?”

“What makes you think that?” she asked, answering his question with another question. Her mind was fully engaged.

This was what Sakuta had been hoping for.

If she’d had to ask at all, that all but confirmed there was more to the song.

“She’ll provide the answer.”

Heaving himself up off the breakwater, Sakuta turned toward the ocean. A familiar face was looking up at them from the beach below.

It was Shouko, in a Minegahara uniform.

“ ‘She’?” Miori echoed, baffled. She turned to follow his gaze.

Like Sakuta, she was looking down at the beach—and found Shouko looking up at her.

Their eyes met.

And in the sand at Shouko’s feet, in letters big enough to read from their vantage point, were the lyrics to “Turn the World Upside Down.”

“……?”

The confusion on her face was understandable.

Too much was happening all at once.

“Hi!” Shouko yelled. Loud enough to be heard up above. “I’m Shouko Makinohara!”

“……”

Miori’s brows twitched.

Her eyes went wide, locked on the girl below.

There was a good chance she recognized that name. Probably from one of those letters Touko’s mother had sent her. But she must have assumed they would never actually meet.

“Touko Kirishima gave me my future,” Shouko said, pressing her hands to her chest.

Giving thanks to her donor.

With tenderness and love.

“So that’s what you meant by going to see Touko?” Miori whispered, glancing his way. He could tell she was at a bit of a loss.

“That’s only half of it,” he said, which only raised further questions.

She started to ask…

…but before she could, Shouko yelled again.

“Read these lyrics!” she said, and she began walking down the rows of words.

Shouko moved slowly, giving Miori time to read. She stopped by the last line.

“What about them?” Miori asked.

“What’s this song called?”

“ ‘Turn the World Upside Down.’ ”

“Ever wondered what that meant?” he asked.

“I assumed she meant flipping the world on its head.”

“I suspect that’s how Touko Kirishima meant it, too. People fall in and out of love, and the other way around.”

“……?” Still lost, she gave him a baffled look. “It’s really obnoxious when you drag things out,” she snapped.

He didn’t answer.

“Miori!” Shouko called from the beach. “This time, read them the other way!”

She was standing by the bottom line.

And she slowly walked back up, rewinding the lyrics.

A few moments later, Miori let out a gasp.

“……”

Then a brief silence settled over her.

A second later…she took a soft breath.

And then Miori began to sing.

That was the first time he’d heard her do that.

But he knew that singing voice.

He’d heard it before.

It was the voice Touko Kirishima had on all those videos.

The real person behind those songs was standing right here with him, singing a Touko Kirishima song that nobody had ever heard before.

But he had heard the lyrics.

Just in the opposite direction.

The world had been turned upside down.

When she finished singing, there were tears on Miori’s face.

They were still flowing.

She’d once said she’d never cried for Touko.

Today changed all that.

And yet her face remained unchanged. The only difference from before was the waterworks.

“Azusagawa.”

“What?”

“What should I have done after losing Touko?”

“You know the answer.”

“Do I?”

“That’s why you’re crying, Mitou.”

She should have wept for her. Grieved for her.

“……Oh. I suppose so.”

Miori touched her cheeks, as if she’d only noticed the tears when he mentioned them. Her face slowly crumpled with grief…and then she knelt down, silently sobbing.

“……Touko. Touko…why’d you have to die? Why…why’d you leave me…why…?! Why?”

She kept asking and calling Touko’s name.

Blanketed by the wind and the sounds of the surf.

Hiding her so that no one could disturb her mourning.

How long did she stay like that? He wasn’t sure.

Only five minutes? Ten? Or far longer?

Shouko came up from the beach and stood with him, waiting for Miori to collect herself. There was nothing else they could do.

As they waited, the sun set behind Enoshima.

The last traces of orange were still visible when Miori stood back up.

Her cheeks were damp.

But no more tears came.

She turned to Sakuta with a look of determination.

“Azusagawa.”

Her voice was clear.

“What?” he answered in kind.

Her eyes met his.

His eyes met hers.

Neither wavered.

He held firm as he waited for her to speak.

Finally, Miori’s lips moved.

“Give Touko back to me.”

There was no hesitation in her tone.

At last, he’d heard what she truly wanted.

“……”

He didn’t answer with his words.

He didn’t even nod.

Sakuta wasn’t the one who’d make that wish come true.

Only Miori could.

2

The rental car drove off through the Shichirigahama evening. There was no traffic, and they made smooth progress.

Sakuta was at the wheel, and Shouko in the passenger seat. Miori sat in the back, watching the scenery stream by in silence.

“Right at the next corner.”

Shouko had her phone out and was navigating. Sakuta turned the car onto the expressway from the Totsuka Interchange.

He sped up in the merging lane and joined the rows of cars.

It was now six thirty PM. The skies were stained with a quiet darkness, the veil of night descending.

Inside the car, the only sound was the engine running—and the rhythmical vibrations of the tires over the bumps in the road.

For a while, they drove without real conversation.

“……The local kindergarten,” Miori muttered in the back seat.

“That’s where I first met Touko.”

Sakuta glanced at the rearview mirror and found her gazing out the side window. Her lips were still moving.

“Touko was like the playground boss.”

Her voice was as wistful as the night sky.

“Even the boys followed her around.”

She was digging into memories.

“Running around outside.”

Like she was putting pieces of a puzzle together.

“Always grinning at the center of the crowd.”

Miori spoke softly, in fragments. Not really for their ears. Not trying to reach anyone…more like she was talking to herself.

“And you?” Sakuta asked, matching her tone.

“I was always out of it…”

“……”

She trailed off, but he didn’t bug her.

“Getting into her circle seemed impossible at first.”

“……”

In the passenger seat, Shouko was listening, too.

“I’d play alone in the sandbox, resenting the fuss she made.”

She let out a wheezy laugh at the memory.

“That’s very you.”

He may not have known her then, but he could picture it.

“But Touko found me quick.”

“……”

“Our eyes met.”

“……”

“She ran right up to me.”

“……”

“ ‘Be happy!’ she yelled.”

“……”

“ ‘I am happy,’ I said, and she clearly didn’t believe me.”

She must have pictured the look on Touko’s face, because she snorted.

“After that, it was every day.”

“Yeah?”

“She’d come up and ask how I was doing. It annoyed me at first. But I think I was always waiting for her to ask. Mom says I constantly talked about her when I got home.”

All Sakuta could see was Miori’s face from the side.

She sat perfectly still, eyes never leaving the window. It was like her memories of Touko were on the other side.

“Once we learned we lived pretty close, our moms became friends, and any time there was a local event like a festival or whatever, we’d all go together. We always ate together for grade-school sports festivals, stuff like that. And we were always in the same class.”

“All six years?”

“Yep, the whole time.”

Miori was silent for a moment. Maybe she was chewing over that length of time.

“When did you start the exchange diary?” he asked after a while.

“Near the end of sixth grade.”

She didn’t hesitate. It didn’t take any effort to remember. That memory was always on the surface.

“As graduation approached, a classmate’s parents bought them a smartphone. Suddenly everyone had one. And since we were about to graduate, even kids who’d barely talked to each other ended up trading contact info. Even though we were all going to the same junior high. So dumb.”

Miori laughed at her old self.

“But Touko’s parents wouldn’t buy her one. They said it was too soon, and she was so mad about it. Her dad could be strict like that.”

That was the man who’d gone out to check the fields when they’d visited.

“He seemed like a workaholic,” Sakuta said.

Shouko nodded.

“Everyone was always talking on their phones, but Touko alone didn’t have one and was sulking about it something fierce. So I suggested we keep an exchange diary. I was joking. But she jumped on the idea.”

“It must have made her day.”

“Yeah.”

There was a smile on her face.

“We went out together to buy the notebook after class. We each put in a hundred yen. Then split a curry bun from the convenience store on the way home.”

More memories must have come back to her while she was talking. She nodded to herself. “Right, right,” she muttered.

“And you kept it going ever after?” Sakuta asked, maintaining a safe distance from the car ahead.

“It became a routine. Every spring we’d go buy that year’s notebook. Even though they finally let Touko have a phone halfway through junior high, so we didn’t need them anymore.”

“You didn’t suggest stopping, though.”

“By that time, Touko and Uncle…her father were fighting all the time. I could see her frustration in her handwriting. She’d run out of the house every Friday and come stay at my place.”

“Why were they fighting?”

“Touko wanted to leave town for high school. She constantly asked me to go with her.”

“And her dad was against the idea.”

“I think he was just worried. I get it now. But at the time, Touko didn’t. She was all rebellious, dyeing her hair, and obviously they wound up fighting about that, too.”

“You didn’t fight with her?”

“I did, like once a week. Every time I bought chicken nuggets, she’d help herself to one. I’d get pissed, and she’d give me half her curry bun.”

“Sounds like you came out ahead.”

“So I’d be forced to give her another nugget.”

She sounded put out. Like this was his fault.

But chicken nuggets came in packs of five, so Miori was still winning.

“The second-year culture festival was when we had our biggest fight.”

Her reminiscence took a sudden jump, like it had just come back to her.

Sakuta didn’t bat an eye, and Shouko remained silent.

This had never been an organized discussion.

It was just a stream of memories, flowing out of Miori.

“Touko had asked out a third-year, but he asked me out instead.”

“Classic Miori.”

“It was a catastrophe. He knew damn well we were friends. ‘Why would he do this to us?’ I thought. But when I grumbled to Touko, she said, ‘Don’t make fun, Miori. He’s serious.’ And that pissed me off, so I marched right back to him and shot him down on the spot.”

“I’m starting to feel sorry for him,” Shouko said, cringing.

“I went back to Touko and said, ‘I dumped his ass. So what?’ She gave me this look and said, ‘I envy that side of you, Miori.’ I still don’t know what she meant.”

“Did you never envy her?”

“Never.”

“Really?”

“Maybe when we were really little. But what made Touko happy made me happy. When she was sad, so was I. Somewhere along the line, I started thinking that way.”

Maybe that was why she couldn’t grieve Touko’s loss.

Maybe that was why they’d gotten on the wrong page the week before that fateful Christmas.

They shared everything.

They thought they understood each other.

But they didn’t really.

No matter how close two friends get, no matter how passionate a romance becomes, you can never truly understand everything about each other. There’s no guarantee you can sympathize. Even a minor difference could lead to a major friction. That’s what made the effort to understand so important.

But even if you know that, it isn’t always easy. It’s tough to constantly renew that commitment in the grind of life.

And Miori knew that, so Sakuta said nothing.

She spent a while bouncing all over the timeline, sharing more memories of Touko from different times and places. The faucet was all the way open now.

There was nearly a decade of memories.

Just the two of them.

It wasn’t something that could be covered in an hour drive, but Miori fit in as many stories as she could.

Shouko brought it to an end when she pointed out their destination.

“Almost there,” she said.

Through the windshield, they could see the building they were headed toward—the Yokohama Arena, often used for concerts.

He pulled around to the back entrance.

And found a familiar face amid the semis.

Ryouko Hanawa, Mai’s manager, was waiting by the staff entrance. He waved at her from the driver’s seat, and she soon spotted them.

She had her hands on her hips. He was bringing trouble to her doorstep and she wasn’t too happy about that.

“We’ll have to say sorry later,” Shouko said, picking up on that.

Sakuta winced.

“Should have brought a box of cookies,” he replied.

3

Ryouko knocked lightly on a dressing room door labeled MAI SAKURAJIMA ( TOUKO KIRISHIMA).

“Mai, I brought Sakuta.”

“Come in.”

Mai’s voice came from the back.

“Go on,” Ryouko said.

Sakuta nodded and opened the door. Shouko and Miori followed him in.

“I’ll wait out here,” Ryouko said.

The room was maybe two hundred square feet. There was a couch in the middle, and the decor made the space feel luxurious. There was catered food and drinks on the table. And flowers sent to the star of the night’s performance.

Mai was already in costume, her back to them by the mirror on the far end of the room. When she heard them come in, she turned around, careful of her earrings. She looked at Sakuta, then Shouko, and finally Miori, and she frowned.

“You asked to see me out of the blue and have brought an interesting group with you.”

She wasn’t hiding her confusion.

“Not as much as you’d think.”

If she knew the full story, it’d be obvious how much the two had in common.

“You two knew each other?” Mai asked, making light of it.

“Something like that.”

“……?”

“Mitou’s the real Touko Kirishima.”

“……”

Mai’s brow furrowed momentarily, then she scoffed at him.

“What do you mean? I told you before. I’m Touko Kirishima.”

“You only think that because of Mitou’s Adolescence Syndrome. She’s rewritten a lot of reality,” Sakuta explained.

“……For instance?”

“Both Kaedes exist at once, Futaba’s dating Kunimi, Koga’s at our college now, and Hirokawa hasn’t dropped out.”

As he rattled that list off, Mai’s smile faded.

“……”

She pursed her lips but didn’t try to refute his words. Mai simply listened. She always was levelheaded.

There was a long silence as she sorted things out in her head.

But not that long.

She looked back at Sakuta.

“Then you’re saying I only believe I’m Touko Kirishima because reality’s been rewritten?”

She put her own feelings aside to clarify the issue.

“Yeah,” he said, looking her right in the eye.

She understood the situation now and wasted no time asking the all-important question.

“Why me?”

“I think…because Touko was a big fan of yours,” Miori answered.

Of course, that raised a new question for Mai. If Miori really was Touko, then the way she phrased it made no sense.

“Touko Kirishima was Miori’s friend…and my donor,” Shouko said, gently putting her hands over her heart.

That was the core connection between all four of them.

“……”

Mai had no words. Her eyes widened a bit, but nothing more than that.

A shocking truth like that would take anyone time to process. It was too big a twist.

But a mere ten seconds later…

“So that’s why the three of you are together,” she whispered, nodding.

“That’s why the four of us had to be here.”

“Is this the hand of fate at work? I find it hard to believe,” she said, looking suddenly tired.

She let out a little sigh.

“You think I’m making it up?”

“No,” she snapped. “But I still know that I’m Touko Kirishima. That’s true to me.”

“I still want you to trust me on this one.”

Sakuta kept his gaze steady, being as candid as he could be.

“Everyone thinks I’m Touko Kirishima.”

“That’s why we need your help giving her back to Mitou.”

He looked at Miori.

So did Mai.

Miori took a step forward.

“Please, Mai. Give Touko back.”

An earnest plea.

“……”

Mai accepted it in silence.

But only for a moment—she soon glanced at the clock.

“Half an hour till the show begins…,” she muttered. “Fine! We’d better hurry.”

She started taking her earrings off.

“Sakuta, get out,” she said.

“Why?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

“Miori and I have to change. Move!”

Her voice cracked like a whip, echoing through the dressing room.

4

Half an hour later, Sakuta was in a staff jacket, backstage at the Yokohama Arena. Mai and Shouko were next to him, wearing matching jackets. Mai also had a cap and glasses to complete the disguise.

“Going live in five!”

The man with the cue cards was speaking through a headset into their earpieces.

Onstage and backstage, tensions mounted. They could not afford to screw this up.

“Four, three, two……!”

The staff used a hand sign for the actual start of the live broadcast.

A massive screen onstage showed a studio at a local TV station. The male MC was facing the camera.

“Nanjou’s waiting for us at the Yokohama Arena! Are things heating up there?” he called.

“They’re getting very hot!” said the female announcer on the edge of the stage.

Fumika Nanjou had some history with Sakuta. Normally, she was an assistant announcer on a midday infotainment show, but today she’d been called in to assist with the event broadcast.

“Can you hear the crowd?” she asked.

At her signal, everyone in the audience roared. There wasn’t an empty seat in the house. This venue seated around twenty thousand people, so their cries were deafening as they formed a rolling wave of sound.

“We can! They’re really pumped up! Everyone on our end is just as excited for Touko Kirishima’s first live television concert!”

He wasn’t hiding how excited he was, personally.

“I’m told they’ve got a big surprise for everyone, so look forward to that!”

This line had been added to her script last-minute, but she made it sound like it had always been there.

“Without further ado! Everything’s ready, so let’s begin a very special Touko Kirishima performance, live from the Yokohama Arena!”

A hush fell, and Fumika slipped offstage.

The lights dimmed.

A soft spotlight on the center of the stage—and a figure rose up from below. She wore a subdued blue dress, her face hidden beneath a veil dangling from a little hat.

A stir ran through the crowd, then they were still.

Twenty thousand people holding their breath.

Not moving a muscle.

So quiet they could all hear “Touko Kirishima” take a big breath.

A moment later, her mic slowly rose to her lips.

The music started, echoing through the arena.

I’m glad I met you.

That’s not how I see things.

My soulmate’s no longer out there.

This was “Turn the World Upside Down.”

The crowd gulped, listening to Touko Kirishima sing.

Every eye was locked on the stage.

But the love songs we listened to all agree.

We will meet again.

Don’t be afraid to get lost.

Get up, fling that door open, step outside.

On instinct, they started to swing their glow sticks.

Touko Kirishima’s head was still down. No one could see her face.

The cameraman moved in, trying to get beneath the veil.

The big screen behind her showed her lips alone.

Miori’s lips.

But the future’s not guaranteed.

I’ll be alone again tomorrow.

No one to split things with.

This empty hollow in my heart.

The mood in the crowd shifted.

Doubt filled the arena.

No one spoke a word.

But even in the silence, confusion rippled across the crowd.

It spread from the front, fanning outward.

If I have to feel like this…

I wish I’d never met you.

Miori sang the first chorus.

From this point on, the song was supposed to fade out.

That was what the crowd expected.

But something was different this time.

The song played on…

It changed keys, and then the music swelled.

The crowd’s unspoken question changed.

They didn’t know this song.

And expectations rose accordingly.

Everyone was on the same page now.

And it was the “Touko Kirishima” standing alone onstage who had put them there.

And at the peak of anticipation, Miori whipped off the hat and veil.

Her hair fell free.

Miori’s face was exposed onstage.

The cameraman stayed locked on it.

The big screen showed her plain as day as her performance was broadcast live to screens across the nation.

I wish I’d never met you.

If I have to feel like this…

This empty hollow in my heart.

No one to split things with.

I’ll be alone again tomorrow.

The second chorus sounded so different it might as well have been a completely new song.

Miori’s clear voice soared.

The crowd couldn’t take their eyes off her.

The man with the cue cards forgot his job, gaping at her. Backstage, other crew members were watching, hands clasped.

But the future’s not guaranteed.

Get up, fling that door open, step outside.

Don’t be afraid to get lost.

We will meet again.

No one tried to stop Miori.

The song played on.

Over a live broadcast.

But the love songs we listened to all agree.

My soulmate’s no longer out there.

That’s not how I see things.

I’m glad I met you.

At last, the song hit the last refrain, the music rose to a crescendo.

This empty hollow in my heart.

If I have to feel like this…

I wish I’d never met you.

That’s not how I see things.

I’m glad I met you.

Miori sang the full version of “Turn the World Upside Down.”

The last song Touko Kirishima wrote… The one she’d likely written for Miori.

Miori softly exhaled.

A single tear rolled down her cheek with a beautiful sparkle.

Spotting the camera on her, Miori bowed low.

And on that final frame, the broadcast cut to a commercial.

An instant later, the crowd exploded. Thunderous applause buried the arena.

No one on the crew moved.

They still couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.

A few exchanged glances, but no one had answers.

The first movement backstage came from right next to Sakuta.

Mai suddenly crumpled. She’d fainted.

“Mai…!”

Sakuta crouched and caught her. That knocked her cap off—and her glasses clattered across the floor.

Nearby crew members all turned to look at them, but he was in no state to care. Mai was completely limp. Arms and head dangling, she showed no signs of consciousness.

“Mai!” he called again.

“……”

Still no answer.

The staff were starting to buzz.

“If Sakurajima’s here, then…”

“Who’s the girl onstage?”

“Was this the surprise?”

“Director! What we do next?”

Voices flew left and right. Panic and stress swirled inside Sakuta, but just as much confusion and consternation were spreading backstage around him.

And he was standing in the eye of the storm.

“Makinohara, call an ambulance!” he cried, letting his emotions fuel him.

“Okay,” Shouko said—but then someone grabbed his arm.

“?!”

He flinched and looked.

Mai was holding on to him.

“I’m okay,” she said, righting herself.

“But…”

“I’m not Touko Kirishima. So I’m okay.”

He caught the gleam in her eye, and that told him everything.

“Sakuta, you get Miori out of here.”

“And you’ll…?”

“Someone’s gotta explain.”

Mai was already taking in the panic backstage. She smiled into their stares and stood up.

“Commercial ends in thirty!” someone yelled, remembering his job.

“Let’s go, Sakuta,” Shouko said.

He nodded.

“I’ll swing by the dressing room and get Miori’s clothes.”

“Please. See you in the lot.”

“Okay.”

Shouko darted off, and Sakuta turned toward the stage.

“Mitou, over here!” he called.

“Ladies and gentlemen, sorry for the confusion. I’ll explain this surprise guest appearance as soon as the commercial ends.”

He heard Mai calling to the director and Fumika.

1

The car pulled out of the Yokohama Arena staff lot, heading back the way they’d come—toward Fujisawa. They could already see the Hodogaya Interchange up ahead.

No one had said a word since the drive began.

Miori was in the back seat, gazing out the window—just as she had on the way in. But the vibe was very different. Her half-up hairdo was now all the way down, and her makeup had gone from natural to stage ready.

Her clothes were different, too. Sakuta had handed her a staff jacket, and she had that draped over her shoulders on top of the stage costume.

In the passenger seat, Shouko was focused on her phone. Scrolling her feed. Sakuta could see a lot of social media posts.

“Hate to make you wait, but I’m dropping Makinohara off first,” he said.

The clock in the car showed almost eight. Shouko said, “Thanks,” and Miori croaked, “Fine.”

They drove onto the expressway.

The numbers on the speedometer rose rapidly as the car accelerated. Once they’d reached top speed, Shouko said, “From what I’m seeing, Mai did a great job carrying the rest of the broadcast.”

“That’s my Mai.”

“The concert at the Red Brick Warehouse was an April Fool’s joke, and the plan was always to make the surprise reveal today. I did a search, and news sites are already putting articles up about today’s show.”

“Fast work.”

“ ‘Mai Sakurajima Was a Fake! Who Is the Real Touko Kirishima!?’ ”

Fake? That was some clickbait headline. But if that got more eyes on the truth about Touko Kirishima, then fine. The wider the news spread, the better.

“The concert footage is on streaming sites. View numbers are skyrocketing.”

“Hopefully, that ends the confusion around Mai.”

At the very least, Mai herself was no longer convinced she was Touko Kirishima. That fact alone reassured him to no end.

“Good,” Miori said with a relieved sigh.

“But they’re talking about you, too, Miori.”

“How so?”

“ ‘She goes to my college!’ or ‘That’s Miori Mitou! We’ve got the same major!’ There are a lot of posts like that.”

“……”

Miori had nothing to say on that.

Her face stayed on the window, showing no emotion.

“You’ll be mobbed on campus tomorrow.”

“Maybe I’ll stay home.”

“You do that, and it’ll make the next day harder.”

“Good point.”

She laughed, more to herself than anyone else. She sounded like the usual Miori again. That convinced Sakuta this had been the right choice. He’d done a good thing. And that knowledge brought a smile to his face.

“It’s not a laughing matter,” Miori said, pursing her lips at him.

“I’m not laughing.”

“You were.”

“Was not.”

“You were, too!”

They bickered awhile as the car drove on toward Fujisawa.

Sakuta pulled up by the park near his house around half past eight.

“This close enough?” he asked as Shouko undid her seatbelt.

“Yeah, thanks for dropping me off. I can walk the rest of the way.”

She hopped out, and Sakuta got out of the car himself. He’d been sitting for a while and wanted to do a few stretches.

“Um, Miori,” Shouko said from outside. Miori rolled the back-seat window down. “I thought you should have this.”

Shouko pulled a notebook out of her book bag.

Miori and Touko’s exchange diary.

Miori’s eyes locked on it.

“After the accident, I went to Touko’s house. Just the once. Her mom let me into her room. She told me to take anything of hers I needed. I didn’t want to see that last page again—so I left our fourth exchange diary there.”

“Do you still not want it?”

“It’s a little upsetting, you know? I thought I knew Touko best.”

With an awkward smile, Miori reached up and accepted the diary. Then she hugged it to her chest.

“I’m glad I met Touko.”

Those words weren’t for Sakuta’s ears.

Nor were they for Shouko.

They were for the girl who was no longer around to hear them.

That handful of words was filled with so much tenderness and warmth.

All of Miori’s feelings were contained in that single phrase.

“Well, good night!” Shouko said, bobbing her head. She headed off toward her home, turning back once to wave. Sakuta waved back.

Soon Shouko was out of sight.

Sakuta got back in the car, closed the door, and put his seatbelt on.

“Ofuna Station?” he asked.

“Azusagawa,” Miori said. Neither a yes nor a no.

“What?” he asked softly.

“Can we make a stop?”

“Somewhere you wanna go?”

“Enoshima.”

Rather than answer, he started the engine.

2

He next parked in the lot run by the Enoshima Tourism Association.

“I’m gonna change—wait outside.”

Miori was still in her stage costume, so she made him get out first.

He moved far enough away to avoid any suspicions of peeping, and five minutes later, the door opened. Miori emerged in her original dress, with that military jacket over it. She’d even put her hair back to the usual half up.

But for some reason, she was rubbing her belly.

“Mai is way too thin. I thought I was gonna rip out of that thing.”

“I’ll tell her to eat more.”

“I’d imagine you’d want a bit more to hang on to when you hug.”

“A bit? Try a lot.”

They exited the parking lot, passing by the lights of stalls selling fresh grilled seafood. They were headed toward the main road of Enoshima, which led up into the shrine.

The sun was down, but there were still tourists around. There was a young couple taking pictures by the Benten Bridge, showing them to each other and laughing happily.

Sakuta and Miori walked right past them, onto the shrine’s ascent. It was a bit too late for anyone else to be climbing with them. Everyone else was on their way back. They all looked tired; maybe they’d gone all the way to Chigogafuchi at the back of Enoshima, which required going up and down a lot of stairs.

Pushing against the flow of the crowds, Sakuta and Miori climbed on.

There were gift shops, dumpling stores, and restaurants lining the ascent, but all their shutters were down. Even the shop selling rice crackers with octopus baked in was closed, and that place always had a line out front.

The Enoshima Escar escalator had carried many a tourist to the peak—for a fee—but it was no longer operating.

They’d have to climb these stairs on their own two feet.

Miori didn’t seem to mind, so Sakuta put his foot on the first stair.

“First time in Enoshima?” he asked as she took her first step.

“First time at night. Second time ever.”

“Who’d you come with before?”

He was pretty sure he could guess, which was why he’d asked.

“Touko, on our junior high graduation trip.”

Exactly the answer he’d predicted.

“Touko said she wanted to see where Mai’s movies were filmed,” Miori said. She was starting to get a bit out of breath.

“Did you hit up Shichirigahama as well?”

“We did. We took buses and trains all the way from home. Four hours each way.”

Miori made a face, remembering the agony. But her voice sounded warm. The smile on her lips made it clear this was a fond memory now.

They climbed awhile longer and hit the midpoint landing, where the handwashing stations were. By this point they were both out of breath. They followed the proper procedure by washing their hands, then resumed the climb.

One step at a time.

Slow but steady.

At long last, they took that last step and found themselves standing before the main shrine. Enoshima had three shrines on it, and the first one visitors arrived at was Hetsumiya, dedicated to Tagitsuhime.

Plenty of worshippers visited the place, even on weekdays, but at this hour, there were only two or three couples around.

“This is as far as Touko and I got.”

Miori turned back, looking at the view behind them. Through the trees, they could see the path they’d climbed and the big bridge below.

“It took you four hours to get here, and you turned back so soon? You should at least have made it to the observation deck on top.”

Most Enoshima visitors did.

“Touko wanted to, but it was a four-hour trip back, and the last bus home is surprisingly early…so I convinced her we could come again.”

But sadly, that was not meant to be.

“If I’d known this would happen, I wouldn’t have worried about time. We should have gone all the way up. I wanted to show Touko all this island has to offer. To wait in line for those octopus crackers.”

Eyes on the view, Miori voiced her regrets.

They stood in silence for a moment. Ten seconds passed. Twenty. After a while like that, they both turned back to the shrine and walked up to it.

Miori dropped a coin in, and Sakuta followed her lead.

He put his hands together like she was doing.

But wished for nothing.

He couldn’t think of anything worth asking for.

“……”

Without a word, they moved away from the shrine and headed deeper into the island.

“What do you think Touko wished for?”

“To come here with you again, Mitou.”

“What do you think I wished for?”

“To get to your bus on time.”

Miori didn’t say if he was right or not.

“Only half those wishes came true,” she said with a chuckle.

“I’d call that a pretty good success rate.”

“You are obnoxious.”

Miori cackled.

Her laugh melted into the quiet Enoshima night. Only the trees around them heard it. Perhaps the round moon hanging over their heads. There was no one else on the stairs to the next shrine, Nakatsumiya.

Seeing more stairs, Miori made a face but didn’t grumble.

“Touko really enjoyed that trip,” she began. “ ‘It’s just like in the movie!’ she said.”

Miori paused every now and then to catch her breath.

“ ‘This is the beach Mai walked down!’ She took so many pictures.”

Miori spoke slowly as she shared these memories.

“She had such a good time.”

At length, they ran out of stairs and reached Nakatsumiya. They prayed at the deserted shrine and headed even farther in.

More stairs were waiting for them.

Miori shot them a baleful glare.

“If we make it up these, we’re technically at the top of the island,” Sakuta said.

She turned that baleful glare his way.

Then she sighed and started climbing, too tired to speak.

Both Sakuta and Miori were focused entirely on keeping their feet moving. Out of breath but forcing themselves onward, as if resting were admitting defeat.

At the top, they finally stopped, catching their breath.

There was sweat on his forehead and dripping down inside his clothing. Miori kept wiping her brow, too.

When they managed to catch their breath a little bit, Miori moved forward, unsteady on her feet. She seemed drawn to the Samuel Cocking Garden, where the Sea Candle stood—the symbol of Enoshima, where the observation deck was.

This garden was filled with lights in winter and had different floral displays in every season.

As a popular tourist attraction, it was normally packed—but not tonight. It was after business hours, and the gates were already closed.

“I thought I’d get to make up for missed chances,” Miori said with a wince, eyes on the closed gates.

“You can come again. Anytime you like,” Sakuta said, moving on from the Samuel Cocking Garden.

He crossed the clearing to stand on a deck overlooking the ocean. It was no match for the view from the Sea Candle, but it offered a solid view of Kugenuma Beach and the lights of Chigasaki. The red and white lights of the cars on Route 134 were streaming along the coast.

“Will you come with me again, Azusagawa?” Miori asked, eyes on the view.

“When the Escar is moving.”

“You can’t just say that and then vanish on me.”

She was taking a big step with those words.

“It would make Mai sad, so I plan to live a long life.”

He would not disappear like Touko Kirishima had.

“You are so obnoxious!” Miori laughed, catching his drift.

Nothing phony about that smile.

“I haven’t talked this much about Touko in ages,” she murmured, resting her arms on the rail of the deck.

“You glad you did?”

“Yeah. But I also can’t believe it.”

“By how long it’s been?”

Miori’s eyes were down, and she shook her head.

“……Touko’s become a memory.”

“……”

“I guess that means I’ve accepted her death.”

She was chewing on each word, double-checking her own emotions.

“I graduated high school, went off to college, all on my own…”

It sounded like she was trying to come to terms with something.

“I went on with my life like it didn’t matter that she’s gone. That’s what I can’t believe.”

Her words vanished beyond the night sky, intended for a place very, very far away.

She stared down with sad eyes at her hands resting against the rail. In that moment, she seemed terribly lonely.

Miori seemed to be barely keeping it together as the solitude and sorrow threatened to overflow and rush out at any moment.

“Azusagawa.”

“What?”

“When Touko died…instead of running away, should I have tried again, the way you did?”

“……”

He didn’t have an answer to that. He couldn’t agree, disagree, or even offer sympathy. This was something she’d had bottled up for a long time, unable to share with anyone.

Saying it aloud had meaning.

Sakuta figured that the fact these words reached him were all the answer she needed.

And she soon proved him right.

“Anywho…,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

“Mitou.”

“Mm?” She turned to face him.

“Call me anytime…”

His eyes never left the view, but his words faced her head-on.

“…anytime you wanna talk about Touko Kirishima.”

“I guess I shouldn’t ask why.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

He made a point of using that word.

“Tell me, Azusagawa.”

“What?”

“Are you ready to go buy one with me?”

“Buy what?”

Miori was looking at a couple who were taking selfies on the observation deck. Which meant there was a phone in their hands, all lit up.

“If it’s ‘anytime,’ then you’ll need a way for me to get in touch.”

“Point taken.”

He was less reluctant than he’d expected.

“Could be useful for arranging the next trip to Enoshima.”

“I’ll consider it.”

These words were more or less out of habit.

“Ugh, this guy’s never gonna buy one.”

She laughed at his failure to commit.

He winced at it himself.

And for a while, they stood there, bathed in the moonlight.

3

Sakuta and Miori left Enoshima shortly before ten. They’d rushed back to the parking lot after remembering that the police were about to shut the Benten Bridge down.

The cop car was already there when they drove past. The rental car headed to the Shonan Enoshima Station on the monorail.

“I can take you to Ofuna.”

“Nah, I feel like a monorail ride,” Miori insisted.

The car pulled up outside the deserted station, and Miori got out.

“See you on campus tomorrow,” she said, leaning back in the door.

“See you there,” he said.

Miori waved at him with a smile and shut the door.

It felt like she’d worked through some things. She watched as Sakuta drove off.

He started heading back toward Fujisawa. He had to return the car to the rental shop near the station.

“Please come again!” the young man on duty said after checking for damage.

Sakuta left the car rental shop.

It was almost ten thirty.

This late on a Sunday, the station was less crowded than on weekdays. Sakuta was about to head out on his usual route home when he heard a name he knew.

“You saw the video? She wasn’t Mai Sakurajima!”

“Touko Kirishima, you mean? Yeah, I saw that!”

Two college girls, sounding a bit drunk.

Two college guys walking behind them jumped in. “What about Mai Sakurajima?” “She’s not Touko Kirishima.” “I haven’t seen this yet! Show me!” “You have your own phone.” “Ah-ha-ha-ha!”

Seemed like they were headed back from a mixer and were all a bit worked up.

They vanished into the station.

“Things are back to normal.”

Mai herself had said she wasn’t Touko Kirishima. He’d heard her say it.

Miori’s Adolescence Syndrome had overwritten reality, so those changes should all have been reverted today.

Everything should be normal again.

If he went home, hiragana Kaede wouldn’t be there.

He knew that…

He’d known this would happen, but thinking it in so many words made his feet feel heavy and put an ache in his heart.

He hung his head, eyes on the ground.

“Mm? Senpai?” a voice asked.

He looked up.

“I thought that was you!” Tomoe said, coming happily up to him. “Why you out so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Koga. Go home.”

“I was working!” she snapped, puffing out her cheeks. “I’m in college now. I can work later shifts.”

“Oh, I guess that’s true.”

Sakuta gave her a good look over.

“Wh-what?”

“You enjoying college?”

“Still getting used to things. It’s so hard to decide what to wear!”

That was a very Tomoe problem.

“And you have to figure your own schedule out.”

She still seemed to be stuck on that.

“It’s a real pain,” he agreed.

“But I’ve got Nana with me, which helps. And I guess technically you’re there.”

“……”

That off-the-cuff comment was bugging him a little. More than a little, actually. If her friend Nana Yoneyama and Sakuta were both there…did that mean what he thought it meant?

“……Uh, Koga.”

He felt himself tensing up.

“What?”

His heart was going a mile a minute.

“You’re going to the same college as me, then?”

He almost hesitated to ask. His voice was hoarse.

“Huh? This again?”

She rolled her eyes.

But then frowned.

“Are you okay?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

She peered up at him. She wasn’t sure what his question meant. Clearly, she didn’t see anything wrong with what she’d said.

Her reaction was making Sakuta feel dizzy. There was a deep discrepancy between their perceptions.

Mai was back to normal.

But Tomoe’s reality was still rewritten.

And that raised a whole new concern.

If Tomoe’s reality was still rewritten, then maybe the others’ were, too.

The first face that came to mind was hiragana Kaede.

She might still be at home.

And that thought put fear to his feet. It felt as if he was up to his knees in a swamp.

“Sorry, Koga. Something just came up. Careful going home!”

With that, he turned and ran.

“Ah, Senpai!” she yelled, but he was in the wind.

Down the stairs from the overpass.

Stamping his feet at the walk light.

Across the crosswalk.

Over the Sakai River bridge.

Pell-mell down the long, quiet, gentle slope, panting heavily.

His heart beating so hard it hurt.

And not just from lack of oxygen.

Panic had overtaken him, like there was something on his heels. A thick fog clouded his mind. An invisible fear was crushing his heart. He gasped for air. His lungs crying out for mercy. But on he ran. He didn’t dare stop.

He needed to be home ASAP.

Get home and make sure.

Sakuta covered a distance that normally took ten minutes in only five.

He threw himself out of the elevator and skidded to a halt by his door.

He tried to catch his breath.

No sounds came from inside.

All he could hear was his ragged breathing.

He fished his key out of his pocket and put it in the lock, hand shaking.

It was dark and quiet inside.

But when he started taking his shoes off, he saw a pair of brown loafers in the entrance.

“Those are Kaede’s…”

Then he heard a cat meow in the living room, and a moment later, Kaede emerged in a hooded set of panda pajamas.

“Welcome home, Sakuta!”

She threw both hands up to greet him.

“You are Kaede, then……?”

His voice was a rasp.

“Who else would I be?”

She leaned over, baffled by the question. Confusion emanated from her whole body.

He was surprised.

He had no idea why the original Kaede hadn’t replaced this one.

But that wasn’t the first emotion he’d felt when he saw her.

“Mai wasn’t Touko Kirishima at all! What a twist!” Kaede babbled, blissfully unaware.

More than anything, Sakuta was relieved.

This Kaede was still here. She’d stuck around.

And realizing that brought a new wave of panic with it. His thoughts started spinning, as if trying to disguise the fact that this had made him happy.

Kaede was still here.

That was a fact.

Which meant only one thing.

This wasn’t over yet.

Mai was back to normal, but some realities were still rewritten.

Like Tomoe’s, and Kaede’s.

Who else?

“Sakuta?” Kaede asked, leaning closer. She was puzzled by why he was just standing in the door.

“It’s nothing. Good to be home.”

He took off his shoes and went inside, heading for the living room to get some answers.

His feet took him straight to the landline.

Cradling the receiver on his shoulder, he dialed Rio’s number.

She didn’t pick up the first time.

“……”

Or the second.

“……”

The third time, the ringing cut off, and the call went through.

“What’s this about, Sakuta?”

Not Rio’s voice, but a man’s. He recognized the voice—it was Yuuma Kunimi’s.

“Why would you answer, Kunimi? I called Futaba.”

“She’s otherwise occupied.”

“With?”

“Solving a physics problem. For the lesson she’s teaching tomorrow.”

“And what are you up to?”

“Working hard at watching my girlfriend work.”

That sounded like a happy moment.

“So what do you want, Sakuta?”

“Your bragging told me everything I needed to hear.”

Yuuma calling Rio his girlfriend pretty much answered all his questions.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

Yuuma started to say something back, but Sakuta ignored that and hung up.

“What does it mean…?”

“Sakuta? What’s going on?”

Kaede was cuddling with Nasuno, giving him a curious look.

But Sakuta had no answers for her.

He didn’t know what was going on.

He’d love for someone to tell him.

Questions were filling his mind, causing a traffic jam—none of them could move. He didn’t even know where to begin thinking.

Sakuta’s brain had ground to a halt.

Then the phone rang.

At first, he thought Yuuma was calling back. He had kind of hung up on him.

But that wasn’t it.

The number on the display wasn’t Rio’s or Yuuma’s.

But he did recognize it.

He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear.

“Akagi?” he asked, leaning in.

“Mm. It’s been a while.”

Ikumi’s voice was far calmer than Sakuta was feeling. But her word choice bothered him.

“We met at the festival a week ago.”

Not really long enough to call a while.

“Kamisato was worried about you. She said you were out of touch after that,” he said, belatedly remembering.

Before he’d quite finished, Ikumi spoke over him.

“I haven’t talked to this Azusagawa in four months.”

Had she just said four months?

That rang a bell. And explained the while.

“……You’re the other world’s Akagi?”

“Can you come out? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Who?”

“He says we’re in the park where you kicked your kohai’s butt.”

That was a loaded phrase. A loaded invitation.

“……Got it. On my way.”

This had been a busy day already, but it clearly wasn’t done with him yet.

4

In less than an hour, the date would change. It was an hour when most of Sakuta’s quiet neighborhood was fast asleep.

He’d told Kaede he was stepping out for a minute, then started walking down the street—passing not a single soul on his way to the park.

Once, he and a certain kohai had kicked each other’s butts here.

The streetlights were the only source of illumination.

He stepped into that dimly lit park and saw someone standing by the colorful jungle gym.

Ikumi Akagi. The girl who’d just called him. But not the one from his world.

She saw him coming and looked his way, nodding.

Neither said a word. Sakuta’s mind was already on the bench beneath the streetlight.

The figure there was larger than any human.

It was a familiar-looking pink bunny-mascot costume.

And that oversized head turned at the sound of Sakuta’s footsteps.

Clearly someone was inside it.

“Mitou was Touko Kirishima,” Sakuta said, sitting down next to the bunny.

“I know that already,” an unfamiliar voice replied.

The voice felt off.

But a lot like his own.

“I’ve solved Mitou’s problems. Mai’s back to normal. But the rest of the world is still rewritten.”

“I know that, too.”

“And now the other Akagi’s here. And you. What’s going on?”

“First, let me correct you about one thing.”

“Namely?”

“Miori Mitou is not the one rewriting reality.”

“……?”

That certainly flipped everything on its head.

“Then who is?”

The obvious question.

The bunny’s head wobbled. Leaning a bit toward him.

“You are, Sakuta Azusagawa.”

“?!”

“Miori Mitou’s Adolescence Syndrome was something else entirely,” the bunny added, before Sakuta could recover.

“That can’t be. Mitou herself said it! Every morning, she woke up in a different reality!”

He was arguing on pure reflex.

“That’s just how she perceived it.”

“What does that mean?”

“I suspect that, originally, a single Miori Mitou simultaneously existed in all potential worlds.”

“Simul… All of them?”

Echoing that helped him process the concept a little.

As he kept sorting things out in his head, he asked the bunny, “Then you have the exact same Mitou in your potential world, too?”

“Yes. My world had an identical Miori Mitou, with the same memories and experiences. Even though Akagi and I are a bit different in each world—both our choices and personalities. In other words, one could say that out of all the worlds, only one Miori Mitou exists.”

“……”

“If no one had noticed that, then Miori Mitou would have gone on existing in every world at once. Like a particle whose location cannot be defined without observation.”

“So if you don’t know where she is, she can be in any world…right?”

“That’s the logic, at least.”

“But someone did notice…”

And the bunny had already told him who that was.

“You came to my world, and I came to yours. Sakuta Azusagawa knew that multiple worlds exist. So what happens if the two of us observe Miori Mitou at the same time?”

“That would mean two of her exist.”

“But there is only ever one Miori Mitou.”

“So you’re saying that while I’m observing Mitou, it’s impossible to observe her in any other potential worlds? Because that would be a contradiction.”

“In fact, Miori Mitou is no longer observable in my world.”

That’s what the message passed through Ikumi on the day of the festival had meant.

“Assuming I’ve followed you this far, how does that confirm I’m the one rewriting reality? Wouldn’t Mitou still be the one capable of that?”

“Naturally, Miori Mitou is half the cause. Existing in all worlds simultaneously means she has the capacity to observe them all, too. She already knows every world out there. In other words, all worlds overlap at one point—Miori Mitou. She is likely acting as a gateway through which possibilities different from your reality become perceivable by the people of your world. Which were then shared through the dreaming hashtag.”

“……”

“You had a dream yourself ?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve seen the #dreaming posts.”

“Saw and heard. All kinds of dreams.”

“They allow you to unconsciously observe other potential worlds.”

“So as a result of my observations…you think I rewrote the world?”

“I do. And in a way that benefits you.”

“……”

“People interpret things the way they want to.”

This was not easy to accept.

He wasn’t even sure he understood it.

But he was very sure reality was still rewritten.

“And your revisions have affected my world.”

“……?”

“Kunimi and Futaba. The ones I knew started going out last fall. That’s been rewritten so that Kunimi is still with Kamisato.”

“So your reality was pulled to my world, but mine went to yours?”

“That’s the natural assumption. Similar things are likely happening in other potential worlds.”

“Mitou said she’d met a lot of versions of me. I think she said fifty?”

“Which means there are at least that many potential worlds.”

“And they’re all getting mixed together…?”

The bunny nodded slowly.

“So how do I put things back?”

“Simple.”

The bunny got to his feet.

“Stop acting as the observer.”

Emotionless plastic eyes stared down at Sakuta.

“!”

This was unsettling enough that Sakuta jumped to his feet.

He took two or three steps back, but the bunny took a half step closer.

When he tried to back off further, someone stepped between them.

Ikumi.

She stood in front of the bunny, as if protecting Sakuta.

“You said you were just gonna talk,” she said, glaring up at the bunny.

“I’m kidding,” the bunny said, laughing. “That would be a last resort.”

That didn’t sound like a laughing matter.

“Wish that was a joke, too.”

There was a cold sweat on Sakuta’s back. He was very tense.

“Then put things back right now. Before more of us come from other potential worlds.”

“One of me is plenty.”

“Some of them may take more drastic measures than I have.”

“This is so not funny.”

“If you’ve got both Kaedes in this world, then odds are that some world out there has neither. Do you think any Sakuta Azusagawa would stand for that?”

“……”

He didn’t. So he said nothing.

Maybe the bunny was right and other Sakuta Azusagawas would come after him. Wearing their own bunny costumes.

“I can only tell you one last thing.”

The bunny looked him right in the eye.

“……”

Sakuta returned that gaze in silence.

“Refute Adolescence Syndrome now.”

“……”

That didn’t even make sense at first.

He didn’t know what it meant.

It was like the other him was speaking in tongues.

“What did you say?”

His voice was hoarse.

“Refute Adolescence Syndrome now,” the bunny said again. Word for word.

The phrase echoed through Sakuta’s head.

“Refute Adolescence Syndrome now.”

“If you can no longer perceive Adolescence Syndrome, you’ll cease to be the observer.”

“……”

“And the problem will be solved.”

“……You mean that?”

“Of course. Adolescence Syndrome doesn’t exist.”

“I can’t do that after…!”

He tried to get a grip on his emotions, but Sakuta’s voice was shaking.

“After everything Kaede and I went through, when no one would believe us. You should know!”

His temper was rising.

“Meeting Shouko, and then with Mai…! All because of Adolescence Syndrome! How can I reject it now?!”

He thought the bunny would get that.

They might not agree on every point, but they were both Sakuta Azusagawa. They’d led similar lives and shared similar memories.

“It was all in your head. Even this conversation—you’re just having a strange dream. It isn’t real.”

But the more Sakuta heated up, the colder the bunny’s tone got.

Which just infuriated Sakuta.

“So I should just forget everything that’s happened? Convince myself it wasn’t real?”

“That’s one solution.”

“What would I have left?”

“……”

The bunny didn’t have an answer for that.

He stared at Sakuta, searching for the right words.

“Talking with you has made one thing clear,” he said after several seconds. “Out of all the Sakuta Azusagawas, you have the strongest belief in Adolescence Syndrome.”

“……”

“At the least, I can say I never encountered a case of it after high school. Until I got caught up in yours.”

The bunny glanced at Ikumi. Her trading places was the trigger, and he’d been sending messages through her.

“The date’s about to change,” the bunny said. A phone was in his hand.

Ikumi took hers out, checking the time.

The clock on her screen showed midnight. The long April 9 was finally over, and the tenth had arrived.

“April tenth is…” Ikumi looked up at the pink bunny.

“Happy birthday, Sakuta Azusagawa. Now you’re twenty.”

He heard clapping inside the bunny suit. A hollow echo over the park.

But there was nothing happy about it.

His emotions refused to pull out of their swirl.

Everything he’d believed in had been dismissed, and his whole world was turned upside down.

“……”

He wanted to say something back.

But no words came.

The smolder within was being stifled by the small, quiet voice in the back of his brain.

He wasn’t convinced.

But he was starting to parse what the bunny had said.

What was Adolescence Syndrome anyway?

Asking himself that brought him a kind of answer.

It was a delusion caused by unstable emotions.

One that should fade away as you grow up.

It had an ending.

And for the first time, he’d been forced to see that he was standing on that cliff’s edge.

That teetering sensation was what made him so uneasy.

The lights of a car passed by the park.

The bunny and Ikumi both glanced toward it.

Sakuta alone didn’t budge.

The sound of the car soon died down, but not because it drove away—it had stopped nearby.

He heard the door opening.

And he heard it close.

Someone came up behind them with uncertain footsteps.

“Sakuta?” a voice called.

He looked up and turned around.

Mai was standing in the entrance to the park.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, baffled by the scene.

“Akagi brought a bunny,” he said, turning back to them.

But there was no sign of any pink mascot costume. Ikumi had vanished, too.

“A bunny? Akagi? What do you mean?”

Mai was coming closer.

“There were here a second ago. They said reality is still rewritten, and it’s all my fault.”

He looked around again, but there were no signs of them.

“They were here.”

This was one straw too many, and his body went limp, collapsing on the bench.

Mai came over to him and took his hands.

“I’ll hear the long version tomorrow. Let’s go home,” she said.

On her finger, she wore the heart-shaped ring he’d bought her.

He could feel her warmth on his hands.

The gentle heat seeped in.

“You’re real, Mai?”

Those words sprang from his anxiety.

Mai let go of his hands and pulled his head to her chest.

“Does this feel fake?”

Her warmth wrapped around him.

He could hear her heart beating.

“It doesn’t.”

Sakuta put his arms round Mai’s back, clinging to her.

She was real.

So he didn’t want to let her go.

1

Early the next morning—April 10—Sakuta left the house on time to attend his first-period class. Mai was driving, and he was in the passenger seat, eyes on the license plate of the car ahead. Four numbers beneath the kanji for Shonan.

It was just the two of them.

They’d said hello, and Sakuta had talked the rest of the ride.

He detailed every weird thing that had happened lately.

And the shocking truth the bunny costume had revealed last night.

None of it was easy to believe, but he was thorough, telling Mai everything.

Hands on the wheel, all Mai offered was the occasional “Oh?” She asked no questions.

By the time he’d gotten her all caught up, a full twenty minutes had passed.

The light ahead turned green.

Mai stepped on the gas, pulling out, and finally spoke up.

“So the reason I thought I was Touko Kirishima is actually unrelated to all the other changes happening around you.”

“I believe that one was the same as your thing in high school.”

“When no one could perceive me?”

Sakuta nodded.

“Everyone acted like you weren’t there, and soon they actually couldn’t see you. Everyone thought you were Touko Kirishima, so you actually became her.”

If everyone thought white was black, it was.

That was something that happened every day.

“But the rest—everything else that’s been rewritten—is actually because of you?”

“According to the bunny costume.”

“Because your belief in Adolescence Syndrome is far too strong…,” Mai muttered, half to herself.

“……”

“I think I get that part.”

“……You do?”

Surprised, he turned to look at her. Eyes on the road, she responded to that glance.

“At the least, you’ve encountered more cases of it than anyone else. If you routinely encounter the inexplicable, over time, that becomes your new normal. It makes sense.”

Mai spun the wheel, turning into the parking garage near campus. Cutting off the sun.

“Maybe,” Sakuta said—but that didn’t mean he nodded in agreement.

It was normal to him, which made it impossible to tell how that was different from everyone else.

But reality seemed to confirm Mai’s assessment.

Outside the parking garage, Sakuta headed for their college, his footsteps dragging a little.

But since Mai was right next to him, he couldn’t exactly let his head hang.

They waited for the railroad crossing near the campus gates and then crossed the tracks together.

There was a scattershot procession of students coming from the station to first-period classes.

Sakuta and Mai joined that flow, heading through the gates onto campus.

As they walked down the tree-lined lane, they naturally drew a lot of looks. Mai Sakurajima was a famous actress, and she was boldly parading her boyfriend around, so this always happened. But today it wasn’t just that—the live concert broadcast last night was clearly fanning the flames. The real Touko Kirishima had shown up to prove she wasn’t Mai.

“Miori’s gonna have a rough one.”

“Yeah.”

She was likely already surrounded.

The flow of students turned right from the lane, destined for the main classroom building. Sakuta was about to follow them, then saw someone waiting farther down the row of trees.

A college girl in a dress, with a military jacket over her shoulders.

They’d just been talking about her. Miori was standing there, watching the flow of foot traffic.

Their eyes met.

Miori looked faintly surprised, then moved toward Sakuta.

He stepped out of the flow, moving down the tree-lined lane.

“Sakuta?” Mai asked, puzzled. Her footsteps faltered, but she followed after him.

This all struck him as odd.

Why had Miori been just standing there?

Why had she been surprised when their eyes met?

Why was no one showing interest in Miori Mitou, now that they knew she was Touko Kirishima?

Sakuta had encountered things like this before.

It was just like Mai in high school.

It had happened to Sakuta, too.

So his doubt soon gave way to a bad premonition.

“Mitou?” he asked, sounding tense.

“Azusagawa. You can see me.”

That alone answered his questions…

…but provided no solutions. His doubt merely became a problem. He was plunging into an even bigger vortex of confusion.

“No one else can see you?”

He knew asking would do no good, but he had to be sure.

“Apparently not,” Miori said with an awkward smile. Not much else she could say.

He stood next to her, looking at the procession of students.

No one was glancing her way.

Miori gave a little wave and got no reaction.

She waved both hands and got nothing.

A few people glanced at Sakuta. Nobody looked at Miori. No one could see her. She was no longer perceived.

“I was planning on being the center of attention, too,” she said with a sigh, trying to put a bold face on it.

“Um, Sakuta,” Mai said, before Miori finished. “Is Miori with us?”

She was standing a good three yards back, shooting him a dubious look. Her eyes were glancing right and left but clearly not finding Miori anywhere.

He felt his body freeze solid.

“You can’t see her, either?!”

He didn’t even try to hide the shock.

No light dawned on Mai’s face. It was stuck on “doubt.”

“She’s right here!” Sakuta said, pointing, but Mai’s gaze glided right past Miori. It wandered a moment, then returned to Sakuta.

“……”

“……”

Neither Miori nor Mai had anything else to say.

All three of them just stood there, lost.

He knew what this was; he’d processed that—but no further words came to mind.

Miori just bit her lip.

The first to break the silence…was Mai.

“Then I guess it’s true,” she muttered, as if connecting the dots.

“What’s true?” he asked.

Mai’s gaze rose from the pavement to his face.

“You are the observer, Sakuta.”

She held his gaze, echoing a phrase he’d used in the car on the way here. Something the bunny costume had told him—and that clearly fit this situation in her mind.

“I can’t see Miori anymore,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. Clearly dismayed by that fact.

But there was more than simple disappointment. There was a quiet warmth there, like the morning sun.

Sakuta had no idea how she could look like that in such dire circumstances.

He didn’t, at first, get where she was coming from.

“……”

When he said nothing, Mai elaborated.

“When you were little, did you ever see monsters in the patterns on the ceiling?”

“……”

What was she driving at? He was still hopelessly lost.

“But as you grew up, they turned into just plain old marks.”

“Yeah…I could have sworn there was a woman with long hair up there and made sure never to look that way when I went to bed. And at some point along the way, I stopped noticing her at all.”

“These things always turn into cute little childhood anecdotes.”

Mai was looking him right in the eye.

“……Right.”

“The same thing happens with Adolescence Syndrome.”

“……”

When he fell silent, she kept her gaze steady.

“I can no longer see what you see, Sakuta.”

“……”

Her gaze never once wavered.

“I’d like for us both to see the same things.”

Her words every bit as steadfast.

No beating around the bush, no mincing words, no trace of shame.

She spoke directly to his heart.

“I hope we can.”

The bell rang. Five minutes to the start of classes.

“I’ll be going on ahead.”

She flashed her usual warm smile and rejoined the flow of students. Mai was back in the throng of the crowd. Her back bolt upright, a beautiful gait, effortlessly drawing the eyes of everyone around.

“……”

All Sakuta could do was watch her go.

Before long, Mai vanished into the building, out of his sight.

“She meant ‘Grow up,’ ” Miori said, when he just stood there.

“……I got that.”

That was the general gist.

A very Mai thing to say.

It tickled him pink and shamed him to the core. It hurt too much to laugh at himself. His emotions were all mixed up, his thoughts spinning in his head. An unpleasant sensation running through him. But no matter where it went, there was no exit.

“Um, Azusagawa,” Miori called. The one signpost he had to lead him out of his mind.

“You gonna comfort me?”

Miori shook her head.

“You free this evening?”

He hadn’t seen that coming. So it took him a moment to answer.

“What time specifically?”

“Ten fifty.”

That was too specific.

“What time is that?”

“The last train from Fujisawa toward Kamakura. On the Enoden.”

“And what about it?”

“I’ll be on that train, bound for a different potential world.”

Miori sounded just like she always did. But the words themselves were anything but ordinary.

“……”

But Sakuta knew what she meant right away. He remained completely silent.

“Will you see me off ? As my friend?”

“Did the asshole in the bunny costume put ideas in your head?”

That was the only explanation he could come up with.

“At Ofuna Station this morning, a bunny costume only I could see gave me this.” Miori took a plain white envelope out of her tote bag. There was a letter inside, several pages long.

He recognized the handwriting.

It was his own.

And it covered everything he and the bunny had discussed the night before.

“So you figured out everything, Mitou?”

“I’m not saying I get all of it, but I know there are other worlds, and I originally existed in all of them at once. And I get that there are worlds troubled by my absence.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

“I’ve gotta get Touko back in those worlds, too. Can’t foist her off on all the Mais.”

“……Still.”

“Knowing I was seeing different worlds has its upsides,” she said, before he could continue.

“Like?”

“I mean, now that I’ve stopped running? Might be worth seeing if I can find my way to a world where Touko still exists.”

Maybe she would. Maybe she wouldn’t. There was likely no way to tell. But that’s why Sakuta nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sure there is.”

“All I ever found was Azusagawa.”

“Are you glad you did?”

“Yeah, we had some good times.”

“Shame we can’t have more. And here we just became friends.”

“That’s no big deal. Not like we’re parting forever.”

“It’s probably down to me if we can ever meet again, Miori.”

“It’ll happen if you conquer the monster on the ceiling. I mean, no matter what world it is, I exist.”

“True.”

He agreed out loud, but inside he wasn’t so sure.

If everything rewritten went back the way it was, he wasn’t sure where that would leave him. If he did what the bunny said and rejected Adolescence Syndrome…if he admitted it wasn’t real, then that might well negate all the connections he’d made because of it.

There was no guarantee he’d even remember meeting Miori.

So he couldn’t make promises.

“I’ll see you there tonight,” Miori said, and she marched off against the crowd toward the campus exit. No one noticed her. No one even looked. They didn’t know she was there.

Sakuta watched until she was out of sight, unable to move a muscle.

2

Once Miori was gone, Sakuta moved to his first-period classroom, just barely making it there in time. He slipped in through the doors on the far end of the third floor and grabbed an empty seat by the windows.

The room was sparsely populated; only 30 percent of the seats were filled.

Glancing around, he saw no one he knew. Mostly students from other majors.

Class would start any minute.

Eyes on the window, he tried in vain to sort out his thoughts.

“So you are getting a teaching license,” a voice said nearby.

He looked up.

Nodoka was sitting next to him.

“Toyohama. Gonna be an idol who can legally teach?”

This was a guidance session on how to go about getting a teaching license. That meant Nodoka was here for the same reason he was.

“Does my sister know?” she asked, getting a notebook and pen case out of her book bag.

“I’m planning to tell her eventually, so keep it between the two of us.”

“Why are you being secretive?”

She glared at him.

“Why are you mad about it?” he asked.

“She’s been wondering.”

“What?”

“ ‘I know Sakuta wants to be a teacher, but he never talks about it.’ ”

“That’s my Mai. She’s onto me.”

That’s why Nodoka had started with “So you are.”

“What’s the issue then?”

“There isn’t one.”

“There’s a reason why you haven’t told her.”

“Not really. I thought I’d get the license and figure things out from there. Just haven’t gotten around to telling her.”

“Then you could easily have told her that.”

He couldn’t argue that point.

“……Fair enough.”

As Nodoka won the argument, a female faculty member came in.

“This is the guidance session for getting a teaching license. If you’re here for that, take a seat.”

The hubbub in the room died away.

The guidance session lasted a bit under an hour, disbanding with thirty minutes left on the clock.

Nodoka tucked the paperwork into her bag and got up.

“Talk to her,” she said, hammering in one last nail, and then stalked off without waiting for an answer. He watched her go. Several other students here were doing the same thing.

“She’s cute in person, too!”

“I thought you were a Zukki stan.”

“I go for Doka, too.”

He could hear people making wild comments in the background.

A few of them were giving him looks, purely because they’d been sitting together. Not a pleasant feeling. He pretended not to notice and left the room.

He didn’t have time for nonsense.

3

The classroom before his second-period statistics class was as it ever was.

Groups of four or five were living it up and happily chatting. Others sat all on their own, smirking at the feed on their phones. Some students were already asleep on their desks. Takumi saw Sakuta coming in and gave him a wave.

Sakuta settled in next to him.

Glancing around the familiar sights again.

The boys in front were sharing takes on a romantic reality show that had aired last night. Who had hooked up, who was the cutest, who’d they want to date—anything that crossed their minds.

A conversation far realer than reality shows.

But in Sakuta’s frame of mind, it felt like there was a pane of glass between him and everyone else.

He was seated in class but didn’t even feel like he was sitting down.

Nothing before him felt real.

No sensations felt grounded.

Everything he saw felt like a dream or an illusion…and doubts swirled within his head. Spinning and spinning and dragging all other thoughts into the vortex.

How much of this room was even real?

How many of them were wrong?

If he couldn’t trust the evidence of his eyes, then what could he believe in?

“Say, Fukuyama.”

“What?”

“What is a grown-up?”

“……Something happen?”

Takumi had not seen this question coming, and it took him a beat to respond.

“Mai just told me to grow up.”

“……”

Takumi froze, mouth half open. Clearly, Sakuta’s statement was not just unexpected, but earth-shattering.

“That’s brutal,” he said with a wince, after a very long pause. “If Nene told me that, I’d burst into tears.”

“But Mai actually did drop that bombshell on me.”

Takumi winced again.

“I guess, generally speaking…economic independence from your parents?”

“That’s not happening soon.”

He had three more years of college left.

“And I guess otherwise looking after yourself ?”

“I’ve been cooking and cleaning since high school.”

“Then…going into a proper sushi place on your own? The non-revolving kind?”

“I’ll have to give that a shot.”

“Other challenging stuff—famous soba shops, snack bars you can’t see inside…”

Takumi was getting carried away, but after a moment, a grave look settled over his face.

“But based on my own experience, I’d say taking care of the one you love.”

That bitter note in his smile was likely because there’d been a long period of time when he’d been unable to do so. Sakuta was aware. For several months, Takumi had forgotten his girlfriend—Nene Iwamizawa—had even existed.

“Big talk from a guy who couldn’t even remember Nene, right?”

He laughed, trying to shake off the grim mood.

“You lived through it, so your advice sounds persuasive.”

At this point…

“You two having fun? Whatcha talking about?” Uzuki barged in.

She plopped herself down in the seat in front of Sakuta and turned fully around to face him.

“Hirokawa…”

“Mm?”

“What would you do if the Budokan solo-concert offer turned out to be a dream?”

Uzuki was so close he could reach out and touch her.

That was no illusion.

And he couldn’t convince himself that was the result of him rewriting reality.

“I’d think, ‘I had a really nice dream!’ ”

An extremely Uzuki response.

No matter how he looked at it, she was the real deal.

The same Uzuki he’d always known.

“That’s my Zukki.”

“And I’d be even more motivated to make that dream come true.”

She clasped her hands together, squeezing.

Even this hypothetical was getting her pepped.

“No disappointment?”

“Well, some. But the whole point of Budokan is to get there myself.”

A powerful belief held close to her heart. Also very Uzuki.

“That’s even more Zukki.”

He really couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.

But hearing her talk woke a new impulse inside Sakuta.

He put his notebook and pen case away.

“Azusagawa?” Takumi said when he stood up.

Sakuta shouldered his rucksack.

“You’re skipping class?” Uzuki asked.

“Gonna go search for myself.”

“……Huh?” Takumi gaped at him.

“Should I come with?” Uzuki grinned.

“Nah. This is one I gotta do alone.”

“Cool, cool, cool. Break a leg!”

She hopped up and slapped him on the shoulder. That got him even more fired up, so he said, “Answer roll call for me!” and ran on out of the room.

4

The bell for the start of second period rang just as he left the classroom building.

A few stragglers were running the other way.

“Shit, run!”

“I heard this professor marks late arrivals absent!”

“That’s why I said run!”

Sakuta was going just as fast the other way, up the tree-lined path and out the campus gates.

The road to the station had only a few scattered students on it. Either they didn’t have a second-period class, or they had completely given up… None of them were in a hurry.

Only Sakuta was hustling along like something was hot on his heels.

It wasn’t really college commuting time, so Kanazawa-hakkei Station was empty. The mood on the platform was dozy. But as he reached it, a rapid express bound for Sengakuji came in.

Sakuta let momentum carry him right on in—after the woman who’d been waiting at the doors.

The interior was equally empty.

He could sit on any long red bench he wanted, but even after the train pulled out, Sakuta hovered around the door.

After a year at college, he’d gotten used to the view streaming by.

Most of it was homes; the shops were clustered around the stations.

His mind was entirely on the view outside that window.

So when a voice behind him said, “Skipping?” he jumped.

The speaker was a woman in a pale-blue spring coat. The woman who’d been in front of him at the door.

On closer inspection, he realized he knew her.

A fourth-year at his college—Nene Iwamizawa.

Beneath the coat, she wore a neat white blouse. Her makeup was natural, unobtrusive. He was far too used to the miniskirt Santa look and hadn’t placed her immediately.

“Iwamizawa…you’re not out on a date?”

Her boyfriend, Takumi, was still in that statistics class.

“I’m going to Yokohama to get a headshot for an application.”

Sounding bored, she settled down on the end of the empty bench.

“Job hunting?” he asked, still standing.

“What else?”

“So you’re going for the announcer thing.”

Her clean-cut look was definitely favored by female announcers.

“Someone woke me from a dream, pulled me back to reality, and told me I could be anything I wanted. Announcer or otherwise.”

Nene crossed her legs, flashing a sardonic smile.

“Think you can make it?”

“Probably not the flagship stations.”

She shrugged that off, but her tone didn’t sound desperate. It sounded more like a realistic assessment of her potential.

The train stopped at Kanazawa-bunko Station. A few people got off, and about the same number got on. The car was still fairly empty.

The train pulled out, and once more residential neighborhoods streamed by outside. Quiet streets filled with single-family homes.

“And you? What are you skipping class for?” Nene asked, looking up at him.

But by then, Sakuta’s eyes were on the chart above the door. The next stop was Kamiooka Station. This was where the Keikyu Line—the train he was on now—and the Yokohama Municipal Subway met.

His eyes were on the end of that line.

On the kanji for Shonandai.

“I’ve figured out where I’m going, Iwamizawa. All thanks to you no longer being a miniskirt Santa.”

As he answered, the train slowed down.

Kamiooka Station was up ahead.

“I’m getting off here.”

The train stopped.

“Okay. Well, be grateful.”

Nene fluttered her fingers at him, and Sakuta dove out the doors.

He hadn’t spent much time at this station. Just watched it go by on the way to college. He had to check the signs, and he followed them to the subway platform.

When he’d left campus, he’d had no destination in mind.

He’d just impulsively decided that this was no time to be sitting in class.

Even on the train, he hadn’t yet known where he was going.

But between the former miniskirt Santa and the chart above the door, he’d subconsciously worked it out.

Sakuta got on the blue line, bound for the last stop—Shonandai Station.

The location of the library where he’d first encountered the wild bunny girl.

Half an hour later, he got off the train at the station and was in the streets of Shonandai.

With the subway and the Odakyu Enoshima Line and the Sotetsu Izumino Line all running through here, it was a prime commuter town. Most local towns along the Odakyu lines had similar vibes.

“I think it was…this way?”

Searching his memories, he headed for the library.

He’d come here once before to borrow a book for hiragana Kaede. To scrimp on train fare, he’d ridden his bike, so he wasn’t really familiar with the station area.

But there were enough familiar landmarks in sight that he was sure he was headed in the right direction—and a short while later, he spotted a big park. By this point, the buildings around were getting smaller, the town vibes more relaxed. Searching those streets diligently, he soon spotted the library.

“……”

Just standing at the entrance sent him on a trip down memory lane.

But since it had been an awfully long time, he was weirdly stressing about it.

Pushing those feelings aside, he opened the door and stepped inside.

He was met by the distinctive hush of a library.

Still air. The smell of books.

He could sense people here, but no one was speaking.

It didn’t look like the layout of shelves had changed much.

He headed farther in, checking out the lobby, moving up and down the aisles as if they’d have answers for him.

He looked at every person here.

As if searching for a wild bunny girl.

Of course, she wouldn’t be here.

Mai was on campus, attending classes. Everyone’s eyes were on her. She had no reason to be a bunny girl anymore. He would never run into her here.

He made it across the floor and stopped between two shelves.

There was nowhere else to check.

He’d come here looking for something, but he found nothing.

No answers.

No wild bunny girls—and in fact, Mai could no longer see Miori. That was where Sakuta stood. That was reality.

And that’s why he didn’t know whether to go left or right.

Whether to go forward or turn back.

All he could see was this narrow passage between the shelves.

And then a red knapsack darted across the end of the aisle.

A first-grade girl had been carrying it.

He’d seen her before. She looked just like Mai had in her child-actress days.

She popped out of the aisle three rows up and vanished behind another.

“Wait!” he called on reflex, giving chase.

He immediately took off at a run, making a huge amount of noise.

He should have caught up quick.

But when he peered around the shelf, there was no one there.

“……?”

Was he seeing things?

No, that was her.

He was sure of it.

Then he heard a voice behind him.

“Are you lost again, mister?”

That was unmistakable. He turned around.

“……”

The knapsack kid was standing right there, giving him a curious look.

“I might be really lost this time.”

He was almost certainly the only one who could see her.

Everything he’d been through told him that much.

“Even though you’re all grown up?”

“I’ve been told I’m not mature enough to be worth calling a grown-up.”

“Um, can I help you?” a librarian asked. She must have heard him talking and was giving him a funny look.

She clearly couldn’t see the knapsack kid in front of him. He’d been right.

“Sorry, just talking to myself.”

“Quiet in the library, please.”

“Right.”

The librarian pushed a cart of books away.

Once she was out of sight, he whispered, “You’re an awfully cute ceiling monster.”

“I don’t like monsters!” she said, hugging an illustrated encyclopedia of fish to her chest.

“Then will you help me get rid of mine?” he said, holding out his hand.

She considered that for a moment, then smiled and took his hand.

“Okay!” she said.

5

They got on a local Odakyu Line train to Fujisawa. No one else was on board.

Sakuta sat down in the middle of an empty bench, and the girl from the library perched next to him, keeping her knapsack on.

The train pulled out, swaying comfortably.

And in time with that rhythm, Sakuta began to talk.

“In junior high, I had to believe. In Adolescence Syndrome, I mean. Kaede suddenly had cuts all over her body…and no one else would believe her.”

Sakuta was staring at the empty seat across from them. He could see the knapsack kid reflected in the window, swinging her legs and blinking at him.

“And I don’t think that was the wrong choice.”

The wounds on Kaede’s body had been real. All of that was real to them.

The wounds cut deep into their hearts, bodies, and memories.

“I’ve seen a lot of other strange things. In high school, I found Mai at the library when no one else could see her. I went along with Koga’s future simulation. Then there were two Futabas. Toyohama and Mai switched bodies…and everything with Makinohara and Shouko really happened.”

As was this, right here and now.

Only Sakuta could see the knapsack kid.

No one had looked at her in the library. Or on the road to the station. They’d walked right past the police box. Through the station gates. No one but Sakuta had been able to perceive her at all.

She was sitting quietly on the seat, holding his hand. Her feet didn’t reach the floor, so her legs were just dangling.

She wasn’t a dream or an illusion.

Sakuta could only see her as real.

“So I can’t deny all of that.”

“Why not?” the girl asked, looking up at him.

“I mean, that would be the same as saying none of those things happened.”

“If you don’t want to, then don’t.”

“I wish it was that easy.”

“It isn’t?”

“Someone I love who looks a lot like you told me something.”

Sakuta looked away from the girl, back at the window.

“What?”

“She wants to see the same things I do.”

“That’s hard.”

“That’s why I’m lost.”

The train reached Fujisawa Station.

The doors opened, but Sakuta didn’t get up.

He didn’t have a destination in mind.

While he struggled to find a reason to stand, the knapsack kid hopped to her feet.

“C’mon,” she said, pulling his hand.

He obediently got up, and she pulled him off the train.

“Where are we going?”

“A place where you have memories,” the girl said, pulling him across the platform to a silver Odakyu Enoshima Line train. The interior screens said it was bound for Katase-Enoshima. And next to that was an ad for the new Enoshima Aquarium.

It was a Monday morning, but the aquarium was packed. At the ticket counter, there was a little boy yelling, “I wanna see the dolphins!” and a couple looking at signs, going, “Otters are so cute.”

Sakuta bought a ticket for the knapsack kid, too, on principle, and went inside. The staff member checked the tickets, but only Sakuta’s. The kid was left holding her ticket, blinking.

Inside, they were met not by tanks, but by a staircase they couldn’t see the top of. They took it one step at a time, curious what lay ahead. It really helped build the anticipation of meeting creatures of the sea.

When they reached the second floor, they found themselves surrounded by fish from all over the world. Split up into several areas, they were swimming happily around their tanks. Farther in, they found a tank designed to show how whitebait grew.

The path led on, a gentle downward slope. Partway down, even the ceiling became a tank—a tunnel of manta rays. As they passed under their smiling faces (or what looked like them), the view opened up before them. A big tank showing all the creatures that lived in the Sagami Bay.

A school of sardines were dancing through the tank, their sides glittering like stars in the sky.

“There was something else Mai said…”

“……?”

The girl shot him a questioning look.

“This was where she first realized people couldn’t see her.”

“Have you never been?”

“I have. On a fake date, pretending to be someone’s boyfriend.”

“……?”

The little girl cocked her head, confused.

“Some tanks are the same…but there’s a lot of new things here, too.”

A little boy running past yelled, “I wanna see the capybaras!” followed by a mother yelling, “No running!”

There’d been no capybaras here when he and Tomoe visited.

“Should we check out the capybaras?”

“And the dolphin show!”

“That’s a must-see, yeah.”

“C’mon!”

The knapsack kid happily tugged on his hand.

They watched the entire dolphin show together, staying at the aquarium a full hour and a half. By the time they left, it was past two.

The sun was starting to drift westward, and bathed in that gentle light, they walked along the beach. They headed west along the coast, toward Kugenuma.

Out at sea, they could see surfers bobbing along, like drifting leaves.

Every now and then, one would wash up on the beach and paddle back out, searching for their next wave.

On the sand well above the surf, a group of boys and girls were on the beach volleyball courts. They looked around Sakuta’s age. One slipped on the sand, landing on their butt, and the ball landed right on their head. Everyone laughed.

At this point on the beach, there were some rocks rising out of the water in the bay. One of them looked just like a giant turtle. If turtles really got that big, they could easily join the cast of a kaiju movie.

Sakuta let that view soak in as they climbed the stairs to a concrete deck.

“I watched the fireworks here once.”

He looked back at Enoshima.

“Alone?”

“With Futaba and Kunimi. After there was only one of her again.”

“……”

The girl was looking baffled again.

“You don’t know what I mean, huh?”

“One of your memories?”

“Yeah, a really precious one.”

“Then take good care of it!”

All he could do was manage an awkward smile.

Emotionally, he was nodding. But his Adolescence Syndrome was the source of everything going wrong, and he had to reject that. Even though that might mean Rio had never split in two, and they’d never watched those fireworks.

So instead of responding, he asked the girl, “Will you come to one more place with me?”

“Sure!”

As always, throngs of tourists were crossing Benten Bridge to visit Enoshima.

Sakuta stopped at the dragon lanterns at the head of it.

“Is this where you wanted to go?”

“Yeah.”

Even now, it hurt to be here.

Winter, his second year of high school.

A Christmas Eve—and a rare snow day on Enoshima.

Looking back on his life, he could find no harder decision, nothing more painful.

To protect his future with Mai, he’d chosen to give up on Shouko’s future.

A memory far too painful.

But not one he wanted to forget.

Sakuta knew that experience played a major part in making him who he was.

He didn’t want to deny Adolescence Syndrome and let that moment cease to be.

He couldn’t bring himself to let go of all those warm memories, either.

6

The sun set, but Sakuta was still at the dragon lanterns.

He’d been thinking this whole time.

What was right?

What wasn’t?

What choice should he make?

But no matter how much he thought about it, he never found an answer.

At some point, he realized the knapsack kid was nowhere to be found.

“Where’d she go?”

He looked around but didn’t spot any children anywhere.

“I guess it’s too late for kids to be out and about…”

The sun was down. The wind was getting colder.

Only Sakuta could see her.

He could still feel her little hand on his palm.

Her fingers so small they could only hold two of his.

She’d done her best not to let him go.

He looked around once more.

And his stomach growled.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to get lunch.”

He went back to Katase-Enoshima Station, accompanied by the sounds of his stomach. There was a train waiting, so he got on that and went back to Fujisawa. A place he’d lived so long it was like his own backyard.

The station was full of students and suits on their way home, and Sakuta pushed through the crowds, headed for the family restaurant he worked at.

It was the easiest place for him to grab a bite.

He opened the door and stepped in, and kanji Kaede—in a waitress uniform—called out a greeting.

“Oh, it’s you,” she added, immediately hiding her professional smile. “You’re working today?”

She was acting like they were in their own living room.

“Just stopping in for a snack.”

“Alone?” Her frown deepened.

“I could go for that table,” he said, ignoring her and pointing at a table near the entrance.

He opened the menu and considered his options.

“I’ve got a shift tomorrow, too, so I’ll be home after that ends.”

“Not tonight?”

“It’s your birthday, right? I’m not getting between you and Mai. And seriously, should you be eating all alone? Don’t you have plans?”

“Like I said, a snack. I skipped lunch, and I’m starving.”

He pointed at the “Old-Timey Ramen” on the menu.

“That is not a snack,” Kaede said.

“Just bring it out.”

“It’ll be right out.”

Kaede punched it into her order pad, bowed, and left his table.

Without thinking about it, he watched her go.

She’d been staying with their parents in Yokohama…but that would end tomorrow.

He couldn’t keep this up any longer.

If the two Kaedes met, there was no telling what would happen. He had to settle this before they did.

“Even without the Mitou problem, I can’t exactly just sit back and do nothing.”

It was almost 6:20. Miori would be leaving at 10:50. He didn’t have much more time.

He ate his Old-Timey Ramen, paid, and left the shop. The dinner rush was starting, so he didn’t want to linger, and he didn’t have time to waste anyway.

Sakuta had things to do.

As he walked back toward the station, a petite girl coming his way called out, “Oh, Senpai!”

It was Tomoe, on her way back from college.

“You got a shift?” he asked.

“Why were you here?”

“Searching for myself.”

“You, of all people?”

Tomoe cocked her head, bewildered. Clearly the concept didn’t sit right with her.

Ignoring that, he asked, “Koga, were you never tempted by other colleges?”

“Well, sure. Where’s this coming from?”

“Like I said, I’m doing some soul-searching. Thought it might help.”

“Huh.”

Only half convinced, she gave him a probing look, trying to figure out what he wanted from her.

But for once in his life, Sakuta had no ulterior motives. There was nothing for her to find.

Tomoe must have realized that. It still didn’t sit right, but she said, “It came down to where I am now and a girls’ college in the city. I couldn’t decide until the absolute last second.”

“Why?”

“Going to the same school as you would’ve been upsetting.”

“Come on, seriously?”

“I felt like it was time to move on from our time together.”

She stuck her lips out at him, disgruntled.

“I want a boyfriend of my own—like Nana.”

Her gaze shifted away from him.

“I see.”

“You are so aggravating!”

“I just mean…you’re growing up, Koga.”

“Wha—? Are you making fun of me right now?”

She’d taken that the wrong way.

“This helped. Thanks.”

“Helped how?!”

“Do you have time for this? You start at seven, right?”

Tomoe checked her phone and yelped.

“Augh, that’s in five! Bye, Senpai!”

She ran off into the distance.

Sakuta didn’t watch her go. He just moved on in the opposite direction.

But he wasn’t headed for the station.

His feet brought him to another building on the way. The building housing the cram school he taught at.

A familiar face was already at the elevator, waiting.

Rio noticed him coming and glanced his way.

They stood together, watching the lights counting down from five.

“I hear you’re in a real mess,” Rio said eventually. “Sakurajima-senpai stopped being Touko Kirishima, but everything else is still rewritten?”

“Basically, yeah.”

The elevator doors opened.

Making sure no one else was coming, they got on and pressed the 5.

“You knew, Futaba?”

“……”

The elevator started climbing, swaying a bit.

“That I was wrong about Mitou’s Adolescence Syndrome.”

“……”

“That I was the one rewriting reality.”

“I thought that was one possibility. I couldn’t be sure.”

“But you said you couldn’t help. Even when you could have.”

They were both facing the doors, not looking at each other.

“You always did pick the sneakiest ways to say things,” Rio said with a chuckle.

“You still wanna leave things like this?”

“I do.”

Her voice didn’t waver. She meant it.

“Well, if things go back, feel free to yell at me.”

“Have you found a way to do that?”

“Apparently, I just have to reject Adolescence Syndrome.”

The elevator reached the fifth floor.

“I don’t think that’s the only solution.”

The doors slid open.

“……?”

“……”

He shot her a look, but Rio didn’t respond.

“I guess I’m scared of being happy,” she muttered. Then she headed into the cram school.

“Futaba really does undermine herself at every turn,” Sakuta said under his breath.

He followed her in, and Sara popped out of the free space. “Sakuta-sensei!”

“You with Futaba today?”

“I am! You?”

“Just stopping by.”

“Oh, right! Sakuta-sensei, big news.”

All smiles, she moved in close, like she was sharing a secret.

“Next week, we’re getting a student teacher. Will you be doing the same thing next year?”

“I think the year after next.”

“Aw, that’s sad. I wanted to be in your class!”

“I doubt it’ll be especially fun.”

“But doesn’t it make you glad?”

“What?”

“At least there’s one kid out there excited about having you for a teacher.”

She shot him a triumphant grin.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

It did make him feel pretty good about things.

“Himeji! Time for class!” Rio called. She’d put her white teaching jacket on and was already heading to the classroom cubicles.

“Oh, coming! Later, Sakuta-sensei.”

She waved and ran off after Rio.

“Don’t run in school.”

“I know!”

They vanished into a cubicle.

7

Sakuta left the cram school and rode the elevator back down. When the doors opened, a family was waiting outside—Shouko, in her Minegahara uniform, with her parents in tow.

“Ah!” she yelped, spotting him.

Sakuta got off the elevator. Acting on pure reflex, he asked, “Why are you here?”

He bobbed his head to her parents. They’d met before.

“Go on ahead. I’ll catch up,” Shouko said, waving her parents onto the elevator. They bobbed their heads to Sakuta and headed on in. The doors closed, and it carried them toward the fifth floor.

“You’re joining our school?”

“I’m planning on majoring in medicine, so I figured the sooner I started preparing, the better.”

“Ah.”

He didn’t need to ask why she’d made that choice.

That heart transplant was all the explanation anyone needed.

“I’m not sure if I want to be a doctor yet, but medical degrees are a big help with jobs taking care of people with severe medical conditions, too.”

“Well, for science stuff, you oughtta take Futaba-sensei’s classes.”

“I plan to.” Shouko grinned.

It was the exact same smile the older Shouko used the day she’d saved Sakuta.

A warm, distant memory.

A vital moment that had sustained him.

“……”

“Sakuta?”

“Mm?”

“You’re staring. Am I reminding you of your first love?”

“You reminded me of something important. Something Shouko taught me.”

The kindness he’d received that day had made him who he was.

And would continue to do so.

Feelings that kept his heart warm.

It felt like a reminder of what really mattered.

He had to keep that around, whatever the future held.

And to make that happen, there was something he had to do.

“Sorry, gotta go, Makinohara—you just gave me an idea.”

“Well, I’m glad I could be of assistance, Sakuta.”

The elevator was back, and the doors opened.

Shouko got on, and Sakuta hustled onward to the station.

Two at a time, he went up the stairs to the pedestrian overpass.

He checked the clock at the center, and it was almost seven thirty.

By now, the crowd was mostly business types. Only a few uniformed high schoolers around.

Sakuta cut across that flow, making a beeline for the electronics store.

The overpass led to the second-story entrance. From outside, he could see the bright lights within. And inside—he saw the last person he’d expected.

Hiragana Kaede, in her school uniform.

“Kaede?”

“S-Sakuta?!”

Kaede was even more shocked than he was.

“You’re usually at home by now.”

“Not true! I’m not running super late ’cause I can’t figure out what to get you for your birthday!”

She attempted to hide the package behind her back.

“Aha. You were out this late picking my present.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise!”

“Running into you here this late is a surprise.”

“I’m gonna go find you a present that’ll be an even bigger surprise!”

She tried to turn back.

“Wait, Kaede,” he said. “Instead of a shocking gift, can I ask you something?”

“Ask me what, Sakuta?”

She gave him a curious look and cocked her head.

“Hypothetically speaking, if there were a world much like our own, and that was where you actually belonged, what would you do?”

“……”

This came out of nowhere, and she just gaped at him.

Understandably.

It was a bolt from the blue.

If she’d actually caught his drift from that sentence alone, he’d have suspected her of having psychic powers. He decided to wrap things up here and tell her to forget he’d said anything.

But before he could…

“I’d wanna go home,” she said.

Looking very serious.

Looking right in his eyes.

Speaking her own mind, in clear words. Home.

He wound up gaping at her.

“I found this in my room last night,” Kaede said, digging a diary out of her book bag. Like the one he’d given hiragana Kaede back in junior high—but a different color.

Kaede Azusagawa written on the cover. In kanji.

“According to this diary, my dissociative disorder cleared up in November of my third year of junior high. It says all my memories came back.”

“……”

“I would love to cure this disorder. I’m sure you’d be so relieved.”

“……”

He didn’t know what to say.

He was all too aware of what she meant.

Curing her condition meant becoming the original Kaede again. That meant this Kaede would go away.

“So I want to go back to my actual brother.”

There was a hint of fear. Fear of disappearing.

But her choice didn’t waver.

There was a light in her eyes. She saw her path.

And her decision was the last push he needed.

He took a quiet step onward, the words spilling out unprompted.

“Gotcha. Leave it to me. I’ll make sure you can give him that present.”

“Thanks, Sakuta!”

8

“I’ve got something to take care of.”

“I’ll be waiting for you back home!”

“Get home safe.”

“Will do!”

Hugging the present to her chest, Kaede left. On his own, Sakuta headed farther into the electronics store.

He checked the department guide, found what he was looking for, and took the escalator down to the first floor.

It didn’t take him long to locate it.

He was now in the smartphone department, surrounded by models in every color of the rainbow.

Several dozen minutes were spent on picking a provider, several more on a model, a lot more poring over contracts and paperwork and payment processing. The whole endeavor took nearly an hour and a half, but at last he had gotten what he’d come in for.

A palm-sized rectangular device.

A smartphone.

His phone.

“Will you be taking it as is?” the clerk asked, pushing a tray with the phone toward him.

“I will.”

He picked it up, feeling the slight weight on his palm. Then she gave him a bag with the empty box in it.

“Please come again!”

The polite staff saw him out, and Sakuta stepped out into the street. It was nine. Closing time.

As the staff bustled about locking up, Sakuta turned his phone on. He tapped the call symbol and punched in eleven digits from memory.

“……”

He held it to his ear, listening to it ring.

No signs of anyone answering.

After a few rings, it went to voice mail. A default message played.

“Mai, it’s me. Sakuta. I just bought a phone, so you’re my first call. I’m gonna meet up with Mitou next and was hoping to see you after that.”

With that, he hung up.

He pocketed the phone.

A moment later, it vibrated.

He took the phone back out and checked it. He’d received a text.

It was from Mai.

Got it. I’ll be at Shichirigahama.

He wrote back.

Thanks.

This time he put the phone back in his pocket for good and went up the stairs to the overpass.

It was after nine, but the station was still teeming. The temperature had dropped, and there was a chill in the air. Everyone was hustling by, eyes dead ahead, trying to get home.

Sakuta ducked into the station and found the coin lockers.

He took a single black pen out of his book bag, then shoved it and the smartphone packaging into an empty locker. By pure chance, it was the same locker Mai had used to stash her bunny-girl outfit.

That made him laugh.

Riding that wave, he emerged from the south side of the station.

He passed by the Odakyu Department Store, heading for the Enoden Fujisawa Station. He tapped his train pass on the gates and moved to the platform.

It was late, and there were hardly any passengers around. He walked slowly down the empty platform, listening to the echo of his footsteps. He’d always been here during busy hours, so this silence was novel.

He settled down on an empty bench.

Miori had said she’d be here at 10:50.

That was an hour and a half away.

Sakuta waited patiently, and a train came in. Green and cream, all retro colored.

The doors opened, and a crowd coming in from Kamakura spilled out, while the passengers waiting here got on.

From here, he could tell the train was still pretty empty. Hard to believe—it was normally jam-packed.

Departure time rolled around, and it slowly pulled out.

Another train came. And another. Time seemed to pass in dribs and drabs. Each train had fewer people getting on and off, and the stillness of the station deepened.

By 10:40, Sakuta was the only one left.

And then a train came in.

A few people got off.

And Sakuta spotted a bunny costume among them.

It was hard to miss that pink.

Ikumi was with him.

They spotted Sakuta and came across the platform toward him.

The bunny costume stopped right in front of Sakuta’s bench.

“Are you here to stop Miori Mitou?”

“Of course not. I’m here to see her off.”

“Ready to refute Adolescence Syndrome?”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“……”

The bunny went quiet, trying to gauge what that meant.

“Nor will I forget.”

“Then what’s the plan? Gonna leave the world rewritten?”

“I’m turning Adolescence Syndrome into fond memories.”

“……”

“That’s the right answer, isn’t it?” Sakuta said, looking right up at the bunny.

“I guess you’ll find out.”

The bunny took a few steps toward the gates.

Just as Miori came through them.

She tapped her train pass and stepped onto the platform.

“Hey, Akagi.”

“……What?”

A rare glimpse of Ikumi actually surprised.

“You said what you had to say to the other me?”

That made her look at the bunny’s back.

“I did. Told him I’d always hated him.”

“And?”

“He didn’t know what to do with that.”

A faint smile played around her lips.

“That must have felt good,” Sakuta said with a chuckle.

Miori caught up with him.

“You’re in a good mood,” she said.

“The train’s about to leave. This is the 10:50 for Kamakura, right?”

Sakuta got up from the bench and made to board the train.

“You’re coming, too?” she asked.

“I’m meeting Mai at Shichirigahama later.”

With that, Sakuta got on the Enoden before anyone else.

Sakuta and Miori sat together on the short bench at the end of the car. The bunny and Ikumi were in the other car, giving them space. He could see them sitting not far from the connecting door.

The last Kamakura-bound train left Fujisawa and soon stopped at Ishigami Station. No one got on or off, so it pulled out again. The same thing happened at Yanagikoji, Kugenuma, and Shonankaigankoen.

Eventually, it stopped at Enoshima Station.

“Mitou, give me your hand.”

“Why?” she asked, but she held out her hand.

Sakuta took a black pen out of his pocket and wrote a zero on her palm—then the other ten digits, one at a time.

Miori watched the whole time.

When he was done, the train pulled out again.

Even then, she didn’t take her eyes off the number.

She only looked at him when the train pulled into the streetcar section.

“You bought a phone,” she said, sounding slightly miffed.

Sakuta pulled his new phone out of his pocket and showed it to her.

“The cheapest one.”

“You were so against it yesterday.”

That seemed to be the source of her disgruntlement.

“Take it up with yesterday me.”

“You are obnoxious.”

Miori cackled.

No one else was in the car, so her laugh echoed, hollow.

But she didn’t seem to mind.

When she was done laughing, she said, “Then I’d better tell you mine.”

Smiling, she took something out of her tote bag.

A palm-sized rectangle. A smartphone.

The same model he had.

“You bought one, too.”

“The cheapest one.”

She made that sound like a boast on purpose. She punched in the number he’d written on her hand.

A moment later, his new phone vibrated once.

There was a (1) next to the phone icon on his screen. His call history now had a new eleven-digit number starting with zero. He registered that as Miori Mitou.

“Call me as soon as you get back.”

“It might take years to get Touko back in every world.”

“No matter how many years it takes, I’ll still be your friend.”

“……Right.”

Mitou chewed that over.

“Well, we did trade contact info,” she said, brandishing her phone.

The train passed the Minegahara traffic signals. “Next stop, Shichirigahama,” said a woman’s voice.

With the sound of grinding rails and wheels, they pulled into the station and quietly stopped.

“……”

Sakuta got up without another word.

He’d said what he had to say.

The doors opened.

Just as he was about to get out…

“Azusagawa,” Miori said, in her typical tone of voice.

“……”

He turned back.

“I uploaded the full version of that song. If you want to see me again, give it a listen.”

She flashed him a bashful smile.

From the heart, if a bit awkward.

“Then I’ll listen to it every day,” he said, his heart full of warmth.

He meant it.

“I’m outta here,” Miori said, with quiet strength.

“Yeah, you do that. I’ll be a bit more grown up when you get back,” he said, responding in kind.

He stepped off the train, and on with his life.

The doors closed.

He turned back and watched the train leave the station.

His eyes followed it as it rolled away.

He heard the warning bells of a crossing in the distance. The one by Minegahara High School. He’d heard those every day for three whole years.

One train car after another vanished in that direction.

A short, four-car assembly.

It wasn’t long before he couldn’t make them out anymore.

Only the sound of the bells in the distance.

And even that stopped while he stood there, breathing.

Silence settled over Shichirigahama Station.

Sakuta had been the only person to get off here.

And there’d been no one waiting for the train to arrive.

There were no staff at this hour.

So he was all alone in the station.

Standing on the platform, eyes on where the train had been, Sakuta stared off into the distance toward Kamakura.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood like that.

He only snapped out of it when a voice said, “She left, then.”

He felt that little hand on his again.

He looked down and found the knapsack kid.

She was standing with him on the platform, her hand in his.

“It was the right thing to do.”

“Even though you might not see her again?”

“It’ll work out.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“It’s just like the monsters on the ceiling when I was a kid. When you grow up, they don’t look like monsters anymore.”

“……”

The girl was giving him a strange look.

“So there’s no more monsters?”

“No.”

“Everyone goes away,” she said, hanging her head.

“……That’s not true.” Sakuta spun toward her. “I said it’ll work out, right?”

“……?”

“Even if it doesn’t look like a monster, the marks on the ceiling are still there. They never go away.”

Only your perspective changed. And that was just a change.

It didn’t mean the marks ceased to exist.

“The marks are still up there. I can look at them whenever I want and remember how I used to see a monster in them. So it’s time you also went home.”

He heard the railroad crossing again. He’d crossed that so many times in high school.

“You’ll be okay on your own?”

“I have Mai with me. I’ve got Kaede and our parents. Futaba and Kunimi. Also Koga. Toyohama and Zukki. At college I’ve got Fukuyama, and I’ve got my students at the cram school. Akagi’s out there—and Makinohara’s moved back to town. It’s a regular party.”

A Fujisawa-bound train was coming in from Kamakura. That green-and-cream retro car was very Enoden.

“Don’t get lost again.”

The kid let go of his hand.

The train stopped, and the doors opened.

The girl skipped onto the car.

She turned back toward Sakuta.

“Bye-bye!” she said, waving with a smile.

“Yeah. Bye-bye.”

Sakuta waved back.

The doors closed.

The train pulled out.

The kid was still waving.

Sakuta kept on waving, too.

Until the train was out of sight.

Shichirigahama at night smelled like the sea.

The wind was singing.

Sakuta left the empty station, walking alone toward the ocean’s edge.

He went down that gentle slope. This familiar road led straight to the beach. Soon, he hit Route 134. He got to the light by the convenience store, the one that always took ages to turn green. But for once, he got the walk light right away.

Across that road, there was nothing else between him and the water.

He went down the stairs to the beach.

The sand gently caught his feet.

A beautiful moon hung in the night sky. That made it fairly bright, and Sakuta soon spotted someone standing on a little bridge over a creek that fed into the ocean.

“Mai,” he called, lining up with her.

“Strange. The view here already brings back memories.”

Mai’s eyes were off to the right, toward Enoshima.

“That it does.”

He glanced back and could still see Minegahara High. They’d both gone there, and the view was tightly knit to their time in high school.

That was all in the past now. Before they knew it, it had all turned into fond memories.

He and Mai were on the same page.

“So, Mai…”

“What?”

“I’m thinking about getting a teaching license. Gonna teach at a high school somewhere.”

“Okay.”

Mai’s voice was gentle and accepting. Then her gaze turned toward him.

“What kind of teacher?” she asked.

“The kind of teacher who’ll listen when a student is confused about a bunny girl only they can see. Even if I can’t see her myself.”

“You’ll be good at that.”

“Will I?”

“I guarantee it.”

“Well, if you guarantee it, I’ll have to put the work in.”

“……”

“……”

Their banter faded out. But their eyes were still talking.

“Sakuta.”

“What?”

“Happy birthday.”

“A bit late, Mai.”

“Next year, I’ll say it the moment the date changes.”

Mai took a step closer and put her hand in his.

Their fingers locked together as they stared out at the same ocean.

The same sky, the same moon.

The two of them were seeing the same things and taking the next step together.

Onto the sand they went.

Leaving two rows of footsteps behind them.

1

Sakuta Azusagawa was standing before the gates of Minegahara High, wearing a suit.

It was Monday, May 13. A sunny day.

The time was 7:50 AM.

This early, there was no one else around.

The gates would fill with Minegahara students in the half hour before morning homeroom began.

Feeling like he had the place to himself, Sakuta stepped on through.

As he went up the path to the school, memories came flooding back.

He’d graduated three whole years ago.

This was the fourth spring since he’d started college.

As he got close to the building, he could hear yelling on the basketball court in the gym—balls being dribbled, basketball shoes squeaking.

He pressed on, heading in the faculty entrance. He took off his leather shoes, which he still wasn’t used to, and put on some slippers before climbing the nearby stairs to reach the second floor.

He relied on his memories to locate the faculty office.

The hall itself was empty, but he soon found himself below a door with the sign he’d been looking for.

Sakuta took a deep breath, then opened the door.

“Good morning. Sakuta Azusagawa. I’ll be a student teacher here starting today.”

He bowed, making sure his voice reached the back of the room.

Teachers at every desk turned to look.

Most returned to their work.

A man near the back waved to him.

“This way, Azusagawa.”

It was an English teacher who’d been Sakuta’s homeroom teacher for both his second and third years. Sakuta walked over to him.

“I’m teaching math…and you’re still an English teacher?”

“Atsugi’s on math but doesn’t have a homeroom. We’ll be putting you in mine instead: Class 3-1.”

That made sense.

“Gotcha.”

“But for you to come back as a student teacher, Azusagawa…”

The man looked up at him, impressed.

“Surprising?”

“No, I had a hunch,” he said, looking smug. “You got any requests?”

“If possible, I’d like to try being a club adviser.”

“Any in particular?”

“If it’s still around, the Animal Club.”

“That it is. We’ll look into that later.”

With that, he tossed Sakuta a roll call sheet.

“Right,” Sakuta said, and he began looking over the Class 3-1 roster.

Homeroom kicked off with Sakuta being introduced as the new student teacher. Which meant he had to introduce himself.

“Sakuta Azusagawa. I’ll be teaching math, so I’ll be with your class for homeroom only. I’m a graduate of Minegahara High myself. Looking forward to being here again.”

As he stood before the chalkboard, talking, he could sense the excitement. When he finished, they clapped.

Thirty-five students.

Most looking curious—a few feigning disinterest.

He knew a girl in the front row.

Shouko—now a third-year.

She was grinning from ear to ear, excited that he was here to teach her.

“Azusagawa-sensei! Question!”

A hand shot up at the back.

The smirk on the boy’s face suggested he was the class clown.

Sakuta glanced at the teacher in charge.

He shrugged and let it happen.

“Yes?”

He was well aware what this boy was about to ask. Every student at this school already knew who Sakuta was dating.

“Is it true you’re going out with Mai Sakurajima?”

Exactly as predicted. He couldn’t help but grin.

Sakuta looked around the room.

Impish eyes, still filled with childlike glee.

At the front, Shouko was rolling her eyes.

“It’s true,” he said, after a dramatic pause.

The class erupted.

“Whoa!” “No way!” The boys were excited, but the girls were just squealing.

His student teaching career was off to a strong start.

“Settle down!” the real teacher said, but Class 3-1 was in no hurry to do so.

The same old bell signaled the end of morning homeroom.

The students were still buzzing, but Sakuta left with the teacher, heading to his first-period class. He heard footsteps following them.

“Sakuta,” someone called.

Only Shouko would call him that here.

“Oh, I guess I should say Sakuta-sensei?”

She stuck out her tongue, like she’d goofed up.

“I’d start with Azusagawa-sensei,” he said, but she just laughed that off.

Clearly, she had no intention of ever calling him that.

“What, do you two know each other?” the teacher asked, puzzled.

“Intimately.” Her phrasing was just begging to be misunderstood.

The teacher frowned for a moment, then said, “So he knows about your history?” obviously remembering what really mattered here.

“I do,” Sakuta said.

“That simplifies things. Makinohara’s president of the Animal Club, so that links to our earlier discussion.”

“What discussion?” Shouko asked, turning to Sakuta.

“I was hoping to try advising the Animal Club.”

“Oh, I was about to ask if you could!”

“I didn’t expect you to be running the show,” he admitted.

Shouko grinned like her prank had succeeded.

“That’s why I never told you!”

2

He had classes until sixth period, followed by the end-of-day homeroom. Sakuta also put in an appearance at the Animal Club. By the time his first day of student teaching ended, it was past five, and the skies were dyed by the evening light.

He bid Shouko and the other club members adieu and wrote up a report on his day in the faculty room. It was after six by the time he actually left.

Since most students had left by then, he saw no uniforms on the road to Shichirigahama Station. Once again, he had the place to himself. Inside the station, he boarded the Enoden—just like he had every day in high school—and rode it back to Fujisawa Station.

He followed the other passengers off and passed through the bustling gates. At this hour, it wasn’t just locals—there were still plenty of tourists around.

Sakuta left the Enoden Fujisawa Station, heading for the north exit. On the way, the crowd he was with merged with the crowd exiting the JR Odakyu gates.

He was crossing the pedestrian overpass, one eye on the lights of the electronic store, when hands blocked his eyes.

“Guess who!” a familiar voice cried.

“Himeji.”

“Bzzt, wrong!” she lied cheerily, letting go of him.

Sara circled around in front of him, showing off her stylish outfit.

“It’s Sara Himeji, now a college girl!” she said, clapping her hands.

Tomoe was with her.

“Haven’t seen either of you lately.”

“Senpai, you quit the restaurant what, two months ago? Haven’t seen you since the farewell party. You look all old now.” Tomoe cackled, eyeing his suit.

“You’ll be job hunting next year, Koga. Be careful.”

“Of what?”

“Looking like you’re heading to Shichi-Go-San.”

“No risk of that,” she scoffed, as if the very idea was absurd.

An argument came from the last source she’d expected.

“I dunno, Tomoe-senpai. Today on campus you got mistaken for a freshman! They invited you to join a club and everything!”

There was a mean glint in Sara’s eye.

“Only because I was walking with you, Himeji!”

She was adamant that wasn’t her fault.

“Welp, we’ll find out next year!”

“I’m gonna make damn sure I never run into you with my suit on.”

“I’ll take a picture and send it to you!” Sara promised in a stage whisper.

“Still, Himeji, I didn’t expect you to pick the same girls’ college as Koga.”

“It’s a great school for future kindergarten teachers!”

“That’s also unexpected.”

“Sakuta-sensei, do you think I’m a total loser who only lives to have boys lining up for me?”

“Can’t say I haven’t wondered,” he admitted, wincing.

“I don’t even need boys on campus. There are plenty of mixers!”

She didn’t even sound remotely guilty.

“Oh, but Tomoe had me beat yesterday,” Sara said, sticking her tongue out.

“Did she now?”

“That was not a mixer! It was a regular inter-college networking event!”

Tomoe sounded a mite desperate.

“And everyone wanted your number.”

“Did they now?”

“W-well, we’ll be helping out with each other’s culture festivals…”

Tomoe’s denial was losing steam.

“I’ve got a shift! Bye!”

“Ack, wait! I’m on the same schedule!”

Tomoe ran for it, and Sara went after her.

But a second later, she yelped and turned back.

“Did you hear from Rio-sensei yet?”

“About what?”

“Tora finally asked her out again.”

“Well, that’s good news. I’m on my way to the cram school now.”

“Later,” Sara said, smiling and waving. And turned to pursue Tomoe again.

Inside the cram school, Sakuta found several students chatting in the free space. A group of girls were getting worked up about someone’s new boyfriend.

“Oh, Azusagawa. Nice suit!” the cram school principal said. He was buying a can of coffee from the vending machine.

“Started student teaching today,” he explained.

“If you fail to get hired on, you can stay right here!”

“I’ll do my best to avoid that fate.”

The principal laughed and went back to the faculty room.

He was replaced by Rio, who emerged from a classroom wearing her white teacher’s jacket. She must have just finished a lesson.

“Futaba,” he said, and her gaze locked on him.

“Started today?” she said, seeing his suit. “Shouko texted me about it.”

“What’d she say?”

“Your introduction was a big success.”

“I’m off to a great start.”

“Shouko seemed delighted, so good for you.”

Rio headed for the vending machines. She held her phone up and bought a café au lait.

“By the way, Futaba.”

“What?”

She opened the cap and took a sip.

“No news to share?”

“Not really.”

Her gaze shifted away. She was clearly hiding something.

“A little bird told me Kasai asked you out again.”

“……”

She gave him such a glare. But her ferocity failed to hide the blush.

“I was worried when he had a fever and failed his first-choice exam, but he waited a year, tried again, and got where he wanted to be.”

It had nearly been the end of the world when he’d gotten those results back. Especially since the mock exam he took right before it had been a rock-solid A.

“What’d you tell him?”

“We ate together,” Rio said softly.

“Where?”

“The campus cafeteria.”

Even softer.

“Not the most romantic date spot…”

“And we agreed to go to Tsukuba together,” she admitted, not meeting Sakuta’s eye.

“What is there to see in Tsukuba?”

“I’m touring the space center. He’s tagging along.”

“Sounds fun. Maybe I should join you.”

“……”

That earned him a genuinely hostile look.

“I’m kidding.”

This earned him her most dramatic sigh.

“Tell me, Azusagawa.”

“Mm?”

“Should I give him a real answer on our third date?”

She wasn’t meeting his gaze, but her cheeks were bright red.

“I suppose that’s a solid rule of thumb.”

“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Toranosuke had been carrying a torch for Rio for two whole years, so he’d probably wait as long as she needed, but he didn’t tell her that.

3

A week into his student teaching—Monday, May 20.

Sakuta was woken by Nasuno treading on his face, and he left his room to find Kaede making breakfast. The living room already smelled like toast.

“Oh, Sakuta, morning.”

“Morning.”

“You’ve got a break from student teaching and are back on campus today, right?”

“Yeah.”

He took a sip of the coffee she’d made.

“I’m going with Nodoka on her way to work. You want a ride?”

“Sure. I had something to say to Toyohama anyway.”

With that, Sakuta took a big bite of toast.

They left in time to get to second-period classes and were making smooth progress toward their college.

Nodoka was at the wheel. Kaede was in the passenger seat, Sakuta in the back.

It was Mai’s car, but there was no sign of her.

“Toyohama,” he said.

“What?”

They were stopped at a red light.

“I heard Sweet Bullet finally got a show at the Budokan.”

“I guess,” she said evasively.

“It was trending yesterday.”

“I had all those dreams about it, and it’s finally happening.”

“Congratulations, Nodoka!” Kaede piped up.

“Thanks. It’s also our last show, so kinda hard to be that hyped about it.”

This was why she wasn’t jumping for joy.

“I mean, I am happy,” she said in brighter tones—before she brought down the mood.

“What’ll you do once you graduate from the idol biz?”

“First thing? I’m gonna go home.”

This was half to herself, and not enthusiastic.

“You’ve been running away for a while now. Definitely time to sort things out. Tell Zukki congrats from me, will you?”

“Tell her your damn self.”

The light turned green, and the car took off.

“Yeah, I guess I will.”

Sakuta took his phone out of his pocket and sent Uzuki a text.

Congrats on the Kokugikan gig.

It was marked to read right away, and she answered a moment later.

Yup, I’m gonna be a yokozuna! No, wait, it’s the Budokan!

“Playing along with the gag? Zukki’s growing.”

“What are you talking about, Sakuta?” Kaede asked, but before he could answer, the phone rang.

Naturally, the screen showed Zukki.

And on closer inspection, he noticed it was a video call.

He tapped the answer button and held the phone up in front of his face.

On the other side he could see her in extreme close-up.

“What’s up, Zukki? You’re very close.”

“You’ve gotta come to our Budokan show!” she yelled, moving the phone a bit farther away. It looked like she was also in a car.

“If I can get a ticket.”

“You have to! Tell him, Mom!”

The phone turned toward the driver’s seat. Uzuki’s mom had her hands on the wheel. “I’m driving!” she yelled, pushing the phone away.

The video call cut out.

“Very Zukki.”

No consideration for his needs.

“Still, you gotta laugh,” Nodoka said, actively laughing.

“Too happy to stop?” Sakuta asked.

“I mean, hearing you talking about trending topics.”

Nodoka laughed even louder.

In the passenger seat, Kaede was nodding. “Very true,” she said, chuckling.

Nodoka got them to Kanazawa-hakkei Station a solid fifteen minutes before second period.

“Thanks, Nodoka!” Kaede said.

The car pulled away, and Sakuta and Kaede ambled off toward campus.

As they stepped through the main gates, they saw someone they recognized up ahead.

“Komi, hello!” Kaede called, and she ran to catch up.

Kaede’s childhood friend Kotomi Kano turned back at her name.

“Kae, hi. And Sakuta, too,” she added, seeing him and bobbing her head.

“Morning.”

The three of them moved down the tree-lined lane.

“Did you do your English homework, Komi?”

“Not yet. Wanna do it together?”

“Please!”

Chatting about classes, the two girls turned off toward the main building. Sakuta alone kept going down the lane, to the research building at the end of it.

“I’m going this way,” he said.

“Oh, right. Later!”

Kotomi bowed her head again, and they headed off, chattering away.

“You don’t have to be so tense around him.”

“I do.”

“What? Why?”

At the research building, he talked to his professor about his graduation thesis for an hour or so, then headed to the cafeteria.

Classes were in session, so it was fairly empty, and he planned to grab an early lunch.

Clearly, he was not the only one—he saw a familiar face just inside the door.

“Why you here, Azusagawa? Aren’t you student teaching?” It was Takumi Fukuyama, who shared his statistical science major.

“Day off,” he said. They moved on into the cafeteria.

“You had nothing better to do than come to campus?”

“I had to make sure my graduation-thesis theme was acceptable.”

At the rice-bowl counter, he ordered the yokoichi-don. “Same for me,” Takumi said.

This dish involved a poached egg on sweet-and-spicy ground chicken over rice. Armed with their meals, they found a table by the windows. Takumi sat across from him.

“So what is your thesis?”

“ ‘Regional Generalized Beliefs Derived from Social Media Postings.’ ”

“What’s the abstract going to be?”

“What exactly is ‘everyone’?”

“……That’s not gonna be easy to pin down.”

“That’s why the professor told me to narrow the scope.”

“Where would you even begin?” Takumi asked, scooping meat and rice into his mouth.

“I got an okay by narrowing it down to teenage beliefs.”

“Oh I see. Still sounds hard.”

“Why brings you here today, Fukuyama?”

“Also thesis related. I was in the computer lab, revising mine.”

They both made short work of their meals.

Sakuta grabbed two cups of tea from the drink bar.

He sat down and took a sip.

“Oh, right, Azusagawa,” Takumi said, looking unusually serious.

“What’s this? She dump you? Sorry to hear it.”

“She did not!”

“What is it, then?”

“I landed a job in Hokkaido.”

That sure was a reminder than they were both college seniors.

“Doing what, where?”

“Data management at a TV station. Liaising with other companies, ratings, consumer-satisfaction surveys.”

“Isn’t that risky?”

“How so?”

“I mean, your girlfriend’s an announcer at that same station. Since last year.”

“I was worried, so I ran it by Nene, and she said, ‘What? It’s not like I’m a news anchor in Tokyo. No one will care.’ ”

“Then congrats on your future employment.”

He lifted his teacup.

Takumi lifted his as well, and they tapped them together.

“So once I graduate, I won’t see much of you.”

“Don’t worry about it. That’s what graduation means.”

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

There was a stir at the door. Second period had ended, and the lunch rush was starting.

Without a word, both Sakuta and Takumi picked up their trays. They dropped them at the return counter and got out before it got too crowded.

“What’re you up to next?” Takumi asked.

“Gonna rummage through past theses, see if I can find anything that’ll help with mine.”

“Then we’re headed to the same place!”

They started walking toward the library.

4

Just past three, Takumi left for his shift at work. Sakuta was still looking for any useful papers.

Before he knew it, it was getting dark out.

He printed out the material he needed and left campus before the sun fully set.

The same short walk to the same old station.

Enough time had passed since the end of fourth period, and there were few students around.

He made it to the station in three minutes.

Through the gates and onto the platform, where he found someone he knew waiting.

Ikumi Akagi was standing right where the doors would stop. No one else was in line. She heard him coming and glanced up, but she immediately looked back at the tracks.

Sakuta winced at that but stood next to her.

“Been a while.”

“There’s loads of room elsewhere,” she said, glaring down the platform.

“Nursing school fourth-years also doing residencies?” he asked, despite this.

It had been at least a year since they’d seen each other. The nursing program was on a different campus from the second year on, so they didn’t really run into each other much.

“Half our time,” she said tersely.

“In nurse uniforms?”

“In uniforms.”

“Nice.”

“Wanna see?” Ikumi asked, shooting him some side-eye.

Unexpected. She was already pulling her phone out of her purse.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Here you go.”

She turned the screen his way.

There was a photo on it.

It certainly showed a college girl in a nurse uniform.

But not Ikumi.

“Why are you showing me Kamisato?”

“Don’t have a pic of myself.”

An extremely normal reason.

He really couldn’t picture Ikumi getting giddy and snapping a selfie the first time she put the uniform on.

“She said she went to the amusement park with her firefighter boyfriend last week.”

Ikumi pointedly showed him a relevant photo from their chat. Saki was wearing the theme park’s trademark cartoon ears on her head, while Yuuma munched on some popcorn.

“I didn’t ask about Kamisato.”

“They’re both classmates of yours from high school.”

“So how have you been doing, Akagi?”

“Meaning?”

She knew what he meant but asked anyway.

“Do you have a boyfriend? Get back with anyone?”

“I’m doing fine.”

That was neither a yes nor a no.

“Well, fine is best.”

“Are you fine, Azusagawa?”

“I’m blissfully happy.”

“That’s the actual best.”

A train pulled in. An express bound for Haneda Airport.

Ikumi boarded ahead of him, and he caught a trace of a smile on her lips.

Sakuta split up with Ikumi at Yokohama, transferring to the Tokaido Line and taking that home to Fujisawa.

It was half past six, and the train was packed with students and suits on their way home. People transferring from the Odakyu to the JR lines, or vice versa.

Sakuta joined the throng heading out of the station’s north gate.

He had no other plans today.

He was just going home.

Past the electronics store, away from the bustle of the station. Down the stairs from the overpass, across the street at the light. By the time he reached the bridge over the Sakai River, it was quiet all around.

Sakuta slowly walked up the gentle sloping road, and a car passed him. It was the white minivan that Mai’s manager drove.

The brake lights came on, and it pulled to a stop twenty yards ahead.

The door opened, and Mai got out of the back seat.

“Welcome home, Mai.”

“Nice to be back.”

They started walking together.

“How goes the Taiga drama shoot?”

“It’s coming along nicely. The whole cast is talented, and the crew are very reliable. Shoots run Monday through Friday, no overtime.”

Mai’s tone was upbeat.

“You’re having fun, then.”

“It’s a meaty role. Shame it forced me to take another year off college, but…”

“I could stick around another year?”

“You go on and graduate. You’re meant to be a teacher.”

“If they hire me.”

“You’ll have to work for it.”

Mai wasn’t letting him off the hook.

“I will,” he said, and she smiled with a satisfied nod.

“Student teaching going well?”

“The students like me. They’re calling me Sakuta-sensei now.”

“So they’re not taking you seriously,” Mai teased.

“I’ve very popular. If only ’cause I’m going out with you.”

“That’s fine.”

She was laughing again.

“But I may have one problem. They’re all after romantic advice…”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“Well, I’m enjoying it.”

He wasn’t yet in a position where he’d call his workload “meaty.” But he felt pretty good about becoming the person he’d wanted to be. He was finding that kind of job satisfaction.

“Oh, Mai, you eat yet?”

“Nope.”

“Then come over. I’ll whip something up.”

“Sure. I’ll help.”

This everyday banter had brought them in sight of their buildings.

5

The next day was May 21—the start of midterms.

Sakuta’s job was to hand out the test sheets.

And monitor the exams so no one cheated.

The rest of the time was just sitting quietly, listening to the sound of pencils on answer sheets.

Finally, the bell rang, ending the test.

“Okay, pencils up,” he said, and they passed the answer sheets to the front.

He’d always been on the other end of the testing process, so being the teacher was certainly novel. A very different feeling from the more personalized lessons at the cram school.

There were only three subjects today—English, Japanese, and math.

So when the third period ended, a sense of relief hung over the room. All the tension drained from the students as they talked about how they’d done, or how badly they’d done. Most were just glad it was over…

Post-test vibes hadn’t changed since he was a student here.

End-of-day homeroom wrapped up, but quite a few students stuck around anyway—clearly putting off getting ready for tomorrow’s testing.

“Get on home and crack those books,” he said, leaving the room. He heard some grumbles behind him but paid them no mind.

Sakuta had a lot on his plate. He had to get back to the faculty office, write up a report, and give the teacher in charge a breakdown of his day.

He hurried on down the hall.

Most rooms had similar numbers of lingering students, all dragging their feet.

But he passed two rooms with no one inside.

Both were unused classrooms.

He assumed the next would be the same—but heard a voice inside.

“Like I said, no one believes me.”

A grim tone.

He peeped in and saw a girl on her own.

She’d been talking to someone, but there was no one else there.

“I’d love to do something, but…”

She was still talking.

To empty air.

“What’s wrong?” Sakuta asked, leaning in the door.

“?!”

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin.

“……”

She spun around and then froze.

In the silence, there was a cheery voice from the hall. “Oh, Sakuta-sensei! Byyyye!”

Four boys from Class 3-1 were shuffling past. The others joined the first, chorusing, “Byyye!”

The first one was the same boy who’d asked him if he was dating Mai Sakurajima when he’d just started student teaching. This boy took a look inside the room and saw the girl standing there.

“Better not get involved with her. She sees ghosts!” he whispered.

With that, he and the other boys went off, laughing about something else.

Sakuta was alone in the hall.

And the girl alone in the classroom.

“Uh, I’m a student teacher…”

“Azusagawa-sensei, right?” the girl said, getting ahead of him.

It was obvious her guard was up.

“You’re well-informed.”

“You’re famous.”

“Because of Mai?”

“……”

The girl just nodded.

“Can you really see ghosts?”

“Better not get involved.”

Clearly, she’d heard the boy’s whisper.

“But there’s one here now, right?”

“……Huh?”

His question seemed to surprise her.

“……Can you see him?” she asked hesitantly.

“Afraid not. But I do believe you.”

“……”

She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Or what to do next.

“If you want, I can lend an ear.”

“……”

She was still dithering.

“I’ll be teaching here until next Friday.”

“……”

No answer. She was just standing there, thinking.

“That’s all I wanted to say. Sorry to interrupt.”

With that, he turned to go.

“Wait!”

“……”

He turned back, and the girl took a step closer to him.

“I’m Rin Ebina. Class 3-2.”

“Sakuta Azusagawa. Blooming Taro, and the highway rest stop.”

“Can I…trust you?”

Rin Ebina looked right up at him. Her eyes wavered with fear and consternation. And a dollop of hope.

“I’m trusting you, Ebina.”

The rest was up to her.

He looked her right in the eye, hoping that message got across.

And her expression seemed to ease a bit.

When Sakuta left Minegahara that day, it was just past one—and the sun was still high in the sky. It gave off a pleasant, warm light.

He was starting to sweat a bit in his suit, so he took the jacket off at the railroad crossing. Loosened his tie, too.

No sign of any students around.

The tests had wrapped up in the AM, and they were long since back home.

A train slowly rolled by, and the gates came up.

He crossed the tiny bridge over the creek, and Shichirigahama Station was right in front of him. A tiny single-rail station. Just the gates standing there like scarecrows.

He tapped his card on them.

After school let out, this station would be packed with students, but for now, it was empty.

He put his things and jacket down on a bench and stood next to it, waiting for the train.

It was a relaxing atmosphere. Time passed slowly.

After a ten-minute wait, he heard the clatter of the railroad crossing.

A minute later, the train showed itself.

It rolled slowly to a stop.

The doors opened.

He picked up his belongings and went to get on the train.

But out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that jogged his memory.

A woman getting off the train, one car down.

Sakuta paused on the platform.

Shoulder-length hair, worn half up.

A military jacket over a dress.

She was about his age.

“Doors closing,” a station staff person announced.

This train was bound for Fujisawa. Sakuta should be boarding it.

But his feet were glued to the platform, refusing to budge.

He couldn’t even wiggle a toe.

Only the upper half of him would move.

His eyes turned toward the half-up girl.

He got a clear look at her.

The train doors closed, and the departure bell rang.

The half-up girl caught his gaze and looked his way.

Their eyes met.

She frowned, clearly baffled.

That was a natural reaction.

Only the hairstyle and clothing matched.

Everything else about her was nothing like the girl Sakuta knew.

No teardrop mole below her eye.

“What, you know him?” the woman next to her asked.

“Nope, never seen him before.”

Her gaze slid off his face, and she tapped her train pass to the gate, leaving the station.

Sakuta didn’t watch her go.

Weirdly, he wasn’t disappointed.

He was just laughing at himself.

If she knew he was starting to see her in total strangers, she’d tease him for it. Laugh in his face. Ask “Did you miss me that much?” with mischief in her eyes.

He could see her doing just that, and that’s what made him laugh.

He put his stuff back on the bench, shrugging off the error. The train to Fujisawa had just left, and he’d be here for a while until the next.

While he waited, Sakuta pulled a pair of wireless headphones out of his jacket pocket. He put them in his ears and fired up the music app on his phone.

With practiced ease, he picked out a song from his list of favorites.

A Touko Kirishima song.

It was called “Turn the World Upside Down.”

This was the full version she’d left right before leaving on her journey.

A lot was wrapped up in that song.

“I bet you’re still out there singing somewhere.”

The smile on his lips was warm.

“Singing this song.”

Sakuta’s finger tapped the play button.

I’m glad I met you.