Seishun Buta Yarou Series - Volume 1 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – The Price of Making Up

1 

Unfortunately, the day after he pissed Mai off came and went without Sakuta finding a chance to apologize. 

He’d hoped they might end up on the same train that morning, but no such luck. Not wanting to waste time, the moment first period ended, he went straight to Class 3-1 (her class), but she was nowhere to be found. 

He tried asking a girl near the classroom door, but she just looked annoyed. “Sakurajima? I dunno, is she even here today?” she said before immediately turning back to her friends. “So yesterday…” 

“……” 

He scanned the Mai-less room. Boys laughing like idiots, girls squealing at each other’s stories—the room was filled with noise. Classrooms between periods were the same no matter what year the students were in. He imagined Mai sitting alone, surrounded by this commotion, and felt a pang in his chest. 

“Where’s she sit?” 

“Huh? Oh, over there.” 

The girl pointed at the back seat in the row second from the windows. After confirming that there was a schoolbag hanging from it, Sakuta returned to his own classroom. 

He visited her class during every break after that, but Mai was never there. Her bag always was, and the textbook for her next subject was out on the desk, so she was clearly here—but his efforts to find her were in vain. 

His final chance was after school. Sakuta made a beeline for the exit the instant homeroom ended. He kept a close eye on his surroundings, searching for Mai. He waited like that for twenty minutes. 

When it became clear he’d missed her, he left the gates behind, checking along the road on the way to the station. No sign of her. Mai wasn’t waiting on the platform in Shichirigahama Station, either. 

Not only had he been unable to make up with her, he hadn’t even caught a glimpse of her. 

When this continued for three more days, even an idiot would realize she was intentionally avoiding him. 

And unfortunately, she clearly had no plans to stop. 

Two weeks passed like this. Mai was still avoiding Sakuta completely. 

The day before, he’d stood in the station for an hour hoping to catch her, but that got nowhere. She must have walked all the way to the next station. 

This was a tough nut to crack. 

Perhaps she’d mastered these techniques avoiding paparazzi. It was like she could turn to mist. 

“That land mine I stepped on was even worse than I thought.” 

Mai’s evident determination was making that fact clearer by the day. 

Urging her to go back to work had made her angry, but the trigger had almost certainly been the word manager. 

Was this the reason she’d gone on hiatus and why she was hesitant to go back to work despite harboring a clear desire to do so? 

Sakuta used a school computer in an attempt to ascertain why Mai Sakurajima had taken a break from acting, but all he found was uninformed speculation and malicious rumors. Overworked? Gotta be something to do with a producer. Man problems. Nothing worth reading. 

His only option was to ask her directly, but that wasn’t possible as long as she kept avoiding him. He was at an impasse. 

Certain that chasing her was getting him nowhere, Sakuta decided one day that he needed a change of pace. He was on cleaning duty, but once he wrapped that up, he headed for the science lab. 

To see his other friend. 

He knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for an answer. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, shutting the door behind him. 

“You are. Go away.” A curt response. 

There was only one student in the rather large lab. She was at the desk the teacher used during classes, in front of the blackboard. On the desk were an alcohol burner and a beaker. She didn’t bother looking in Sakuta’s direction. 

She was only slightly over five feet tall, on the small side, and wore glasses. The white lab coat over her uniform certainly drew the eye. She had unusually good posture, which added to the “cool” vibe she gave off. 

Her name was Rio Futaba. A second-year student here at Minegahara High. She’d been in the same class as Sakuta and Yuuma the year before. She was the sole member of the Science Club. The experiments she did there had caused the school’s power to fail and started a small fire, so she had a reputation for being weird. Her signature white lab coat only made things worse. 

Sakuta pulled a nearby chair over, sitting down across the desk from Rio. 

“How you been?” 

“Nothing’s happened worth reporting to you.” 

“Tell me something fun!” 

“You sound like a typical bored high school student. Don’t waste my time with that nonsense.” 

She looked up long enough to glare. Maybe he really was interrupting. 

“I’m a student, and I’m bored, so you’re right on the money.” 

Rio ignored his attempt to keep the conversation going and used a match to light the alcohol burner. Then she filled the beaker with water and placed it on the flame. Some sort of experiment? 

“What’s gotten into you, Azusagawa?” 

“I’ve got nothing to report, either.” 

“Liar. You’re obsessed with a former child actress.” 

There was no need to puzzle out who she meant. That could only be Mai. 

“She escaped that label a long time ago. She’s a real actress now.” 

But since she was on hiatus, perhaps that term didn’t quite apply, either. 

“Who told you that anyway?” 

“Stupid question.” 

“Right, it would have to be Kunimi.” 

Yuuma was the only one who knew what was going on with him. And the only people in school who would talk to the weirdo in the white lab coat were Yuuma and Sakuta. QED. 

“He’s worried about you. You’re getting yourself mixed up in trouble again.” 

“Hey, what do you mean by again?” 

“Can’t even imagine what it would take to worry about someone like you. Kunimi is too pure for this world.” 

“If you ever figure out how he does it, you’ll have to tell me.” 

The phrase great personality was coined for Yuuma specifically. Sakuta believed this wholeheartedly. 

Last year, when talk of the hospitalization incident was flooding the school, Yuuma was the only one who kept treating Sakuta the same way. Not only did he not believe the rumors, but when they were paired together in gym class, he’d directly asked if they were true. 

“Of course they aren’t.” 

“I figured.” Yuuma had grinned. 

“…You’ll take my word for it?” 

Sakuta had been taken aback. The bulk of the class had immediately believed the gossip, distancing themselves without even bothering to ask. 

“I mean, it’s not true, right?” 

“No, but…” 

“I’ll take the word of the person in front of me over some anonymous Internet source any day.” 

“You’re the worst, Kunimi.” 

“Huh? Where’d that come from?” 

“Between your face and your personality, you’re the enemy of all men.” 

“Riiiight.” 

That had been about a year ago. He and Yuuma were still thick as thieves. 

As Sakuta stared vacantly at the burner flame, thoughts still abuzz… 

“The world just isn’t fair,” Rio said, pity evident in the gaze she leveled on him. “To think that people could turn out so differently.” 

“I’d rather not be compared to Kunimi.” 

“I only do it out of spite. Pay no mind.” 

“How could I not? But, well, guys like him in particular always have freakish fetishes they keep under wraps. That’s how the world maintains balance in the distribution of amazing personalities.” 

“You’re at rock bottom today, Azusagawa,” Rio sighed. 

“How so?” 

“You’ve got a friend seriously worried about you, and here you are talking about him behind his back.” 

He couldn’t very well argue with that. 

“…The gap between me and Kunimi overwhelms me sometimes.” 

“That, and…” Rio allowed a meaningful pause. 

“What?” 

The water in the beaker was starting to boil. 

“You finally got over Makinohara.” 

“…Kunimi said the same thing. Why bring her up?” 

“You should know the answer to that better than anyone.” 

Rio killed the flame on the burner and poured the hot water into a mug. Then she added instant coffee. Apparently, she was not doing an experiment. 

“Can I get a cup?” 

“I’m afraid I only have the one mug. You could use this mixing cylinder?” 

The long, thin glass tube was a foot tall. Rio seemed to think this was a viable option. 

“If I tried to drink coffee out of that thing, it would all pour out at once, and I’d burn myself.” 

“We should do an experiment to see if your hypothesis is correct. Besides, that is the only other available container.” 

“Why not use the beaker you boiled the water in?” 

“That would be boring,” she grumbled. But she nevertheless added some instant coffee to the remaining water in the beaker. 

“Any sugar?” 

“I don’t use it.” 

Rio pulled a plastic bottle out of a drawer and placed it in front of him. The label read MANGANESE DIOXIDE. 

“You sure this is safe?” 

“That’s probably sugar inside. It’s white anyway.” 

“There are countless other white powders. Even I know that.” 

But he also knew that manganese dioxide was black. 

“Best to try only a little bit at a time to make sure,” Rio suggested. 

Sakuta elected to take his coffee black instead. 

Rio looked vaguely disappointed. She lit the alcohol burner again. He wondered if it was for an experiment this time, but the answer became apparent when she put a grill over it and began toasting a dried squid. Its legs curled up on the heat. 

“Can I have some?” 

He wasn’t sure if it would go well with coffee, but the fragrant smell was making him hungry. 

Rio tore off a single squid leg and gave it to him. 

Munching on that, Sakuta finally broached his main topic. 

“Futaba…is it possible to just stop being able to see a person?” 

“If you’re worried about your eyes, see an optometrist.” 

“That’s not what I meant… Like, what if they’re definitely there, but people can’t see them. Like they’re invisible.” 

In Mai’s case, not only did people not see her, they couldn’t hear her voice, either, so invisible wasn’t quite right…but might as well start there. 

“Is this for when you sneak into the girls’ toilets?” 

“I’m not into scat, so at least make it the locker rooms when you bad-mouth me.” 

“You’re a rascal and always will be.” 

Rio reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. 

“Who are you calling?” 

“The police.” 

“They can’t take action until a crime has taken place.” 

“Good point.” 

She put the phone away. 

“But for your original question, the process of sight is covered in our science textbook. Read the sections on light and lenses.” 

She produced the book in question and slid it across the desk toward him. 

“I’m asking you because that sounds like too much work.” 

Sakuta sent the book back. 

Rio took a bite of squid, unconcerned. 

“Light is the key. Light strikes objects, and the light reflecting off them enters our eyes, allowing us to perceive colors and shapes. In darkness, without light, we can’t see a thing.” 

“Reflections…” 

“If that isn’t making sense, think of sound instead. Like how dolphins communicate with sound waves.” 

“You mean…how they measure distance by judging how sound waves reflect off things?” 

“Yes. They can even tell the shape of objects. Just like a ship’s sonar. It can be hard to picture with light because we’re only really conscious of light hitting our eyes when it’s really bright.” 

“Huh.” 

“But glass is translucent and doesn’t reflect light, so it’s harder to see.” 

“Ohhh, yeah. That’s true.” 

Did that mean light wasn’t reaching Mai for some reason? For a movie star on hiatus, that phrasing just sounded spiteful. 

Sakuta wondered if he should consider the idea that, like colorless, translucent glass, Mai’s body wasn’t reflecting light. Sadly, even if that were the case, it still left a lot of things unexplained. 

Like people not hearing her voice. Or how some could see her while others couldn’t. Her situation seemed much more complicated. 

“Well, I think that helped.” 

“Really?” Rio asked, deeply suspicious. 

“Futaba, you think I’m an idiot, right?” 

“No.” 

“Then you think I’m a mega idiot?” 

“You know exactly what I’m trying to say, but you waste time asking anyway. It’s obnoxious.” 

“So harsh.” 

“I think you can take a hint, but you’re obnoxious enough to pretend you can’t.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry! Please, no more barbs!” 

“The way you wriggle out of it like that is even worse.” 

Rio impassively took a sip of coffee. 

Sakuta decided it would be best to get the conversation back on track. 

“Uh, let’s be a little more specific. Say I’m sitting here right in front of you. Is it possible you wouldn’t be able to see me?” 

“If I close my eyes.” 

“If your eyes are open and looking directly at me?” 

“It’s possible.” 

That was the opposite of the answer he’d expected. What’s more, there had been no hesitation. 

“I just have to be focused on something else or be really out of it. So much so, I don’t notice you’re here.” 

“No, that’s not what I…” 

“Hear me out. Let’s stop looking at this in terms of light. Where sight is concerned, the workings of the human brain can have more of an effect than the actual physics involved.” 

Rio must have run out of coffee, because she filled another beaker and placed it above the alcohol lamp. 

“For example, to your eyes, I might look small, but to a child, I’d look pretty big.” 

“You’re objectively big, Futaba. You try to hide it under the white lab coat, but even then, I can tell.” 

His gaze locked onto the swell of her chest. 

“Y-you leave my breasts out of this!” 

She folded her arms protectively across herself. Very feminine. 

“Oh, sorry, sensitive subject?” 

“You have no concept of tact or shame, do you?” 

“I must have dropped mine somewhere nearby.” 

He checked around, searching for them. 

“If you aren’t gonna listen seriously, leave. End of lecture!” Rio abandoned her seat. 

“Sorry, I promise I’ll listen. And not look at your tits.” 

“Then stop talking about them!” 

Honestly, he was more than willing to promise not to look but wasn’t sure he could avoid it completely. His gaze was unconsciously drawn to them, and without adjustments at a genetic level, it would continue to be a struggle for him. 

He took a sip of coffee, then changed the subject. 

“So what you’re saying is…what we see is subjective?” 

“Correct. We avoid seeing things we don’t want to see. The human brain can easily accomplish such a feat.” 

People talked about pretending not to see things all the time: Out of sight, out of mind. Didn’t even notice. It escaped my attention. There were plenty of related idioms, so the concept was a familiar one. 

But what Rio was talking about seemed to be directly refuting his vague notions of what was happening to Mai. 

To put it bluntly, Sakuta’s working theory had been that the reason people couldn’t see her was because Mai was acting like the air. He thought the cause lay with her. 

But Rio spoke like the issues all stemmed from the observer. According to her premise, the thoughts or intentions of the one being observed didn’t matter. 

“There’s something called the Theory of Observation,” Rio said, throwing the next pitch before Sakuta could fully digest these new ideas. 

“The what?” he gaped, blinking at her. 

“To grossly oversimplify it, everything that exists only exists once someone has observed it. Sounds rather outlandish at first, right?” Rio asked. She didn’t seem to hold a strong opinion about it, herself. “You know about the cat in the box, right? Schrödinger’s cat.” 

“Heard the name, at least.” 

Rio pulled an empty cardboard box out from under the desk and plopped it down in front of Sakuta. 

“Say there’s a cat in this box.” 

She found a piggy bank shaped like a lucky cat and put that in the container. The physics teacher was using it to store five-hundred-yen coins. It seemed suspiciously light. 

“Along with some radioisotopes that release radiation once an hour.” 

She added the beaker full of boiling water. 

“Finally, some poison gas, the lid of which will open if it detects that radiation. If the lid opens, the cat will breath the poison gas. Assume this is always fatal.” 

She added the plastic bottle labeled MANGANESE DIOXIDE. 

“Then you close the lid and wait thirty minutes,” Rio said, putting a lid on the box. “Now, here we have a box prepared thirty minutes earlier.” 

“Like a cooking show?” 

Rio ignored the comment. 

“What do you think has happened to the cat?” 

“Uh…so these radioisotopes could release radiation at any time within that hour? And if they do, the lid on the poison gas opens.” 

Rio nodded. 

“So if only thirty minutes has passed, that’s half the hour, so…the odds are fifty percent?” 

“I’m astonished! You actually understood.” 

“If I couldn’t follow this much, I’m either really stupid or wasn’t listening in the first place.” 

“So is the cat alive or dead?” 

“Well, it’s fifty-fifty, right? We could give the box a shake and find out.” 

“The box is made of steel and fixed in place so it can’t move.” 

She pointed at the box, which was clearly cardboard. 

“Then I have faith it’s still alive!” 

“Which side you place your chips on doesn’t actually matter here.” 

“Then why ask?” 

“The only way to determine the cat’s state is to look at it.” 

“That’s surprisingly ordinary.” 

Rio opened the lid. Naturally, the contents were still a lucky cat bank, a beaker, and a bottle labeled MANGANESE DIOXIDE. 

“The moment the lid is opened, the cat’s state is determined. In other words, until we open the lid, the cat is both dead and alive. According to quantum mechanics anyway.” 

“That makes no sense. What if it died ten minutes after we closed the lid? There’s no need to wait another twenty minutes for the lid to open. The cat’s still dead.” 

To the cat, at least, its life was over. Supposedly, they have nine…but a dead cat is a dead cat. 

“I said it was outlandish, didn’t I? Well, even if you ignore the quantum interpretation, I think the thought experiment has a ring of truth to it.” 

“What truth?” Sakuta thought it all sounded rather fishy. 

“Humans only see the world the way they wish to see it. The rumors about you are a perfect example, Azusagawa. People believe the rumors but not the truth. Extend the analogy to the real world—you’re the cat in the box, and the rest of the student body the observers.” 

The subjective impressions of the people observing took priority over the actual contents of the box… That was what Rio seemed to be getting at. Sakuta’s perspective didn’t matter, only what the observers thought of him. 

“That’s not funny…” 

But this also didn’t quite match up with what was happening to Mai. Sakuta could see her, other people couldn’t, and he had no idea what conditions were causing her to go unseen. 

All of this was interesting, but the pieces still weren’t falling into place. 

It was questionable whether real-world physics could ever explain a phenomenon as dubious as Adolescence Syndrome. There were parts of what he had just learned that seemed like potential clues, but the more he talked to Rio, the more complicated everything seemed. 

Maybe what was happening to Mai couldn’t be solved just by her going back to work. Sakuta felt a sinking feeling in his chest. Everything Rio talked about was from the observers’ perspective, so…maybe a change on Mai’s end wouldn’t be enough. 

“Additionally, observation has been proven to change outcomes in some situations,” Rio said. 

“Really?” 

“It’s called the double-slit experiment. If I boil it down to just the conclusion…in cases where only the outcome was observed, the experiment results differed from when observations were also taken at the midpoint.” 

“So, like, when the Japan team has a soccer match and all I see is the final score on the news, they win, but if I actually watch the match, they always lose?” 

“I’m speaking strictly about particles on a micro level. The particle’s positions exist in terms of probability—not as matter, but in the form of waves. Observing them constricts them to the form of matter.” 

“But this micro stuff, banded together, forms people and things, right?” 

Molecules, atoms, electrons…even Sakuta knew that’s what people and things were made of. 

“If what I’ve described can happen on the macro level, your interpretation is fine. Also, for the sake of the Japan team, you’d better not watch any more soccer. Seriously, never again.” 

Sound advice. As he nodded appreciatively, a voice came on the loudspeaker. 

“Yuuma Kunimi, Class 2-2. Please meet with the basketball team adviser, Mr. Sano, in the teacher’s office.” 

“…What did he do?” 

“He’s not you, Azusagawa. It’s probably just reviewing the team practice schedule.” 

Rio didn’t sound interested, but she definitely had Yuuma’s back. 

He’d turned to look at the speaker, which meant he also saw the clock next to it. It was just after three. 

“Oh, I’ve gotta get to work.” 

“Then go.” 

“Thanks a lot. For the coffee, too.” 

“Thank the Science Club adviser. It isn’t my coffee.” 

Rio showed him the name written on the lid of the instant coffee jar. 

“Well, who’s gonna notice a few spoonfuls missing?” Sakuta said. 

He stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder, and headed for the door. 

But as he reached for it, an idea hit him, and he looked back. Rio was adjusting the flame on a Bunsen burner, presumably getting ready to do a real experiment at last. 

“Futaba.” 

“Mm?” 

Her eyes stayed glued to the blue flame. 

“You handling this Kunimi thing okay?” 

“……” 

She looked up at him, eyes wavering. 

“I’m…” 

She quickly tried to answer, but the words caught in her throat. She couldn’t even say she was fine. Her voice had squeaked, and he could tell she was straining to keep it from showing on her face. 

“I’m learning to get used to it,” she said while smiling weakly, abandoning the idea of insisting she was fine. 

There was no comfort Sakuta could offer. All he could do was bear witness to Rio’s doomed love from the sidelines. 

“You’ll be late for work,” she said, jerking her chin to make him scram. 

And with that, Sakuta left the science lab. 

As he closed the door behind him, he found himself muttering, “Getting used to it? That just means you can’t get over it.” 

2 

“Azusagawa!” his manager shouted. “Take your break before the dinner rush.” 

“Got it.” 

Sakuta headed for the break area that doubled as the men’s changing room at the back of the restaurant. There, he found Yuuma coming out from behind the lockers, having just finished getting into his uniform. He’d come straight from practice yet didn’t look at all worn-out. 

“Yo,” Yuuma said, noticing Sakuta. He was tying his apron on. 

“Mm,” Sakuta grunted, scowling at Yuuma’s pleasant smile. 

“Break?” 

“I’d be on the floor otherwise.” 

“Fair… Okay, I’m all set.” 

He tugged the apron strings tight and checked himself over in the mirror. 

“Oh, right, Sakuta,” Yuuma said, as if remembering something. 

“Mm?” 

Yuuma sat down at the table and poured himself a cup of tea from the pot. He took a long sip. 

“You’re hiding things from me.” 

“Phrasing. Are you supposed to be my girlfriend?” Sakuta jibed, trying to cover his surprise. Rio’s heartbreak was the first thing that came to mind, but Yuuma soon made it clear he was talking about something else entirely. 

“I’m not kidding around. I mean the thing with Kamisato.” 

“Ohhh…” 

Somewhat relieved, Sakuta still looked away. He didn’t really want to talk about that, either. But Yuuma had clearly found out about Saki Kamisato summoning him to the rooftop two weeks earlier. 

“You picked a real winner, Kunimi.” 

“Right? She’s great.” 

“She told me not to talk to you ever again.” 

“She wants to monopolize me! Her love is so strong.” 

“She said your stock drops if you talk to me. How much are you going for on the market?” 

“Yeah, well…sorry!” Yuuma clapped both palms together, bowing his head. 

“You’re something else.” 

“How so?” 

“All these leading statements, yet I can’t get you to gripe about her even once.” 

“Well, I’m in love with her. She can get carried away sometimes, but she’s honest with her emotions! She’s a great girl.” 

Sakuta thought she could stand to be a little less honest… 

“You sound like the misguided wife in an abusive relationship,” he said. 

“You mean like the type that goes, ‘I swear he’s nice sometimes’? Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Well, don’t worry about me. Whatever Kamisato says is no skin off my teeth.” 

“You could stand to care a little,” Yuuma laughed. 

“And I guess I should say sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“Nobody wants to hear someone bitch about their girlfriend.” 

“Don’t sweat it, man.” 

“Kamisato wouldn’t appreciate you saying that.” 

“That’s definitely true.” Yuuma grinned again. “But that’s whatever. Sakuta, don’t get any weird ideas. If you start avoiding me ‘for my sake’ or something, I’ll be seriously pissed.” 

“Don’t blame me if that leads to bad blood between you lovebirds.” 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I’m pretty sure all her anger will just get directed back to you.” 

That sounded way worse. 

“Nah, come on, man. That’s not right!” 

“You said it’s no skin off your teeth, right?” Yuuma smiled like he’d just seized a victory. “Just goes to show that a man capable of asking a lady if she’s on her period is made of sterner stuff. You sure your heart’s not solid steel?” 

Yuuma laughed heartily. Then he glanced at his watch. 

“Aw crap, it’s time,” he observed, punching his time card. 

He headed straight to the floor, making sure the manager saw him. 

But for some reason, he was back in the break room less than a minute later. Had he forgotten something? What was there even to forget? 

However, Yuuma had clearly come back for Sakuta, looking like he had something else to say. 

“What?” 

“That reporter’s here again.” 

Though Yuuma’s tone and expression were stable, Sakuta could nevertheless read the concern they masked. He knew full well Sakuta would not exactly be thrilled by this news. 

Ignoring mandated break times, Sakuta went back on the floor and made a beeline for her table. There he found a woman in her late twenties, sitting alone at a booth that seated four. She was wearing a short-sleeved blouse in a pleasant spring color, along with a skirt that stopped just below her knees. Her natural makeup didn’t call attention to itself. The overall effect made her look intelligent, like a TV news reporter. Which she was… 

“Can I take your order?” Sakuta asked, strictly professional. 

“Nice to see you again, too.” 

“Have we met?” 

“So that’s how you want to play it? Then let me introduce myself. Here’s my card.” 

With practiced ease, the woman offered up a business card. 

A TV station logo. Reporting division. The name Fumika Nanjou emblazoned in the center. 

He knew who she was, of course. He’d first met Fumika while his sister was being bullied. She’d been working on a piece about junior high bullying at the time. By now, she’d been dropping by for a couple of years already. 

“What is it today?” 

“I’m in town for a story on raw whitebait, but I had the evening off so figured I’d touch base.” 

There was a note of forced cheerfulness to her tone, but Sakuta didn’t let it get to him. Fumika was only after one thing. She’d found out about Adolescence Syndrome while working on the bullying story, which had sparked a personal curiosity. Naturally, she wasn’t about to believe an urban legend outright, but she’d learned enough to keep herself from being a pure skeptic. And if by chance it was real, the news alone would be a huge scoop, so she couldn’t just let it drop. She’d admitted as much to him once. 

“Maybe get yourself a hot date with a baseball player instead.” 

“Tempting, but during the season, the top players are always working.” 

It was six in the evening. That meant game time. 

“And I can get a date right here,” she said, shooting Sakuta a meaningful stare. 

“Not into old women, sorry.” 

“You’re such a child! Can’t appreciate my adult charms.” 

She cupped her chin on one palm, looking up at him. 

“I can tell you’ve gained weight in the last few months. You might want to work on those upper arms.” 

“……!” 

Her eyebrows shot up. He’d definitely gotten under her skin. She leaned back in the booth. 

“You’re so uncute,” she said. 

“I’d rather be cool. Your order?” 

“One Sakuta to go.” 

“You seem to have lost your mind,” he replied, without emotion. “Would you like to order an ambulance instead?” 

“Cheesecake and a hot coffee,” she demanded, not even glancing at the menu. Fumika ordered the same thing every time she came here. This was a habit Sakuta usually associated with men. 

“Anything else?” 

“You still won’t talk about it?” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, checking her e-mail. “I’d settle for a photo of the scar on your chest.” 

“Not happening.” 

“Never?” She flicked a finger, scrolling past something on her screen. 

“Are you gonna let me photograph you naked in return?” 

“Sure, why not?” 

“You’re surprisingly frisky.” 

“For personal use only, mind? If it winds up online, I’d lose my job.” 

Sakuta decided he shouldn’t engage her further and turned to go. 

But a few steps away, an idea struck him. 

“Um,” he began, turning back. 

“Mm?” She didn’t look up from her phone. 

“Nanjou…” He hesitated a moment, then asked, “Do you know Mai Sakurajima?” 

“Who doesn’t?” 

She still hadn’t looked up. 

“Do you know why she quit the business?” 

He knew Fumika covered celebrity gossip sometimes. 

“……” 

She was looking at him, surprised—clearly taken aback by the question. But this soon gave way to curiosity. Now she wanted to know why he’d asked. 

He could tell that much from her face, but she didn’t voice the question. 

“I know things that weren’t made public, at the least.” 

“Then…” 

“So? Is this a request from a child? Or an equal exchange between grown-ups?” 

“Don’t treat me like a kid.” 

“Fine. Then I’m not telling you for free.” 

“If one photo of me will do it…” 

“Heh-heh. Then we have ourselves a deal.” 

It was like he’d flipped a switch. Fumika put her phone back in her purse and glanced at the seat across from her. Sakuta took a seat. Two grown-ups, sharing a table. 

Sakuta worked until nine, then stopped at a convenience store on the way home. He passed through deserted residential streets before finally reaching his apartment after a ten-minute stroll. 

He took the elevator straight to the fifth floor, where he found someone waiting outside his apartment door. 

Mai was sitting against the wall in her school uniform. Arms around her knees. Knees and thighs pressed tightly together, only her lower legs apart. She must have stalked someone past the auto lock below. 

When he approached, she glared balefully up at him. 

“You’re finally home.” 

“I was at work.” 

“Where?” 

“The family restaurant by the station.” 

“Ohhh…” 

“Mai.” 

“What?” 

He clapped his hands together. Then he held up two fingers. Next, he made a big circle with his arms over his head. Finally, he made glasses with his thumbs and index fingers, then held them up to his eyes. He had mimed out “I can see your panties” with classic Japanese gestures. 

“Charades?” she asked, like he was the idiot. 

Apparently, she had failed to realize he could see white panties through her black tights. How defenseless! 

He gave up and said it out loud. “I can see your panties.” 

Mai gasped and looked down at herself. 

“I-it’s hardly a problem for me if some younger guy sees my underwear!” she sputtered but hastily put her hand between her legs, tugging her skirt down over it. Sakuta wondered why he found it sexier seeing her try to hide them than when they were on full display. 

“You’ve turned bright red.” 

“I-I’m very worked up right now!” 

“Wow, everyone’s feeling frisky tonight.” 

“I’m not being frisky!” 

Mai gave him a long, hard glare. 

“Standing up should solve the problem.” 

He held out a hand. 

Mai reached up, but just before she touched his hand, she yanked it back, like she’d just remembered she was still mad at him. She snorted once, then stood up without his help. 

“I’m not touching a boy’s hand—no telling what else it’s been wrapped around.” 

She flashed him a triumphant grin. She seemed to be enjoying herself. But this moment was immediately undermined by a loud growl from her stomach. 

“……” 

“……” 

“Gosh, I’m sooo hungry,” he said, in the phoniest voice he could muster. 

“Do you have to rub it in?” 

“Bad habit, I know.” 

Sakuta took a cream bun out of his shopping bag. 

She hesitated, then reached for it. He felt like he was feeding a stray cat. 

Mai ripped the package open and tore into the cream bun. 

“So when did you become the perpetually hungry type?” 

“……” 

She continued chewing in silence. 

Only when she’d swallowed properly did she snap, “I can’t shop,” like this was Sakuta’s fault. 

“Ohhh. That explains it…” 

If nobody could see her, then Mai obviously couldn’t go through the checkout line. He’d already seen the woman at the station stall totally ignore her efforts to buy a cream bun. It had been painful to watch. 

“The last two weeks, more and more places can’t see me. Everything around Fujisawa Station is a wash now. Even if I order online, they can’t see me, so I can’t accept deliveries.” 

“Wanna come in?” Sakuta suggested, pulling out his key and pointing at the door. “I can be charitable.” 

“That’s dubious phrasing,” Mai groused, glaring at him. 

Her apparent anger wasn’t at all frightening. It was actually kinda cute. 

“Then I’ll treat you.” 

“No. If I went into a boy’s place at this time of day, it’d be like telling him he can do whatever he wants.” 

“I see! So that’s how you signal consent. Good to know.” 

“Forget I said that.” 

She dropped a karate chop on his head. 

“Ow.” 

“Stop goofing around and help me shop.” 

“Sure, just hang on a second. Gotta let my sister know what’s up.” 

“Fine. I’ll be waiting downstairs.” 

As Sakuta put his key in the door, Mai turned her back on him, heading for the elevators. 

Kaede had been waiting for Sakuta to come home, and it took a good fifteen minutes of explaining to get her to settle down. It then took the same amount of time for Mai to get over waiting that long. The grocery store was by the station, a ten-minute walk, so by the time they arrived, it was already past ten. 

This store closed at eleven, so there was still a decent crowd. Lots of young men in suits. Likely bachelors stopping by on their way home from work. 

Sakuta shopped here regularly but hadn’t often come this late. It felt like a whole new experience. 

And that feeling was only enhanced by the fact that he wasn’t alone. And the person with him was the Mai Sakurajima. 

Mai was walking ahead of him, choosing her groceries. He was rather enjoying pushing the cart along behind her. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. 

“We definitely look like a couple.” 

“What did you say?” Mai asked, looking up from the carrots in her hands. 

“Nothing.” 

“It’s fine. Nobody here can see me.” 

So she had heard him. 

“It’s my first time staying over, and you’ve agreed to cook me dinner.” 

“The more time you waste on dumb fantasies, the stupider you get.” 

She put the carrot in her right hand back on the shelf. 

“Okay, serious question.” 

“Really, now?” She seemed to think that was highly questionable. 

“So that carrot you’re waving around. What does it look like to everyone else? Is it floating?” 

“They can’t see it, either,” she said. Apparently, she’d already tested this. 

She demonstrated, dangling the carrot in front of a businessman’s face. He didn’t react. 

“See?” 

“Guess you’re right.” 

“I tried putting everything in a basket and taking that to the checkout line, but it was no use. I mean, we already know they can’t see my clothes, either.” 

That was true. This clearly wasn’t just her body turning invisible. 

“Maybe everything I touch turns invisible.” 

“By that logic, the entire earth would be invisible.” 

“You’re sure thinking on a grand scale.” 

“I’m a man meant for greater things.” 

“Yeah, sure,” she said, brushing it off. 

“But, uh, if you touch me, what happens then?” 

“Is that a roundabout way to trick me into holding your hand?” 

“No, just an experiment.” 

If all he wanted was a touch, that had already happened. When she’d visited his room, she’d touched Sakuta’s chest scars. She’d also shoved his shoulder on the train, while joking about getting pregnant. 

But neither of these had resulted in Sakuta becoming invisible. It seemed likely the ingredients she’d put in the cart he was pushing would be visible once he reached the checkout line. 

What he wanted to know was what happened while she was touching him. 

“If that’s the reason, I’m not doing it.” 

She turned and walked off toward the meat section. 

He called after her, keeping a close eye on her reaction. “The truth is that was just me trying to hide my embarrassment. I do actually just want to hold your hand.” 

“And?” she asked, smiling over her shoulder. 

“Will you do me the honor of being the first girl to hold my hand?” 

“A little creepy…but I’ll take it.” 

Mai let him catch up, then they walked side by side. Sakuta felt her warmth pressed against him. She’d put her arm around his. 

Surprised, he felt his heart racing. 

Mai was tall enough that her face was just a glance away. So close he felt like he could count her eyelashes. 

“……” 

The longer she held on to him, the more conscious he was of the side boob pressed into his arm. He’d learned a lot about them while she’d been wearing that bunny-girl outfit, but they were definitely on the generous side for someone with a build as slim as hers. 

And she smelled good. His head was swimming. 

“Your mind went straight to the gutter, right?” 

“I think it went a hundred times deeper than you’re assuming,” he admitted. 

Mai let go of him. 

“But you’re so grown-up, that would never bother you,” he said. 

“Yes. A younger boy having erotic fantasies about me is n-nothing.” 

Feeling stubborn, Mai grabbed his arm again. 

“Ahhh!” 

Even he knew that noise was weird. 

A nearby businessman shot him a suspicious glance. Their eyes met. He could definitely see Sakuta. But it didn’t seem like he could see Mai Sakurajima. She remained invisible. 

“Uh, Mai?” 

“Not enough for you?” 

“Sorry. You’ve defeated me. Please let go before it becomes difficult for me to walk.” 

“That’s what you get for winding me up.” 

Mai seemed to be having fun teasing him and wasn’t letting go. She was building up immunities to this sort of interaction. 

But having her on his arm was hardly a punishment. It was great. Nothing but rewarding. 

“You know, I just remembered—aren’t we supposed to be fighting?” 

“Oh, right.” 

Her smile faded, and she pulled away from him, looking disappointed. He was surprised by how quickly her demeanor changed. He genuinely couldn’t tell if it was real or if she was just acting. 

Part of him regretted this choice, but he still managed to enjoy the rest of their shopping trip. 

The approach to the checkout was somewhat nerve-racking, but everything in the cart got rung up without any problems. He paid like always and was handed bags stuffed with veggies, meat, and snacks. 

Then they left the store. Sakuta carried both bags. 

He and Mai walked side by side. Sakuta had no idea where they were headed. 

“Where do you live, Mai?” 

If she was shopping near Fujisawa Station, she must live within walking distance of it. 

“Earth,” she said. 

So he just matched pace with her, letting her lead. For the moment, they were headed in the same direction as his apartment. 

“Can’t wait to see your place, Mai.” 

“You’re not coming in,” she snapped. She clearly meant it. 

“Aww.” 

“Don’t act like a spoiled child. We’re fighting, remember?” 

“Only because you can’t admit the truth.” 

“Oh? This is my fault?” 

“If you want to act, you should.” 

“Don’t bring that up again,” she said. Her tone was quiet but definitely threatening. This was stronger than a simple rejection. She was coldly pushing him away. 

“Because I know nothing about you?” 

“Yes. So mind your own business.” 

“Too bad! I actually do know why you quit.” 

“Sure you do,” she sneered. 

“In your third year of junior high, you put out a certain photo album.” 

“?!” 

Mai looked distinctly rattled by this. 

“You’d said you’d never do a swimsuit shoot, but your mother signed the contract anyway because she knew it would boost sales.” 

She’d posed for a lot of magazine pinups but never in a swimsuit. And she’d been in high demand anyway. In fact, the lack of skin had set her apart. Her natural beauty had been more than enough. 

“But you had a huge fight with your mom over that and figured the best way to get back at her was to leave the business.” 

“……” 

“But I think you’re being ridiculous.” 

“Shut up.” 

“That’s no reason to throw away what you want.” 

“Shut up!” 

“You’re the one shouting! Settle down; you’re annoying the neigh—” Before he could finish, her hand struck his cheek. The crack echoed through the quiet street. 

“I struggled with it a lot!” 

“……” 

“I was still in junior high! But I got to the studio, and they sprang a swimsuit on me, adults all around. And my mom said we’d signed the contract, that no matter how much I didn’t want to, it was my job, so I had to do it! I had to force myself to smile!” 

If her life had been more ordinary, maybe she could have fought it. Thrown a fit, refused to do the job. But she was Mai Sakurajima. She’d been a working professional since she was six years old. And surrounded by grown-ups… 

Making a scene wasn’t an option. She had to read the room and make the professional choice. She was a kid, but she had to act like an adult. 

“She was just using me. I was nothing but a way for her to make money.” 

Mai spat out the words, a dark edge to her voice. 

Still, Sakuta was sure this was her true reason. She was getting back at her mother for treating her like a product. 

He could only guess how that might feel. He’d never experienced anything like it. He couldn’t claim to understand, but there was one thing he was certain of. 

“I’d say that’s all the more reason to go back to work.” 

“How so?” 

“Because as awful as that all must have been, the way things are now, you’re still suffering from it.” 

“Huh…?” 

“If you want to do something, there’s no reason to force yourself not to. You should just do it. Even I know that! And I know you get it, too, Mai.” 

“……” 

Mai stared at the ground, the flush of anger fading away. 

“……” 

She was silent for a good ten seconds. 

“I’m sorry I slapped you,” she apologized softly. 

Only then did Sakuta register the throbbing pain on his cheek. 

“I’ve got both hands full and can’t even defend myself, you know?” 

“That’s why it wasn’t a punch.” 

“…Thank you so, so much,” he said, making his feelings clear. 

“You don’t sound at all grateful.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m the one who got slapped. Ow. Owww.” 

“You’re so dramatic.” 

“It hurts so bad! I don’t think it’ll feel better until my kind, beautiful senpai rubs it…” 

“Serves you right.” 

“Uh…how so?” 

Sakuta believed himself entirely blameless. 

“You deliberately worded things so I’d get mad,” she accused crossly. 

“I did?” It was a bit late to play dumb, but he couldn’t exactly come right out and admit it, either. 

“You were hoping I’d get emotional and blurt something out, right?” 

“Heavens no.” 

“You’re a real crafty one.” 

Mai reached out and touched Sakuta’s cheek. He thought she was going to rub it, but instead, she pinched him. She pinched the side she hadn’t slapped, too, yanking both cheeks. 

“Owww.” 

“That aside, Sakuta,” Mai said, totally herself again. “Who told you why I quit?” 

“……” 

His gaze drifted upward. 

“Don’t you look away.” 

Her grip on his cheeks got tighter. 

“Ow!” 

“Who told you?” 

Didn’t seem like silence would get him out of this. Neither would playing dumb. Mai knew better than anyone how few people had access to that information. They’d managed to keep it well under wraps. 

“I know a reporter. She interviewed me back when Kaede was being bullied.” 

“Who?” 

“Fumika Nanjou.” 

“Oh. Her.” 

“You know her?” 

“She’s been a daytime tabloid talk show assistant for a while. Our paths have crossed before.” 

Those didn’t sound like fun times. 

“But why do you still know her? Your sister’s thing was two years ago.” 

“Oh, uh…” 

“Spit it out.” 

“Well, she got interested in Adolescence Syndrome. She saw my chest scars. She drops in every now and then trying to get me to work with her on that.” 

When he’d asked about Mai, Fumika had nodded and said, “Some of this is guesswork, mind” and mentioned that there’d been a lot of pressure to keep it from going public. 

“So you offered her something to get info on me,” Mai said pointedly. 

“Nope,” denied Sakuta, trying to get his heart to stop beating so fast. 

“That’s a lie. That woman seems to think she’s a real journalist, and no professional would ever give out information for free. What did you give her?” 

Mai definitely seemed to know more about the TV biz than he did. He wasn’t lying his way out of this. And she wasn’t going to let him say nothing. He was forced to confess. 

“A photo. Of the scar on my chest.” 

He neglected to mention they’d shared a bathroom stall to take the picture. And the fact that her perfume had been a bit of a turn on? He would carry that bit with him to his grave. 

“You idiot!” 

“Harsh.” 

“You really are an idiot. What the hell were you thinking?” 

Her voice was ragged. He could tell she was genuinely furious. 

“Well, I want to help you.” 

“……” 

“I really do.” 

He was too scared to look her in the eye. His gaze slid sideways. 

Mai sighed, letting her hands fall away. Sakuta’s cheeks were finally free, but they still stung. 

“Those scars bring up painful memories for you. And it might affect your sister.” 

Mai looked very serious. 

“She said she’d leave Kaede out of it.” 

“But if she covered that story two years ago, there’s a chance someone’ll connect it to you.” 

“I suppose.” 

“Right.” 

Mai held out her hand. Unsure what she meant, he put the two shopping bags together and tried to hand them to her. 

But she slapped them away. 

“I’m asking for that woman’s number.” 

“You could have just said.” He ran back through the conversation, confirming she definitely hadn’t. 

“Work out that much from context.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” 

“You don’t know how scary TV can be. If the media catch wind of something, you’ll be swarmed in an instant! I can already see the cameras staking out your house.” 

Sakuta could see them, too. He’d seen people caught up in a scandal, bathed in judgmental stares, flinching against the strobe of flashes, pelted with questions…and then he imagined himself in the center of that maelstrom. 

“……” 

He gulped. 

“…I feel sick already,” he said, conscious of the blood draining from his face. 

“And if it actually happens, you’ll feel a hundred times worse.” 

Mai’s finishing blow hit hard. Sakuta was starting to suspect he’d made a fatal error. A chill ran down his spine. 

“Next time, be more careful. Hear?” 

Mai was annoyed, but not in an unpleasant way. She was scolding him, but with a warmth behind it. Sakuta realized this was because her anger came from genuine concern. 

“Well?” 

“Message received. I’ll be careful. But she already has—” 

“Yes, so?” Mai held up her hand again. “You know her number, right?” 

Fumika had given Sakuta her card. He took it out of his wallet and handed it to Mai. 

Mai read the front, then flipped it over. 

“A handwritten cell number? Sketchy.” 

Sakuta felt accused. 

“I do go for older women but not that much older.” 

“Hmph.” 

Still disgruntled, Mai punched the number into her smartphone. 

“Mai, what’s your plan here?” 

“You be quiet.” 

She put the phone to her ear and turned her back to him. Fumika picked up immediately. 

“Sorry for the sudden call,” Mai began. “This is Mai Sakurajima. We worked together before. I promise this isn’t a prank call. Please don’t hang up. Yes, that’s right. The Mai Sakurajima. I’m fine, thanks. Is this a good time?” 

Mai moved things along with practiced ease. 

“I’m calling to discuss Sakuta Azusagawa. We attend the same school. Yes, that’s correct.” 

The calm way she handled the phone call made Mai seem like a reliable adult. 

“I’d like to request you not make the photo of his chest scars public. I’d also appreciate it if you minimize the number of experts you show the photo to. Yes, obviously not for free. I’ll provide a scoop of equal value.” 

“W-wait, Mai!” 

What was she about to offer? Sakuta didn’t want her offering herself up for him. 

Mai glared over her shoulder, placing a finger to her lips like she was shushing a child. 

“Yes, I’m aware of that. I’m confident the information I’m offering will be satisfactory.” 

She turned her back on him again. 

“I’m about to end my hiatus. When I do, I’ll give you an exclusive interview. Yes, naturally, that alone won’t be buzzy enough. But this next part should be convincing.” 

She paused a moment. What came out next sounded like she’d prepared it a long time ago. 

“I won’t be returning to my mother’s office. My return will be handled by new management.” 

Sakuta was probably far more shocked by this turn than Fumika Nanjou. A few weeks back and then again today…they’d just been arguing about this very thing. The more he advocated Mai should go back to work, the more adamantly she’d refused. So what exactly was she saying? She was ending her hiatus? How could he not be surprised? 

“I’m sure you can see that this topic will have a far more immediate impact than Azusagawa’s. After all, most people won’t even believe that story. By all means, think it over.” 

The next few minutes were just “Yes,” “That’s right,” and “Agreed,” as Fumika verified a few things. 

“Then we have a deal? I look forward to working with you again.” 

Polite to the very end. Mai hung up. 

She turned back to Sakuta. 

“There you have it!” 

“Sorry.” 

“Why would you apologize?” 

“Thank you.” 

“But seeing you all downcast like this is kinda cute.” 

This time Sakuta didn’t have a glib response. He really owed her one. The chill he’d felt when he pictured the cameras chasing him around was totally gone. He felt safe again. And that was all Mai’s doing. 

“But you’re really going back?” 

And with new management. 

“You were right about that, Sakuta.” Mai seemed reluctant to admit it. “I liked making movies and TV shows. It was hard work but rewarding. I never wanted to stop. And I shouldn’t be lying to myself about that. Satisfied?” 

“Not at all. That’s barely a start!” 

“Th-this is the part where you’re supposed to forgive me!” 

“You’re the one who spent two whole weeks avoiding me.” 

“And now I just helped you!” 

“That’s that; this is this.” 

“Urp…fine. I shouldn’t have been so hardheaded. I’m sorry. Are we good?” 

She clearly hated having to admit fault but also knew it was the right thing to do. 

“One more time.” 

“Forgive me! I regret everything.” 

“If you were only looking up at me through your eyelashes, it would be perfect.” 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

Mai grabbed his nose. 

“Augh! Don’t do that!” he yelped, his voice sounding muffled. 

Mai laughed out loud. “You sound ridiculous!” 

Only then did Sakuta realize why she’d been waiting for him outside his apartment. 

Mai had come to tell him she was going back to work. 

She’d made up her own mind long before he shared what Fumika told him. 

A small part of him found that frustrating, but for the most part, he felt pretty good about it. 

“Man, the world keeps turning on its own.” 

“What did you say?” 

“Just talking to myself.” 

They began walking again. He felt like the mood had improved a lot. If Mai’s decision cured her Adolescence Syndrome, everything was perfect. 

Three minutes later… 

“Here we are,” Mai said, stopping outside Sakuta’s apartment building. 

“Huh?” 

“I live here,” Mai elaborated, pointing at the building across the street. She’d told him before she lived close by, but he hadn’t thought she meant this close. This was definitely the biggest shock of the day. Even more than her going back to work. 

“Thanks for carrying these,” she said, swiping the bags from his hands. 

Sadly, it looked like she really wasn’t going to invite him in. 

“Oh, right, Sakuta…” 

“Yes, Your Majesty?” 

“Come out with me this weekend.” 

He’d called her Your Majesty by accident, but there was an imperious ring to her voice that really fit. 

“Once I’m back at work, I won’t have much free time. I’ve been living here for two years, but I’ve never gone to Kamakura. Ridiculous, right? I should definitely go there once.” 

“Will it be that easy to get work?” He shot her a dubious look. 

“I’m Mai Sakurajima,” she said. 

The amazing part was that this didn’t sound like pride talking. It was just convincing. Like a simple statement of fact. He felt like Mai’s schedule would fill up immediately. 

“Oh, uh, but Sunday…” 

“You have something more important than me?” 

“I’m on the early shift on weekends. Mornings and the lunch rush.” 

“Just get someone to switch with you…is what I would like to say, but…” She’d clearly meant it at first. “It feels like you care about work more than me, which is infuriating.” 

“I’m off at two, so after that…” 

“Argh, fine.” 

She stomped on his foot, suggesting it really wasn’t fine. But she claimed to accept it. He wasn’t sure if she was acting childish or mature. Maybe somewhere in between—a little of both at once. That was Mai Sakurajima in a nutshell, Sakuta thought. 

“Don’t you smirk at me.” 

“How can I not? You asked me on a date!” 

“Oh—this isn’t a date.” 

Denied. 

“Aww.” 

“You want a date that bad?” 

“Of course!” He nodded firmly. 

“Then we can call it one.” 

“Cool.” He pumped a fist. 

“You’re that pleased?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“Okay. Five past two at the gates of the Enoden Fujisawa Station.” 

“I’m working until two, remember?” 

“I’ve given you five whole minutes.” 

“If the restaurant’s crowded, I might not be able to leave on the dot. Give me a little more slack, please.” 

“Fine. Two thirty. If you’re even a second late, I’m leaving.” 

“Got it!” 

And thus, in the most surprising fashion, Sakuta got his first ever date. 

That evening, the jubilant cries of an adolescent male echoed through the Azusagawa bathroom.