He thought he heard a definite edge to her tone.
“Are you, like, actually mad?”
“Huh? Why would I be?”
She was definitely fuming. Her irritation was obvious. There was a sharpness to her glare, and Sakuta could feel it stabbing into him.
“That’s why I’m asking…”
“Who would be happy having her date interrupted by an admission of love for some other girl?”
“I used the past tense! Important detail!”
“Hmph.”
Mai really did not seem convinced. This might take a while to get past. But while Sakuta was considering his approach…
“The sea!” a cheery voice called.
They looked up and saw a couple standing on the stairs to the beach.
The man had curly hair and a big pair of headphones around his neck.
The woman was smaller, with glasses. When her boyfriend ran off excitedly toward the water, she looked after him, sulking. Her heels were sinking into the sand, and she wasn’t making much progress.
They looked a few years older than Mai and Sakuta. Probably college students.
Seeing her struggle, her boyfriend ran back toward her.
“N-no, don’t!” she yelped.
But he swept her off her feet, carrying her in his arms to the water’s edge.
“I can’t believe you!” she complained. He put her down. Her face was red. She was clearly conscious of Sakuta’s gaze. “The nerve!”
While she grumbled, he was standing in the surf, yelling, “Whoa! The waves!” Not listening to her at all. Kind of an odd couple.
“It’s cold! I’m leaving,” the woman said, turning around. But he just threw his arms around her from behind.
Sakuta let out an impressed “Wow.”
Fortunately, they were too busy flirting to hear him.
“You’re so warm!”
“……”
She seemed to be cursing under her breath. Still, she didn’t try to shake him off. The way she buried her face in his arms was kinda cute.
Sakuta glanced at Mai.
“I’m not cold,” she said, sticking a nail in that plan.
“Wow, I’m sooo cold,” he tried, staring at the water. She just glared at him.
The college couple was walking away along the surf, hand in hand.
Like something out of a movie.
“Looks nice,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Mm?”
“N-never mind.”
Had the truth slipped out? Mai seemed to be hastily covering her tracks.
“I could hold your hand.”
“Why does it sound like you’re doing me the favor?” she asked.
But when he held his hand out, she took it. Not so they could hold hands, though.
When Mai pulled her hand away, her phone was left on his palm. A smartphone with a red bunny-ear cover.
“Is this for me?”
“No.”
“Then…”
But then his eyes caught what was on-screen.
She’d left it open to an e-mail.
He glanced up to see if he could read it, and she nodded, looking tense.
Come to Shichirigahama Beach at 5 PM on May 25 (Sunday).
Today’s date. Five minutes from now.
He wasn’t sure why Mai had shown him this.
Until he saw to whom it was addressed.
Her manager.
Mai had written this e-mail to her mother. And the screen showed she’d already sent it. Sent it the day they’d agreed to this date. The day Mai had announced she was going back to work. Right after they’d parted ways.
It was almost five.
“You’re really meeting her?” he asked, handing the phone back.
“I don’t want to.”
“Then you don’t have to.”
He knew she’d had no contact with her mother since they’d argued about the photo book she had put out in her third year of junior high. She’d already made up her mind to find new management, so there didn’t seem to be any need to meet her mother in person now.
“Oh, is there some agency contract in the way?”
“I ended the contract with her office when I went on hiatus. Don’t worry.”
That meant this had to be for personal reasons. It was a way to settle things.
Mai stared into the surf, looking unhappy. She’d made up her mind but was obviously still reluctant to do this.
“I’m a big believer in not doing anything you don’t want to,” Sakuta said, like he was thinking out loud.
“Is there a part two?”
“It kinda goes hand in hand with ‘If you have to do something, then go out and get it done.’”
Sakuta stretched his arms out toward the water.
Some things were best avoided.
Some things couldn’t be.
Everything was one of the two.
If something could be avoided, there was no need to do it. But when something couldn’t be avoided, no progress could be made by ignoring it.
And in this case, Mai seemed to think talking to her mother was the latter.
“Are you okay?” Sakuta asked, deciding it was best to be direct.
“I chose this myself, and…she’s already here.”
A distant figure was approaching from the Enoshima end of the beach.
“She’s always been punctual.”
She was still so far off, Sakuta could never have identified her. But Mai was sure—they were family, after all.
“Go away,” Mai insisted, waving a hand like she was shooing a stray dog.
“I was gonna introduce myself!”
“……”
Sakuta threw his hands up, surrendering before her glare.
“We’ll continue the date once this is over. Keep your distance until then.”
“Got it.”
He moved away from the surf and sat down on a piece of driftwood.
The figure in the distance drew closer. Sakuta could see her clearly now.
Like Mai, she was a spirited beauty. Technically, it was Mai who took after her…
Slim, tall, still seemed pretty young—at the least, not old enough to have a daughter Mai’s age. Seeing her reminded Sakuta that he’d overheard a classmate gossiping, saying she’d only been twenty when she had Mai.
If that was true, she was still in her thirties. That still seemed old to Sakuta, but nothing about her seemed like a mom. The light-colored suit only reinforced that impression.
Mai stood still, watching her mother approach. They were maybe ten paces apart now.
Sakuta saw Mai say something. A greeting of some kind. It was drowned out by the wind and the surf. From this distance, he couldn’t make out a word.
Mai’s mother slowed a little but didn’t stop. She didn’t respond to Mai’s words.
Mai spoke again, leaning forward, looking desperate.
“……”
That’s when Sakuta realized something was wrong.
The mother’s gaze was all over the place. Looking left and right, like she was searching for the person she was here to meet.
Mai was standing right there, but she never looked directly at her.
“……Oh shit,” he said, a sinking feeling in his chest. Please, not this, he screamed inside.
And then Mai’s mother walked straight past her.
Like she couldn’t see Mai at all.
Like she couldn’t hear her daughter’s voice.
She just walked on by.
Sakuta knew what was happening already. A chill ran down his spine.
He watched in horror, fear washing over him.
Mai moved back in front of her mother, waving her arms, begging, “Can’t you see me?”
Loud enough for Sakuta to hear.
But Mai’s mother walked right past her again. Behind her, Mai’s arms fell limply to her sides.
Sakuta found himself on his feet, headed right towa
rd Mai—and her mother.
When he was about ten yards out, she saw him.
When he was five yards out, she seemed sure.
“Was it you?” she asked. She seemed cross. This reminded him of Mai and caught him off guard. “Why’d you call me to a place like this? Who are you? You look like you’re in high school, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”
The questions just kept coming.
“I’m Sakuta Azusagawa. Yeah, I’m in high school. That one.” He waved in the direction of Minegahara High, up Route 134.
“Well, what do you want with me, Sakuta Azusagawa? I’m a very busy woman.”
“I’m not the one who wants something.”
He caught Mai’s eye over her mother’s shoulder.
She hesitated for a moment but then nodded slowly. He felt like she’d known this might happen and brought Sakuta with her to prepare for the worst. Using the “date” as bait.
“Then who does?”
Weird question, he thought.
“Mai. You know that already, right?”
She was only here because she’d read the e-mail. That fact shouldn’t have changed even if she couldn’t see Mai.
“……”
Mai’s mother looked him over, as if evaluating him.
“Who called me here? Say that again.”
“Mai.”
“Right.”
“Yes.”
The wind caught her hair, and she brushed it back.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“?!” Mai’s eyes went wide. Shock and horror fought for dominance behind them. What kind of mother talked like that?
“She’s your daughter!” Sakuta yelled, letting his emotions get the better of him.
They might not be talking, but this was no way for a mother to behave.
“I don’t have a daughter. You think this is funny?”
“Do you?!”
The more worked up Sakuta got, the colder she became.
“What’s this really about? You want me to manage you or something?”
“Of course not! What are you…?”
His eyes met hers, and the words died on his lips. There was a look of pity in them. And at last, he realized that she’d said “Who’s that?” because she genuinely had no idea who Mai Sakurajima was.
This woman’s eyes proved she wasn’t lying.
“Right, the e-mail! You got an e-mail from Mai saying she’d meet you here?”
“If I show it to you, will that bring an end to this farce?”
She pulled a phone from her purse, holding it out for him to see.
“…Why?” Mai wondered. Leaning in to look.
Naturally, her mother couldn’t hear or see her.
The body of the e-mail was the same as what Mai had shown him a few minutes before.
Come to Shichirigahama Beach at 5 PM on May 25 (Sunday).
And the sender field said Mai. Nothing strange about it.
But her mother was saying, “Sender unknown. But I added it to my calendar, and I remember clearing my schedule to be here. Can’t imagine why.”
He was every bit as confused. It clearly said Mai, but it sounded like her mother couldn’t even see the name.
From what she’d just said, it seemed clear that when she’d received the e-mail three days earlier, she had been well aware it was from her daughter. That’s why she’d cleared her schedule and taken the time to come here.
But before the day in question, she had completely forgotten Mai. It wasn’t a matter of just not seeing or hearing her—she didn’t even remember her daughter at all.
This was hard to believe, but it was the only explanation for her behavior.
“Is that even possible?!” His mouth was running of its own accord. There was a hollow rasp in his voice that sounded horrifying even to his ears. “I can’t just accept that!” He hurled his shock at Mai’s mother.
“Certainly an interesting way to sell yourself, but a bit too crazy for me. Learn a thing or two about the world before you try again.”
And with that, she turned on her heel and walked back the way she came.
“You’re her mother!”
“……”
She didn’t look back. Her stride didn’t break even once.
“How can you forget your own daughter?”
“…That’s enough,” Mai said softly.
“But she…!”
“Enough.”
“We’re not done here!” Sakuta roared, unable to stop himself.
“……Please. No more,” Mai pleaded, sounding like she was about to cry.
A shudder ran through him. It dawned on Sakuta that he was just making this even worse for her.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“……”
“Really sorry.”
“……No, it’s fine.”
“……”
What on earth was happening to Mai?
All along, Sakuta had thought it was a matter of being unseen and unheard. He’d assumed as much. Mai probably had, too.
But now it seemed like they’d been very wrong.
Neither of them had grasped the full scope.
Not only had her mother not seen her or heard her voice…she’d completely forgotten that Mai ever existed.
“……”
The more he thought about that, the worse it seemed.
“Sakuta,” Mai said, eyes wavering anxiously.
He knew she was worried about the same thing.
Her mother might not be the only one. Everyone else may have forgotten her, too.
When had this started? Maybe the moment they stopped seeing her. Maybe not.
If she was really disappearing from people’s memories…
Alas, it would not take them long to confirm that was exactly what was happening.
4
Sakuta and Mai walked the rest of the beach to the station they used for school. Neither had suggested it aloud; their feet just naturally carried them toward their usual route home.
Along the way, Sakuta spoke to middle-aged tourists and local children and grandparents, asking them about Mai Sakurajima. It was the same question a dozen times, which was met by the same answer every time.
“Never heard of her.”
Not one person knew who she was. Not one of them could see her.
Part of Sakuta was still hoping against hope. He wanted to believe they’d just coincidentally spoken to a string of people who didn’t know her. But that faint hope soon faded.
When they got to Fujisawa Station, Sakuta used a pay phone to call the reporter Fumika Nanjou. He was glad he’d kept her business card in his pocket.
“Yes?” she answered, her tone professional.
“This is Sakuta Azusagawa.”
“Oh!” Her tone brightened immediately. “A love call from you? Today is special.”
“No love here.”
“No interest in a risky relationship with an older woman? I do so love playing with fire.”
“You’re a bit too old for me.”
“So what do you want?”
She was good at ignoring anything not in her favor.
“It’s about Mai Sakurajima.”
“Where’d that come from?”
Oh, Sakuta thought.
That sounded promising.
But her next words instantly shattered that hope.
“And who might that be?”
“……”
“Hello?”
“You’ve never heard of Mai Sakurajima?” One more try.
“Never! Who is she?”
“Then…uh, the photo…?”
A photo of the scars on his chest had been part of their deal. Fumika still had it. And she’d promised Mai she wouldn’t make it public in return for exclusive rights to the story about Mai’s return to work.
“I promised not to use it, right? I remember. I’ll keep my word.”
“Who did you promise?”
“You,
obviously. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
She sounded half-worried, half-curious. Sakuta decided it was better not to talk further. Didn’t want her getting wind of anything.
“I’m fine. Sorry. I just started fretting about the photo… Guess I wasn’t making sense.”
“Trust meee!”
“Sorry if I interrupted anything. Thanks.”
Sakuta hung up while he still sounded calm.
After replacing the receiver in its cradle, he continued holding on to the phone for a long time.
Then, he slowly turned around, met Mai’s eye, and shook his head.
She seemed like she hadn’t entertained any hope to the contrary. She just nodded. No emotion on her face.
“Thanks for today,” she said, turning to leave.
No hesitation. No indecision. She just walked off in the direction of home.
The same confident gait as usual.
Sakuta looked after her, his heart aching.
A wave of panic hit him. He was afraid he’d never see her again.
His body moved on its own.
“Mai, wait.”
He ran after her and grabbed her wrist.
She stopped but didn’t turn around. She just stared at the ground in front of her.
“Let’s go.”
“……” Her head lifted slightly. “Go where?”
“Maybe there’s still someone out there who remembers you.”
“You sound like everyone but you has forgotten me,” Mai said with a forced laugh.
“……”
He didn’t deny it. He couldn’t. That was the only explanation. And Mai was thinking the same thing. Otherwise, she never would’ve said that.
But he wanted to believe. Believe that if they went far enough, everyone would know her, see her, point and say, “Isn’t that Mai Sakurajima?” He wanted to believe there was still a chance.
“Let’s make sure.”
“What’s the point? What if we find out you are the only one who remembers me? What good would that do?”
“Then at the very least, I’ll be with you till we do.”
“?!”
There was no way she wasn’t scared. That was impossible. The fear had to be crushing her. She barely understood what was happening to her, and she definitely had no idea why it was happening. There was no telling what tomorrow would bring, so going home alone, with no one waiting for her there—that would’ve been nothing short of terrifying.
He saw her shoulders shaking. That was proof enough.
“…How conceited of you,” she said.
“And it is a date.”
Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai, Volume 1 Page 11