As advertised, he hit up the toilet, but instead of heading back to Takumi afterward, he went downstairs. One flight down was the hot springs, and two flights down was the restaurant.
The latter was closed for the night; there was a light on by the free-drinks counter, but the rest was dark.
He poured himself some hot houjicha.
A voice called from behind.
“Azusagawa?”
He turned to find a woman in a yukata sitting on the edge of the raised tatami floor.
Ikumi.
She must have swung by for a drink, too. She had a mug in one hand.
Sakuta took a seat a respectable distance from her.
“Thanks for reserving the flight back.”
“You said that already.”
“Akagi, you’ve been a huge help.”
“That one’s new.”
Ikumi took a sip of tea, not showing much emotion.
“You even did the research and found this place.”
She’d been the one who’d suggested they kill time here. Before their flight at Haneda, she’d also said, “We’ll be arriving late. Better buy a change of clothes here.”
✦ ✦ ✦
✦ ✦ ✦
“Well, that benefits me,” she said now.
“Still helped.”
“Mm.”
Ikumi sipped her tea again, looking uncomfortable. For all her work helping people, she wasn’t getting any better at taking a compliment.
“……”
“……”
There was no one else here this late, so if they weren’t talking, nothing broke the silence. Except maybe the hum of the AC.
“Akagi…”
“What?”
“What’s your take on Fukuyama’s girlfriend?”
It was an easy question to ask. Simple to put it in words.
But extremely hard to answer. A really thorny problem.
To his surprise, Ikumi didn’t have to think about it. Never even looked lost. She answered like she’d had her remarks prepared.
“I think it’s pretty typical.”
She didn’t look at all rattled. Wasn’t hesitating. Just being rational.
A bit too unflustered.
“You think?” Sakuta asked, voicing that doubt.
Her words had not been enough to convey her intent.
“Has that never happened to you, Azusagawa? You never lost yourself, had to find yourself again?”
That question made him wince. This time she’d gotten through loud and clear.
“I sure have,” she said. “Nothing went right, or I was just going with the flow…and in my case, I wound up in another world entirely.”
“I’ve done that, too. Totally lost myself.”
It felt right. Ikumi’s words allowed him to grasp the enigma that was Nene Iwamizawa at last. They made her situation feel familiar.
“With Fukuyama’s girlfriend, she let that flow turn her into Touko Kirishima.”
Things hadn’t worked out in Tokyo, and it had felt like a rejection of everything she was. Then the Mai Sakurajima had shown up. She’d struggled, fought…and gotten nowhere. And she’d lost her way. Didn’t know who she was anymore.
And floundering, she’d seized on those words.
“People said she might be the real Touko Kirishima, and that struck a nerve when she was most vulnerable.”
“I’ve got something like that,” Ikumi said. “In kindergarten, a friend’s mom said, ‘You’re such a good girl, Ikumi.’”
“……”
“That made me so happy, I tried to be an even better girl so people would praise me more.”
“That’s very you, Akagi.”
“The upshot—everyone in junior high laughed at me for being too serious.”
“I noticed.”
“You did not.”
“I did.”
“Really?”
“Well, I was reminded of it. You cleaned the chalkboard better than anyone else, right? Made those erasers like new. Used a cleaner that inhaled the chalk dust—no one else had ever done that.”
“My one accomplishment.”
She laughed at herself. Not at Sakuta, but at her own past.
“But at the time, I thought that was me. It didn’t feel hard at all.”
“And that all started with a single ‘Good girl.’”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe Nene Iwamizawa had people say she was like Touko Kirishima, and she thought that would help her find herself.”
It was at least a ray of hope.
She’d mistaken that for a path forward.
“That ever happen to you, Azusagawa?”
“Someone told me I was capable of kindness. And I felt like that was worth trying out.”
“You still believe that, huh?”
“Which means you might well be right.”
“Mm?”
“This is pretty typical.”
Singing Touko Kirishima’s songs had gotten Nene the attention she craved. A taste of her goals. What she’d always wanted. The person she wanted to be.
Her ideal self.
It must have felt good.
In Nene’s case, that just happened to be Touko Kirishima. Being someone worthy of attention was more important than being Nene Iwamizawa.
“Once again, Akagi, I’m glad you came.”
He put the empty mug down and flopped over backward onto the tatami. The tall ceilings of the inn stared back at him.
“Best you go upstairs if you’re gonna nap,” she said.
“I know.”
But his eyes were already closed.
✦ ✦ ✦
The next morning, New Chitose Airport had far more snow than the weather forecast had predicted.
Enough that Sakuta woke up, saw the snow, and feared their flight would not take off.
“That’ll be fine. Might be a bit of a delay, though.”
Sakuta and Ikumi had been staring out the window in horror, but Takumi was from Hokkaido—he was used to snow.
It took a while to clear the runways, but Takumi was right—the flight took off after an hour delay.
They left New Chitose Airport at eight thirty.
The flight itself was approximately an hour and a half, and they landed at Haneda Airport just after ten AM.
A bus took them to the arrivals lobby, and by the time they reached the gates of the Keikyu Line, it was past ten thirty.
They boarded an express bound for Yokohama and sat down together.
The ride ended at their usual station—Kanazawa-hakkei.
From the roundabout outside, they hailed a cab and gave the driver Nene’s address.
It had been a ten-minute walk.
So the taxi got them there in less than five.
They looked up at the three-story building where Nene lived.
Sakuta had been here just yesterday.
“You two go on ahead. I’ll pay the driver,” Ikumi said.
Sakuta and Takumi were out the doors the moment the car stopped.
Up the stairs to the second floor.
Room 201.
Sakuta hit the intercom button at full speed.
The bell rang inside.
But they heard nothing else.
No one answered.
Didn’t sound like anyone was home.
“Azusagawa, move.”
One hand in his pocket, Takumi gave Sakuta’s shoulder a shove with the other. Sakuta ceded the ground, and Takumi pulled out a thin metal object. Two keys on one key holder—and one went in the lock on the door.
“You had a spare?”
“I’m her boyfriend.”
“Jealous.”
“Is this the time?”
Takumi turned the key and opened the door.
“Nene, it’s me. Can I come in?”
Paying lip service to courtesy, Takumi stepped right on into the room.
Sakuta followed.
The doormat hadn’t changed.
But the place felt empty.
No sounds came from within.
The lights were off.
“Nene? Are you home?” Takumi said, opening the door at the back of the kitchen. “Huh? Ha?!”
He made some very odd noises.
Takumi seemed to be stuck in the doorway, staring at the room beyond in disbelief.
Mind blown by the overwhelming Christmasness inside it.
Sakuta had been just as shocked.
But they didn’t have time for this.
“She’ll likely be wearing a miniskirt Santa outfit, so don’t let that freak you out.”
Best to warn about these things.
“That, I’m looking forward to.”
“My man.”
As they talked, they were looking around. The toy block lodge was on the folding table, completed. She’d finished Sakuta’s work.
“It did not look like this the last time I was here,” Takumi said, moving a tiny tree on her desk. “This is where she kept the trophy,” he added, pulling out the trophy and putting it back in the seat of honor.
As he did, his sleeve brushed the open laptop. This shook the screen and woke it from sleep. There was a whir of the fan, and the screen lit up.
“Uh, Azusagawa…”
Takumi pointed at the laptop.
It was open to the Fujisawa official account—and the post about Mai Sakurajima serving as police chief for the day.
The event would be held in the outdoor space by the mall in Tsujido. Same place Sweet Bullet had once given a concert. Today, at two PM.
“Like Futaba said.”
“Nene’s not really gonna do anything to Sakurajima, is she?”
“We can’t be sure, so we’ve gotta find her.”
“Do we stake out the venue?”
Sakuta had been hoping they could catch her here.
If only the flight hadn’t been delayed, he thought, heading for the door. Then his eyes caught the drying rack in the kitchen. There was a mug on it, and it was still visibly wet.
He glanced at the electric kettle by the stove.
The lid was open.
The water inside still steaming.
“This means…”
Sakuta and Takumi exchanged glances.
“She’s not far off,” Sakuta said.
Takumi nodded. “If she’s headed to Tsujido—the station?”
“She borrowed a car to get to Motomachi. Might be doing that again.”
“There’s a car-share place by the station!” Takumi said. “Nene would totally borrow one!”
They threw their shoes on and ran out the door.
Down the stairs, they found Ikumi giving them a searching look. But Sakuta’s eyes were on the cab they’d taken here—which was caught at a red light.
“Give us another ride!” he yelled, waving both arms.
The light turned green.
The taxi’s blinker went on, and it pulled over.