Three o’clock came and went, and Touko’s father never came back from the fields. Given the length of the drive home, they left at half past three.
“I am sorry. He really can’t handle these things.”
The mother shook her head.
“Don’t worry about it,” Shouko said, smiling softly. “If you’ve no objections, I’d like to come visit Touko again.”
“By all means. Oh, please take this.”
The mother was starting to mist up again, but she handed Shouko a little bag. It was packed full of tea.
“Thank you so much.”
“Also…” She handed something else over.
A notebook.
“What’s this…?”
“An exchange diary. Touko and Miori…the friend I mentioned? They traded it back and forth. I thought it might help you get to know her better.”
“Are you sure…?”
Standing next to her, Sakuta could feel Shouko’s trepidation through his skin.
An exchange diary would be stuffed full of Touko’s unvarnished thoughts. They knew this must be hard for her mother to let go of.
“Of course. If you don’t object…”
“I’ll take good care of it. And I swear I’ll bring it back.”
Sakuta took the bag of tea, and Shouko accepted the exchange diary. Despite how slim the notebook was, it seemed heavy in her hands.
“We’d better get going.”
They bobbed their heads one last time and climbed into the car.
Touko’s mother waved, and Shouko bowed her head low. Sakuta gave them time for one last goodbye before he started driving.
After checking both ways, he pulled out onto the road and gradually reached the speed limit.
No cars ahead or behind.
For a while, they had the road to themselves, and they drove along in silence.
The whole time, Shouko sat in the passenger seat, her eyes on the cover of the exchange diary.
Touko and Miori.
Their names were on the cover, in their respective handwriting.
She made no attempt to open it and read. Even after accepting the notebook, Shouko seemed deeply unsure it was right for her to look inside.
In time, they reached the national road. They headed for the expressway entrance.
The farther they drove, the fewer houses they saw. Soon it was only tea fields.
“Her mother chose to entrust you with that, Makinohara. It’s safe to look.”
“Yeah.”
She nodded but still made no move to open it. Instead, she placed it carefully in her bookbag, making sure it wouldn’t be damaged.
“Once I’m home, I’ll take my time with it.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
To Shouko, these were the words of the benefactor who’d granted her a future. She’d want to treasure every last one.
“Her mom seemed nice,” he said, changing the subject.
The expressway came into view.
“Yeah, very nice.”
The tears had welled up in the kind woman’s eyes several times while talking about Touko, and that had stuck with them. It was plain to see she’d done everything she could to act cheery in front of them.
And seeing that firsthand had to have been especially hard on Shouko.
“……”
He figured that’s why she was so quiet.
“You did nothing wrong, Makinohara.”
“……That’s not necessarily true,” she said, with a rueful smile.
Sakuta pretended not to catch that look. He focused on the road.
“Sakuta, you know the fable about the butterfly that flaps its wings and causes a tornado somewhere else?” Shouko asked, her voice subdued.
“The butterfly effect? Futaba mentioned it once.”
“What starts as a small change can eventually become a very significant one.”
Shouko leaned against the passenger-side window. He could see her thoughtful expression reflected in it.
“Sure, but unless you’re Laplace’s demon, there’s no way to go from the result to the original root cause. Futaba said so. No one can know what really causes anything.”
He did know a petite devil, but Tomoe’s calculations applied exclusively to the future.
“So you did nothing wrong, Makinohara.”
As he said it, he turned onto the expressway ramp.
Shouko offered no response at all.
Sakuta sped up, merging into the sixty-five-mile-per-hour traffic.
“Are you okay, Sakuta?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“That stuff about Miori Mitou.”
“It sure came outta nowhere. Caught me by surprise.”
He meant that.
“But this means Mitou is definitely the real Touko Kirishima.”
“I think so, yeah.” Shouko nodded.
“She did say she can’t stand karaoke.”
He recalled the first day he met her. Everyone at the party they attended had decided to head for karaoke, and they’d bailed together.
“You think this is why?”
“That’s the kind of excuse Mitou would make.”
If she started singing, people might notice.
She was probably great at karaoke but had to pretend she wasn’t and make light of it.
“If ‘Touko Kirishima’ is rewriting reality, then that means this whole mess is Mitou’s fault.”
If he trusted the message from the other potential world, that is. But blaming her just didn’t feel right. And Shouko soon put one reason for that into words.
“What’s Miori really after?”
He really didn’t have a clue.
“I think I get the part where she’d sing using her friend’s name.”
“Making Touko unforgettable. Letting her name alone live on,” Shouko said.
Sakuta nodded. “But now everyone thinks ‘Touko Kirishima’ was Mai all along, and Mai herself said as much.”
“Do you think she rewrote reality that way because the real Touko was a big Mai fan?”
“Can’t rule it out…”
But that theory also didn’t quite fit, which gave him pause.
“You seem unconvinced.”
“I’ve just never felt anything like that from Mitou. No strong convictions or beliefs from what I could see.”
That’s why it didn’t make sense that she was rewriting things.
“What’s she like?” Shouko asked.
“Hard to get a read on. She always keeps herself just out of reach.”
“Like a mirage?”
“Maybe.”
He let out a laugh. An apt turn of phrase.
“But that makes one thing clear,” Shouko said.
“Does it?”
“Miori Mitou is exactly the type of person you go for, Sakuta.”
She flashed a triumphant grin.
“I said nothing like that. The only person who’s my type is Mai.”
“And also me.”
Shouko stuck out her tongue, and he grimaced.
“Oh, you wanted to stop at this rest area,” he said, switching to the left lane.