“What do you mean, her condition’s deteriorating rapidly?!” As Gorou Amamiya shouted, lightning split the night sky. Outside the window, a blustering wind was making the trees in the forest toss and sway. Heavy rain had been falling since that afternoon. It was a big storm, unusual for January. According to the weather report, Takachiho would be stormy all night. Large drops of rain were striking the hospital windows with a rattle like machine-gun fire. I hate this, Gorou thought. His grandmother had died on a stormy night like this one. Bad things always happened on days when the weather was this rotten. Just a few minutes ago, the hospital had called his phone and told him to come in. A dark premonition had hung over Gorou’s heart ever since he took that call. He kept imagining the worst, and he couldn’t shake those thoughts. Now he was venting that unease on the person who’d summoned him. “What exactly happened to her?! Tell me!” “Calm down, Amamiya. Yelling isn’t going to help anything.” The doctor seated at a desk in the medical office was Toudou, a neurosurgeon at the hospital where Gorou was interning. He was around fifty years old and Sarina Tendouji’s attending physician. Although his hairline had retreated dramatically, he was a veteran at the hospital with a fair number of achievements under his belt. He was second to none, particularly in the field of brain surgery, and he performed over fifty operations annually. The doctor’s surgical knowledge had helped Gorou out many times during his internship. Right now, though, Toudou was so exhausted that his veteran’s sense of self-assurance seemed to have vanished. Behind his glasses, his eyes were sunken, and his cheeks looked gaunt. Apparently, he’d been holed up in the ICU until just now. In other words, this was incredibly urgent. “I do feel bad calling you in at a time like this,” Toudou said. Gorou just pressed him harder. “I don’t care about that! I just want to know how this came out of nowhere!” “I know exactly how you feel. I’d like the answer to that myself.” Toudou picked up his coffee cup and heaved a sigh. About thirty minutes ago, Toudou had called Gorou and said, “I need to talk to you about Sarina.” It had been close to midnight. Gorou had been at home, but he’d hastily changed back into his work clothes and sped through the storm to the hospital. Gorou was training to become a doctor, so he knew exactly what it meant when the hospital called in its staff for emergencies. “Sarina’s condition took a sharp turn for the worse a few hours ago. She developed a high fever and convulsive seizures, and she’s been in a semiconscious state ever since. It’s an extremely dangerous situation,” Toudou repeated, as if reasoning with Gorou. “We’ve done all we can, but she’s still walking the border between life and death. Tonight is going to be critical.” “You’ve got to be kidding me…!” Gorou shook his head. No matter how many times he was told the same thing, the shock of those words was huge. It made him feel as if a giant hand was crushing his heart. After all, just this afternoon, he and Sarina had been talking like always. They’d been discussing B Komachi’s upcoming show in Miyazaki, which he’d gotten tickets to the month before. They’d been having fun figuring out what they’d wear on the day and what they wanted to talk about with Ai when they met her. And now… “All of a sudden, telling me ‘Tonight is going to be critical’? …There’s no way I could believe that! Sensei, come on, wasn’t there anything you could do?!” “Unfortunately, no. Medicine isn’t all-powerful.” Toudou shook his head weakly. It looked like he was cursing his own helplessness. “When I excised her tumor two years ago, the cancer had already metastasized to other parts of her brain. I knew the progression of the disease couldn’t be stopped.” Anaplastic astrocytoma. That was the name of Sarina’s disease. Simply put, it was a type of malignant tumor that tended to develop in the brain. It generally had many serious symptoms, including sensory disturbances, impaired gait, and intellectual disability. The five-year survival rate from the time of discovery was only 20 percent. Naturally, Gorou was well aware that it wasn’t an easily treatable disease. “Once the cytoma has metastasized, radiation therapy is next to useless. We knew this day would come eventually. You must have been prepared for it as well, Amamiya.” “I mean… Yes, but…” Gorou couldn’t help holding on to hope. “But she was doing so well just this afternoon. She was speaking normally, and her appetite was good. She was having so much fun talking about going to the concert!” “I see.” Toudou’s shoulders slumped. “The thing is, Amamiya, that’s what diseases are like. They always try to snuff out the patient’s life at unpredictable times.” “I just can’t believe it…!” “I don’t want to believe it myself. It always happens like this.” There was pity in Toudou’s eyes as he looked at Gorou. It wasn’t just him. The other doctors and nurses in the medical office were all watching Gorou with sympathy. Everyone knew he’d spent a lot of time with Sarina. A young female nurse spoke to him. “Um, I think Sarina looked like she was doing so well because she was trying to put on a brave face. Because she was with you, Amamiya-sensei.” “Because she was…with me?” “Her condition has been going downhill for the past several weeks. She’s had several seizures, and there were some problems with memory and speech.” “No… But then why…?” Why didn’t anyone tell me? Gorou wanted to say, but he cut himself short. He was only an intern, and Sarina wasn’t his patient. He’d just chatted with her on a personal basis. He wasn’t in any position to say anything about her treatment. He didn’t need anybody to point that out to him. However, the nurse’s answer wasn’t the one he’d expected. “I’m sorry. Sarina told us not to. She said, ‘Don’t tell Sensei.’” “Huh…?” “She treasured the time she spent with you more than anything, Amamiya-sensei. She said she wanted to just have fun chatting with you until the very end. I think that’s why she didn’t want you to know her condition was getting worse. Once you knew, she wouldn’t be able to talk with you as if everything was normal anymore.” Gorou was speechless. He’d had no idea Sarina was being so careful around him. “She was planning to go to an idol concert in spring, right?” Toudou said, his expression grave. “When I gave permission for her to attend, I already knew it was very unlikely she’d be able to. The probability was ten percent at most.” “So you gave permission even though you knew it was basically impossible?” “Either way, I knew it would be her last opportunity to make a cherished memory. If she managed to go, it would be a stroke of good fortune. Even if she wasn’t able to go, it would give her something to look forward to.” “Something to look forward to…? That’s just cruel.” “I do think Sarina was aware of it herself. After all, it’s her body.” “So I’m the only one who didn’t pick up on it?” I’m a total idiot, he thought. Here he was, working toward becoming a doctor, and he hadn’t even noticed a patient was lying. Gorou found himself grinding his teeth. “Dammit.” If only he’d picked up on that lie… If he’d realized Sarina’s condition was worsening earlier, he would have been able to use that time for something more important. “Oh, right! What about her parents? Their daughter’s in bad shape. They’ll need to see her soon.” “Unfortunately…” The nurse shook her head. Apparently, Sarina’s parents had had plans they hadn’t been able to change, so they couldn’t get here right away. Gorou couldn’t understand what they were thinking. They’d never come to visit their own daughter in the hospital, and even now when she was dying, they still couldn’t bother to be here? What did they take her for? Did they really think treating her like that wouldn’t make her sad? Their callousness was making his blood boil. “How does that even happen?!” His voice came out louder than he’d meant it to. “Sarina may be dying, and her parents can’t even show up?!” “They both work in the city, and they can’t get here right away…” The nurse looked troubled. Her expression was complicated; she sympathized with Sarina, but she’d already half resigned herself to the situation. Gorou wasn’t capable of that. Time as a family was limited. You needed to make memories while you had the chance, or you’d lose something you could never get back. There were people in the world like him, who had no memories with their parents at all. He didn’t want Sarina to experience that loneliness. “And they call themselves parents?! Mothers are—” Sitting at the desk, Toudou sighed. “You’re living in a fantasy. There are parents like hers, too. Loads of them.” His tone was cold. Oddly, there was neither anger nor sadness in his expression. Toudou had dealt with many patients in his work as a surgeon. He’d probably witnessed the deaths of more than a few from pediatrics. If he said families like Sarina’s weren’t uncommon, then it was a fact. Even so, Gorou couldn’t accept the way Sarina’s parents were treating her. Letting her die all alone like this was just too sad. Quietly, Toudou went on. “Sarina really took a liking to you. Go be with her at the end.” Gorou couldn’t even respond. He was angry, but he didn’t know who or what to vent it on. Toudou must have seen that. With a soft sigh, he turned a commiserating gaze on Gorou. “It may be a painful experience, but it’s a road every doctor must walk. Don’t get too discouraged.” Gorou had no idea how to answer that. He didn’t even have what it took to accept the situation yet. It took all of his effort to simply nod and say “All right.” The air in Room 201 felt heavy. In the darkness, the only sounds were the ceaseless rain and the electronic beeps of the EKG. They made for a dissonant, ill-matched duet. Sarina lay quietly on the bed, her eyes closed. Her skin was terribly dry and as pale as porcelain. She could have been a lifeless doll. It was clear that she was near death. She wasn’t conscious, but Gorou could tell she was in incredible pain. Beneath her oxygen mask, her breathing was shallow and labored. The furrows between her eyebrows seemed as deep as crevasses. There was a world of difference between this and the energetic, smiling girl she’d been just half a day ago. It was hard to believe they were the same person. Sitting down on the stool beside her bed, Gorou hung his head. “Why? Why does it have to be like this…?” This wasn’t the first time Gorou had come face-to-face with a person dying in hospital. He’d said good-bye to his own grandmother, and over the course of his internship, he’d watched patients he’d grown close to breathe their last. However, none of them had ever shattered him like this. The sight of Sarina gradually growing weaker made him feel as if something inside him was about to fall apart. It was clear why. That was how big a presence she’d become in his life. “The first time I met you, I thought you were just some weird kid.” Gorou had met Sarina the previous summer, when he’d foiled her attempt to escape from the hospital. After that, she’d told him about Ai and B Komachi, and they’d started talking frequently. He vividly remembered all their conversations. When she was talking about the things she loved, she looked like she was having an absolute blast, and little by little, it had charmed him. He’d never been as enthusiastic as Sarina was about anything. Reading was about the only interest he had, but even that he could go without. He’d always assumed he wasn’t the type of person who loved anything for dear life. Maybe that was why Sarina had intrigued him. Somehow, in this moment, he was able to analyze the reason. “Your situation’s similar to mine, and yet you’re completely different.” Sarina had spent most of her life alone in the hospital, and her family had never properly loved her. Gorou had probably seen himself in her. He’d never known either of his parents, and the life his grandmother had expected him to lead was the only one he’d been able to choose. In that sense, he and Sarina were similar. However, Sarina had something he didn’t: Her passion for Ai and B Komachi. Gorou hadn’t been able to understand it completely, but it hadn’t been a bad feeling at all watching her enjoy cheering them on. Seeing her smile made him feel as if he’d also been saved. Maybe that was what he’d wanted. The way Sarina was able to say “I love Ai!” from the bottom of her heart had seemed dazzling to him. “That’s right. You were looking forward to seeing Ai so much…” When Gorou had come back with tickets to B Komachi’s show in Miyazaki, Sarina had been delighted with every fiber of her being. Simply getting to see her look like that had made all the trouble he’d gone through seem worth it. But just when her wish was finally going to come true, Sarina’s time had run out. “It’s not fair… The gods are too cruel…” Sarina was only twelve years old. At that age, she should have been going to school, playing with friends, and spending her days being cheerful and having fun. Instead, she was dying alone in a hospital bed. It was just too sad. Looking down at Sarina’s face, Gorou bit his lip. No matter how much pity he felt for her, there was nothing he could do. It was so extremely frustrating. Even Toudou and the other veteran doctors had determined that there was nothing to be done. He knew it was true. Modern medicine couldn’t save her. All he could do now was watch her die. He was so helpless that it made him feel nauseous. Just then… “…Sensei?” Sarina slowly opened her eyes where she lay on the bed. She’d regained consciousness. She removed her oxygen mask with a trembling hand and smiled at him. “You’re here… Sorry. I didn’t notice.” “Don’t push yourself, Sarina. You need to sleep—” But before Gorou could finish, Sarina said, “Guess what? I had a dream.” “A dream?” “I was…an idol,” she said, slowly and gently. Her eyes were shining so brightly that it was hard to believe she was near death. “I was a member of B Komachi… I was standing onstage, just like Ai, and performing in front of a crowd of fans.” “You were performing…?” “There were two other members. They were both super cute, and the three of us were really close…” Sarina gave a little laugh. “That’s kind of weird, huh? The real B Komachi has seven members.” “Nah, dreams never make much sense.” Gorou tried to smile the way Sarina was, but he only managed to make the corners of his lips curve awkwardly. Sarina knew her life was ending, but she was still telling him about her dream as if she was having fun. It was incredibly painful to watch. “You were in the crowd, Sensei, waving your lightsticks for dear life and cheering us on. That made me so happy…” Sarina’s eyes creased in a smile. A drop of water fell from the corner of one of them, leaving a track across her dry cheek. Gorou didn’t know how to respond. Putting on the best smile he could manage, he nodded. “Yeah. You can leave the cheering to me. Once you’re an idol, I’ll race there at the drop of a hat.” “Eh-heh-heh… Because you’re a total idol otaku now, huh, Sensei?” “No, I’m—” But just as Gorou was about to deny it, Sarina gave a little grunt and grimaced with pain. Her head was probably hurting. Gorou reached for the nurse call button by her pillow. “Just sit tight. I’ll call Toudou-sensei.” But Sarina shook her head. “It’s fine. I can tell…this is it…” “That’s not true. You’ll be better in no time. Yeah, it’s only a matter of time before they discharge you. Then you’ll be able to go to all the B Komachi shows you want, and you can work on becoming an idol.” Even as he said them, the words felt ridiculously shallow. That future wasn’t a possibility for her anymore. No matter how positive he tried to be, the impossible couldn’t be changed. Sarina probably knew that as well. As she gazed into his eyes, the corners of her lips quirked up. “You’re so kind, Sensei. But you’re a really lousy liar…” “I didn’t mean it as a lie.” “You’re not allowed to make a face like that. You’ve got to get better at lying.” Sarina gave a little smile. Then she reached over and picked up an object off the bedside table, and held it out to Gorou. “Sensei… Here. This is for you.” She handed him an acrylic keychain. It had a caricature of Ai and the words Ai’s My Fave Forever!!! printed on it. Apparently, it was official B Komachi merch. “When I was doing better…I went to a B Komachi concert, just once…and I got it from…a gacha machine.” Sarina’s voice was getting weaker. Gorou felt as if the flame of her life was burning lower with each word she said. It hurt so badly that there was nothing he could do to stop it. “Take good care of it. Pretend it’s me.” He’d heard that Sarina had tried to go to a B Komachi show once. Her condition hadn’t been up to it, though, and she’d said she’d ended up coming back without getting to see the actual concert. That was the only B Komachi event she’d ever gone to. In which case, this keychain she’d gotten there must be her greatest treasure. Now she was giving it up. Gorou didn’t even want to think about what that meant. He couldn’t let Sarina see him looking sad, though. He gritted his teeth and squeezed the keychain tightly. “All right. I’ll treasure it always. Forever…” Gorou’s words made Sarina giggle, and an expression of relief came over her face. She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “Sensei, I love you so much…” Her outstretched fingertips touched his cheek. They were cold. He couldn’t sense any life left in them. “Even if…I’m reborn, I’m sure I’ll still—” That was all she said before her eyes closed. The hand that had touched Gorou’s cheek fell limply to the bed. The monitor’s intermittent beeps stopped. Sarina’s heart had finally finished its work. Gorou had forgotten he was breathing. There was no such thing as reincarnation. He’d never see Sarina’s smile again. Just thinking about it was heart-wrenching. In the end, he hadn’t been able to do anything. All he’d done was give Sarina somebody to talk to for a little while. He hadn’t been able to save her. He hadn’t even managed to give her a single fun memory. What kind of a doctor did that make him? What kind of “Sensei”? He was disgusted by his own powerlessness. In the darkness, he looked down at the girl’s still, silent body. His vision blurred until he couldn’t see her face clearly anymore, but he kept his eyes fixed on it. The ferocious sound of the rain seemed to reach him from somewhere very far away. For a while after that, his busy days continued. Sarina’s parents didn’t make an appearance at the hospital until a full three days after her death. Make that parent, actually—only her father had come. Apparently, he’d given only the briefest of greetings to her doctor and the rest of the staff and hardly spoken otherwise. He’d hurriedly collected Sarina’s body and had it sent to the hearse. Gorou hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been confident that he could keep his cool if he met Sarina’s parents face-to-face. He’d spent that day silently applying himself to his clinical practice. He shadowed the senior doctors on their rounds, assisted with surgeries, and silently accepted the hospital director’s sermons. He did the same thing the next day and the day after that. As long as he was absorbed in something, he didn’t have to think. Life was easier that way. Several days passed. February had begun, but the weather was still bitterly cold. On the surface, Gorou’s life hadn’t changed at all. He simply did what he had to do, impassively, the way he’d done before he met Sarina. He continued studying to become an ob-gyn, quietly and diligently. About the only thing that had changed was how much he drank after work. “—Here you go. One single malt, neat,” said the white-haired bar owner, setting a glass of amber liquid down in front of Gorou. He was in a long-standing bar behind Nobeoka Station. It had six seats at the counter, plus two tables. Gorou, sitting at the bar, was the only customer there. The elderly owner probably ran the place by himself. Everything—the dishes, the cupboards, and the leather-upholstered chairs—gave off a retro vibe. The wall was decorated with a vintage guitar and jazz records from the ’70s. The whole bar felt as if the times had left it behind, but the atmosphere was strangely pleasant. It was the perfect place to relax with a drink. Gorou downed the glass of whiskey in front of him in one go. Its subtle fragrance traveled through his mouth, then burned its way down his throat. He felt intoxicated, his head reeling slightly. The world warped and seemed to give off a dull heat. He’d never had any intention of savoring the drink. He just wanted the alcohol. When he wasn’t drunk, he was crushed by a miserable sense of helplessness. Setting his empty glass on the bar, Gorou looked up at the barkeep. “Another one, thanks.” The man examined his face and frowned, deepening his wrinkles. “You’re not done yet? You’re drinking like a fish today, my friend. Maybe you should switch to water soon.” Gorou didn’t need some stranger telling him what to do. He was drinking to get drunk, full stop. He stared back at the bartender. Giving up, the man accepted his glass with a sigh. He refilled it with whiskey, then set it back down in front of Gorou. “There. That’s your twentieth glass tonight.” “Yeah. Thanks,” Gorou said absentmindedly, raising the whiskey to his lips. It didn’t taste good or bad. Granted, alcohol wasn’t the only thing he couldn’t enjoy the flavor of anymore. The bar’s owner watched him from across the counter, looking worried. “Listen, I don’t know what happened, but drinking to forget isn’t a great idea.” “That’s not really what I’m trying to do.” “I’m telling you, it’s bad for you. You’re still young; you don’t want to put yourself in the hospital.” Gorou started to tell him he already worked there, then shrugged. He was still technically just an intern, and even if he had been a proper doctor, it wouldn’t have changed anything. He was well aware that doctors were powerless. “Leave me alone, all right? I won’t cause any trouble for your bar.” His rejection must have come through loud and clear. The owner only said “Fine, then” before averting his gaze. The fact that its proprietor was so reasonable was one of the things Gorou liked about this place. Just as he picked up his glass again, the small bell over the bar’s door tinkled. “Well! If it isn’t Gorou.” He glanced over at the speaker, who’d just walked in. She was a rather flashy woman about his age, with reddish-brown hair styled in a carefree mass of loose curls. She was wearing a pink miniskirt and a frilly top that left her shoulders bare, and her makeup was pretty dramatic. She seemed as if she probably worked as a nightclub hostess somewhere. Her wide, mascara-fringed eyes seemed vaguely familiar to Gorou. “Oh, uh—” “It’s me, Yumiko. Did you forget me?” The woman sat down beside him at the bar. Her perfume was intense and cloying. “Barkeep, get me one of whatever Gorou’s drinking.” Had he met this woman somewhere before? He tried to remember, but his liquor-soaked brain wouldn’t cooperate. If he couldn’t remember, then he just couldn’t, and that was that. It meant she hadn’t been all that important. Taking a gulp of whiskey, he told her, “Sorry, but I have no idea who you are.” For some reason, that seemed to strike Yumiko as funny, and she let out a cackle. “That’s sooo mean! Gorou, your jokes are as harsh as ever.” “I wasn’t joking.” “Oh, you actually forgot me? Well, I guess it’s been about a year since we last drank together. That sure takes me back…” Yumiko gave a chuckle full of meaning, then leaned in, putting her face a little too close to his. They were so close that their breath mingled. Apparently, she’d been more than just a drinking buddy. “You haven’t called me at all lately. I’ve been lonely.” There had been a time when Gorou had gone barhopping around here. It had been just after he’d come back to intern in Miyazaki after finishing med school in Tokyo. She might have been one of the women he’d gotten close to back then, though there were so many possibilities, he couldn’t say for sure. “Well, I guess you would be busy. After all, you’re a doctor in training. I’m sure the girls won’t leave you alone, either.” “It’s not like that.” Thinking about it, it had been a long time since he’d messed around with a woman. His attention had been completely focused on B Komachi. He’d been watching the videos he’d borrowed from Sarina, listening to that Talk Masterpiece Collection over and over, collating the latest information about the group online… Before he knew it, he’d been spending the bulk of his spare time following Ai. “You know, the way you’re talking, Sensei, Ai’s totally taken you captive, too.” Out of nowhere, that childlike voice came back to him. A sharp pain ran through his chest. If he was remembering things like that, maybe he wasn’t drunk enough yet. He took another swallow of whiskey. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Yumiko smiled wryly. “My, my. You’re pretty strung out. Did you get your heart broken?” “My what?” “You just look as lonely as an abandoned puppy tonight. I thought you might be dealing with a breakup.” “That’s not… It’s none of your business,” he told her brusquely. The woman was shameless, invading his privacy like this. “Never mind that, just leave me alone.” But Yumiko was undeterred. “Hmm.” She peered insolently into his face. “You were really serious about that girl, weren’t you? What was she like?” Instead of answering, Gorou drained his glass. Sarina hadn’t been his girlfriend. She hadn’t even been his patient. What had she been to him, then? Now that he thought about it, it was hard to sum up in just a few words. A young girl with an incurable illness he’d met at the hospital where he was interning. A huge indie idol fan. A girl who’d dreamed of becoming an idol. She was all those things, yet at the same time, he felt like they were all wrong. He’d spent half a year with her, but he couldn’t even put her into a category. Although it seemed pretty late for this, the realization left Gorou stunned. The girl’s life had lasted a mere twelve years, and it had ended in a hospital bed. Because of her illness, she hadn’t been blessed with a good family life, and she hadn’t been able to make her dream come true. What exactly had her life been for? What had it left in its wake? Staring at the bits of ice left in the bottom of his glass, Gorou tried to visualize Sarina’s face. Her innocent smile came back to him immediately. That was a relief. However, in time, it would probably get harder to remember her. Her family would forget her; so would her doctors, someday. At that point, would there really be nothing to prove she’d lived? That idea was incredibly sad. Gorou sighed. He’d thought about stuff he shouldn’t think about, and now his head felt heavy. It was probably time to leave the bar for the day. Getting up from his stool, Gorou pulled a ten-thousand-yen bill from the pocket of his slacks. “Close out my tab with this,” he said, carelessly setting it on the bar. Then he started for the door on unsteady feet. Behind him, Gorou heard the woman say “Wait, where are you going?” but he didn’t even have the energy to respond. The chilly wind caressed his alcohol-flushed skin. He checked the time on his phone; it had just turned ten. He’d be fine, then. It should still be possible to grab a taxi. Gorou slowly set off for the traffic circle at the station. The air was cold, and every step seemed to wake him up a little more. To be honest, he still didn’t feel drunk enough. If he was just buzzed, he’d end up thinking about unpleasant stuff again. It might be a good idea to have another drink or two at home. As he was thinking, a sudden weight came to bear on his right shoulder. “Gorooou?” It was Yumiko, the woman from the bar. She’d caught his right arm and was clinging to it. The smell of her perfume was so overpowering it made his head spin. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” “Eh-heh-heh! When I saw how broody you were back there, I got kind of jealous.” “Huhn?” “If your breakup was that sad, you must be hurting, right? Want me to make you feel better tonight?” “I’m good.” “Aw!” Yumiko crossly puffed out her pink cheeks. “Why not, huh? It’s been ages since we saw each other. Let’s go have a few more drinks somewhere.” “Just give it a rest. If you want to drink with a guy, go find another one. There are tons of them around here.” Gorou tried to shake her off, but Yumiko didn’t intend to let go. She held on to his arm tightly with both hands. “Well, we don’t have to drink, then. We could just find somewhere to lie down.” “Would you just knock it off?” Feeling fed up, Gorou shook his head. He’d picked up trouble. Things might have been different before, but he didn’t feel like spending tonight with a woman who seemed this easy. “Come on. Let me go.” As he was trying to pry himself free of Yumiko, a rough voice shouted behind them. “Hey! Asshole! Whaddaya think you’re doing with my girl?!” Gorou turned to see a muscular man with spiked hair standing there. He was in his mid-thirties, wearing a button-down shirt with a garish pattern on it. Silver necklaces gleamed in its wide-open neck. He was clearly a thug. The guy was glaring at Gorou, veins bulging on his forehead. “You better be ready for a beatdown,” he growled. “Whoops,” Yumiko said, releasing Gorou’s arm. This thug was probably her lover or something similar. Not that Gorou cared. Adjusting his glasses, he turned to face the other man. “Don’t get the wrong idea. She came on to me—” “Huhn?! Trying to talk your way outta this?!” The man closed in on Gorou and hauled him up by his shirtfront. “You sonuvabitch!” the thug roared, slamming a fist into his cheek. Sparks exploded in front of Gorou’s eyes. The sudden pain left him helpless, and his glasses slipped off and hit the asphalt. Before he could ask What are you doing?! the man raised his fist again, and a blow to the shoulder planted Gorou on his ass. “Eeeeek!” Yumiko screamed. “Tacchan, stop it! Violence isn’t—” “Quit yapping! You stay out of this!” Shoving Yumiko out of the way, the man closed in on Gorou again. He was breathing heavily through his nose, apparently having lost himself in his anger. He’s like a mad bull, Gorou thought. No matter where you were, there were always a few people who’d jump to violence at the slightest provocation. It was ASPD—antisocial personality disorder. For some reason, Gorou hazily remembered learning about it at university. For an intern with ambitions of being an ob-gyn, that information was basically just trivia. Even though he’d just been decked out of nowhere, Gorou’s mind was calm. Even he wasn’t sure why he was so cool and collected. Was it because he was drunk? Or had he lost a screw or two somewhere, making it so his ability to feel pain no longer worked properly? Come to think of it, he remembered Sarina telling him his emotions were all dried up and dead. That was exactly what this felt like. He couldn’t feel pain or suffering, delight or pleasure. Nothing. She was pretty observant about people, he thought, and an involuntary chuckle escaped him. The thug wasn’t amused. His face twisted so ferociously that he looked like a devil. “Don’t you laugh at me, you little shit!” The thug raised a leg, then sank his foot into Gorou’s solar plexus. The jolt made it feel as if his stomach was turning inside out. As the man’s toes sank into Gorou’s abdomen, a pathetic grunt escaped him. Should he run? Should he get back on his feet and defend himself? Or should he grab his phone and call the police? There were several things Gorou could have done, but he chose to do nothing. He’d realized that if he let the pain take over, he could forget the stuff he didn’t want to think about. Besides, even if he died here, the world wouldn’t change one bit. As far as he was concerned, nothing mattered anymore. The fact that his victim wasn’t resisting seemed to go to the thug’s head. He straddled Gorou’s torso and started whaling away on him. “You’re not getting away with this, bastard! Messing with my girl! I’ll murder you!” Between the blows to his face and head, Gorou’s consciousness started to fade. Beside him, the woman was screaming something, but it was getting harder and harder to hear her. Well, it wasn’t his problem. Right now, everything felt meaningless. If he wants to kill me, he can go right ahead. It might have been partly due to the alcohol, but his body was as heavy as lead, and he couldn’t work up the energy to defend himself. What would even be the point continuing to live such a listless life? It would just be an endless chain of empty days, tomorrow, the next day, and every day after that. He didn’t foresee any pleasure in a future like that. Getting beaten to death now would probably be better. Looking up at the thug’s warped grin, Gorou muttered quietly to himself, “Might as well let it all end here.” Just then, he felt Yumiko watching him. She was staring at him with hollow eyes. What was the matter with her? She lowered her gaze and whispered to him. “—You mustn’t.” Her voice sounded odd. It was perfectly clear yet somehow otherworldly. “Huh?” the thug said. He stopped hitting Gorou and looked at the woman. “Did you say something?” Instead of responding, the woman took a step closer to Gorou. Crouching down, she met his eyes and held them. Her pupils were so dilated, it was unsettling. She seemed nothing like the woman she’d been just a few minutes earlier. It was as if she was possessed. “Do you imagine you can atone by dying here? Do you really think it’s what that girl would want?” Gorou couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The woman’s hollow eyes seemed to be gazing right into his heart. The thug looked bewildered, too. “What the hell?” Ignoring him, Yumiko went on. “Your life isn’t over yet. It mustn’t end yet.” Gorou couldn’t look away. He was in complete awe. It felt as if he were facing a god or a spirit, something beyond human understanding. He swallowed hard. “What do you mean, it’s not over yet?” “You still have a duty to perform.” “A duty?” Yumiko straightened up, looking down at Gorou. Her expression seemed inhuman, transcendent. “Accept the proof that that child lived.” “That child? The proof that she lived? What do you mean? What are you…?” Instead of answering, Yumiko pointed at Gorou. Her finger seemed to be directed at the breast pocket of his jacket. What was this about? When Gorou put his hand to that spot, he felt something hard under his fingertips. Come to think of it… He remembered. The keychain Sarina had given him—the acrylic one she’d gotten at the B Komachi show—was still in the inside pocket of this jacket. When he got it out, he saw the drawing of Ai’s smiling face. A magic smile, Sarina had called it. She’d said it cast a spell that captivated anyone who saw it. How had this woman known about the keychain? It didn’t make any sense. The thug’s mouth was hanging open. “Yumiko? What’s the matter with you, woman?” Without answering, Yumiko turned her back on the man and casually walked away. “H-hey! Wait up! Where are you going?!” The thug clambered to his feet and hastily ran after her. It wasn’t long before they’d both vanished into the darkness. Left alone on the street, Gorou felt stunned. What had that been, the change that had come over the woman? “I don’t get it…” He sat up, putting a hand to his throbbing head. Was it because he’d drunk too much or because he’d just gotten beaten up? He really didn’t feel as if he was in his right mind. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he’d hallucinated half of what had just happened. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to write off that conversation as a dream or illusion. He couldn’t get the woman’s words out of his mind. “Proof that that child lived…?” Gorou’s eyes went to the keychain again. He read the words Ai’s My Fave Forever!!! That magic smile still shone as brightly as it had when he first saw it. The next day, Gorou visited the brain surgery medical office. He’d been avoiding the place for no particular reason ever since Sarina had died. He’d stopped by today because he hadn’t been able to get what that woman had said to him the night before out of his mind. He thought the answer—the proof Sarina had lived—might be here. As soon as Gorou stepped into the office, Toudou looked up from his desk. He seemed shocked. “Amamiya, my boy, what happened to your face?” It was no wonder Toudou was startled. The beating Gorou had gotten from the thug had left his face swollen. He really didn’t feel like saying I got into a fight when I was drunk at work. “Oh, uh… I fell.” To a surgeon like Toudou, it was probably clear he hadn’t gotten those injuries from a fall. The man gave Gorou a long, hard look. Getting lectured would have been a pain, so Gorou changed the subject. “Never mind that, Sensei. I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch for so long, after all the help you gave me with Sarina.” “Oh, no, you don’t owe me an apology. In fact, I believe I owe you one. I ended up forcing the most difficult parts off on you.” Just then, something seemed to occur to Toudou. “Actually,” he said, “speaking of Sarina, I have something for you.” “You do?” “The nurse found this in the back of the bedside table drawer when she was clearing out Sarina’s room.” It was a white envelope. The words To Gorou-sensei were written on the front in small, rounded handwriting. “I thought I’d give it to you the next time I saw you. I haven’t looked at what’s inside, but there must have been something she wanted to tell you.” “Thank you very much,” Gorou said, accepting the envelope. Would he find the answer he was searching for inside it? After exchanging a few words with Toudou, Gorou headed for Room 201 in the inpatient ward. Until just a little while ago, that room had belonged to Sarina. Now that she was gone, it looked completely different. The curtains and bedding had been replaced. The B Komachi DVDs and merch that had always been on the bedside table had been tidied away. The empty room no longer held any trace of its former occupant. It was pristine, but there was something sad about it. “Now, then…” Settling onto the stool beside the bed, Gorou looked down at the envelope. He hadn’t had any particular reason for coming to this room. It had just seemed like a good place to read her letter. He opened the end of the envelope with a box cutter. Inside was a single sheet of cute character stationery, folded up small. When he unfolded it, the energetic words Hi, Sensei!! jumped out at him. By the time you read this, I probably won’t be here anymore. Since it’s you, I bet you’re playing it cool, but you’re probably feeling real depressed when nobody’s watching. “I guess so.” Gorou smiled a little. Sarina wasn’t wrong. She seemed to have a good handle on his personality. So, Sensei, I super-duper recommend this to you. Make sure you watch it. At the end of the letter was a URL link, and that was all. It was so short that it was a bit of a letdown. “So she’s telling me to go to this site…?” Gorou took out his phone and typed the URL into the web browser. Apparently, it directed him to a video upload site. The moment the page opened, upbeat music started to play. Go for it, you can do it, shine, shine, shine! You are gonna be just fine! The screen showed a stage bathed in the light of the setting sun. Scenes from a school somewhere were being projected onto the backdrop. It was footage of an athletic ground where a boys’ baseball team was practicing. What sort of show was this? As Gorou was feeling perplexed, girls in cheerleader-style idol costumes ran onstage from the sides of the screen. It was B Komachi. During the past six months, he’d watched those girls on DVD with Sarina over and over. There was no way he’d mistake them for anyone else. The girl in the lead was Ai, the permanent center. Stopping in the middle of the stage, she flashed her best smile at the camera. Show me the glow that’s yours alone, because my fave is the best ever known! The camera panned up to the sky. Backed by a melodious electric guitar riff, a title appeared in the center of the screen: A WISH FOR MY FAVE The video had apparently been shot at a B Komachi show. Considering the fact that Gorou had never seen it before, it was probably fan-made. Both the camerawork and the editing had an amateur roughness and warmth to it. Life’s got its ups and downs, you know. There’s no such thing as easy mode. The background footage switched from the school athletic field to a plaza in front of an urban train station. Weary-looking commuters were streaming into the station, while the B Komachi members smiled and waved pom-poms, as if cheering them on. There may be nights when you want to cry, but pick up your headphones, look up at the sky. Ai extended her hand to the camera. The gesture made Gorou’s heart skip a beat. It had looked as if she was singing just for him. No matter what happens, keep looking ahead. Your joy-filled smile I can’t get out of my head. The scene changed again, this time to a community center. Even in a hall filled with senior citizens, Ai’s smile just continued to shine brighter. When life gets hard, I’ll cheer for you. ’Cause that’s what makes me happy, too. A shopping arcade teeming with shoppers. A park where children were playing. The background footage kept changing. In front of it all, the B Komachi cheerleaders were dancing their hearts out. Ah, thought Gorou. The concept for this performance is “cheering people on.” They were cheering for all sorts of people: students and working adults, the old and the young. From the energy in Ai’s gaze, it felt as if she was trying to cheer up all of Japan. Go for it, you can do it, shine, shine, shine! You are gonna be just fine! Show me the glow that’s yours alone, because my fave is the best ever known! The chorus repeated, and then there was a musical interlude. The other members stepped off the edges of the screen, and the camera pulled in to focus on Ai. This was apparently her monologue. “Thank you for listening to our new song! This is B Komachi’s first cheer anthem, ‘A Wish for My Fave.’ What do you all think?! I was actually the one who proposed the staging for this performance!” “Huh?” Gorou was impressed. He’d known Ai was a girl of many talents, but he hadn’t thought she could pull off something like this. Maybe that meant the song was filled with emotions she’d badly wanted to get across to her audience. Ai’s gaze on the screen seemed to be focused right on Gorou. “You see, you’re all my faves. The other members of B Komachi, our fans, even the people who aren’t our fans yet but will be in the future… All of you. That means I want you to live your lives with everything you’ve got!” Ai clutched her mic, smiling brightly. That magic smile. “It’s irresponsible for me to say something like ‘You can do it!’ but I’m saying it anyway. After all, if this song gives even one person energy, that’s enough to make me happy!” As Ai finished speaking, the music swelled. The other members returned from off-screen, getting into a dance formation with Ai at the center, and they started singing again. Go, go, everyone! Go, go, Earth! Don’t forget how much you’re worth! Let this song reach every boy and girl. My wish for my fave will change the world! You’re all my faves. Had Ai really meant those words? Or had they just been one of those cheap catchphrases idols tended to use? Gorou didn’t actually care which it was. Her “irresponsible” encouragement had stirred his heart to the point where it almost hurt. Go for it, you can do it, shine, shine, shine! You are gonna be just fine! The song had reached its final chorus. The intensity in Ai’s gaze seemed to be genuinely urging him on: Go for it! You can do it! Maybe this song had supported Sarina during her battle against her disease as well. Show me the glow that’s yours alone, because my fave is the best ever known! Oh, I see, Gorou thought. This was what Sarina had wanted to tell him. Cheering on Ai had given her the energy to live. In other words, it was the proof that she had lived. “‘If you cheer someone on, it also makes you happy,’ huh…?” The words he’d once said to Toudou came back to him, and Gorou couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. “I was kidding, but I guess it really was like that for Sarina.” He’d never had anything to worry about. Through Ai’s songs, Sarina had already found joy in life. Not only that, she hadn’t let it stop with her; she’d tried to use this song to cheer him up as well. Doing it this way had been very like her. “I swear, Sarina… Still fangirling right up the very end.” Even as Gorou smiled, a hot tear rolled down his cheek. The drop fell onto the screen of his phone, blurring the dancing figures of the B Komachi members. He was incredibly sad yet also incredibly happy. He desperately wanted to cry, while also feeling like laughing out loud. The gift Sarina had left him shook his soul every which way. “Ha-ha! …My head’s such a mess. I don’t even know what to think. Both Ai and Sarina are seriously amazing.” It was strange. Watching Ai perform with all her might, Gorou felt as if Sarina was there, too, singing and dancing right alongside her. If she’d survived, and if she’d managed to make her dream come true, he was sure she would have been somebody who cheered up the people around her the way Ai did. Somehow, Gorou could vividly imagine a future where Sarina stood onstage in front of a packed house, smiling at the audience with everything she had. Go for it, you can do it, shine, shine, shine! You’re gonna be just fine! You’re gonna be just fine. It felt as if the optimism in that phrase had given him an encouraging thump on the back—Gorou suddenly felt like holding out hope for the future. The sort of future in which that young girl got another chance at life and made her dream come true. The fact that Ai could make him think something so impossible might mean she really was somebody extraordinary. See, Sensei? Ai’s the best, isn’t she?! He felt as if he’d heard those words out of nowhere. That couldn’t sound more like Sarina, he thought, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Show me the glow that’s yours alone, because my fave is the best ever known…!” The next thing he knew, he’d started singing the refrain to himself in time with the Ai in the video. “…Well, I mean, Toudou-sensei. It’s true that both Ari-pyan and Kyun-pan are good singers. But listen, Ai’s singing has serious potential. Simple words like good or bad aren’t enough to describe it. How do I put this…? It grabs the interest of everyone who sees the show, all at once. There are very few idols like her, even if you include the major ones. Putting it bluntly, she’s got the talent to sell out a dome right this minute. So at that level, you could say she’s a miracle—” “Just a minute,” Toudou interrupted. “Amamiya. I can tell how enthusiastic you are about this, so sorry for derailing you, but I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” “You’re just telling me that now? You said, ‘I don’t understand what’s so good about idols,’ so I’m explaining it to you.” “No, I didn’t ask you to explain it—” “Oh, come now. Don’t be like that. You’ll go nuts for them, too, Sensei, I promise. I’m positive about this.” They were at Toudou’s desk in the medical office. Gorou’s eloquent description of his favorite idol’s magnificence seemed to have left the other man stunned. Over the course of the three months since Toudou had given him Sarina’s letter, Gorou’s daily routine had changed. Two of those changes had been major ones. The first was that he’d stopped drinking himself senseless after work. The second was that, in exchange, he’d thrown himself into fandom. He collected B Komachi information and merch, admired it to his heart’s content, and spread the word about the group to everyone in his vicinity. Gorou had decided to face Ai wholeheartedly, just as Sarina had done. Sarina had idolized this girl, so Gorou would watch her career unfold in her place. He felt as if doing so would help him move forward as well. Toudou’s gaze was cold, but who cared? There was no stopping Gorou. “Up until a little while ago, I thought that way, too. I thought it was weird for a grown man to be obsessed with a girl over a decade younger than him. But the thing is, I realized I was wrong.” “Huh?” “Age has nothing to do with whether something’s good or not. In fact, there’s an endless amount of vitality to be gained by cheering on these girls. It’ll make you feel as if you’re practically their age. You’ll be rejuvenated, believe it or not.” “Rejuvenated, hmm?” Toudou seemed skeptical. So did the other doctors and nurses in the room. They were hanging back, watching Gorou coldly. “Amamiya-sensei’s seemed a little unhinged lately.” “I wonder if he’s been taking any, y’know…dangerous substances.” “It’s a bit of a shock. I thought he was handsome, but this is…” Wild rumors flew every which way, but Gorou couldn’t have cared less. Being crazy about his fave was everything to him now. “Now, then,” Gorou said, giving a quick bow to Toudou, who still looked exasperated. “On that note, I’m leaving early today.” “What do you mean, you’re leaving? You haven’t submitted today’s report yet.” “Well, B Komachi’s long-awaited Miyazaki show is tonight. This is clearly no time to be writing reports.” Gorou’s attitude was so brazen that it seemed to have made Toudou give up on logical argument. He only looked perplexed, and he let out a “Huhn?” his mouth hanging open. “I’ll do my report along with tomorrow’s and submit them both then. All right, Sensei. Good night.” That would do. Without waiting for the other man to respond, Gorou sailed out of the medical office in high spirits. When he looked up at the sky through a window in the corridor, the sunset had dyed it deep crimson. It was just after five in the evening. If he left now and drove fast, he’d make it in time to catch the beginning of the concert. His current favorite song, “A Wish for My Fave,” was stuck in his head. Would Ai perform that upbeat cheer anthem at today’s show? “When somebody tells you ‘You can do it,’ of course it makes you want to try.” Gorou gazed out absentmindedly at the eastern sky. The first star of the evening was up there, shining aquamarine.
Chapter 3
46 min read