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Saiki didn’t even want to attend this stupid event. After fifteen years of not seeing these people, why would he force himself into a stiff suit, teleport to his hometown, and make himself endure an evening of the shallow chatter of his old classmates from PK Academy? He couldn’t even get drunk enough to drown them out. But, of course, his mom pressured him into it.
It didn’t take long for the usual cast of characters to locate him and start pestering him about what he’d been doing for the last decade and a half. “Nothing, mostly,” was his honest answer. It had been a peaceful fifteen years. Maybe uneventful, maybe boring, maybe soul-crushing, maybe lonely, but peaceful. He didn’t need to get into all of that.
Perhaps you’d be curious to know who ended up with whom and where everyone ended up employed. Who went to college? Who went straight into a career? Who had kids? How many? Did Kaidou ever get over his delusions? Was Kuboyasu able to stay out of the gangs? Did Hairo still have his muscles? Was Teruhashi able to fend off the talent agents and maintain her life of not-so-humble beauty? Did Yumehara find love? Did Mera find money? But all Saiki wanted to know was how much longer he’d have to stay until he wouldn’t be considered impolite for leaving. At least the bar served coffee. He finished his third cup as someone else tried to remember his name before deciding that his name was definitely Seiko, right? At least they were close.
Finally, Nendou wandered into the venue, wearing a tropical shirt, buttoned up with a blazer thrown over top. It was decently formal, for him. His hair was different, but still strange somehow. He had grown out and cut off all the blond and parted it. But he had shaved the part in his hair such that it was oddly wide. He had a sort of bald strip down the left side of his head. He also had the sides shaved, but not in a fade. No, he just had hair beginning abruptly just above his ears. Saiki somehow felt like this was a downgrade to the way Nendou had worn his hair in high school. At least his scraggly facial hair was the same.
The oaf’s head spun as if on a swivel until his eyes landed on Saiki.
Goof grief, Saiki sighed internally. There goes any hope of slipping out of here unnoticed.
Nendou proceeded to talk Saiki’s ear off for the next forty five minutes, filling him in on all the details of his life for the last fifteen years. It sounded like life had been kind to Nendou. He’d spent a few years after high school doing mixed martial arts for money. In the process, he met his wife, quit fighting, found a factory job, and had five kids. He showed Saiki a picture of the woman he married and Saiki managed not to gag, so that was a win.
Nendou got distracted when he found out that there was an open bar and finally left Saiki to finish his eighth cup of coffee in peace. Maybe now he’d be able to make his escape. Some other people had already made excuses to leave–small children at home, pets that needed tending to, early starts the next morning, etc. So, Saiki would not be perceived as rude and his mother would be happy that he made an attempt at socialization. Being in his thirties didn’t stop her doting.
As he pushed the door to leave, he ran into someone on the other side. The cacophony of thoughts inside the venue dampened the voices of those outside, and he’d been rubbing his eyes so he didn’t see with his x-ray vision. A very human mistake for a psychic.
“Sorry,” he said, his eyes now on the pavement.
“Kusuo?” the person said, voice chirpy and familiar.
He looked up. It was Aiura. He quickly surveyed her outfit and assessed that she was as flashy and tacky as ever. Something about it comforted him.
Her eyes glossed over. “I was afraid I’d miss you,” she said.
He briefly wondered how she even knew he’d be there, then he remembered that she was a clairvoyant, obviously. “I was just leaving,” he said. But there was something about her expression that made him think he should maybe stay. Just a little while longer. “But actually, I think I need another coffee.”
She smiled and a feeling tugged at his chest again, like a thread was tethering him to her. Something about her was compelling him, and he wanted to figure out what it was.
As he followed her back inside and to the bar, it nettled him. Why was seeing her, above anyone else, making him feel nostalgic? By all accounts, Aiura wasn’t even his closest friend from high school. The only thing that made her different was her constant assertion that they were soulmates. Then it hit him again how lonely the past fifteen years had been. Maybe that’s what was compelling him? Maybe somewhere deep inside himself, he had been wondering all these years if she had been right and that’s why his life had felt so empty.
“How’ve ya been?” she asked him without warning, turning to face him with an icy drink in her hand.
He shook his head. “What about you?”
With one wince, he knew the answer. She’d been about like he had. As she started to explain herself, it became clear that it hadn’t been for lack of trying, on her part. Failed relationships, flaky, fair weather friends, a job that wasn’t really going anywhere (I mean, like, what kind of career advancement is there for fortune tellers, you know?). But she had stayed optimistic for all those years, knowing that luck comes in waves and eventually it would be her turn to ride one. “The truth is that I wasn’t even planning to come here tonight,” she said, at the conclusion of the abridged version of the last fifteen years of her life story. “But I saw that you were coming and I just had to…” She trailed off, embarrassment halting her words but not her thoughts.
She wanted to come to see if maybe, after all these years, Saiki was still her soulmate. It was not the most hopeful of prospects, even if he was, of course. He’d rebuffed her back in high school, he was capable of rebuffing her again. It’s not as though she should have expected things to be any different after all these years. If anything, her chances would be worse, right? They’d not seen each other in over a decade. Any warmth he felt toward her as teenagers had surely cooled by now.
So why was Saiki feeling pangs of regret all of a sudden? Why was his heart pounding so loudly in his ears? What was keeping him there, tied to her and that conversation?
That night, when Saiki finally left the high school reunion, he didn’t leave alone.