Chapter 134: Volume End The Summer That Will Eventually Come
Twenty years ago, Shizuoka Prefecture Hamamatsu City.
The warm, cool evening sunlight filtered through the gaps in the green shade, licking the surface of the rough stone platform at the train station.
The railroad tracks, marked by traces of time, trembled, indicating that the timetable was not delayed and that the next train was approaching.
“Ye Chun? Ye Chun? Hey, Ye Chun!”
The voice, which seemed long buried in distant memories, kept echoing in her ears, bringing the dazed girl back to her senses.
Ye Chun blinked and looked at the girl in school uniform beside her.
She touched the hair on her forehead and gave an embarrassed smile: “Sorry… Nishino-chan, I probably stayed up too late reading manga last night and accidentally fell asleep.”
“Eh? You can fall asleep standing up? Ye Chun, you’re really amazing—doesn’t standing so far forward make it dangerous?”
But Nishino didn’t pay much attention to such a small thing. She leaned in and asked curiously: “What manga made you stay up so late? Recommend it!”
So Ye Chun smiled and chatted with her classmate who was heading home after school about the currently serializing mainstream manga.
The manga’s plot was great, the artwork exquisite, and crucially, she still had several collected volumes left unread, so she could continue adventuring with the protagonist after getting home tonight.
Chatting with Nishino, who could easily read the atmosphere, was also relaxing.
And tomorrow was a holiday during Golden Week, so she could sleep until the afternoon after staying up late, and there wouldn’t be any teacher calling them to school to help with the school festival anymore.
But Ye Chun always felt something was off.
Something very important had been accidentally forgotten by her.
Just like in a dream—clearly feeling like she had gone through so much, but after waking up, she remembered nothing, and even the last shred of recollection would be quickly crushed by the chaotic rush of daily life.
Like sand slipping through her fingers, no matter how hard she gripped, she couldn’t change the outcome of it all flowing away.
Boarding the clanging train, Ye Chun placed her hands on her lap covered by her long skirt, quietly gazing at the golden-red sky.
“Nishino-chan.” Ye Chun suddenly spoke up, the short-haired girl grasping her classmate’s hand tightly and saying earnestly, “I keep feeling like I’ve forgotten something important.”
“I get it, I get it~ I feel that way sometimes too!”
Nishino Ayaka circled her other hand in the air, putting on a serious expression: “As expected, stand users attract each other!”
Ye Chun watched Nishino Ayaka strike a pose from the manga JOJO and knew she wasn’t taking her words seriously.
But that was normal.
At their age, plus liking manga, they were a prime group for chūnibyō, always inexplicably fantasizing about things that didn’t exist in reality.
Things like superpowers with varying effects, forgotten and buried historical pasts, yokai exorcist supernatural phenomena, and the like.
These hot-blooded, mainstream fantasy stories could easily tug at the heartstrings of boys and girls like them.
And every teen who had read these stories had fantasized more than once about being the protagonist, with a dormant bloodline or ability.
But in reality, where would such things exist?
Ye Chun, who loved reading manga, understood this best.
But…
She murmured: “This time is different.”
Though she couldn’t say what was different, her intensely strong intuition told her so.
And before this, her intuition had never been wrong—whether it was multiple-choice questions on exams or deciding whether to buy a manga book.
After bidding farewell to Nishino Ayaka, who got off two stations before her home, Ye Chun rarely sat up straight.
She clenched her fists, closed her eyes, furrowed her brows, and racked her brain with all her strength, scouring every nook and cranny of her neural pathways for the slightest memory.
Ye Chun even backtracked from today to the night she wet the bed at three years old and got scolded by her woken parents.
But nothing connected to what she had forgotten.
Not a single one.
These things were all too normal, too ordinary to even enter her dreams.
Ye Chun had long grown accustomed to these things that happened every day, every week, every month, every year.
Ding ding ding.
The sound of the train arriving at the station suddenly rang out, making the girl tremble all over.
She opened her eyes to see the old platform not far from home, unchanged for years.
Utterly unremarkable.
Ye Chun walked out of the train somewhat puzzled, circling the rundown little station several times, finding nothing unusual.
Until the “ding ding ding” sounded again.
Ye Chun’s heart tightened, and she whipped around to see the end of the old train gradually receding.
An indescribable sense of relief welled up from the bottom of her heart.
“The train…”
She blinked, thinking uncertainly in her heart: “What I forgot is related to the train?”
Ye Chun took out her flip phone from her small bag and walked toward home while holding it.
In 2004, if not for the lack of so many cars on big city streets—mostly bikes coming and going—and especially since Ye Chun lived in a remote part of Hamamatsu City.
Living in such a rural area, Ye Chun naturally didn’t have the habit of “not looking at your phone while walking.”
She would at most put it down when crossing the street, then pick it up again otherwise.
—Even if not searching for supernatural events related to “trains” like today, she would browse 2ch or check manga news.
But even after reaching her doorstep as the sun nearly set completely, Ye Chun still found no useful information.
Searching for “train”-related terms brought up discussions and trivia from train enthusiasts and fact-checkers on forums about active and retired trains, plus related Q&A threads.
Though it was nice that 2ch had this knowledge, it wasn’t what Ye Chun was looking for.
“Sigh.”
With a sigh, Ye Chun took out her key, unlocked the front door, entered the entrance hall, and called out while taking off her shoes: “I’m home.”
No response.
The girl’s nose twitched, catching the aroma of steaming meal, along with the daily news broadcast and stir-frying sounds flooding into the entrance hall toward her ears.
She waited a bit more, but not even a “welcome home” from her younger brother.
“As expected from a real younger brother…”
Ye Chun clicked her tongue in annoyance, having every reason to believe the guy was now leaning on her bed reading the manga she bought.
Sure enough, as soon as she reached the living room, her mom’s voice came from the bustling kitchen: “Xiao Chun, dinner’s almost ready! Go call your younger brother down from upstairs to eat!”
“Okay, okay…”
Ye Chun waved her hand, went up the stairs in her big slippers, and twisted open her own room door without knocking.
Why not knock?
Joke—this was her own room; why knock to enter?
As for what might happen without knocking… Ye Chun figured as long as she wasn’t embarrassed, it was her little brother who would be.
But this time, nothing embarrassing happened.
She peeked at the manga book in her little brother’s hands and hummed noncommittally.
Ye Chun gave a half-thumbs-up, then slammed it down: “Death Note is great, but didn’t I say—!”
With a weird yell, Ye Chun grabbed her little brother’s cheeks and tugged hard: “How many times have I said no eating cookie snacks in my room! Are you deaf!!!”
“Big sis, I was wrong, sorry—!”
The two goofed around playfully in the room.
Until mom’s calling voice climbed up the stairs again, Ye Chun reluctantly let go, staring at her little brother rubbing his red cheeks, raising a fist not even half a sandbag big,
“Next time you do this, I’ll summon Star Platinum and give you a good ora ora beating, got it, you punk!”
The boy in casual shirt stood up shakily: “Big sis, are you some hidden yakuza elder sister? Your tongue snap is so proficient?”
Ye Chun naturally couldn’t say it was the product of her fantasizing about being the boss of the entire Yamaguchi-gumi.
So she shrugged: “Just a tongue snap; anyone can do it casually.”
“What a shame.” The boy sighed. “I was thinking if you needed it, I could join as wakagashira and unify all of Japan’s yakuza with you.”
He flexed his nonexistent muscle lines on his arm: “Heh heh, this is muscle armor only visible to superpowered beings like me!”
A thick wave of chūnibyō aura hit her, making Ye Chun’s scalp tingle—her little brother was in second year of middle school, so no wonder his chūnibyō was flaring up so strongly.
Can’t deal with it, can’t deal.
As Ye Chun was about to go downstairs, she heard the sound of the manga book closing along with a question,
“Hey, big sis.”
Her younger brother asked: “If one day you really picked up a supernatural item like Death Note, what would you do? Punish evil and promote good like the protagonist in the manga, or hand it over to the police?”
Ye Chun asked offhandedly without turning: “Did you pick one up?”
She didn’t notice the brief unnatural look on the boy behind her, just descended the stairs while stroking her chin in thought for a while.
Then she raised a finger: “If it were me, I’d definitely keep it for myself.”
Ye Chun finally turned back, seriously saying: “Even without punishing evil, just using it to make money could let us get a bigger house, buy more manga books, send you to a better university, let mom and dad retire earlier.”
The boy sighed: “Big sis, you have no ambition. Normally, don’t people want to change the world?”
“That’s just who I am.” Ye Chun crossed her arms, unashamedly thumbing at herself: “The so-called generation of worthless ‘otaku,’ that’s me!”
“Gotcha…”
As the boy passed by Ye Chun listlessly, he said: “Then I’d definitely do all that stuff first before changing the world.”
“More than that, little brother, you should think about how to catch up during winter break cram school.”
Ye Chun put her arm around him as they went downstairs: “Otherwise, if you go to a crappy school, even with superpowers, you can’t date the school’s beautiful girls~”
“Is that so?” The boy showed a determined look for an instant.
“Would big sis lie to you!” Ye Chun coaxed patiently. “Good schools might not have cute beautiful girls, but the worst schools definitely don’t.”
So the boy nodded vigorously: “Then I’ll study.”
Huh?
Did the sun rise from the west? Did two moons rise in the sky?
Ye Chun blinked, not understanding why her always-failed studying pep talk suddenly worked on this unremarkable evening.
Recalling the earlier question… Could it be her little brother really picked up some supernatural item?
No no no, impossible.
At that thought, Ye Chun suddenly understood how Nishino Ayaka had seen her earlier.
I see.
Ye Chun and her little brother went downstairs to the living room as usual, got lectured by mom, sat at the dinner table, said “itadakimasu,” and dug in.
As if afraid the other would steal her food.
Full and satisfied, with no homework bothering her during Golden Week, Ye Chun returned to her room, changed into thin pajamas, and voraciously read manga.
As for her little brother, she tossed the manga at him and told him to get back to his room to read it.
Ye Chun propped her chin with her hand and read straight until nearly midnight—the manga’s plot was too captivating, making her forget all about the train matter.
But 2004 wasn’t like 2024; not many people stayed up past midnight that year.
At least Ye Chun didn’t.
Reluctantly setting aside the half-read manga, Ye Chun ended a day no different from her past holidays.
Next up, wash up and sleep.
Thinking that, Ye Chun got up from her soft, warm bed to close the gap in the curtains.
But as she reached the window, Ye Chun suddenly noticed a model-like small ornament on the windowsill.
Looking closely, she saw it was a model of a train station.
The station sign clearly read four words—【Kisaragi Station】.
“Kisaragi Station…”
Ye Chun pulled back the curtain and stared fixedly at this inexplicably appeared, yet ordinary-looking small ornament.
Her intuition told her—reaching out to touch it now would be a life-changing act.
Ye Chun had never felt her heart pound as fast as this moment; it was like it would leap out of her chest any second.
So, should she reach out?
—But before that question, she should first ask if she’s satisfied with her current life.
Ye Chun looked down, deep in thought.
Then the girl arrived at an answer.
—Undoubtedly, satisfied.
Her parents had a harmonious relationship with no major health issues; mom would buy or cook whatever she wanted to eat, dad would sneak her money for purchases and tell her not to let mom know.
Her little brother at home was a bit chūnibyō but definitely a good person.
No best friends at school, but plenty to chat endlessly with, let alone any legendary bullying.
Ye Chun felt her life so far, though not that of an all-around winner, was absolutely happy.
—So, should she reach out?
Gazing at the “Kisaragi Station” small ornament on the windowsill, Ye Chun silently swallowed and slowly raised her hand, hovering in midair.
Then, with prepared resolve and awareness, without the slightest hesitation, she grasped the Kisaragi Station ornament.
Because if she hesitated or overthought any longer, Ye Chun knew she’d abandon this once-in-a-lifetime fantastical chance for her current ordinary joyful life.
That way, though happy as now, she’d absolutely regret it.
Ye Chun didn’t want to regret.
So the instant her fingertips touched Kisaragi Station, Ye Chun felt something deep in her memories shatter with a snap.
Then, the memories of her “being sent back to today twenty years ago” unfolded bit by bit, telling her exactly what she had forgotten before.
And the next instant, vast memories unspooled like film before Ye Chun’s eyes, awaiting her review.
Along with it came full ownership and usage rights of the “Kisaragi Station” supernatural phenomenon.
—After dying at Kisaragi Station, Ye Chun inherited everything about it; that was their relationship.
“Shangshan Jun… I’m back.”
Ye Chun murmured silently, recalling the last instant of driving her SUV out of the tunnel, then looking around the stranger-yet-familiar room setup, unable to hold back tears.
The girl hugged the station model and collapsed to the floor.
She opened her mouth wide and sobbed soundlessly.
Tears fell like rain into the mild early summer moonlight.
May 5, 2004, Beginning of Summer.
That year, Ye Chun was eighteen.
Her eighteenth summer,
began.
—Volume 2 · The Inevitable Summer · End—
