《The Story of Unforgettable Witch》 Volume 1 - Prologue ¡°It¡¯s a secret to everyone else, but when I grow up¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to be a witch.¡± ¡°How did it feel, when we called each other by name?¡± ¡°My heart throbbed.¡± ¡°Hey, what kind of feeling?¡± ¡°The same feeling as you, Michiru. I¡¯m sure.¡± Prologue: Spring Happenings Spring, my first year of high school. That was when the first friend I ever had made claimed to be a witch. She was wearing our school¡¯s blazer, and no matter how you looked at it she seemed like nothing more than an ordinary person. She was in fact wearing neither a pointy hat nor a black robe, and didn¡¯t have a broom or a wand either. ¡°I¡¯m going to become a witch in the future.¡± ¡°Huh¡­¡± Normally I would have dismissed it as a joke, but there was a certain power to her words. A spell. Idly letting the noises made in our classroom during lunchtime drift by me, I tried searching her eyes. They didn¡¯t look like she was joking or trying to trick me. ¡°By the way, since you said ¡®in the future¡¯, that means you can¡¯t use magic right now¡­ right?¡± ¡°Yeah. But I know what the weather will be like this afternoon.¡± She then tried making a prediction: there would be passing showers starting this evening. And she was right. ¡°Maybe you could guess based on the humidity.¡± ¡°No¡­ I can¡¯t explain it very well, but if I have to say I¡¯d probably call it deja vu.¡± Faced with her vague laughter, a small hope grew within me. Maybe this girl also knows that today is being repeated. The Sixth of April A The first day of a new semester. The kind of day where cold winds blow past your feet. Blazer and skirt, neither with even a single speck of dust on them. A starched shirt. I was wearing my new uniform. I trembled from the sensation of everything being new. I was obediently sitting on my chair in a new classroom. Let my chest be filled with both hopes and worries about my soon to begin life as a high school student. The entrance ceremony was yet to start. My heart pounded quietly as I strained my ears, trying to pick up the voices of classmates whose names I didn¡¯t even know yet. Doing so, I was able to hear a set of footsteps. Approaching the fickle and unorganized atmosphere that filled the classroom. Probably a teacher. Soon we¡¯ll move to the gym and the entrance ceremony will begin, was what I was thinking as I felt a slight discomfort at the approaching footsteps. Tap, tap, tap. The sound of slippers and the hallway greeting each other. It sounded too hurried to have been a teacher. In that case¡­ A girl came rushing in through the still open door. She dominated the attention of everyone in the classroom, her two shoulder-length braids still vigorously bouncing up and down. The classmates she passed at the door were left stunned. Boldly ignoring the relentless gazes thrown at her from all over the classroom, she happened to put down a lightweight-looking backpack on the seat right in front of me. ¡°Hey, did I make it in time¡­ to the entrance ceremony? Or has it already ended?¡± The first time I heard her voice still remains inside my chest. ¡°¡­No.¡± Hiding the uncertainty inside me, I took out a double-sided flyer adorned by the title ¡°entrance ceremony guidebook¡± from my bag and handed it over. The schedule for our first day was printed on it. Since it was mailed to our homes along with official school documents I would have expected her to have one too though. ¡°Thanks. I forgot mine. I kind of left it back at home, somewhere near the door.¡± Her pleasant voice left an impression that I¡¯m sure even someone that wasn¡¯t me would not be able to forget after hearing it just once. I looked around the classroom, and just as I thought the two of us had managed to draw quite a bit of attention. Any classmates whose eyes I met quickly glanced away, but the once disrupted atmosphere of the classroom couldn¡¯t easily go back to the way it had been. ¡°Ah, I should probably introduce myself.¡± Not caring in the slightest about said unruly atmosphere, she turned to face me with her whole body. ¡°I¡¯m Inaba Michiru. Nice to meet you!¡± Her unparalleled smile left me dumbfounded. Perhaps this will sound a bit cliche, but it was as if time had stopped for a moment. Like if someone had used magic. Three or four cherry blossom petals, carried up by the spring winds, flew into the classroom. Their dance broke and carried away the illusion of time having stopped. ¡°I¡­¡± Just giving my own name felt more embarrassing than it had any right to be. I¡¯ll just say that I¡¯m not a shy person. But in front of her, in front of Inaba-san, for some reason I couldn¡¯t speak properly. The atmosphere the new semester had brought with it was probably to blame, or something. I decided to leave it at that. ¡°A-Aizawa Ayaka¡­ greetings.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± In contrast to me having trouble squeezing out even a single groaned word, Inaba-san let out an unconcerned laugh. ¡°What are you reading?¡± Inaba-san discovered the book I was holding. It would probably have been fine to just tell her normally, but instead I silently closed the book and showed her the cover. The cover is the face of a book. So if she was interested, maybe it wasn¡¯t the name she wanted to see, but the face. That was the kind of weird thinking that grazed my head. ¡°Inaba-san, do you read?¡± I brought it up figuring it could be an opportunity to start a conversation, but¡­ ¡°No, not at all.¡± ¡°I see.¡± And that was where I would have expected the conversation to end. At least I didn¡¯t have even the slightest interest in continuing to talk. Not because I wanted to continue reading¡­ ¡­but because there was a reason I couldn¡¯t make friends. Not because I was sickly or because of household circumstances or anything like that. I had a very different reason. So the only reason the conversation continued was simply that Inaba-san didn¡¯t let me go. ¡°Do you know what club you¡¯ll be joining?¡± The answer had already been decided long ago. Whatever club it may be, I didn¡¯t at all think I¡¯d be able get along with the other people in it. ¡°Worrying about it?¡± That was why I hadn¡¯t been planning to enter any clubs, but I didn¡¯t exactly want to be thought of as an unmotivated and boring person either¡­ I thought something like that, that I normally wouldn¡¯t have. ¡°What about you, Inaba-san?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll pick the same as you.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°I think is where you¡¯re supposed to butt in with ¡®what are we, best friends or something?¡¯¡± She was even telling jokes. It was just like talking with me in itself was Inaba-san¡¯s only goal. That¡¯s the kind of feeling the friendly smile on her face conveyed. I hadn¡¯t met any people like that before. Not even one. That was why I had no idea how to respond. ¡°Why do you care about me?¡± I didn¡¯t think we would get along. Since it was our first day of high school and all, why not just go find some people more similar to yourself? ¡°Umm¡­ I don¡¯t really have a reason, but if I have to say something it feels like we would get along, maybe. Sorry for interrupting your reading.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t say you were in the way or anything though.¡± ¡°I see, let¡¯s talk more then!¡± But back then I already felt something. A feeling that maybe should be called comfort, a feeling of harmony. Even if we had different hobbies and joined different clubs, just finding a person it was vaguely fun just to be with, I thought that kind of person would be special. Or maybe I was just beautifying friendship too much. This was the story of the sixth of April A. I wonder what will happen tomorrow. Holding on to just a single shred of hope, I welcomed the next day. The Sixth of April B After the sixth of April A, comes the sixth of April B. Just as expected I was once again sitting in my seat and waiting for the entrance ceremony to start. The atmosphere that accompanied the first day of school was slightly unruly. Classmates I knew the names of were building new friendships. I didn¡¯t feel anxious or hopeful. I just felt alienated. The alienation of not getting to feel anything new. Since it was the second time around there wasn¡¯t really much that could be done about it though. The world repeats itself. Exactly as if drawing a picture. Just as if we¡¯re being redrawn, the world repeats itself. Drawing multiple sketches, drawing, drawing, drawing a new sketch again, then drawing a clean version of your favourite sketch only. Just like that, the world kept repeating the same day. Repeating, repeating, repeating. I don¡¯t know by who, but until a single day gets ¡°chosen¡± and becomes ¡°yesterday¡±. The ¡°yesterday¡± that people usually can remember is just the single day that gets chosen. But I couldn¡¯t forget. I didn¡¯t know how long the world had been like this. It was already that way when I was born. If I closed my eyes, I could remember. The first time I was greeted by light, when my underdeveloped baby brain for the first time managed to make out the outlines of the world around me. No matter how old the memory may be, I could remember it just as precisely as I could what I had for dinner yesterday. That was my memory. I couldn¡¯t forget. No matter how small it may be, I couldn¡¯t forget even the smallest detail. Even the multiple days that existed on the backside of our world, all labeled with the same date yet all different, were no exception. People are creatures that forget. Even the most precious of memories get overwritten by new ones, dimming them without anyone realising. No matter how preciously they get stored, no matter how fervently someone tries to remember, memories slowly get worn away as time passes, finally disappearing completely. Today¡¯s Inaba-san, who I wouldn¡¯t expect to know anything about ¡°yesterday¡±, once again started talking to me. With a smile that was hard to discern from the one in my memories. ¡°Do you know what club you¡¯ll be joining?¡± ¡°The going-home club.¡± Just like this, each date comes several times. Just like a sketch being redrawn. And when that happens we become strangers once more. Having made no promise to meet again. Volume 1 - CH 1 Chapter 1: Five-minute Four-day Deja-vu The Seventh of April A The entrance ceremony was yesterday. I was happy I only had to experience it thrice. Each day usually repeated about five times, which meant three was less than average. By the way, I had to start middle school seven times. It had gone past boredom and started feeling like hell. But the high school I entered this spring, Konohana High School, had a principal who was quite the upstanding person. Recommended for his large amount of experience, he had learned that long, long speeches usually were not met with great reception by students. Had talked about how he was well aware that the contents of the speech would be flushed down the toilet by the morning of the day after tomorrow, along with anything we may have eaten during the day of the ceremony. I thought that the guests of honour should have learned from the principal. Their speeches had been far too long for safe exposure to humankind. As for other things I would want to mention, there was only one. ¡°I¡¯m Inaba Michiru. Nice to meet you!¡± I got acquainted with Inaba-san three times out of three. That kind of thing has never happened before. If I got acquainted with someone, what normally would have happened is that the day we got closer wouldn¡¯t have gotten chosen, and we would have gone back to being total strangers. But if we spoke on three days out of three, it didn¡¯t matter which day got chosen. The next day we could talk as if already acquainted. At least I didn¡¯t have to pretend I didn¡¯t know her. Inaba-san was the girl that sat in the seat in front of me, and with her double-braided hair it was also safe to say she was very cute. With me being an Aizawa, I was first on the attendance list. So somehow I was seated at the very back, right next to the window. What a weird seating system. As for Inaba-san, I would say that she maybe came across as slightly mysterious. I didn¡¯t get tired of looking at her. ¡°When I had about ten minutes left to school I realised I had left home without bringing my lunch. Oh, because I ate school meals until middle school.¡± It was during our break, and Inaba-san¡¯s stomach was making cute noises. It was the second day of the new semester, but when it came to Inaba-san, I already had quite a bit of advance knowledge. Things like which middle school she went to, things like which clubs she wanted to go take a look at, things like that the deciding factor for which high school she was going to go to had ended up being the cuteness of the uniform, things like stories about the dreams she had dreamed yesterday, things like that the first time she went to school by train had felt fresh and fun. We had talked a lot ¡°yesterday¡±. ¡°If onigiri or sweet bread is fine, you can just buy something at the school store on the second floor though¡­¡± But, I had to act like I didn¡¯t know about any of it. Suggesting something like ¡°Couldn¡¯t you have bought something at the convenience store near the train station?¡± was to be avoided even if my mouth was cut open. ¡°Ah, I see! I¡¯ll try going there when it¡¯s time for lunch.¡± The time Inaba-san told me about commuting to school was the sixth of April C, so until I could be absolutely certain that day had been chosen I had to pretend I didn¡¯t know. By the way, if the sixth of April A had been chosen I could easily have known because a guard rail on the way to school would have been really bent. On the other hand telling apart B and C would have been rather difficult. Other than what we talked about almost everything had happened exactly the same way. It felt like the wise choice would be to wait for Inaba-san to say something, without bringing it up myself. Even if the likelihood of that happening was low. And that¡¯s about how far I had had time to think while passing the unbroken guard rail on the way to school. ¡°Maybe it would be a good idea to keep some change in your passport case if something like this happens again in the future?¡± ¡°Oh, that does sound nice.¡± ¡°Though I¡¯m guessing you just got carried away because taking the train to school felt too excit¡­¡± A slip of the tongue. Brought about by our conversation, no doubt about it. It turns out I was the one getting carried away. ¡°Wait, how did you know that? And here I was just planning to talk about it¡­ Hmm?¡± Inaba-san tilted her head, seemingly confused. It was already too late for regrets. There was no way to put back words that already had left my mouth. Probably shouldn¡¯t have said that. Based on the reaction I was getting, I could at least conjecture that the sixth of April B had been chosen. And she must definitely have thought I was weird after that. My heart was ringing like an alarm bell blood pounding in my ears, and I felt like I would start to sweat at any moment. Please just go away, this one day. Like you never existed. While praying that today wouldn¡¯t get ¡°chosen¡±, I hastily fumbled out an excuse. ¡°Eh, uhm, I saw you come walking from the direction the station is in this morning, so then I thought that you maybe might be commuting to school.¡± I turned away slightly while speaking. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to meet her eyes. Inside my heart, I gave a silent vow. Starting tomorrow, I would always make sure to give myself some kind of landmark. If anything I should probably have started doing that earlier. Whether it be the position of my favourite cup, which page numbers I put a bookmark between, or which way a potted plant was facing. Anything would do. ¡°I see, so you saw me. That¡¯s kind of embarrassing, maybe.¡± Even though it had been nothing but a shameless lie, Inaba-san really did give me some embarrassed laughter in response. It was really cute. ¡°Aizawa-san, do you also take the train?¡± About half of the students at Konohana high school came there by bicycle, with the other half being pretty evenly split between buses and trains. A lot of people commuted from the surrounding area. In that regard, Inaba-san¡¯s guess was actually pretty good. ¡°I walk.¡± ¡°You walk? Does that mean you live nearby?¡± She looked at me as if I was a protected species. My very reason for applying to this school had been that it was within walking distance. ¡°I live on my own about a thirty minute walk from here. Something like that basically sums it up.¡± ¡°You live on your own?¡± Inaba-san¡¯s eyes opened up wide in an exaggerated motion of surprise. Maybe she could be called a girl with an abundance of emotions, or maybe just a girl who was prone to overreact. But while it probably had been a different matter if I had been a university student, leaving home as a high school student was also actually pretty rare. ¡°My parents are big advocates of letting children take their own responsibility.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that a bit too much responsibility?¡± Well, in a way it kind of actually was. Maybe you could say there was some hate involved, or maybe saying I was being hated was more accurate. ¡°Amazing! I can¡¯t even cook on my own or anything. Hey, would it be okay if I came over sometime?¡± ¡°I guess I don¡¯t mind¡­¡± It was kind of a bit too big of a catch. I would never have thought that casting myself out in this high school would have led to meeting someone so interested in getting to know me. That was why this rapid approach from the first friend I ever had made left my heart unable to remain completely calm. An unexpected blessing, a stroke of unexpected luck. That was what it felt like. Of course, that probably meant that today would end up going away! The Seventh of April D Counting this time, I had now experienced the seventh of April four times. On average, I lived through each day five times in a row. On the seventh of April, Inaba-san managed to arrive just barely on time four days in a row. Each time sliding into the clasroom in a rather artistic manner. Exactly the same thing happening four days in a row was, in reality, rather rare. For a species so at the mercy of their own whims as humanity, even actions that at first looked the same would usually slowly begin to diverge. Perhaps whatever made Inaba-san late happened first thing this morning. Like if she was watching some tv show that only got broadcast in the middle of the night and she was tired from staying up late every night, or something like that. Since I was unable to stay up during that time frame there was no way to confirm though. I couldn¡¯t stay awake between ten in the evening and two in the morning. I could get up as early as two in the morning though, but whatever I did I just couldn¡¯t stay awake until the date changed. I hadn¡¯t been able to do so even a single time. While I was talking about it anyway, in my opinion there was no other machine as unfriendly as the tv. The same shows just kept being broadcast over and over, showing people making the same calm faces acting as if nothing was up, as if it all had been meticulously measured with a ruler¡­ I hated it. Anyway, during the usual lunch break. ¡°It wasn¡¯t until I was a mere ten minutes away from school that I realised I had left my lunch at home¡­¡± Today I had come prepared. In a change of plans, instead of bringing a lunchbox made up of leftovers, I had made sandwiches and brought them with me. Perhaps it would have been nice to just make lunch for Inaba-san too, but I got the feeling doing so would have gone beyond being perfectly prepared and into just coming across as suspicious. ¨C A lunchbox just two days after we met? What¡¯s up with that? ¨C Or rather, how did you know I forgot my lunch? Are you stalking me or what? ¡­Disgusting. Aaaah¡­ just thinking about how Inaba-san could have reacted was scary enough. With me being a bit weird and all, I sometimes felt like I was starting to lose track of what normal people would find acceptable. ¡°I brought sandwiches for lunch today, so do you want one too, Inaba-san?¡± If I may say so myself, I think I brought it up rather naturally. I opened up my lunchbox and lined up a set of wrapped sandwiches on my desk. With that Inaba-san raised her head and burst out a bright smile. ¡°A-are you sure?¡± ¡°Go ahead.¡± ¡°But, aren¡¯t there a few too many? Were you planning on sharing with your boyfriend or something?¡± ¡°B-boyfriend? W-what? Why?¡± ¡°Exactly, my dear Watson. Heh, heh, heh. Because you¡¯re cute, Aizawa-san! And aside from that, that¡¯s a few sandwiches too many for one person.¡± In my opinion, Inaba-san was the cuter one out of the two of us though, showing off her acting skills at the same time as she exposed her reasoning. Even if the deduction she had been guided to missed the mark completely. ¡°I don¡¯t have anyone like that, so don¡¯t worry about it. Just take some.¡± I had never had such a person either. Love wasn¡¯t the kind of thing I would be expecting to be able to pull off. With me experiencing each day five times and everyone else only remembering one of those, forging such a deep relationship with someone would probably be impossible. ¡°Are you sure? You really don¡¯t mind?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t. I just made them out of leftovers, so that¡¯s why I ended up with a few more than planned.¡± ¡°Oh, so that was why. In that case¡­¡± After hesitating for just one more moment, Inaba-san gave in to her empty stomach. ¡°¡­I-I¡¯ll owe you one.¡± Facing each other, we both stretched our hands out for sandwiches. Letting out the tension from my chest with a sigh of relief, I thought about Inaba-san. She had called me cute.. Aaaaa. AAAAAaaaaahhh! While trying to calm down my violently beating heart, I kept my eyes on Inaba-san as she pecked at a sandwich. ¡°What¡¯s this? It¡¯s tasty. Crispy and crunchy and tasty.¡± ¡°It¡¯s enoki¡±. Mushrooms that had been fried and become sandwich ingredients, changing their texture and letting them serve their assigned duty well. ¡°Enochicoccus?¡± Those are parasites, you know. And even then, the parasites are called Echinococcus. Could give rise to a scary parasitic disease, by transmission through red foxes in Hokkaido. ¡°No, not those.¡± ¡°Enoki aren¡¯t some kind of chestnut-coloured mushroom?¡± ¡°If you look at pictures of wild ones they do have that colour and look like normal mushrooms, but when cultivated artificially they¡¯re pure white and grow in an oblong fashion similarly to horsetail.¡± Without actually having been asked to, I turned into ms. encyclopedia and began to explain. Inaba-san stared at me with glowing eyes. I was overwhelmed by the light in those eyes. What is this girl even¡­ just, what. Somehow able to look at someone as abnormal as myself with such a pure gaze. That was totally different from everything I had experienced before. If it had been like in the past I would have expected to see a much less pleasant gaze, filled with things like contempt, disgust, and fear. Was it okay for me to get friendly with her? Considering how we on average would be unable to fully share four out of five days¡­ considering how I was the only one that could remember and Inaba-san was destined to forget. While I still was discomposed on the inside, I returned my attention to the meal. ¡°You haven¡¯t eaten enoki mushrooms before?¡± ¡°Yeah. They don¡¯t get served at my place. I think my dad probably doesn¡¯t like them.¡± There were probably a lot of cases of the dinner menu being influenced by one¡¯s parents¡¯ likes and dislikes. Personally I couldn¡¯t remember ever eating shrimp at home. My father was allergic to shrimp. Otherwise my mother was also no fan of wheat gluten, so I had gotten to learn the taste of it for the first time after I started cooking for myself. Even now, my breakfasts tended to involve a lot of bread. If you were to trace that habit back to its roots, it was because the usual breakfast menu back when I lived with my parents had a lot of bread in it¡­ ¡­we spoke about stuff like that and before we knew it lunch was already over. By the way, the total amount of bread I have eaten in my life is 21667 slices. *** A child that could speak as well as an adult at the age of three, and whose first and second rebellious phases came simultaneously, making for an annoying double-booking. That was me. A child that was made to go to preschool at four years of age, but showed no interest in anything except books and the printed word. A child that was easy to take care of because she refused to mingle with anyone and never got into fights. That was me. Even if I had been raised almost exclusively together with people that were one year older than me due to how I was born in March, there was also how I only got to see the rise of a new day one time out of five. On the inside I was aging five times as fast as everyone else. So my mental age was always higher than everyone else¡¯s. There was no way I could have done anything as idiotic as to start a fight with a kindergartener. Even less so try to become friends. For someone with the body of a child but the mind of an adult, preschool was the worst. I would have my books snatched right out of my hands, and if I tried to spread out drawing paper I would no doubt get it robbed away. I was powerless, lacking even a single means of resistance. I didn¡¯t have particularly fond memories of my early childhood, especially outside of my own home. Home had become my shelter. When I was at home with my parents and our pet cat, I could feel at ease. There were also times when we went to zoos and aquariums. No matter how long I looked at the various animals and sea creatures I didn¡¯t get tired of it ¡ª because I couldn¡¯t guess what they were going to do next. Happy memories from my youth. But there were also misunderstandings that lead to a lot of unhappiness. One of those happened when I was six years old. During spring, the morning of a day when we were going to go look at cherry blossoms. I was making lunch together with my mother. ¡°Ayaka! Didn¡¯t I tell you that you aren¡¯t allowed to use the kitchen knife?¡± ¡°Uh¡± It was sudden. And was it really something to get so upset over, was what I thought while looking up at my mother¡¯s exasperated face. At the time I was in the process of cutting up sweetly fried tamagoyaki, shredding burdock, and cutting carrots into flowery shapes to use as decoration. ¡°You can use the kitchen knife after you get a little¡­¡± My mother¡¯s eyes stopped and her angry voice tapered out after she saw what was on top of the cutting board. ¡°¡­Where did you learn how to make something like this?¡± ¡°But you were the one that taught me, mom?¡± I prayed for her to remember. The day the two of us had been together in the kitchen and she had taught me had ended up vanishing. Her memories of it were gone. That we had had fun cooking together, that she had taught me how to make sweets. There was no trace remaining of it all once you went beyond my own fingertips. I didn¡¯t want to accept that. And that was why I didn¡¯t give in to reality. Even when I saw my own mother frozen in fear, I didn¡¯t manage to change how I felt. And while I remained ignorant of the weight of my sin¡­ ¡°Ayaka¡­ I¡¯ve already said this many times before, but lying is no good.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not lying.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you meant to say ¡®sorry¡¯, right?¡± To my parents I was an incurable pathological liar. At first they had told me ¡°you¡¯ll get your tongue pulled out¡±, then it had changed to ¡°you¡¯ll get taken by the police¡±, but as the years passed it eventually reached a point where they started doubting my humanity itself. ¡°I-¡± My cheeks got pulled right as I was about to return fire. Strangely enough it didn¡¯t hurt. I was more just surprised at the fact that my cheeks had been pulled in itself. I decided not to think about it beyond that. ¡°Lying with a straight face, not apologizing even after you did a bad thing¡­ only the very worst of people do that, you know.¡± My throat went dry in reaction to my mother¡¯s cold voice. I ignored the pain in my cheeks. I ignored the pain in my heart. It was all an illusion. I wanted to believe my mother loved me. At the time I already knew that the distance between the two of us only was growing. That much had already been made clear to me many times during the many repetitions I had experienced. Over and over, over and over and over and over I had asked, asked for understanding. But my parents didn¡¯t try to believe me. And no matter where you looked, there was no objective proof the same day was repeating itself. So they kept doubting their daughter¡¯s words. There was one single time I managed to convince my father to believe me, but that day ultimately vanished into nothing, not having been chosen. That was when I had decided to accept my own fate. In a world where each day kept being repeated whether you wanted it or not, it was so hard for a normal person and a person who didn¡¯t forget to understand each other that you may as well have called it impossible. Even being parent and child, we could not understand each other. The day I turned eight, my family¡¯s beloved persian cat died. She had been there from before when I was born and died peacefully at twenty years of age. A death as peaceful as if she had just fallen asleep. I was still sad and cried for a whole day. My parents kindly let me borrow their shoulders as we were sad about it together. The unfortunate part was that the day our cat died happened eight times in total. I was not a particularly cold-hearted person. But I also think that there are very few people so filled with emotions and water that they could cry their eyes out for eight days straight. I think my attitude made my mother angry. ¡°What are you even.¡± ¡°Mom¡­?¡± The death of our cat became the trigger for my mom to finally let out her pent-up anger in an explosive manner. Trying to imagine what was behind her seemingly apathetic daughter¡¯s attitude was too difficult for a mother still wailing in the pain of having lost her pet. ¡°Do you really not feel anything at all? Even though our cat just died?¡± What she needed was a daughter that cried at parting with her cat, someone she could share her sadness with. Not some cold-blooded girl who didn¡¯t even lift an eyebrow. But. ¡°You¡¯re wrong, mom. You¡¯re wrong. This is the eight time I live through ¡°today¡±, so I have already finished my farewells. I have been sad, and I have cried a lot, and-¡± I didn¡¯t care what anyone else thought. But my parents thinking of me as a cold-hearted person was the one thing I didn¡¯t want. I couldn¡¯t accept it. Why was I still struggling, even though I already had resigned myself to fate long ago. I still get surprised every time I think about it. ¡°Shut up!¡± I got to face the full consequences of going against my own decision. ¡°Why are you always like that! For so long, and all the time too! If you¡¯re going to lie, why can¡¯t you at least lie a little more believably? At least at times like this¡­ I don¡¯t even care if it¡¯s a lie, but can¡¯t you at least pretend to be sad?¡± It was at that time I found out. The course of a person¡¯s life could change greatly in just a few minutes. ¡°You always always always just keep getting on everyone¡¯s nerves! And there¡¯s not even a single part of you that¡¯s actually the slightest bit child-like!¡± I was stabbed by a rapid succession of screamed out words. Pierced all the way through. I held my tongue and endured my mother¡¯s resentment. ¡°Something like you can¡¯t be my daughter! What did you do with my Ayaka?¡± Those words became the lethal blow. My heart started beating violently. It became harder to breathe and I could feel my vision fading. She didn¡¯t really mean it. She wasn¡¯t thinking clearly. I¡¯m sure that wasn¡¯t how she really felt. I kept fervently telling myself that. ¡°Well, what am I then?¡± ¡°You¡¯re a witch.¡± I asked with my voice shaking, and the answer I got back was also delivered in a trembling tone. A witch. Who invites children out into the forest and turns them into ingredients for stew. ¡°Give her back! Give me my Ayaka back! My daughter, the one I painfully gave birth to¡­ aaa, just give her back!¡± I have no idea what led my mother to think of the word ¡°witch¡±. Perhaps she got it from the fairy tales. But, I thought it was a perfect description. Because I was the one who had taken away her little daughter, the Aizawa Ayaka my mother had been expecting. Who had erased her from this world and taken her place. If you looked at it that way witch was a perfect description. And so my own parents gave up on me before I had turned ten. I was not surprised. What ended up being the final straw was when my memories got mixed up and I didn¡¯t know what days had been chosen anymore. Trying to remember took a long time. I¡¯ve gotten the knack of it by now and can do it almost instantly, but back then I was unable to deal with such an enormous amount of memories. There were times I had to ask for other people to wait, and the conversation ended while I still was trying to remember. While my confusion eventually went away, the trust I had lost did not come back. On a dark February night, I was entrusted to a relative¡¯s house with no prior warning. Before the spring break even had time to start, I was put into a state of semi house arrest. Did it become a fun, fun, homestay with my cousins? Not at all! The next time I was called back home was just before the start of the next semester. A prefab hut had been erected in a corner of our not particularly big garden. Faced with that sight, I recalled the word my mother had screamed the day after our cat had died. Witch. So that was how it was, I was a witch. The hut had a narrow kitchen and a hard to clean unit bath. It was even supplied with a high efficiency washing machine. About the only things left to buy on my own were a mirror and an electric kettle. Far too splendid a cell for a witch in solitary confinement. From that day onwards that one room was my castle. Even now I would not be allowed to set foot in the main building. The Tenth of April D According to my internal clock, fourteen days had passed since the day me and Inaba-san had fun talking about mushrooms. ¡°Do you hate your parents for abandoning you?¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°And that¡¯s how you fell in love with me, Minase Yuuka, for being kind of heart and coming to your aid. Right?¡± ¡°No way.¡± My cousin Yuuka had come over this evening. My room didn¡¯t contain anything noteworthy except a small bed and a low table. Yuuka still came over for dinner about once every three days. After we ate she would usually talk about harmless but also fairly pointless stuff for a while, before then going back home. She had a lot of free time. Normally she was working as a¡­ photographer? or something. I wasn¡¯t completely sure, but at least I got the impression she was self-employed. With each day happening about five times on average, that meant I usually got to meet her one or two of those times. Honestly speaking it was kind of annoying, but with her in practice being the one supposed to take care of me, I couldn¡¯t really complain too loudly either. ¡°Since you¡¯re coming over for dinner pretty much every day, I¡¯ll have you know I¡¯m not running a charity here.¡± ¡°How mean. I¡¯m already exercising all the patience I have to make sure I only eat here once every three days.¡± Her crudely put together ponytail shook slightly and she pursed her lips. If she just could remain quiet there were probably quite a few men that would try approaching Yuuka, but taking into account how she kept talking all the time, her constant grinning, and also adding her unique inclinations to it all, she was a prime example of an unfortunate beauty. Especially in my own mind. ¡°Hey, wasn¡¯t the ¡°yesterday¡± when you came here chosen? If you keep coming over literally every day I¡¯ll run out of rice faster.¡± ¡°Ah, I guess I did. You see, unlike you I tend to forget things.¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure other people can also remember what they did yesterday.¡± Yuuka was probably the only person on the planet that knew about my circumstances well enough not to be mystified at the way I talked about ¡°yesterday¡±, and the way I had used the expression ¡°chosen¡± in this context. There had been one time where I figured I would try telling her just for the sake of it, but she just immediately believed me. So each time the fact that I had told her vanished, I had patiently explained the whole thing again. I would still hesitate to completely say she understood, but at least she was conveniently adaptable. ¡°So, this makes how many of ¡®today¡¯?¡± ¡°Four. This is the tenth of April D.¡± ¡°Well, sorry for asking you this for the fourth time then, but how was your day yesterday?¡± Yuuka asked the question that had turned into routine between the two of us. Her question was obviously not meant to be taken at face value. ¡°This is still only the second time you¡¯ve visited me today. And as you also know, the yesterday that got chosen was the one where we ate mapo eggplant.¡± Not that she had asked about the dinner menu, but since I didn¡¯t want to tell her about everything else, the menu it was. I ate something different every day. With my everyday life not moving onwards, as if I was constantly stuck in mud, being able to choose what I cooked was one of the few things I had to look forward to. ¡°In total there were five yesterdays that didn¡¯t get chosen. Breaking it all down, I had fish boiled in soy sauce, dried mackerel, napolitan, oyakodon, and Chanpuru. I wonder if I have to mention the side dishes too.¡± I painted up the menus that only I knew about, that hadn¡¯t been chosen. Since I had gone shopping I had been spoiled with choices. The one person in the whole world that knew about my circumstances sat across the table and listened to me explaining the now illusionary menu. ¡°Aya-chan¡­ you really don¡¯t talk about anything except food.¡± I could feel my face turn bright red. I felt like I had just been called a glutton. ¡°There wasn¡¯t anything else to talk about!¡± My cousin, eight years older than me, stuck with me under the pretense of gathering material for a photo essay. About the boring everyday life I spent during days that hadn¡¯t been chosen. I hadn¡¯t ever seen an actual draft of it though. ¡°So, what was there aside from the food?¡± ¡°¡­nothing happened.¡± ¡°You¡¯re lyyying, Aya-chan. Don¡¯t think you can fool me. For once you actually seemed to be having fun yesterday, when you talked about the new semester having started.¡± Privacy was not a luxury I could afford. ¡°I said there wasn¡¯t anything.¡± We irritatedly stared at each other. While I thought that Yuuka was the one person I didn¡¯t want to talk about it with. She did not let me go. There was the quiet pressure she was emitting, accusing me of hiding something. And Yuuka eventually cornered me by bringing up my special circumstances. It was awful. ¡°Want to try to start working part-time?¡± It was no doubt intended as her threatening to stop paying for my living expenses. I¡¯ll just say it again, but privacy was not a luxury I could afford. ¡°Just kidding. Your pay would only be proportional to a fifth of the time you spent working. You definitely can¡¯t get a job.¡± If I got a job, I would need to work for five times as long as the average person before finally getting paid for the first time. Even if I managed to find a job I liked, there were limits to how far enthusiasm alone would take you. I guess there was also the possibility of being able to spend my entire salary five times over, if a day where I splurged wasn¡¯t chosen. But I did not particularly fancy my chances of being overlooked by the demon called probability. I should probably also state that it seemed quite likely I would just have to face my own empty wallet, after using it no more than thrice at most. I¡¯m not a particularly lucky person. ¡°Your big sis here is starting to get worried about your future, Ayaka. Like if you¡¯ll be able to get a proper job or not.¡±, Yuuka said with a sigh. Well, it¡¯s not like I wasn¡¯t aware. Getting a proper job, the kind where you sell your time in exchange for an hourly wage¡­ was probably impossible. Even I thought as much. In that case, what about if I used my special ability to get ahead in life? That was the one thing I absolutely did not want to do. Would you be able to eat a meal prepared using a kitchen knife your own parents were stabbed with? That was basically how I felt about it. ¡°I¡¯ll just have to seduce some ignorant rich guy. I¡¯m sure having five times as much experience could have its advantages.¡± Even if I intentionally tried to sound boastful about it, marrying into money didn¡¯t feel right at all for me. I would have to give the future some serious thought. Our world is not one kind enough to help out people who can¡¯t do anything for others just for the sake of it. There was overwhelming evidence of that. You need money to live, and money is something you get by doing things for other people. ¡°Aaah¡­ you¡¯re cute when you¡¯re thinking dark thoughts too, Aya-chan.¡± Yuuka shuddered. ¡°¡­so, are you keeping quiet because you¡¯re imagining yourself together with that rich guy?¡± I thought I had managed to evade the topic until Yuuka forgot, but she turned out to be unexpectedly tenacious. This deviously perceptive woman probably realised my silence was covering up something I didn¡¯t want to talk about. ¡°What¡­ it¡¯s not actually about love.¡± And with that I gave up. I should have known right from the start: Privacy was not a luxury I could afford. ¡°There¡¯s this girl in my class¡­ she¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°And what about this girl in your class?¡± ¡°¡­we just became friends. That¡¯s all.¡± A friend, to something like me. How many years has it been? A friend to someone like me, who had spent the whole time all alone. For the first time in history, someone I stayed friends with even as the day kept being repeated. Yuuka would probably be worried. ¡°You¡­!¡± I wasn¡¯t lying, if that was what she thought. ¡°You even managed to¡­!¡± It was not anything worth being that amazed about either though. ¡°You even managed to have an affaaaaaaair!¡± And she completely missed the mark. ¡°I don¡¯t recall even once considering being in a serious relationship with you.¡± Wait a minute. With that phrasing it sounded like I was considering a serious relationship with Inaba-san. ¡°How awful! You were just tricking me into giving you money!¡± ¡°Cut the melodrama.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t waaant to, Aya-chan. Or rather, I¡¯m being serious.¡± I was starting to feel a bit fed up. Besides, Inaba-san was a girl. Maybe Yuuka would have had more of a point if it had been about a guy. Even if my mind may have been that of a gra¡­gra¡­ grandma in her seventies¡­ anyway, my body was still that of a fifteen year old girl. Still in the middle of puberty, my brain overrun by hormones and ruled by instincts. So it wasn¡¯t like I couldn¡¯t understand having a lot of interest in the opposite sex. Even if some would call me a witch I was still made up of flesh and blood. I couldn¡¯t resist the impulses carried by the neurons in my brain. So let¡¯s say that, just hypothetically, even if it would also have been a really really serious situation, that I were in love with Inaba-san. In that case, what if Inaba-san had been a guy that by some unavoidable circumstance had to dress in women¡¯s clothing and I somehow intuitively knew that on a subconscious level, or I hope I don¡¯t sound like an idiot for saying this but if there had been something unusual about my own body and I somehow hadn¡¯t noticed, or, what I¡¯m saying is¡­ there was the matter of if one of us would have the right kind of¡­. masculine equipment. I seriously hated the thought of either option. So since I didn¡¯t think either of those two options was the case, that meant this probably couldn¡¯t be love and I just liked her a little bit strongly, or¡­ ¡°Seriously speaking, I haven¡¯t been able to stay, friends, with someone for a long time, especially not all the way until ¡°tomorrow¡±. So you could just say I¡¯m a bit confused about how to approach the whole thing. ¡° Yes, I was just worried. If I wasn¡¯t, this would have been an emergency. There was something cold about Yuuka¡¯s gaze as she looked at me squirm and make excuses. The Twenty-first of April B Inaba-san was often almost late to school. At first I didn¡¯t care, but as she kept rushing into the classroom out of breath day after day it was only natural that I grew curious. After about one ¡°month¡± of observation, I had managed to deduce a few things. There were roughly speaking two different possibilities for Inaba-san¡¯s lateness. Either she would always be late on a certain date, or something coincidental led to her being late on a certain repetition only. ¡°Do you live far from school? It kind of feels like you¡¯re late a lot.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s actually not that far. It¡¯s just that staying up late has turned into a bit of a habit.¡±, Inaba-san responded with a wry smile when I asked her before our first class started. Staying up late. That was what set coincidence apart from certainty. If her reason for being late was that she stayed up late, it didn¡¯t matter if today was day A or B. Even if it had been Z she would have been suffering from a lack of sleep. So a strong enemy must have spawned to block her path the days where that wasn¡¯t the case and she still was late. Like if her bedhead wasn¡¯t cooperating. Or if the train was late. Once our first class had ended, Inaba-san came over and clung to my desk, calling out as if she was a cat. ¡°Ayakaa, I¡¯m tiiired.¡± She calmly called my name. What, exactly, was she supposed to be. A womanizer or something? ¡°I see, I see.¡± Speaking of that, Inaba-san had pretty hair. It felt like a bit of a waste that she just wore her simple double braid on most days. ¡°Hey, Inaba-san, uhm¡­¡± Just as I was thinking that and following the tips of her hair with my eyes¡­ ¡°Inabaa, over heere!¡± A voice called out Inaba-san¡¯s name from the middle of the classroom. It was Fukayasu-san. Fukayasu Natsume. One of the girls that stood out the most in our class, with her hair done up in a bun that conveyed the feeling it would easily be able to get ten thousand likes. Inaba-san responded with a vague ¡°yeah?¡± before she headed over to Fukayasu¡¯s desk, where two other girls also idly were hanging around. She also didn¡¯t forget to properly glance back at me once on the way there. ¡°I¡¯ll do your hair.¡± ¡°Yay!¡± Hairpins and clips and combs were soon lined up on Fukayasu-san¡¯s desk, making it feel like a beauty parlor. If it had been the much stricter middle school I had gone to, it would have fallen just short of the thing you could have been called to the guidance counsellor for. Even now it would probably have resulted in punishment in the form of a written apology if it was found out. ¡°Ah, come on. I was wondering what state your hair would be in, Inaba, but it¡¯s way too pretty for such a vampire.¡± ¡°Heh, heh.¡± The vampire comment must have been referring to Inaba-san¡¯s nocturnality. There was no hesitation in the way Fukayasu-san¡¯s fingers moved. She plucked out the elastics that had been keeping Inaba-san¡¯s braids together, gently combed through her beautiful hair with her fingers, before running through it with a tortoiseshell comb. Smoothly, not even making the slightest of sounds, Inaba-san¡¯s hair flowed gently as silk. ¡°By the way, you see, yesterday I was bored because I had nothing to do, so I tried watching some tv and then there was an appearance by Hayashi-kun from the¡­¡± ¡°Ah, I watched that too. Amazing, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Inaba-san could manage to get close to anyone. Someone who was the class¡¯ center of attention, someone clearly floating apart from everyone else¡­ it didn¡¯t matter. Neither did who was a winner or loser. In fact I had never heard her call anyone either word. She probably wouldn¡¯t make such a childish distinction in the first place. Freer and more mature than anyone else. ¡°Inaba, you seee, speaking of Aizawa¡­..-san, the two of you talk a lot. Right?¡± ¡°Yeah. She¡¯s an interesting person, isn¡¯t she?¡± I ended up straining my ears at the sudden mention of my own name. While I felt disgusted at myself for shamelessly eavesdropping, I didn¡¯t stop either. ¡°You should stop talking to her.¡± Words fired off like a dazzling rocket. A brief pause in the conversation made the turmoil going on inside Inaba-san clear. ¡°What? Why?¡± ¡°Why¡­ I mean, you get it, don¡¯t you?¡± She¡¯s dangerous. Was what this girl, who stood out even among the most popular in the class, was saying about me. Her followers showed their agreement with a silent nod. ¡°I mean, she¡¯s really out of place. And I don¡¯t think she actually pays attention in class, and somehow she always gets perfect scores even though she never takes any notes.¡± ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s amazing!¡± ¡°No! I guess it is amazing, but no! With how our teachers can be kind of cold too, there¡¯s also people saying she might even be bribing her way to good grades. Really scary, isn¡¯t she?¡± So that was what people thought about me¡­ I had no idea. ¡°Anyway, she¡¯s weird, so stop talking with her. You¡¯re better off staying away. People will start thinking you¡¯re weird too, Inaba.¡± My heart was pounding so hard my chest hurt. Not because I was being treated as some kind of monster. I was already too used to that. I was curious about how Inaba-san would react. That was all. If Inaba-san heeded the warning, and today got chosen, it could have ended up being the last day we spent together. I kept a straight face, while internally feeling like I wanted to start praying. ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Our class was ruled by a cruel and childish caste system. The inevitable evil that accompanies any gathering of people, trying to dominate our hearts. The mighty weapon called peer pressure, set into motion. ¡°I think stuff like that doesn¡¯t really affect me.¡± Inaba-san slipped out from under that rule as smoothly as an eel. She shut up both Fukayasu-san and her followers with a single smile, a smile which left no room for disagreement. ¡°Well, I¡¯m done.¡± Fukayasu-san said it with a blunt tone of voice, seemingly unwilling to admit defeat. ¡°Wow. You¡¯re just like a pro, Natsume-chan.¡± ¡°Watch out or I¡¯ll charge you.¡± The two of them exchanged a few words as if nothing had happened, then Inaba-san came back over to me. She lightly slipped into the seat in front me, before showing off her newly done bun of hair. ¡°Aizawa-san, look at me, look at me¡±. ¡°Mmm, it¡¯s cute.¡± Inaba-san let out a satisfied laugh, followed by motionlessly staring at me. The silence didn¡¯t even last a second, but said all it had to. It wasn¡¯t like I didn¡¯t understand what she was trying to say. ¡°Come with me. Let¡¯s try to get along with Fukayasu-san too¡±, probably just about summed it up. But it would end up not having happened anyway. No matter what I did, it would just be as if it hadn¡¯t happened. That was why I didn¡¯t try to be friends with anyone. As long as I did that, everyone else would make sure to stay far away from me. And that was fine. Much better than having someone you once had gotten closer to treat you as a stranger. ¡°I think it suits you really well.¡± I intentionally pretended not to have noticed Inaba-san¡¯s silent invitation. I praised my one and only friend, while feeling like I wanted to cry. The Thirtieth of April D Nine days had passed since our long holiday started. Perhaps I would regret saying this later, but I was getting tired of not having school. It was early in the afternoon, and I was hugging my favourite cushion while staring at the cover of a fashion magazine(Be Prepared for Summer: Plans for Making Your Face and Hair Look the Way You Want) I already had looked at enough to be bored of it, and thinking over the contents of books I had read long ago. That was about all the fun that was to be had. Yuuka¡¯s humming entered my right ear. ¡° Mmm heh heh ~~ ? Heh heh heh~¡± She seemed to be in quite a good mood. Enough to be tying someone¡¯s hair into a braid without asking for consent. Well, I was just thinking about getting up and baking some cookies anyway, so at least she was helping put it up. Speaking of hairstyles, Inaba-san¡¯s hair put up in a bun¡­ that was cute. I wondered what she was doing now. While this was the ninth day without school for me, for Inaba-san it was still just the second. She would probably practically feel like she was floating. Maybe she would be taking it easy at home, or grappling with the mountains of homework we had been assigned. Or maybe she would have gone out somewhere. But in what clothes, wearing which hairstyle, and with who¡­ thinking of it, I didn¡¯t know any of that. Even though she was my closest friend I didn¡¯t know anything at all about her. That¡¯s right. ¡°Yuuka, let me practice on you.¡± ¡°Kissing?¡± ¡°Idiot.¡± While keeping the joking Yuuka in check, I stood up and signaled for her to sit down. ¡°Aya-chan¡­ we can¡¯t, it¡¯s still daylight outside.¡± I figured I¡¯d just punch her hard, but Yuuka dexterously evaded, moving only her upper body. ¡°Aya-chan¡­ violent heroines aren¡¯t popular anymore these days.¡± ¡°If I let you commit sexual harassment without punishment, then wouldn¡¯t that just make it a sex crime?¡± I said while waving my open hand which had just cut through empty air. ¡°Anyway, I just wanted to practice hairstyling.¡± I figured there¡¯d be no harm in getting at least as good at it as the average person. ¡°So that¡¯s why, would you, let me touch your hair? It¡¯s reasonably long and kind of pretty, after all.¡± ¡°To think that my Aya-chan had such a fetish¡­¡± It would have been just fine is she just had let me do it without saying that, but Yuuka continued putting on airs. ¡°Hmm. Well, I don¡¯t mind, but it seems like you could do it with your own too. It¡¯s both plenty long enough and pretty.¡± ¡°Doing it on yourself while using the mirror feels too different from doing it with someone else¡¯s hair.¡± Once I had memorized the process, and done it properly at least once, I would be able to go over it over and over within my perfect memory, channeling it until the act practically became habit. Not being able to forget things was a curse I couldn¡¯t lift, but depending on how you used it there were some advantages too. I guess I don¡¯t have a choice, was what Yuuka said as she took the cushion from me. ¡°Be gentle.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± I took away the mildly coloured hair elastic Yuuka was wearing, and after I did her hair formed a loose web as it was pulled down by gravity. Her cuticles proclaimed their presence with a strong gloss, and her hair lightly smelled of luxurious cologne. Even though she was Yuuka she actually seemed like a proper adult woman. What was I supposed to do. I was having a hard time gathering my thoughts properly. ¡°Hey?¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing, so just shut up.¡± Yuuka tilted her neck, looking like she wanted me to hurry up. My wandering gaze stumbled upon the special edition magazine I had left lying open. Let¡¯s start with trying a bun. After I had thought that far the rest went quickly. I loosely grabbed a bundle of hair, making sure to leave just a few straggling hairs to help make it look quite sexy when finished. And then¡­ ¡°You¡¯re surprisingly bad at this, Aya-chan.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll get used to it soon enough.¡± I continued as carefully as if handling something about to break, but still nimbly, all the while remembering what movements were unnecessary or unhelpful. I wouldn¡¯t have to practice a second time. My fingertips were soon only moving in the most optimal ways. If my efforts had been comparable to sewing by hand when I first started practicing, by now I was already closer to being a sewing machine. My speed and accuracy were both about as good as when I had been doing it on my own head. And done. ¡°What do you think?¡± ¡°Ooh! Wow, Aya-chan!¡± I thought it would at least be good enough for Yuuka to be happy. She shook her head from left to right while looking into my three-way mirror. Even when she shook more violently the bun didn¡¯t fall apart. Seemed like I had gotten the hang of it. Yuuka almost looked like a little girl as she stared at her own head and grinned. Good thing she liked it. In that case, it was time for the next one. ¡°Huh, wait, you¡¯re undoing it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. I was planning on learning how to do all the hairstyles in that magazine before today is over.¡± ¡°Eeh¡­¡± I ignored my displeased cousin and untied the bun, returning her hair to its former shoulder length. It was an exhilarating feeling, like I was destroying someone¡¯s precious sand castle. The Eleventh of May A With the break just having ended, there was a relaxed feeling to the air in the classroom. During the break I had made sure to get plenty of practice and rehearsed over and over mentally. So I set my mind to it and immediately proceeded into action. But it wasn¡¯t until just before morning homeroom that Inaba-san came rushing into the classroom, her double braids bouncing. Since there wasn¡¯t enough time left for me to talk to her then, my first opportunity ended up being during the break after our first class had ended. Alright, I was going to approach her. I was, going to, approach her! Just as I thought that¡­ ¡°Inabaa, long time no seeee.¡± ¡­I suddenly got the wind taken out of my sails. ¡°Natsume-chan, you doing well?¡± Even worse, it was Fukayasu Natsume. But if anything, I only had myself to blame for dawdling. Inaba-san gave me the same quick glance as always, seemingly urging me, before she headed over to the center of the classroom. I heard talk about things like where people had gone over the break, about still having some left of the mountains of homework we had been assigned, about how a scandal involving a male idol and an affair had been exposed on morning tv. As I watched, Inaba-san melded with the noise in the classroom. I was just like a grade schooler. Thinking about embarrassing things like who she saw as her best friend. Things I wouldn¡¯t say out loud even if someone tore my mouth open. But I still thought them. Even if I wouldn¡¯t actually say any of it, I was thinking things embarrassing enough to make my face erupt into flames if anyone found out. And I was bored. Could I please have her back soon? I was horrified as I realised. What was I thinking? No way. I had thought I would be fine with it. I had managed to be just fine on my own the whole time until now. Managing to make a friend had made something weird happen to me. I was too caught up in my own thoughts to notice. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°Uh¡± No more than thirty seconds could have passed. Inaba-san had returned without me noticing. Even though I had been staring at her back the whole time, it seemed like I hadn¡¯t actually been paying attention to what I was seeing. ¡°Aizawa-san, it looked like you wanted to talk. But I still just walked away when they called for me.¡± I felt like I was about to start floating. Inaba-san had understood what I wanted, become worried about it, and chosen to prioritize me. So this was what being over the moon felt like. ¡°Inaba-san¡­¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°¡­never mind.¡± I was too caught up in emotion to be completely honest. And I couldn¡¯t let Inaba-san¡¯s kindness go to waste. If I did, what would have been the point of practicing on Yuuka? ¡°Heh heh, you just wanted to try calling my name.¡± ¡°No!¡± I ended up shouting. The people around us turned around to see what had happened, but when I met their eyes they hastedly tried to act like nothing had happened. The way everyone treated me as if I was some sort of tumor stung in my chest. Because of how kind Inaba-san was in comparison. ¡°Umm¡­ I can do it too, you know¡­ style your hair so it looks cute.¡± ¡°¡­!¡± Inaba-san seemed to be taken aback for a second, but. ¡°I see! In that case I¡¯d like you to do just that, Aizawa-san. If that¡¯s ok?¡± She said while letting out a big laugh. The same honest and straightforward Inaba-san as always. A friend like the sun, unimitatable and liked by everyone. All I could do was to respond with a small nod, as if I was trying to look away from her shine. I didn¡¯t have the kind of social skills a fifteen or sixteen year old girl normally would have. I hadn¡¯t lost them. I had just given up right from the start. And then I made a friend. Even if it had been a coincidence, I had at last met one. Someone who was willing to entrust her hair, as important to a girl as her own life, into the care of someone like me. A small spark lit up inside my frozen chest. Being given care over her hair made my heart pound. And it was soft. As soft as a cat¡¯s fur. Her hair, which easily slid through my fingers. ¡°What did you do during the break, Aizawa-san?¡± ¡°¡­I was at home, I went out sometimes, that¡¯s about it.¡± I undid her two braids and quickly combed through her hair with my fingers. It didn¡¯t have any apparent damage from her nocturnal habits and flowed smoothly, seemingly not knowing the meaning of the words tangled up. I felt like my hands would start shaking from anxiety, but I made up for it with the movements that had been thoroughly drilled into my fingertips. A sweet smell ¡ª probably from treatment ¡ª emanated from her hair, tickled my nose and made my frontal lobe tingle. ¡°We visited my grandma in Sendai.¡± ¡°I see.¡± I didn¡¯t think I could continue the conversation. My fingers would start shaking if I didn¡¯t focus. And almost without me noticing, a splendid half-up half-down hairdo had appeared in front of my eyes. It had just the right of volume, good balance, and durability. I was satisfied with what I had woven. ¡°Aizawa-san, you wouldn¡¯t happen to be a hairstylist?¡± ¡°I just learned from my cousin.¡± ¡°Amazing! As expected! I didn¡¯t know what was as expected, but Inaba-san seemed to be in a good mood and was looking at me with warm eyes. I let out a sigh, feeling satisfied at having accomplished my task. I wanted to talk more, but the bell that announced the start of our next class chimed. Our strict math teacher went up to the podium precisely on the dot, and told us to find a page in the textbook. During class, I found myself shamelessly enjoying seeing Inaba-san¡¯s small gestures as she checked out her new hairdo. The Twentieth of May A Inaba-san said strange things sometimes. Startled me, by talking as if she already knew what was going to happen. ¡°Aizawa-san, the classic literature teacher will call on you later today.¡± It was the first thing she said after our lunch break started. ¡°Number twenty on the attendance list would be Shizu-kun though.¡± With today being the twentieth, usually twenty or twenty-five, or at least somewhere between the two would make more sense, with both numbers being multiples of five that had a two as the first digit. If someone were to be called on, surely it would be around those numbers. But with this day being the first time, I couldn¡¯t say for sure either. ¡°But you were still called on, Aizawa-san. Well, and you also answered as fast as always.¡± At least I was happy to get a glimpse of how much faith Inaba-san had in me, judging by how confidently she had said it, but¡­ ¡°Is that your deja vu talking?¡± Deja vu, the feeling of experiencing something for the first time, but somehow already feeling like you knew what was going to happen. Inaba-san¡¯s proclamations felt a bit too close to actually seeing the future to be explained away as just simple deja vu, though. ¡°Yeah. And by the way, it¡¯ll be sunny until evening today.¡± Was she somehow vaguely remembering things from past instances of the same day? No, that couldn¡¯t be the case. Today was the twentieth of May A. The first time. And while my doubts hadn¡¯t been cleared yet, there was at least one other thing I had to be clear about. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t say this to anyone else.¡± Perhaps Inaba-san would have been fine anyway, but knowing things others did not tended to inspire both respect and fear. And if those people didn¡¯t accept your explanations for how you had acquired said knowledge, respect could easily transform into animosity. Why do you know that? Are you doing something illegal? And just like that, people¡¯s suspicions would be roused. ¡°So it¡¯ll be a secret that only the two of us know?¡± There was something in Inaba-san¡¯s eyes that gave off a joking tone. ¡°That wasn¡¯t what I meant. It¡¯s just that people would start looking at you weirdly¡±, I quietly responded. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t care about things like that, Aizawa-san.¡± Inaba-san opened her eyes wide, emphasising how unusual a sight she considered me caring about such things to be. ¡°I don¡¯t mind if it¡¯s just about me, but I don¡¯t like the thought of people starting to think of you that way too.¡± If it just was me¡­ I was used to it. I could take it. But Inaba-san being laughed at behind her back and kept at arm¡¯s length was definitely not something I would be particularly happy about. Just the thought alone tugged at my heartstrings. ¡°Hmm, isn¡¯t that kind of unfair?¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like I like it when people gossip about you either, you know, Aizawa-san.¡± She was quite right. I was being unfair. Turning a blind eye to my own shortcomings, while demanding that Inaba-san be able to do everything I couldn¡¯t myself. ¡°You don¡¯t have to-¡± Care about small things like that, was what I was about to say when I was interrupted by the rumbling of Inaba-san¡¯s stomach. She knew what the weather would be, yet she couldn¡¯t remember to bring lunch. ¡°Did you forget to bring lunch again?¡± ¡°Uhh, I observe that it appears as if I did.¡±, she said in a tearful voice. ¡°If I had been your mom I would probably start getting angry at you.¡± Inaba-san was good at forgetting things. It seemed like it would be quite sad to get up early and prepare a lunchbox for your child only to then have it be forgotten. I could at least say that if I had made one for Yuuka and she ended up just neglecting it, I would make sure not to make her any more for a month or so. In my case a month didn¡¯t mean more than just a week for everyone else, but being angry was exhausting. But that didn¡¯t mean I could just forgive. ¡°I humbly beg your pardon, dear mother¡­ but I can¡¯t actually picture you being angry, Aizawa-san.¡± Aizawa-san playfully apologised while looking up at the sky. Somehow I suspected her mom hadn¡¯t heard it. ¡°I guess.¡± I meant it, was probably what Inaba-san had been planning to respond with next. But instead her stomach just made more noise. ¡°Weell, I guess it seems like I don¡¯t have a choice.¡± I handed over a bundle to Inaba-san. Even I thought I was probably being a bit too kind to her. ¡°This is¡­¡± Pancakes. Not enough for lunch, but enough to make for a nice snack. ¡°My goddess!¡± I was definitely not a goddess. Because there is no god. ¡°There¡¯s black tea too if you want.¡± ¡°But, are you sure you don¡¯t mind?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like sweet things anyway.¡± That was where someone may have wanted to ask why I had brought pancakes with me in that case, but it wasn¡¯t like I had been aiming to share with Inaba-san or anything. I had intended to properly eat them on my own. Disliking sweet foods was just the means to an end. Because I was not lying. I had told the truth. The truly true truth. Fortunately Inaba-san did not sweat the details. ¡°Huh, I see. That¡¯s unusual.¡± I placed my thermos on the desk and the two of us began having lunch. While bathed by the warm spring sunlight that flowed in from the window, I thought about how meals eaten with friends were special, and how wild animals that had been fed may stop going back out into the wild. Maybe I was a bit off the mark. ¡°This tastes great!¡± ¡°Thanks¡­¡± The soft late May sunlight made me feel like I would fall asleep if I got too distracted. Half a year, or more accurately just under two months, had passed since the entrance ceremony. Two months I had spent with Inaba-san at every opportunity. She was no doubt the best friend I ever had. But to Inaba-san I was just one of many. Inaba-san was as popular as you would expect, and seemingly had friends all over the place, so I wasn¡¯t able to have lunch with her like this more than a mere ten times per week. Perhaps I should also have tried to make more friends like Inaba-san had, but unfortunately I hadn¡¯t changed. I was just fine being on my own. Though to be honest, I did feel lonely. I still couldn¡¯t believe that I somehow had ended up feeling such emotions. But it wasn¡¯t like friendship was something you could monopolise. If anything being friends with several people was more normal. And I wouldn¡¯t have admitted to it, to just selfishly feeling lonelier and lonelier, even if someone had torn my mouth open. And it wasn¡¯t like there was anything I could do about it. Even if I became friends with someone else we could just have become total strangers again the next day. Perhaps it could be called an omen. If I tried to get closer to someone, that day would not be chosen. For instance there was Kotani-san, one of our classmates. By means of Inaba-san we had had friendly chats on a total of seven days. Normally you would expect to be able to call someone a friend after that long, but reality was that we weren¡¯t. So Inaba-san was an exception even among exceptions. I didn¡¯t think I was particularly sensitive, but I didn¡¯t have such an unbreakable iron will that I didn¡¯t feel anything after being treated as a stranger by someone with the same face as the person I had become friends with the day before either. Having repeated that experience, having repeated it over and over, there was no way I could forget. It had even made me quite timid. On the days we didn¡¯t have lunch together, Inaba-san talked with me a lot, as if she was trying to compensate. It was almost as if she unnecessarily felt guilty about it, but regardless of why she did it, it made me happy. ¡°It¡¯s a secret to other people, but¡± Inaba-san said it suddenly, without turning my way. While still moving her chopsticks. She was acting unusually evasive. ¡°when I grow up, I¡¯m going to be a witch.¡± My mind went blank at this much too sudden coming out. What she said came had been too much of a sudden leap. It felt so much like some kind of prank that I almost was sure that I must have overheard some other nearby people talking about some game. But there was no mistaking it. The voice in my memories had been Inaba-san¡¯s, and even the movement of her lips remained inside my mind. Why say it now? And to someone like me? Or rather, what did she mean by witch? ¡°What, did you just say?¡± ¡°A witch¡±, Inaba-san said as if trying to remind me. ¡°I-I see.¡± Was she making fun of me? But it didn¡¯t look like she was joking. I wouldn¡¯t expect something like magic to exist. There was always a seed of truth behind every magic trick. And even if you could take out seeds from things like grapes and watermelons, the seeds of truth behind the magic would always remain. But, with how good my memory was, maybe the existence of magic wasn¡¯t so farfetched. ¡°Could you tell me more?¡± ¡°You believe me?¡± I quietly nodded. Because my memories were also magic. Not magic with some kind of hidden truth behind it. Just the magic of not forgetting. If things that were distanced from reality could be considered magic, the inside of my skull was already enough to make for quite the fantasy world. Even if all it contained was ordinary and boring. ¡°I was hesitating quite a bit about whether to talk about it or not. But I¡¯ll become a witch soon enough. Keep it a secret to everyone else, alright?¡± ¡°So, you¡¯re an aspiring magician then?¡± ¡°No, not that kind. The kind that waves around a rod and flies through the sky, that kind.¡± ¡°¡­¡± I imagined her waving around a magic rod, stardust scattering in its wake. A fairy-tale like troop of small people appearing out of nowhere, sweeping the floor and cleaning, guided by the stardust. My mind went blank. ¡°You have to be making fun of me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not lying. Well, I wouldn¡¯t use, you know, magic where other people can see it though.¡± Inaba-san took a sip of the tea as if trying to calm herself down. The slightly guilty look in Inaba-san¡¯s eyes, the way she spoke carefully so no one else would hear, it all carried an air of secrecy about it. Made it seem believable that creatures called witches could still exist, could have kept passing on their own secret techniques out of sight from everyone else even in this modern era. ¡°Sorry for suddenly starting to talk about weird stuff¡°, Inaba-san tried to lightly brush the topic aside, probably because I had gotten a bit lost in thought. It¡¯s fine if you don¡¯t believe me, was how I would have expected her to continue. But those much too abject words did not emerge from Inaba-san¡¯s mouth. So instead I decided to believe her. Even if today were to end up vanishing. Inaba-san tried to change the topic so forcefully it didn¡¯t come across as other than unnatural. ¡°Thank you for the pancakes. I¡¯ll give you this in return.¡± Inaba-san took up something from her pocket. It had an uncanny resemblance to the hair ties that gathered up the hair in her pigtails. I only just had time to open my eyes wide before my hair had been made into a ponytail. ¡°I¡¯m giving you that.¡± My facial muscles had decided to skip work today, not moving even an inch. Inaba-san¡¯s body had come excessively close while they refused to work, and I had become as immobile as if I had turned to stone. My nose caught wind of Inaba-san¡¯s pleasant smell. ¡°U-Uhm¡± ¡°Just like I thought! You¡¯re cute! And your hair is really pretty!¡± I couldn¡¯t say anything. It seemed like her magic had both petrified and spellbound me. ¡°Wow, Aizawa-san looks cute. What¡¯s up with that?¡± Even Kotani-san, who had been passing by, had stopped to look at me. It felt like, what¡¯s it called¡­ like I was sleeping on a bed made of thorns. Kotani-san was just a kind enough girl to be nice to even such an unpleasant woman as myself. Like you would be nice to a cat you had borrowed from someone else. Even without a mirror, I could tell. With my face being this hot, surely I must have turned red all the way to the tips of my ears. ¡°Inaba-san, I can¡¯t take this. I¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. It looks really good on you. It feels unthinkable to just take it off again when you look so cute.¡± Um, yeah, sure. It was magic. Perhaps Inaba-san was actually already a real witch. And had cast a spell on me, that prevented me from taking the hair tie off. And perhaps she always seemed so tired in the mornings because she was journeying through the night sky every day. While I was caught up in daydreams, Inaba-san¡¯s lips had approached my ear. ¡°It¡¯ll be our secret¡±, she whispered. Perhaps this had even been the best day of my life. I was thinking I¡¯d make the hair tie my family heirloom. Though, days like this one were usually not chosen. The Twentieth of May B The first thing that went through my mind after I woke up was disappointment that the new day wasn¡¯t a continuation of yesterday. What Inaba-san had said about witches and magic still echoed through my head. There was nothing I could do to prevent yesterday from vanishing. There was no way to know in advance which day would be chosen. During my 75 years I had not once found such a method. I had no way of keeping a single unique day safe. The day that was chosen was absolute. So if I had a day I had experienced that I wanted to be chosen, I would have to create more days like it. What I knew was that Inaba-san would forget to bring lunch today. ¡°Why do you look so tired?¡± Because I got up early to make lunch for you. ¡°I-I have a lunchbox for you.¡± It wasn¡¯t like I wanted the hair tie. Or like I wanted her to call me cute. Definitely not. ¡­Definitely not. And it wasn¡¯t like I suddenly had turned defiant and didn¡¯t care if she started thinking I was suspicious. My plans included the fact that Inaba-san wasn¡¯t the kind of person to become suspicious at the flood of lunch that welled up in front of her. Such a black-hearted woman, was I. And you know, like they say, the best way to become friends with someone is through their stomach. Or was that a different expression? ¡°Eh, really? Are you sure?¡± ¡°I have enough for two people, so no need to be shy.¡± ¡°Were you planning to share with someone? Ah, like a guy or something.¡± ¡°No, no.¡± I barely managed to maintain a straight face, while feeling like I was going to choke. I hadn¡¯t had such a relationship since the day I was born. And we had already had this conversation before, hadn¡¯t we. Even if it was the first time for Inaba-san. My hard(?) work was rewarded. I was able to have lunch with Inaba-san once more. As you ¡ª as people liked to say a bit too much ¡ª could change the future, just the same could you keep it from changing. And so, even the part I hadn¡¯t understood at all remained the same. ¡°Someday, I¡¯ll become a witch.¡± ¡°I-I see.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Including her weirdly timed coming out as a witch. If it just happened once it could have been a coincidence, but after happening twice it was clearly not. Inaba-san had been steeling herself for saying this to me on this day from the start. Which meant she was serious. As for whether she was being serious as in seriously telling the truth, or serious as in seriously trying to make fun of me, I couldn¡¯t tell yet. ¡°Ah, I just deja-vued.¡± ¡°Deja-vued. That¡¯s an interesting way to say it.¡± Deja vu was the feeling of already having seen something. Feeling like ¡°ah, this might have happened before¡± when facing something you hadn¡¯t actually seen before. In other words, it was not something I could have experienced. I remembered everything clearly. ¡°Yeah. It felt like I had told you this before, Aizawa-san. Even though there¡¯s no way I would have already told you something that weird.¡± ¡°True. Today is the first time I¡¯ve heard you say it.¡± You did say it, in fact only yesterday. You just forgot. I also wanted to say something strange, but I wasn¡¯t overflowing with courage like Inaba-san was. ¡°Maybe you told me about it in a dream?¡± Though I also ended up saying something as silly sounding as that we could have talked about it in a dream, but I could just about allow myself that much without feeling overly self-conscious about it. Even if it was like I was saying that we were so intimate that we would appear in each other¡¯s dreams. But. ¡°Maybe I did.¡± Inaba-san accepted it as if it was obvious, letting out a slight laugh. In one night, most people were in REM sleep about five times. So people should dream five times on average, but most people forget almost all of those dreams. Perhaps some people dreamed about events from the days that hadn¡¯t been chosen. By the way, I do not dream. The Twenty-third of May A The first signs of the incident came during the weekend, on the first Saturday. At the time it had seemed like a trivial detail. Yuuka didn¡¯t come. She had said she would come, but no matter how long I waited there was no sign of her. My weeks had twenty-five weekdays. The tiredness in my body didn¡¯t stay, so I was fine in that regard. But my mind got tired of it. On the other hand, there was also the benefit of on average having ten days off every week. And with such a long break, of course I tended to catch a case of the Sunday blues. It usually started showing during Saturday B. It was very rare for a day to end after only happening once, but it happened sometimes that a day ended after only two times. Getting depressed at thinking the next day was a monday was an experience shared between witches and normal people. On the contrary, Saturday A was easily the best day of the week. The phone call had come around noon. ¡°I¡¯ll be just a tiny bit late today.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mind if you don¡¯t come at all.¡± ¡°See you later! I¡¯ll bring a souvenir, so have fun waiting.¡± Was what she had said, completely ignoring me, before cutting the call right just after. But yet she still hadn¡¯t shown up at nine in the evening. It wasn¡¯t like I particularly was waiting for her. It was just that I couldn¡¯t put the plates away if she didn¡¯t come soon, and it would be annoying if she came while I was in the bath, and I was starving because I had figured we could eat together. When I tried to call her there was no response. Just, what the heck was she even doing. The Twenty-third of May B ¡°I¡¯ll be a tiny bit late today.¡± ¡°And you¡¯ll bring a souvenir, right.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­? Is this perhaps the second time? Or the third?¡± ¡°The second. By the way, the you from ¡®yesterday¡¯ never came. Even though you said you would.¡± As expected Yuuka didn¡¯t come over on this day either. I should have tried to find out why sooner. The Twenty-third of May E I had gotten tired of eating cod roe spaghetti. When it came down to it, that one sentence basically summed up the reason I had decided to go on an unplanned shopping trip. Of course I also had plenty of smaller reasons. Like how if Yuuka wasn¡¯t going to come anyway, I may as well eat what I personally wanted to, like how there was a book I had to return to the library so I may as well do that on the way, and like how eggs were cheap on Saturdays. If I had eggs I could make some baked sweets too. I figured that having gotten tired of cod roe spaghetti worked well enough as a representative for those other reasons. There weren¡¯t a lot of things to look forward to other than changing up what I ate, so I didn¡¯t mind the labour needed to do so. So that was why I ended up going shopping. On the way back I got to know the reason Yuuka hadn¡¯t come over the ¡°last few¡± days. I saw someone get run over. On the wide road just ahead of the street leading up to my own house. On the road in front of the elementary school I had gone to for twenty years. While recoiling from the shrill sound of brakes, I turned around to see a young woman rolling over the hood of a minivan, which had driven over the white lines painted next to the sidewalk. Her slim body was bent over double, her long limbs paddling air. During the instant when she was repelled by the car and hit the asfalt, I saw the woman¡¯s face. ¡°What¡­¡± I could feel the blood draining from my face. I had seen the face of someone I recognised. It couldn¡¯t be. While I was trying to run from the truth, the facial features I had seen were saved and scooped through my hippocampus. Written into my mind. ¡°What, are you¡± Are you doing in a place like that. No words came out of my dry throat. I felt deranged enough that I wanted to let out a harrowing scream. But somehow part of my mind remained focused. Some part of me remained clear-headed as I stared at the chaos. An old man screaming into his phone. Some young people whispering while keeping their distance. The driver staring emptily ahead in the driver¡¯s seat of the car. I saw all of that pass by me as I ran. My breathing rough like a dog¡¯s, my heart feeling like it was about to explode. I kneeled next to her, fearfully stretching out my hand. Her hair quickly gave way and exposed the face I had seen so many times. Any trace of colour was draining away as she turned pale. It can¡¯t be. While I was thinking that, a single line of blood that had stuck to her nose like a flowerbud flowed down and dropped to the ground. She had a carefree smile on her face. As if she hadn¡¯t even noticed she got run over. It was the same smile as always, wasn¡¯t it? When she came to visit me, always. ¡°Yuuka¡­¡± She had said she would come, but then she hadn¡¯t. This had been why. It couldn¡¯t be true, something like this. All I could do was stare at Yuuka in a daze as she laid there unmoving. No matter how you looked at it this was just¡­ I didn¡¯t want to say more than that. This was when I first realised. Routine, everyday life, ends at some point. Without warning. Pieces of the discount eggs I had managed to obtain fell out of the shopping bag I had tossed aside. Their shells had broken, their contents now leaking onto the asphalt outside. I watched the puddle spread, absently staring, not moving. Words of gratitude. Words of complaint. There were so many words I would have wanted to say. I wanted to apologise. I was always dishonest, and had kept acting childish. There were things I would have wanted to ask. What did she like about someone like me, enough to not leave me? But it was already too late for words. Because the person I wanted to tell them to was no more. Gone from this world. And I had not been raised simply enough to believe in a dream such as a world after death. The death of a person. Something I only ever had seen in my own imagination, was now in front of my eyes. Making it¡¯s dense presence all too known. Nothing could reach a person that already had died. This was the first time I learned that firsthand. Every day was on average five days long. Today was the fifth of those. I put my wishes on tomorrow, prayed for it. Put my hopes on the next day, as I fell into an unruly sleep. The Twenty-third of May F Nothing could reach a person that already had died. ¡­Assuming the hands of time weren¡¯t turned back. That¡¯s right. I had been allowed that special privilege. The days that had kept repeating until they became tedium. Today only, that repetition had turned into a powerful weapon. It had become the next morning while I still was in a daze¡­ was what might have happened if I had been a more innocent woman. I had already decided what to do first thing the next morning. First I would call Yuuka, then I would call Yuuka. Ten minutes to seven in the morning. My first call did not connect. Perhaps she was still sleeping. I kept calling and calling, intending to wake her up if possible. I would keep calling until she answered. I wouldn¡¯t be satisfied until I heard her voice. I listened to the monotone dial sound for about ten minutes, but I didn¡¯t get bored. I didn¡¯t have the leeway for that. She was still alive. I could still make it. There was still time before ¡°yesterday¡± would be chosen. I couldn¡¯t change what had already happened, but at least I could lower the risk it would become permanent. ¡°Aya-chan?¡± ¡°Yuuka, are you still alive?¡± I was probably being too loud. I could hear my voice get picked up by the mic of her phone and get echoed back to me. I tried to calm down while listening to my own slightly out of sync voice. ¡°Good morning, and that was quite the greeting, Aya-chan.¡± ¡°Please shut up. Where are you at the moment?¡± Yuuka seemed as carefree as always on the other end of the phone. She probably couldn¡¯t even have dreamed that she may die today. ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Answer me!¡± ¡°But you just told me to shut up, Aya-chan.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t actually shut up.¡± There was an unbridgeable gap in intensity between me, who had just seen her die the previous day, and Yuuka, who was spending her calm Saturday morning like usual. ¡°Heh heh heh, I was just searching for my high heels. It¡¯s already pretty rare for you to call me, Aya-chan, but to also sound so urgent¡­ makes it feel like there¡¯s going to be a storm today. Maybe I should bring an umbrella.¡± She must have been getting ready to go out. And was early even though it was a day off. Was today some special day? I could hear slightly muffled noises on the other end of the phone, making it sound like she was putting on shoes. And the rustling sound I occasionally could hear must probably have been the nylon material of her umbrella rubbing against something. ¡°Would you, perhaps, happen to be on your way out?¡± ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll swing by your place on the way back!¡± It suddenly felt harder to breathe. Perhaps Yuuka had been acting the same way on every saturday, every twenty-third of may. And if that was the case, On A and B and C, without me knowing it she may have¡­ An awful possibility crossed my mind. ¡°W-wait! Don¡¯t take a single step outside your house today!¡± I ended up screaming even though it was over the phone. The ensuing silence, carried over the waves, spoke to Yuuka¡¯s confusion. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that even if you¡¯re the one asking, Yuuka. I¡¯m going to meet friends from high school for the first time in two years. We¡¯ll have lunch and go shopping and¡­ I¡¯m looking forward to it.¡± I couldn¡¯t stop her. There seemed to be a high chance this Yuuka would go out today, and a not particularly low chance that she would end up in an accident. You¡¯ll die. If I said that I¡¯d probably be able to stop her, wouldn¡¯t I? She¡¯d probably give up on going outside, wouldn¡¯t she? ¡°Wait¡­¡± My voice was hoarse. She probably wouldn¡¯t stop, would she? I probably wouldn¡¯t have changed my plans either if someone told me I would die just as I was about to go out. I would have started doubting how sane the person I was speaking with was and that would have been the end of it. In that case¡­ ¡°Mmm? Sorry, I¡¯ll have to hang up soon. I¡¯m in a bit of a hurry. ¡­Aya-chan? I really am sorry. I¡¯ll make sure to listen to you properly later.¡± Could my words not reach her? Was I doomed to remain an idle spectator, helplessly watching her die? Never. I squeezed out the words, in a voice that sounded much like a mosquito¡¯s buzzing. ¡°I¡¯ll do anything¡­ so for my sake, please stay at home today.¡± Unable to think of anything, yet somehow squeezing out wisdom I didn¡¯t possess, the answer I had come up with was to persuade her with my own tears. ¡°Mmm?¡± Yuuka was an irritating person, she never did what I wanted her to. She was shameless, a nuisance, she was immature, and she had a weird idea of personal space, always trying to crawl right up to me. But I didn¡¯t want her to die. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Aya-chan, you¡¯re being weird.¡± And I would also be in trouble if she did. With her standing in as my guardian, I¡¯d be at a complete loss if she were to die. ¡°Well, if you insist that much I guess I don¡¯t have a choice.¡± She said while letting out a single sigh. ¡°If I have to stay at home all day today, that means you¡¯ll be coming over. Right, Aya-chan?¡± How much relief did I not feel at those words. The price had been cheap, if that much was enough to keep her from going outside. I thought while walking through the clear air of a May morning. About fifty thousand people end up in traffic accidents in a year in this country. If the population was about 120 million, that meant that the chances of any single person ending up in an accident during a given year was 0.42%. If the average lifespan was eighty years, that meant approximately thirty percent of the population would be involved in an accident at least once in their life. This was the first time I had done the math, but those odds were surprisingly not to be trifled with. I saw the backside of a compact car leaving its driveway and prayed for safe driving. You, your parents, or your grandparents. One of you will either end up in or cause a traffic accident. If not, you should consider yourself very lucky. People could get run over surprisingly easy. What I had seen yesterday wasn¡¯t such a rare sight. If you don¡¯t like that thought, your options were to pay extra attention to places with a lot of traffic or to repeat the day and pray for your chances. That was the conclusion, simple enough for a grade schooler, that I had arrived at when I reached the apartment Yuuka was renting. She had moved into it right after she graduated university. She was renting a room fifteen minutes away from mine. I hadn¡¯t visited it a single time before, but I had relied on the address written on the new year¡¯s cards she had sent to walk there. I was now greeted by a formal-looking concrete building equipped with automatic locks. ¡°Morning, come in come in.¡± I heard the voice I had been demanding all night through the intercom. Just hearing her voice was enough to let me completely regain my composure. Was what I had thought, but. ¡°Aya-chan?¡± The moment I saw her that all completely fell apart. ¡°Aya-chan!? Did you want to meet me that much? No, no, that doesn¡¯t make sense. It must be a prank. Don¡¯t try to trick your big sis, alright, Aya-chan? ¡­Ayaka-san? Isn¡¯t this a bit long? You can reveal the trick now. Hey!?¡± She was still alive. I felt at ease in her arms, crying like a child. I cried and cried. She was still alive. She had a proper body temperature, and her warm heart was still beating. That alone made me happy, that alone felt painful. I sobbed while gripping and crumpling the cloth of her cutsew-clad back. ¡°Aah, you can be such a handful.¡± Yuuka silently watched over me. I was undoubtedly quite the disgrace. Upset, sobbing. I had never let anyone else see me like this. But there wasn¡¯t anything I could do about that. Because she was still alive. Yuuka patiently waited for her cousin, wailing early in the morning, to calm down. Ten minutes, even fifteen. Thank you for being alive. Just as I thought that¡­ ¡°Sniff, sniff. You smell good.¡± ¡°Hey.¡± It turned out that people who smell your neck while you¡¯re crying also exist. I tried to object, still with tears in my voice, and let go. But at some point she had managed to get a tight grip. ¡°Looks like you feel kind of better.¡± ¡°Stop saying stupid things and let me go instea¡­ uaaaa¡± ¡°I wonder if you know what coming over to your big sis¡¯s room means, especially when she happens to live on her own.¡± While still being hugged, I walloped her back. What was she, an idiot? ¡°Aya-chan, you just said that you would do anything, didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t remember such ancient history.¡± She was really quite the unfortunate adult. Still grasping Yuuka¡¯s back while she was acting the same as usual, I was halfway surprised. But I also expressed my gratitude. In my own heart only. I could without any trace of sarcasm say that the living room I was guided to was tastefully decorated. So much that I wouldn¡¯t have minded me if we swapped rooms. It got plenty of sun, and when one of the big windows was opened the cool May air came rushing in. There was a sideboard with legs at the back of the room, with all kinds of interesting-looking things lined up on it. There was also a potted corn plant, wonderful enough that I had to stare at it for a while. I decided to store one of those inside a room in my mind for healing purposes. ¡°So, what the heck is up.¡± Steam rose from two coffee cups placed on a low table. We sat down next to each other on the sofa, and I carried the dark brown liquid to my mouth. It made me feel refreshingly calm. ¡°You died.¡± ¡°I¡¯m alive, but, I¡¯m already dead? Am I a ghost? Or are you perhaps talking about¡­ ¡®yesterday¡¯?¡± I nodded. One, small, nod. ¡°Really? You¡¯re serious? You¡¯re not messing with me?¡± Yuuka¡¯s face as she uttered her fearful inquiry was somewhat pale. I didn¡¯t have the kind of charming personality where I¡¯d start sobbing just to set up a prank. Yuuka¡¯s face was pale precisely because she knew that. ¡°It¡¯s the truth. You got hit by a passenger car on top of the sidewalk just in front of that nearby elementary school, and got blown away stupidly far. It looked like such a horrible way to die that it could make someone start to wonder if you couldn¡¯t have chosen a slightly prettier way to die. And turns out there actually was something inside your head after all.¡± ¡°Wo-wow.¡± The two of us sat facing each other, both with gloomy expressions on our faces. Just as if we were sharing our thoughts about a horror movie. There was nothing decent left for a dying person, for a person that had died. ¡°So tomorrow¡­ well, when it becomes the twenty-fourth of May, how many out of how many is the chances I won¡¯t be among the living?¡± That¡¯s what it came down to. If Yuuka only had ended up in an accident ¡°yesterday¡±, the risk of the worst outcome would just be one in sixth. The worst case scenario would have been if the same course of events had happened the times I wasn¡¯t watching, and in that case the risk of her dying would be five in six. With the risk being 83%, those were not numbers where it was safe to expect her to come out of it safely. I should have tried to find the resolve to maybe end up being parted from Yuuka through death on every twenty-third. To make the shock that could come tomorrow just a little softer. ¡°I understand.¡± That¡¯s sad, Yuuka also whispered as if she was talking about some other person. It probably didn¡¯t feel real. Events that had happened on other days labeled with the same date. To normal people those were basically the same kind of thing as dreams from last night. To witches they were about halfway prophetic dreams though. ¡°But you know, I wonder what would happen if you died.¡±, Yuuka said while looking like she had thought of something interesting. She already seemed completely back on her feet. She had changed attitude much too fast for me to keep up. ¡°Eh¡­?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to look so surprised.¡± Somehow she had startled me. ¡°Are you fine with it?¡± ¡°With maybe dying tomorrow? I¡¯m not fine with it. But wouldn¡¯t it be wasteful to spend today as if I already had died?¡± Yuuka looked dazzling as she declared those words with an invigorating smile, that made me picture a bright and clear blue sky. ¡°After all, I have you with me on what might turn out to be the last day of my life, Aya-chan.¡± Yuuka stared into the black liquid inside her coffee cup, holding the cup as if trying to envelop it. But it would have been fine if she had hated me for it. If she had shouted at me, asking why I had to tell her, I think I wouldn¡¯t have complained. If she hadn¡¯t known she would have used the last day of her life to reunite with old friends. There was a contrast to the way me and her treated the same approaching death. The twenty-three year old woman was even facing it with resolution, while the witch and self-proclaimed seventy-five year old was moping and sobbing. It was clear which one of us was the adult, wasn¡¯t it? ¡°Anyway, Aya-chan, do you think that you¡¯re the only one that won¡¯t die? If you get unlucky even you will die someday.¡± I was just barely able to put on a brave face and give a sarcastic response. ¡°As long as I don¡¯t have to die the way you do.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really want to die another time either though.¡± Yuuka said as if she could remember it. Yuuka snorted and we laughed a little. Since I already was here anyway, I figured I¡¯d try thinking about what Yuuka had said. What I had witnessed had been Yuuka¡¯s death on the twenty-third of May E. But what if I had been the one to get run over? Let¡¯s consider that. I would be crossing the road, only to get assaulted by a sudden shock. With how sudden it would be I wouldn¡¯t have time for a safe fall, and crash hard into the asphalt. Would I wake up on the morning of the twenty-third of May F before I even had time to feel a chill¡­? I thought that was probably, definitely, what would happen. For better or worse other ¡°todays¡± didn¡¯t have any effect on the current today. I didn¡¯t know how many times a day could be repeated, but if they happened I¡¯d probably be able to welcome the twenty-third of May G and H as well. But what would happen once the twenty-fourth of May A rolled around? I had no idea. If the twenty-third of May were to be picked, I would no longer be of this world and as such be unable to greet the next morning. Something bothered me. If I had been the one to die yesterday, and the day was chosen, I wouldn¡¯t wake up tomorrow. It kind of made sense, but it also kind of didn¡¯t. How would I be able to know that I never had woken up again? Was what it came down to, so paradoxically, maybe a day where I died actually couldn¡¯t be chosen after all. I wasn¡¯t thinking of actually trying it, though. Obviously not. Something that scary¡­ ¡°That face you¡¯re making tells me all I need to know. You really wouldn¡¯t die. Unfaaair.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not unfair, I mean, I¡¯m currently trying to do what I can so you maybe won¡¯t have to die.¡± ¡°My saviour.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. Give me your gratitude.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll dedicate my whole life to paying you back. In sickness and in health, till¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s heavy¡­¡± Yuuka leaned against me. She was slightly heavy. Entrusted with her bodyweight, I could feel the warmth radiating from her. Normally I would have expected this to be irritating, but for some reason I was unbearably happy. Just talking always seemed to make her happy. A trivial thought crossed my mind, curiosity showing its face. I would have wanted to force out more different expressions from her, a variety of them. ¡°Hey, Aya-chan, I¡¯ve been telling you I love you for five years now.¡± ¡°True. I hope you¡¯ll get tired of it soon.¡± ¡°Why do you keep refusing me, even though I¡¯ve kept proposing to you for five years?¡± ¡°It¡¯s just five years.¡± For a witch who had lived for seventy-five years that was basically the same as yesterday. In fact I could actually remember it like it had happened yesterday. The beaming smile of the pervert that had tried to court a ten year old elementary school student. ¡°But in your time that would be as much as twenty-five years, Aya-chan.¡± A truth terrifying enough to make me shudder. I had already lived for about as long as a whole normal lifetime, with surprisingly little changing. And Yuuka had been by my side for a third of it. Aside from my parents, she was the person I had spent the most time with. And there was a difference of over twenty times compared to the person I had spent the fourth most time with. My feet felt slightly lighter as I realised. But human relationships are not just time¡­ ¡°That¡¯s¡­.. true.¡± ¡°See, I¡¯ve been saying it for twenty-five years now, right? At this point it¡¯s basically a de facto marriage, isn¡¯t it? Twenty-five years would be a silver anniversary. And Aya-chan, you¡¯re kind of small so if you just stay quiet you¡¯re princess-like. This being the Heian era, at this point we are already in essence a married couple living apart.¡± No, your way of thinking is just strange. ¡°You¡¯re the worst. Now I¡¯ll probably never be able to enjoy reading Genji again. Because when I try to picture Hikari Genji¡¯s face I¡¯m just going to see yours.¡± ¡°Well, then you¡¯re young Murasaki, Aya-chan. Let us get married. A young bride of a ripe fifteen years! And you really smell good, sniff, haa haa haa!¡± She was irritating enough that I thought one of the blood vessels near my temple would maybe end up bursting. I wanted to slap her, but I decided to forgive her for today. It¡¯d be a bother if I hit her in a bad spot and she ended up dying. But at least I could put all I had into spoiling the mood for the woman who was taking several deep breaths, ecstatically enjoying the air in the room. ¡°There¡¯s a seventy-five years old grandma inside this body, so please stop doing that.¡± I couldn¡¯t change what had happened. At best I could lower the chances of it getting ¡°chosen¡±. I spent the whole day in my cousin¡¯s room. There was no particular reason I¡¯d want to go outside anyway. We drank tea together and watched movies on online streaming services. We had dinner made from leftovers from her fridge, and I borrowed her bath and sleepwear. As the curtain of night fell, I closed my eyes while listening for Yuuka¡¯s breathing. It seemed like she usually tended to sleep a bit later, but today she went to bed earlier to match me. I always suddenly got sleepy when the clock struck ten in the evening. ¡°Hey, Yuuka, are you awake?¡± A painful silence greeted my ears. The only response I got was the sound of Yuuka¡¯s breathing. ¡°I¡¯m begging you¡­ please, don¡¯t die.¡± If I was in Yuuka¡¯s room when I opened my eyes the next morning, it would all have been fine. In that case I would immediately have known what day was chosen. This one day only, I stayed wide awake. Couldn¡¯t sleep. Bad thoughts kept brazenly running around in my head. At some point, I must have fallen asleep. The Twenty-fourth of May A Yuuka was lucky. She survived the death game of probability, gracefully evading the exceptional end she could have faced. I had thought she was already a goner when I woke up in my own room. Because I had thought she couldn¡¯t have survived if I hadn¡¯t woken up in her room once the twenty-fourth of May came around. I felt like I was grasping at straws, but I tried calling her. The tension left my shoulders as a cheerful voice responded ¡°Wow, I¡¯m happy to get a call from you so early in the morning, Aya-chan¡±. I sat down on the floor with a literal thud and didn¡¯t move for a while. But, it was fine. The worst case scenario I had imagined hadn¡¯t come to pass. That alone made it fine enough. Even then, I would never forget. The warmth of her blood, the softness of her limp body. How I hadn¡¯t felt anything when taking her pulse, how cold her heart must have been. I would always remember. Always, until the day I died. Volume 1 - CH 2 The first time I met her was in my third year of middle school. It was Friday after class, and we had an art assignment due the following week. ¡°Ooh, that¡¯s pretty.¡± ¡°Hamano¡­ Aria-san?¡± Summer, with its huge cumulonimbus clouds, had long since come to an end. As the red and yellow autumn leaves came into full color, students retired from club activities, putting the cultural festival behind them, with every single student diving headfirst into exam frenzy. I remember clearly, how for seven days a week, they hurdled between school, home, prep school, and then school again. As exam material began to take precedence over all else, classes like music and gym became precious times of rest. Most students spent the duration of art class daydreaming or working on something else entirely. It went without saying that no one paid a second thought to art assignments and whatnot. The best art would be featured on the cover of the school¡¯s pamphlet, to be distributed on graduation¡­ heh, how lovely. ¡°Aizawa-san!? Don¡¯t you think so!? It¡¯s so well drawn!¡± The exceptions, who considered exams nothing more than a written test, were myself, and transfer student Hamano Aria. My very first impression of her was small. From a glance, one could easily tell how soft and thin her wavy, blonde hair was. Her skin was pale, her large eyes bordered by nearly white eyebrows, her arms and legs long despite her small stature. She wore the same uniform as me, but I couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine myself as her classmate. ¡°It¡¯s almost like a photograph¡­ No, it¡¯s even prettier than a photo¡­¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Like an ancient shinto priest, who holds dear the months and years that he will nevertheless continue to forget and thus records them in writing, I remember how I drew in an effort to ward away the tedium of ever-repeating days. I was four years old. Still unaccustomed to the preschool whose care I¡¯d been entrusted to, I found friendship in crayons and drawing paper. Shortly after, I would find my knight in shining armor, colored pencils and paint, but for fear of injury or choking hazard, they were prohibited in preschool. But regardless, art was an unforgettable magical spell I had received. Only in the realm of art was I not a monster, but an innocent prodigy. For I merely had to learn a technique a single time before I could replicate it at will. I no longer spent a waking moment idle. With my memory, I could put image on paper with absolution precision and photo-like accuracy. Even the magnificent art of famous painters and artists could not escape me. All it took was one look and I could recall every fine detail of any piece. And to top it all off, I had nearly infinite time to hone my skills. ¡°Where did you learn to paint like that?¡± ¡°Where¡­? Books, I guess. Or art museums?¡± Hamano Aria rushed towards me. She closed in, her perfectly round eyes sparkling. Her face nearly touched the sketchbook as she stared at it intently, seemingly forgetting about me, the classroom, and anything else in the world. She must really like the drawing, I remember thinking. Along with the fact that she was way too passionate. ¡°So you self-studied, huh? Who was your teacher?¡± ¡°Um, Leonardo Da Vinci?¡± ¡°I meant a living person.¡± I couldn¡¯t claim to call anyone my teacher. But if I was forced to say, it would be the classics, and then, myself. I was alive. Indeed, if you put a hand to my chest, you would feel the continual rhythm of my heartbeat. However, there wasn¡¯t a human there. I was far too different from what one might consider human. From what I saw, to the air I breathed, to my perception of time. And of course, my sentiments about life and death simply couldn¡¯t align with others¡¯¡­ I thought. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t really know.¡± ¡°Hmm, I see.¡± Her japanese was clumsy and awkward, as if it were some artificial product, but combined with her foreign doll-like appearance, it somehow seemed to fit perfectly in place. ¡°Can you take a look at my sketch too?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± The sketchbook she handed to me contained a painting of a courtyard, the natural formations and landscape captured vividly in the sketch. I could tell that she was undoubtedly one of the best artists in our grade. ¡°I studied in Marseille and Dakar.¡± I thought about what this small artist¡¯s life would have been like for her to reach this point. It probably started even before Marseille. She¡¯d received her first paintbrush in a country boasting the likes of Monticelli and Cezanne, then continued her studies in Dakar. I wasn¡¯t so naive to believe that we¡¯d become friends or anything. After all, I already knew. That today wouldn¡¯t be chosen. ¡°I suppose you like art, Hamano-san.¡± ¡°Of course!¡± As I returned her sketchbook, I chose my next words carefully. ¡°I think it¡¯s a really thorough and pretty drawing.¡± Suppressing the feelings of excitement at the chance of talking to this girl who¡¯d voluntarily reached out to me, I replied briefly and dispassionately, taking great care to keep my voice low and composed. ¡°Yours is also really good, Aizawa-san! I can¡¯t wait to see the finished painting! Can you show it to me when it¡¯s done?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°Promise! Because it¡¯ll be a match!¡± ¡°A match?¡± ¡°Yup, a contest.¡± At that time, I briefly wondered if she was the type who hated to lose, but I just as quickly rejected that notion, given our interaction so far. Actually, I considered myself quite the sore loser, but as it turns out, Hamano was leagues above me. The next day, I met Hamano Aria for the first time a second time. After taking a single look at my painting, she froze, utterly motionless. ¡°What the hell¡­ is this¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re transfer student Hamano-san, right? Nice to meet you.¡± I watched her reaction carefully. ¡°Is this¡­ for the art assignment¡­?¡± Would she say how much she liked it? And afterwards, maybe we¡¯d be able to discuss our favorite works of art. For the past day, I¡¯d done nothing but imagine the sweet possibilities that might unfold, and this was just a small fraction of my fantasies. ¡°Why would you go so far for a regular school art assignment!? That¡¯s obviously cheating!¡± My painting had lit a violent fury inside Hamano. Her eyes boiled with a mix of disgust, fear, and contempt. She¡¯d been abruptly confronted with my final, finished work without seeing the in-between sketch. To Hamano, it must¡¯ve seemed like nothing short of magic. As if I had swallowed a brick, I stiffened. No words came out of my mouth, as I could only follow her retreating figure with my eyes. There was nothing I could say. Wasn¡¯t she the one who had said that she was waiting for the finished painting? It wasn¡¯t my fault. In fact, I¡¯d only been in a rush to finish because of her words. It had all been for her. It wasn¡¯t my fault. No matter how many times I told myself that, I never felt any better. Maybe Hamano Aria was also alone. Due to her eye-catching appearance, Hamano was always surrounded by people. In spite of that, she stood in isolation. Though she¡¯d technically returned to her mother country, much of her broken japanese was unintelligible, and meaning was often lost among her words. Her only lifeline was in art. The paintbrush she¡¯d received in her western upbringing had rescued Hamano. It was undoubtedly art that had supported and given her the courage and self-confidence to take a step forward. As for me, if only someone would recognize me¡­ Thoughts of At the very least, just let the day where I first met Hamano be chosen continued to echo through my mind. Even though I well knew that days like that would never be chosen. I already was aware that in such respects, I was unlucky. But for the day where Hamano had viciously berated me to be chosen¡­ the endlessly cruel world was mocking me. More than a thousand days had passed since that day, yet the excruciating pain of that memory hadn¡¯t diminished one bit. The Eighteenth of June D ¡°Aizawa-san?¡± Hearing my name, I turned around only to find Inaba-san¡¯s large eyes staring at me. My heart pounded slightly at her closeness. I deliberately pretended to stretched my back, putting a more comfortable distance between us. I¡¯d probably been spacing out. Remembering an old history, I¡¯d forgotten about where I was. The alarming vividness of my memories was part of the problem. At some point, class had ended, and I was the only one still in the classroom. ¡°I apologize if it was just my imagination,¡± said Inaba-san. She reached out towards me with her right hand. Instinctively, I reached out my own hand and took it, but I wasn¡¯t sure what to with it. ¡°What was?¡± ¡°Aizawa-san, just then, you looked lonely.¡± Our linked hands swayed gently. Unable to meet her gaze, I averted my eyes towards the overcast, stormy sky outside the window. In a quiet voice, I lied. ¡°It was your imagination.¡± Her fingers curled up around mine. Her clumsy fingertips, as if searching for something to cling to, pressed against my hand. ¡°I see. I¡¯m glad it was just my imagination.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ thanks.¡± I became distinctly aware of the gentle silence that permeated the normally noisy classroom, broken only by the patter of rain. Inaba-san, always surrounded by others, had remained here for my sake. With eyes that seemed as if they could see through just about anyone and anything, she gracefully let my bluff pass. Words were unnecessary. Her squeezing my hand, sitting next to me, that was far more than enough. Hamano was the same as me. The completed painting had obliterated the axle supporting her heart. A painting that shouldn¡¯t exist in both its speed and precision. For a girl who had total faith in her supremacy, the situation¡¯s impossibility had shattered her pride beyond repair. It was a reality made possible only by my curse of unforgetfulness. A curse where I couldn¡¯t forget the slightest detail of any scene. If I, by some chance, drew something flawlessly, I would remember the exact movement of my hand and could execute that same technique over and over. Nor would I ever make the same mistake twice. A perfect memory. If just once, had my parents recognized my skill, surely I would have been able to confront my curse. If either one of them had said to me, just once, ¡®That¡¯s amazing, Ayaka,¡¯ then surely I would have found a blessing in my curse. Surely that one phrase would have given me the courage to take a step forward. Surely I would have been able live with my chest puffed out in pride. The Twenty-Second of June A It was the 72nd day of the rainy season. In the curriculum of Konohana High School, one could choose between music, calligraphy, and art for fine arts classes. Currently, Inaba-san I sat side by side in the courtyard, our knees touching, painting hydrangeas. The flower symbolized the rainy season, and its shape and meaning were easy to distinguish, making it a valuable specimen to draw. Its brilliant colors were all too unforgettable. When the art teacher had instructed us to choose and paint something from our school, I couldn¡¯t imagine choosing anything but this flower. Unfortunately, the dark, cloudy sky meant chilly weather, but other than that, I thoroughly enjoyed the time spent with Inaba-san, just the two of us talking and painting. It seemed today would be another fun day. Or rather, it already was. ¡°Recently, my father keeps telling me stuff like I should grow up already or stop being so obstinate¡­ Aizawa-san, do your parents say anything like that?¡± Inaba-san seemed to be going through a mild rebellious phase, but even amidst her complaints, her tone was tinged with love and dependence toward her father. I felt charmed, and at the same time, the smallest twinge of jealousy. ¡°Not really. My parents are pretty laissez-faire.¡± I lived right next to my parents, but it¡¯d already been several years since I¡¯d seen their faces. ¡°What does your father do, Aizawa-san?¡± ¡°Mine? He¡¯s just a teacher. At a school.¡± ¡°A teacher! Amazing! Does he help you with studies and stuff?¡± ¡°N-no. We don¡¯t really talk to each other.¡± Crap. I was overjoyed that Inaba-san took interest in me and things about me, but I desperately wanted to avoid treading on the topic of my parents. I didn¡¯t know anything about them. Neither their field of expertise, nor about the students they taught. At home, they¡¯d never spoken about their jobs, nor, after I¡¯d left the house, had I ever made an attempt to find out. Was it strange, that I knew nothing about my parents¡¯ jobs, and was unable to answer? Or perhaps it was normal for children to take no interest in their parents lives. I didn¡¯t know. But I knew I was strange. For the time being though, I had to change the subject. ¡°Do you talk with your father often, Inaba-san?¡± ¡°Yeah. Yesterday, he was scolding me for staying up watching T.V. and stuff, but it was only 12! And he¡¯s the one who stays up lounging around until 1 am!¡± Admittedly, midnight was considerably late for a high schooler, in my opinion. Apparently, having been scolded, Inaba-san had grudgingly gone to bed earlier than usual. As the thought crossed my mind that her father was indeed rather strict, another thought surfaced- that Inaba-san, much like me, hid her feelings of unhappiness and dissatisfaction deep within her heart, where they swirled and surged and whirled about without anywhere to go. Much like an octopus frantically trying to escape from a predator by expelling a vague, formless, shapeless black ink, Inaba-san with her pent up emotions, must¡¯ve wanted to expel them somewhere somehow. But how could one rid themselves of a smoke so indistinct that it lacked any physical form? Inaba-san¡¯s father must¡¯ve wanted to tell her that staying up late and oversleeping the next day wasn¡¯t adult-like behavior. Staying up late wasn¡¯t a thing children could do, yet staying up late was also not something adults did. I understood what he was trying to communicate. But during the period of one¡¯s late-teens, one was neither a child nor an adult. You might consider it an age to learn from failures, or perhaps an age where one had to be treated like an adult to become one. ¡°If you think you¡¯re in the right, I think it¡¯s better to get properly angry. Since humans are creatures capable of tolerating small things, and they grow accustomed to things extremely quickly. And after they get accustomed to something, changing becomes really difficult.¡± After my long-winded speech, I failed to catch my breath and nearly ended up choking. I guess it was true that elderly people tended to ramble. At my uncharacteristically lengthy speech, Inaba-san stopped drawing, turning to stare at me with wide eyes. But only for a second. She quickly returned her focus to her half-finished sketch, a small smile forming across her face. ¡°Hehe, I feel like you¡¯re the type of person who never gets angry, so somehow, imagining you getting angry feels kind of strange, Aizawa-san.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the point-¡° I too had been angry at the start. Why was I the only one born with this abnormality? Whether my life would be fun or boring, whether I¡¯d want to forget or not, I simply wanted an innocent life where eventually, everything would be forgotten. How I would welcome such a life, where memories I vowed to never forget would dull and fade with passing time, and nights I would spend crying, knowing that I couldn¡¯t prevent the loss of my precious recollections. When I realized that I was the sole individual who experienced the world differently, I felt as if I¡¯d been tricked by the entire world. I had been sick with anger, feeling nothing but anger, feeling angry alone. When I despaired, I remembered that anger, letting it flare up inside me. I was angry, then I grew weary of anger, and that¡¯s when I gave up. I had been angry, angry that I¡¯d been given time magnitudes higher than was necessary. But this world wouldn¡¯t remember 4/5¡¯s of my anger. Underneath the thick crust of resignation that had formed over my heart was a heavy sedimentation deposit of the ashes of my anger. That was the current me. As our paintings steadily progressed, our conversation began to die down. I briefly shifted my gaze away from the flower and took a fleeting glance at Inaba-san¡¯s sketchbook, where vivid hydrangeas grew alongside large blades of grass. The graceful movements of her fingers, supported by her slender wrists, produced beautiful lines that danced across the page. Her innocent hydrangea flowers were vibrant and filled with life. Who could have known how brightly these flowers sparkled in her eyes, flowers that commuting students passed by daily without a second glance? By coincidence, I had discovered it, and I found it irresistibly radiant. Alas. Neither enjoyable moments nor peaceful moments were eternal. From behind us, I heard soft footsteps, then a harsh shadow of a single person fell over us. ¡°What a empty painting! It¡¯s like an elementary schooler drew it!¡± I didn¡¯t even need to think about who it was. I knew from the voice alone. Hamano Aria¡­ Everything about her appearance was cute, from her dress to her features, yet her lips were drawn into a tight frown, not even bothering to hide her radiating hostility. I hadn¡¯t forgotten. That this girl utterly despised me. It was a face I truly dreaded to see. ¡°Are you planning to submit that as your final painting?¡± The painting peeking out of the sketchbook tucked under Hamano¡¯s arm was certainly well drawn. The technique was there, and she¡¯d chosen a lofty scene to boot. It was a magnificent image of the school building as viewed from the school gates. A spectacular work of art that demanded closer inspection. However, after her scathing remarks, I wasn¡¯t about to gush praise for her art. Nor was she expecting any. Rather, perhaps she was picking a fight¡­? My frustration built as my precious time with Inada-san dissipated in front of my very eyes. But at the same time, I was equal parts wary. Why had Hamano come here? I remained alert, studying her carefully. But nothing could have prepared me for her next words. ¡°-Inaba-san.¡± ¡°What?¡± Had she not been talking to me? I froze. Like a goldfish out of water, I felt my lips disgracefully flapping open and closed. My mind turned completely blank. Where my voice should have been, there was nothing but emptiness. ¡°But I think it¡¯s a perfect fit someone as ordinary as you.¡± Ah. So that was it. She hated me. So she was intentionally targeting the person by my side. Because that way, she could hurt me. I didn¡¯t understand others¡¯ emotions well, but this much I knew. ¡°It¡¯s a masterpiece no matter how you look at it.¡± Hot anger rushed to my head, thawing my frozen limbs. I swiftly rebutted her words. ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t think. It doesn¡¯t look that way to me.¡± Her reply came just as swift. ¡°You must be mistaken. I have quite the discerning eye when it comes to art, you see.¡± All the while, Inada-san looked completely crestfallen. She hadn¡¯t done anything wrong. I, sitting next to her, with my hopelessly thin memory, knew that. Ah but still. Why did Hamano have to be here? Obviously, she went to the same school as me, and advanced grades alongside me, but why did she have to suddenly barge in? And why now? At least if I was alone¡­ My thoughts kept turning negative. I was fed up and frustrated, both with the miserable-looking Inaba-san and the pretentious Hamano, and just about everything else. I had to drive Hamano away before she ran her mouth again. ¡°That¡¯s a lovely drawing.¡± As I spoke those words, I turned my body away from Hamano, throwing out those words of praise while keeping ¡®that¡¯ ambiguous. ¡°Mind if I take a closer look?¡± Bewilderment surfaced on Hamano¡¯s face. Probably due to my sudden change of subject despite traces of anger still clearly evident in my expression. It was Hamano¡¯s turn to be wary. However, there are some people in society whose craving for attention surpasses their self-control. Hamano was undoubtedly one of those people. And as it turns out, my appraisal was spot on. ¡°H-here you go.¡± In an instant, all her previous haughtiness vanished. Hamano reached out timidly to hand me her sketchbook. She¡¯d just fallen for this wicked witch¡¯s trap. ¡°Hehe. I wasn¡¯t talking to you though.¡± I forced a scornful laugh. I was only half acting. Hamano Aria¡¯s cheeks turned bright red. ¡°Wha-¡° I wasn¡¯t planning on turning this into a pointless back-and-forth. I¡¯d end it with one line. ¡°You¡¯re way too self-conscious, aren¡¯t you?¡± Hamano Aria was speechless. I called out to Inaba-san to flaunt my point. ¡°So, do you mind if I take a look? Inaba-san.¡± What a cute expression Hamano-san was wearing! You intentionally messed with a witch who can¡¯t deal with personal relationships, and this is what you get! I wonder if she was the type of person to bury her face in her pillow late at night and scream in embarrassment. ¡°I-I-I¡¯ll remember this, idiot-!¡± Worry not. Even if you one day forget, I could never possibly forget about that laughable parting threat which sounded more like a throwaway joke than anything else. I watched her departing figure apathetically, then turned back to Inaba-san. Noticing me, she put on a forced smile, as if trying to hide her feelings. She clutched her sketchbook tightly in her arms, almost embracing it. It seemed that she wasn¡¯t going to show me her painting. My precious time wasn¡¯t going to come back. At some point, it started to rain. We quickly evacuated the courtyard and fled under the eaves near an entrance, silently watching the frothing sprays of rain. On that early summer day, my feet frigid and damp, I concealed the smoldering flames of revenge beneath my summer clothes. As I stood under the eaves, shivering in the biting cold, I silently thanked the rain. Because without it, those flames would have spread like wildfire. Incidentally, I wonder how many tens of years it¡¯d been since I¡¯d snapped like that. The Twenty-Second of June D Three days had passed since the twenty-second of June A, and it was now the twenty-second of June D. The weather was overcast today as well. Obviously. Because today was a repeat of yesterday. In preparation for the rain, I wore a cardigan over my summer clothes. I hated the cold. Inaba-san¡¯s eyes were opened wide, as if to say that she had seen something unexpected. ¡°Are you wearing that ¡¯cause it¡¯s going to rain soon?¡± ¡°Deja vu again?¡± ¡°Yeah. Something like that.¡± Her eyebrows knit together as she tilted her head in a cute fashion. I wish I didn¡¯t know. I wish I didn¡¯t know that today was the fourth day. I wish I didn¡¯t know about the previous todays, which I had studied to no end over and over again for the sake of today. Like the first day, we took up position in the courtyard and began our painting. However, this was the fourth time already, and I¡¯d also prepared from the second and third days as well, so as long as the same subject was chosen, I easily completed it much faster than the first day. I couldn¡¯t let Inaba-san know that I¡¯d already finished though, and with so much extra time on my hands, I found myself staring at Inaba-san¡¯s profile. A serious expression stretched over her shapely features, giving off the air of a dignified prince. Her skin was lucious and smooth, and the beautiful bridge of her nose separated the two sides of her face, creating two separate worlds¡­ perhaps that might¡¯ve been too poetic, but nonetheless, that was the only way to describe the extent of my captivation. Inaba-san turned towards me. Very clearly suspicious of my stare. ¡°Wh-what is it? It¡¯s embarrassing when you stare like that.¡± ¡°S-sorry.¡± I reflexively looked away. So cute. I tried to conjure up her profile within my mind, only to feel a condemning pressure from the blush spreading across my cheeks and a tightening in my chest. I¡¯d seen the forbidden. My heart is right here, I fiercely insisted, and it felt a little painful, but a pain not entirely disagreeable. I knew instinctively, because right now, I was in utter bliss. That right now, I was at the very top of a roller coaster ride. ¡°What a mediocre painting.¡± There it was. Each time, Hamano Aria passed by here when her work was done. And each time, seeing me, she couldn¡¯t help but ridicule me. Today though, I was prepared. ¡°That¡¯s a lovely painting.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± I pointed to Hamano¡¯s sketchbook. The fresh, eye-catching violet of the iris flowers shone brightly, supported by the slightly dulled colors of the flowers around it, enhancing and pushing the iris flowers to the forefront. Hmm, so that¡¯s the subject she¡¯d chosen ¡®today.¡¯ ¡°T-thanks.¡± It seemed like she¡¯d grown accustomed to receiving praise. Apparently, even a haughty, insolent girl like her could blush. Not that I cared. ¡°I mean, just look at those colors. It¡¯s hard to believe that someone like you could draw such bold art.¡± Hamano reacted to my poisonous words as if she¡¯d been slapped. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ what do you mean¡­¡± ¡°Here. Strange, isn¡¯t it? Is yours a photocopy? What a well-done illusion.¡± I flipped through one page of my own sketchbook and showed it to her. It was the exact same as her painting, an identical copy. ¡°W-what, is this¡­¡± The blood drained from Hamano¡¯s face. Just try accusing me of cheating, I gloated internally. I assure you that I haven¡¯t moved a single step from this place. I¡¯ve been here this entire time, right next to Inaba-san so I can hold her hand. Not that I¡¯d been holding it, though. ¡°Aizawa-san.. how¡­ you¡¯ve been sitting here this whole time¡­¡± ¡°Hm. I decided to draw something different, I suppose¡­¡± Hamano left, and after a short while, returned with a painting depicting koi fish swimming in a pond. A beautiful page, the ripples of water seeming to glide across the pond¡¯s transparent surface. Even I was impressed at how she painted it in such a short time. She¡¯d even deliberately went all the way to the park next to the school where the pond was. Wordlessly, I flipped to the second page of my sketchbook. Hamano was gaped. She stood dumfounded, motionless. Her expression was filled with disbelief. She didn¡¯t understand. But there was nothing to understand. Not for a human who had lived through today merely once. It was simple. I had followed Hamano Aria around ¡®today,¡¯ pretended to walk past her, and stole her sketchbook. All I need was a single glance. That was plenty enough. My memory was photographic. When I woke up ¡®this morning,¡¯ I¡¯d replicated her painting before going to school. Waking up early wasn¡¯t particularly difficult for me, and the painting was created by an absolute memory. One couldn¡¯t get superior results if they traced the original. Nor did the technique pose a problem. I hadn¡¯t let any of the techniques I¡¯d learned grow rusty. As long as I had the time and the budget, I could flawlessly recreate any famous painting. And in this case, both my budget, and of course, my time, were plenty. This was the revenge I¡¯d chosen¡­ Ducks on a lake, the school building as viewed from the school gates, the scene of a pond and a gazebo¡­ I¡¯d investigated anything that Hamano Aria might draw, and I¡¯d anticipated everything correctly. Revenge of a painting by a painting. I handed a sheaf of paintings to the speechless Hamano. ¡°You did a really nice job.¡± All copies, of course. All of subjects Hamano had chosen, painted in her exact style. From the most minute of brushstrokes to the perspective, from field of view to the brush and paint manufacturers, I hadn¡¯t overlooked a single detail anywhere. Nor had I been worried about time. Naturally, I could only use paintings I painted today, meaning that I had only a few hours to complete everything. However, as much as I hated repeating the same procedure over and over again, that was also my greatest strength. For someone like me, whose mind and body could never forget the endless amounts of grueling practice they¡¯d undergone, I could easily produce this degree of art within an hour. ¡°How¡¯d you manage it? When did you have time to photocopy it all?¡± At my vicious tone, tears began to form at the corners of Hamano¡¯s eyes. She faltered, completely at a loss. Clearly, I¡¯d taken it too far, but that thought never occurred to me¡­ or at least, I tried my best to push that thought out of my mind. ¡°I-I¡­ didn¡¯t do anything wrong. I didn¡¯t do anything wrong.¡± ¡°Who knows.¡± Ahh. I was taking out my anger on her. In retaliation for the insults to my precious friend, I was now taking out my anger on a completely different person wearing the same face as the perpetrator in an effort to make myself feel better. I¡¯d initially only intended on mocking her slightly, yet ended up inflicting unbearable wounds on today¡¯s Hamano. ¡°Why¡­ why¡­ how did you¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I want to ask.¡± ¡°Um, Aizawa-san, isn¡¯t that enough?¡± Came Inaba-san¡¯s voice. But even her words didn¡¯t reach me. ¡°Hey, Hamano-san. Do you like art?¡± ¡°Of¡­ of course, I do.¡± ¡°Oh? That¡¯s unexpected. I thought that surely someone must¡¯ve been forcing to you draw. ¡®Cause for someone who claims to like drawing, going this far is, well-¡° Today¡¯s Inaba-san wouldn¡¯t know why I was upset. I didn¡¯t know why either. I never knew I could get so angry on behalf of someone else, never imagined that Inaba-san being ridiculed could cause my heart this much pain. And in my rage, I had forgotten the fatal difference between the others, whether it be Hamano-san or Inaba-san, and myself. That¡¯s why, with sparks dancing between my eyes, it finally dawned on me. That while the others were human, I was nothing more than a filthy witch. When I opened my mouth again, no sound came out. From the sharp sensation on my cheek, I knew I¡¯d been slapped, and I knew who¡¯d slapped me, and the words about to leave my mouth suddenly reversed direction, pushing with them the flames of my anger, until my throat caught fire and burned. ¡°Ah.¡± ¡°Stop already. You¡¯re hurting her. She¡¯s crying.¡± Only now did I realize how foolish I¡¯d been. I¡¯d made a mistake. Inaba-san¡¯s lips were drawn together, her beautiful eyebrows knit together forming a complicated expression. There was anger, there was sadness, there was disappointment. I trembled, confronted by the reality that I had made the compassionate, kind-hearted Inaba-san angry. Even if I regretted my actions, it was too late. My actions couldn¡¯t be chalked up to just poking fun at someone else¡­ The instant I realized that, my slapped cheek began to burn with dull pain. I felt it swell hotly with shame. ¡°Hamano-san, are you okay?¡± But rejecting Inaba-san even as she tried to comfort her, Hamano Aria fled. As if fleeing a monster. ¡°That¡¯s not like you, Aizawa-san¡­ You can¡¯t do stuff like that.¡± Sharp disappointment dripped from her voice as she rebuked me. Was there anything I could say? Of course not. My actions had merely been an attempt at distracting myself. Like a child, I¡¯d touted ¡®revenge for an injustice¡¯ as an excuse to use Hamano as a sandbag, deluding myself into believing my actions to be morally justified no matter how many times I punched and kicked her. Inaba-san dashed towards the school, leaving me and my lack of response behind. Abandoned, my cheeks burning, my vision began to blur. How I longed to cry, but I clenched my teeth and stopped myself. What right did I have to cry like a child? I knew my place. I wasn¡¯t so shameless that I¡¯d let myself cry here. Eventually, beneath the rainy sky, the hydrangea flowers began to flutter and dance as droplets of rain sailed past them, yet I didn¡¯t move a single inch. I stared off into space as I became drenched head to toe. I don¡¯t remember how I ended up in the classroom after that¡­ Somehow, it felt like a convenient lapse of memory, because there was no way I could¡¯ve made it by myself. My mind was in a haze for the entirety of homeroom and I took no notice of the conversations around me. Class was dismissed, and I trudged miserably home. I felt utterly disconnected with reality. The events today felt like a single, flimsy piece of paper. As if foolishly trying to lose myself and flee this reality, wishing I could escape the weight of my problems. ¡°Why¡­¡± When I got home, I sat down and took off my shoes, then stopped moving entirely. Why had this happened to me? The answer was obvious. It was because I wasn¡¯t normal. If only I hadn¡¯t wished for ordinary friends from the beginning. Looking back, it was obviously impossible for someone like me. If only I hadn¡¯t tried to change my fate and continued to live my life enduring each passing day. If only I had resigned myself to a life where only one of five days would come to pass, if only I had allowed my soul to be murdered and sentenced to the excruciatingly slow march of time. If only I had done that, then I could have avoided this pain at the expense of trifling amounts of happiness. For the first time in a long time, I was afraid of tomorrow. If today was chosen, then I doubt I¡¯d be able to face Inaba-san for a long time. Maybe even forever. Maybe every time our eyes would meet, I¡¯d turn away in fear. I wouldn¡¯t be able to stand that. So what could I do? How could I repair our relationship? I didn¡¯t know. ¡­I didn¡¯t know how to repair a relationship. I didn¡¯t know how to apologize. I became aware of how self-degrading my thoughts were becoming. It was at times like these that I felt sick. My insides churned with fear and apprehension. I was sitting in my home, yet I felt like I was drowning, unable to breathe. I couldn¡¯t even gasp for air. My throat felt cold. My legs trembled and strength fled from my body until I could barely control my limbs. My thoughts always turned self-degrading when I felt sick like this. Faster than I imagined, I dashed to the bathroom and emptied out the contents of my mostly empty stomach. My muscles contracted as vomit was violently expelled from my body. Stomach bile burned my throat, tongue, and mouth, and at the same time, burned away my thoughts, clearing my mind. ¡°Hallo~ Yuuka-san has come to visit~¡± From the front door echoed a carefree voice, along with sounds of approaching footsteps. She was probably here for dinner. I suppose it was already that time of day. I found myself neither capable of moving my body nor having the strength to reply. ¡°A-ya-chan? ¡­Aya-chan!? What¡­ what happened!?¡± Yuuka¡¯s voice grew hysteric upon seeing my face. ¡°Your face is so red! And your forehead is burning. I¡¯ll carry you to bed.¡± She nimbly lifted me up, one hand wrapped around under each of my knees, handling me as if I were a child, but I had no energy left to protest. I mean, what was she even doing? Her face was deathly pale. Wasn¡¯t she supposed to say something like, Morning sickness? Ah, guess we¡¯ll have to get married, Aya-chan? Wait, but she was the pale one, not me¡­ Ugh. I felt so pathetic that tears welled up in my eyes. My body was sluggish, my heart had been shattered, and now I was being nursed by someone who mocked me day in day out¡­ Ah. I have to make dinner. That¡¯s why she¡¯d come in the first place. But in spite of that thought, my consciousness was abruptly cut off. The Twenty-Third of June E I¡¯d had an argument with Inaba-san, and as if to add salt to the wound, I¡¯d caught a cold. Five days had passed as I lay bedridden, unable to muster the strength to move. Nor did I mind. Just the thought of doing anything made me extremely weary. I often caught colds with the changing of seasons. Especially since I¡¯d gotten caught up in the freezing rain, this was more or less an inevitable outcome. Though it wasn¡¯t definite proof that the day where I¡¯d been drenched from head to toe had been chosen. I¡¯d always had a weak body. I was small, and ate only about half as much as others. To make matters worse, I hated sports and exercise, so my constitution had never been healthy. But the fundamental reason for my condition was due to, as with many things, my abnormal nature. With the changing of seasons, normal people adapt by changing their clothes when they go outside or adjusting their blankets when they sleep. But in my case, each day seemed to drag on multiplicatively. I found it difficult to judge the changing of seasons or weather. When it suddenly turned cold or hot, most would wear heavier or lighter clothing. But by the time the fourth or fifth iteration of the same day came, my mind would¡¯ve already grown accustomed to the temperature. I wouldn¡¯t notice anything wrong, but unlike my mind, my body would be woefully unprepared for the weather. ¡°Are you feeling okay, Aya-chan? I¡¯m going to wipe your body down, okay?¡± As I lay in bed, the twilight sky reflected in my window, my mind occupied by rambling thoughts, Yuuka came to visit like always. Not once in the past five days had she failed to visit. She was that worried about me. Hehe, that makes me happy¡­ It must¡¯ve been my fever causing such delirious thoughts to cross my mind. I tried to clear my throat. ¡°Sorry, but could you do me a favor and order takeout for dinner?¡± Despite that, my voice came out rough and congested. With her back to the entrance, Yuuka replied. ¡°Aya-chan, that¡¯s the first time you¡¯ve really sounded like an old woman.¡± Leave me alone already. ¡°Your voice sounds terrible. Did you go to the hospital?¡± No, and I¡¯m not going. The problem wasn¡¯t that I didn¡¯t have an insurance card. I wasn¡¯t that irresponsible. Instead of laying in bed and pretending the rest of the world didn¡¯t exist, I could¡¯ve grit my teeth, gone to the hospital, received an IV drip and medicine, then I would¡¯ve been cured. No doubt it would¡¯ve been effective. But today was the fifth day. Hypothetically, if I¡¯d resolved to go to the hospital starting from the first day, I would¡¯ve had to drag myself to the hospital five days in a row. Five days in a row of confronting my thoughts and fears. That was far beyond the limits of my endurance. Besides, I hated hospitals. ¡°I haben¡¯t¡­¡± My voice was nasally, my nose congested, and it hurt to talk. My eyes burned and my mind was trapped in an eternal haze. I¡¯d been like this for five days in a row. My mood was at an all time low. ¡°You¡¯re just going to suffer more if you don¡¯t go, Aya-chan.¡± She sat down on the bed next to me and gently caressed my head. She held my hand. When I was little, I often came down with fevers and each time, my mother would hold my hand. That was before she had come to despise me. Yuuka¡¯s touch, in tandem with my muddled consciousness and my perfect memory, revived that vivid memory, and in my stupor, I couldn¡¯t control the words slipping out of my mouth. ¡°Mother¡­ah.¡± It was completely on reflex. The touch of Yuuka¡¯s hand felt identical to my mother¡¯s. ¡°Aya-chan?¡± I knew. That this hand gingerly holding mine wasn¡¯t my mother¡¯s. But I so desperately wanted it to be, and once the dam broke, there was no stopping the flood. Nothing ever went well, and I couldn¡¯t even seek refuge in my dreams because I didn¡¯t dream, and all the regret and pain of the past few days were still lodged in my creaking heart refusing to leave, and then I felt myself hating myself again enveloped in self-loathing, and that¡¯s when I remembered the fact that I was utterly helpless. And then I realized that that was the hardest thing to accept about myself. In my foggy, clouded mind, I realized the rotten, spoiled nature my true self was composed of. ¡°Thirsty? I¡¯ll get you some water.¡± Her hand slipped from mine- wait, she¡¯s gone? My hand fumbled, reaching out. My desperate fingers begging, pleading, only to grasp air. ¨CNo, please. Don¡¯t leave me by myself. Frantic, my hand stretched forward towards the figure of Yuuka, trying to somehow some way latch onto her blouse. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I couldn¡¯t say it. That I was helpless, so stay with me. But my meaning still got through. ¡°¡­Ah, you¡¯re really something else.¡± Yuuka settled down next to me on the bed once more, stroking my hair and head just like her. She held my hand, just like my mother used to do for me. Without even knowing what I was doing, I brought her hand to my face, pressing it against my cheek. If I kept my eyes closed, it was like I was rewinding time. I longed to return to those days that I could no longer return to. The fever and nostalgia threatened to loose tears from my eyes. Trying to stop them, I forced my eyes open. ¡°Aya-chan, you¡¯re such a spoiled child.¡± Yuuka was grinning. ¡°Ah, Aizawa-san, your fever looks awful.¡± Standing shoulder to shoulder with her was Inaba-san. ¡°Eh.¡± Standing¡­ shoulder to shoulder¡­ was Inaba-san. It was Inaba-san! In my room! With all the remaining strength I could muster, I shoved Yuuka, hard. She let out a soft cry of surprise and tumbled across the room. Inaba-san, at unexpected sight of her classmate¡¯s utter idiocy, stood stock still, at a loss for words. Well, what else was she supposed to do. ¡°Wh-why-whywhywhywhy.¡± My head burned like hell. Not because of my fever, though you could argue that I was feeling feverish for another reason. Taken completely by surprise, I couldn¡¯t suppress the words that flew out of my mouth. I wanted to bury myself in a hole and never come out. ¡°Well, I found a student fidgeting awkwardly outside the gate, so I let her in. I hear her name is Inaba-chan.¡± I caught sight of Yuuka¡¯s face across the room, her tongue stuck out as if mocking me, her entire body ready to burst into laughter. There wasn¡¯t a trace of guilt in her. There was absolutely nothing funny about the situation. I was going to properly punish her after this. ¡°I wasn¡¯t fidgeting. I just got lost.¡± Inaba-san¡¯s voice was unusually stiff compared to normal. Was she perhaps nervous, standing in front of Yuuka? That was possible. Still, that was nonetheless surprising, considering that I¡¯d assumed Inaba-san was the type of person who could speak openly with anyone. ¡°There¡¯s a test next week, and you weren¡¯t in class so I brought the notes but¡­ sorry for barging in when you¡¯re in such a bad condition.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. My condition¡­ it¡¯s bad but I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s fine. More importantly, thanks for the notes.¡± But something was odd¡­ her tone didn¡¯t seem awkward or strained. For someone who¡¯d slapped me and abandoned me, her tone seemed strangely normal. Which meant, that day hadn¡¯t been chosen. The yesterday in which I had maliciously driven Hamano Aria into a corner and made her cry hadn¡¯t been chosen. It hadn¡¯t been chosen. ¡°Ooh, nice books.¡± Inaba-san turned to examine my room. It seemed like she¡¯d been curious from the moment she¡¯d stepped through the door. After all, my room was quite a bizarre spectacle. In one corner were mountains of books stacked on their sides. Some mountains stretched high into the sky, their elevation reaching over fifty centimeters, on the verge of collapsing in on themselves. ¡°They all belong to her.¡± For some reason, Yuuka felt obligated to open her mouth, as she flashed me a peace sign. I didn¡¯t use to have this many books, but I continued to bring them home one after another, calling them ¡®reference material,¡¯ until they accumulated into these massive mountains. Obviously, Yuuka never read a single page, opting instead to ask me to summarize. As for me, who possessed five times the free time of a regular human, I couldn¡¯t help but read the books, and with my inherent memory, I¡¯d never forget the contents. And thus, Yuuka managed to score herself a walking encyclopedia, while I was granted temporary reprieve from my perpetual boredom. A mutually beneficial relationship. ¡°Alrighty. I don¡¯t want to get in the way of you two youngsters, so I¡¯ll go buy dinner. Inaba-chan, are there any foods you don¡¯t like?¡± ¡°Ah, no, I¡¯m the one intruding, so I¡¯ll be on my way soon.¡± From within my futon, I quietly slid open the curtain and glanced out the window. It was already dark outside. ¡°I see. But you know, while I¡¯m not at home, if something happens to Aya-chan it¡¯ll be too late for me to do anything about it. If only someone would watch her while I was gone¡­¡± W-what the hell was this person going on about¡­ hadn¡¯t she left me alone for the entire day? ¡°T-that¡¯s-!¡± Inaba-san sputtered. ¡°Then, see ya!¡± The room returned to its former, quiet self the instant Yuuka left. So quiet that the chirping of a single cricket hiding in some corner of the garden outside became painfully audible. Our relationship wasn¡¯t deep enough where either one of us was comfortable with such a silence. Not yet, at least. A feeling of unpleasantness that I wish I didn¡¯t have to experience, a feeling comprised of loneliness. ¡°Can I see your notes?¡± The asphyxiating atmosphere was too unbearable, and I said the first thing that came to my mind. Inaba-san ruffled through her bag as she spoke. ¡°You can look at them when you get better. Just return them to me when you come back to school. I wrote them on loose-leaf.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll just look at them and return them now.¡± I flipped noisily through her notes, each one fastened to the next by a set of binder rings. I vaguely thought about how this amount of notes was quite copious for a single day of class. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to take pictures?¡± Inaba-san seemed worried about me. ¡°I never forget things I¡¯ve seen already. That¡¯s my disease.¡± It slipped out of my mouth before I realized what I was saying. Would she notice? I faltered, wavering over whether I should explain myself, or claim that I¡¯d misspoke. But in the first place, I didn¡¯t even know today would be chosen, and thinking was such a pain with my raging fever. ¡°You never forget¡­ Wow! That¡¯s not a disease at all. That¡¯s an amazing ability! Aizawa-san, that¡¯s amazing!¡± My hands abruptly lost their grip, and Inaba-san notes fell onto the top of the futon with a quiet thud. My face flushed. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes. It wasn¡¯t because of the fever, but I was extremely feverish. I noticed how close her face was. ¡°That¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve been told that. Thanks.¡± ¡°No problem.¡± ¡°U-um, your hand¡­¡± When had she started holding my hand? I didn¡¯t have to pretend anymore. She knew about my memory. The reason my face flushed was because Inaba-san was holding my hand. ¡°Ah, sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to.¡± She gently let go of my hand, moving instead to stroke my cheek. My heart leapt. ¡°¡­Sorry. Did I hurt you?¡± No. Not in the slightest. What was going on¡­ I was baffled, but a single, large scar that lay across a shallow part of my heart had a clue. ¡°Aizawa-san, I know you¡¯re not the type of person to do that kind of stuff. There must¡¯ve been a reason for it. But still, I¡­¡± My eyes burst open. My breath caught in my throat. I¡¯d stopped dwelling on the events of that day. But the reality which I¡¯d averted my eyes from wouldn¡¯t let me off the hook so easily. That day¡­ had been chosen. The day where I had plotted and connived, the twenty-second of June, where I had driven Hamano Aria into a corner and made her cry, had been chosen. It was always like this. The past that I wanted to erase forever was always chosen. That¡¯s why I couldn¡¯t let down my guard for even a second, but I had, and a single mistake had slipped by, unnoticed. How laughable. Only precious memories would cease to be, deleted from this world. Working hard meant nothing. It was unfair. It was unfair, but no one else in this entire world would experience this unfairness¡­ no one else but me. Ancient feelings of anger that I had given up on long ago suddenly flared to life. Because giving up is the quietest form of anger. ¡°I¡¯ll hear you out, Aizawa-san. Because I believe in you.¡± I¡¯d unmistakably commited a crime, evident for all to see. Yet she would hear me out. I had to tell her everything. About my cursed memory, how I repeated each day again and again, about the reality and experiences I¡¯d faced, everything. I had to say something. Yet I felt that if I let my voice free at this moment, everything would burst out uncontrollably, and so I couldn¡¯t say anything. After all, what right did I have to cry or grieve? I had no intention of letting my tears out, even if I stood on the precipice of death. I was the one at fault, and yet Inaba-san was the one showing me kindness. She¡¯d gone so far as to believe in me. It dawned on me that I¡¯d betrayed that trust, and that truth turned into a deadly poison, its tendrils reaching out and taking hold of my entire body. ¡°Why are you crying?¡± She and I were two vastly different species. A human who could forget, and I who could never forget. There was no common tongue between us. We used the same words, but functioned with different grammar. ¡°Sorry.¡± I could only shake my head. Inaba-san hugged my head to her chest and stroked my hair, as if carefully handling a fragile object. She must¡¯ve gotten the wrong idea. She must¡¯ve believed that she was looking at a cute, innocent high school girl, crying because her good intentions had been wrongfully misunderstood by her dear friend. But she was mistaken. That reality didn¡¯t exist. Because that wasn¡¯t what happened. The truth was far uglier. The truth was a but a comedy, starring a witch with a repulsive heart who hurt another for the sake of her own satisfaction, then flew into rage at the unfairness of the world when the result hadn¡¯t turned out like she imagined. We were too far apart. Inada-san¡¯s chest was extremely warm, without a doubt due to the exceptionally warm heart that lay underneath. The cold-blooded me was different. What excuses could I make, what words could I use to deceive her, what path could I take to swindle Inaba-san, I arrived at the answer instantly. I opened my mouth, ready to spew my ugly lies and spin my deceits, when- ¡°I¡¯m back! I forgot my wallet¡­ Wahhhhhhhhh!!¡± I had been one step away from losing my way completely. Yuuka, catching sight of Inada-san embracing the tear-stained me, had ruined everything beautifully. I suppose I had to punish her thankfully later. The three of us sat around a portion of spaghetti, plum rice porridge, and a bento box which Yuuka had bought from the convenience store, and began to eat. Other than the fact that I¡¯d been forced to eat the spaghetti, it was an otherwise pleasant dinner. Yuuka had defended herself, saying that garlic would make her breath smell bad, but then why buy something you weren¡¯t going to eat in the first place? ¡°Aya-chan, wrap your arms together behind your back.¡± I looked at her dubiously. Was this some sort of digestion exercise to get the blood flowing or to cure my sickness? ¡°Like this?¡± I felt my upper body pushing outwards in reaction. Inaba-san, who sat diagonally across from me, mimicked my pose. What the hell was Yuuka trying to do? Yuuka roved her eyes from me to Inaba-san, then back to me again. ¡°I already figured as much, but your chest is really pitiful, isn¡¯t it?¡± BACOOOOMM!!!! With a sound effect that could surely find its place in a Marvel comic, I delivered a slap straight to Yuuka¡¯s face. I¡¯ve been told that I had quite a long fuse, but if you were going to deliberately incur my wrath, you¡¯d better be prepared for embers to fly. It was the fastest my hand had moved in my entire life. It left a red, hand-sized mark on Yuuka¡¯s face, and was starting to sting. It must¡¯ve stung for the receiver of the slap as well, but Yuuka acted like nothing was wrong. I glared at her. ¡°It¡¯s hereditary.¡± ¡°Oh really? But your mother is quite big, isn¡¯t she?¡± ¡°It¡¯s from my father¡¯s side.¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a hand-shaped mark on your face, so you don¡¯t need to apologize.¡± After a moment of silence, Yuuka spoke up again, sounding like a myna bird. ¡°Sorry, Aya-chan.¡± She was playing a game of chicken with my boiling point¡­ ¡°The next time you apologize, I¡¯m gonna make your face go through the same thing as Gobutori Jiisan¡¯s lump, and you¡¯ll regret being born even more than Momotaro¡¯s demon.¡± (T/N: Traditional japanese folktales- Gobutori Jiisan and Momotaro) ¡°¡­¡± But still, Inaba-san looked so pretty. In my mind, I could still clearly visualize her slim body lines as her upper torso stretched out. ¡°Aya-chan, your face is red.¡± ¡°¡®Cause I¡¯m feverish.¡± ¡°I wonder which feverish you¡¯re feeling.¡± It¡¯d definitely be a punishment afterwards. I chuckled good-humoredly. Obviously, it was but an act. As the conversation continued, I grew more and more agitated, all while wearing my true face behind my back. Inaba-san, perhaps sensing that, forcefully changed the subject, trying to steer it towards more pleasant waters. ¡°By the way, Aizawa-san, your family is really wealthy, aren¡¯t they. You guys have a huge house and everything.¡± It¡¯s not your fault, Inaba-san. But you just steered the ship straight into a land mine. ¡°My parents are the rich ones. Not me.¡± ¡°It¡¯s because Aya-chan¡¯s been disowned.¡± ¡°Ah-¡° Given that I¡¯d hidden from her all this time, Inaba-san reacted instantly, like she¡¯d just heard something she shouldn¡¯t have. ¡°Don¡¯t get the wrong idea. I threw away my parents, not the other way around.¡± Doing everything in my power to make it seem like nothing, I spit out my bluff. ¡°There you go again. I¡¯m fairly certain you got into a fight with your parents then ran away from home.¡± ¡°Yuuka. I swear to god¡­¡± ¡°I dream about it even now. How you and I, living under a single roof-¡° Even after being hit, Yuuka¡¯s spirits couldn¡¯t be dampened. Not when she finally could gush about her ¡®beloved Aya-chan¡¯ to someone else. ¡°You two are cousins, right?¡± Came Inaba-san¡¯s composed voice, checking to make sure. ¡°Yeah.¡± Our parents weren¡¯t particularly close, but Yuuka had come to understand my abnormality even before I did. She¡¯d probably also guessed the circumstances surrounding my banishment. And yet, she never made a fuss about it, and in that respect, she had saved me. ¡°The first time I saw Aya-chan, I was entranced by her beautiful eyes. Ah, it was love at first sight.¡± You realize I was ten years old then, right. ¡°And she¡¯s still just as cute now. Plus she¡¯s even developed some added benefits over time.¡± ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t know anything about you, Aizawa-san.¡± Inaba-san¡¯s words spilled out of her mouth, mixed with tones of sadness and regret. But from the beginning, I¡¯d never intended on telling her about my trifling, insignificant life. Even if it meant that we¡¯d never be able to grow close. Even then. ¡°I bet you could write a whole series about the great war between Aya-chan and her parents,¡± Yuuka said, looking amused. But even if you glorified it, calling it a great war, this war would be the most fruitless war in all of history, without a single victor. ¡°Thinking back on it, you were in such a frenzy to prove yourself, weren¡¯t you, Aya-chan?¡± It was when I still lived with my parents. Our relationship had worsened, on the brink of total collapse, and yet I still had my mind set on earning back their love by showing them my brilliance. With my gift of memory that I¡¯d possessed since birth, I scored perfect score after perfect score on tests in all subjects. I was treated like a child prodigy. I got recommendations to top schools across the nation, and a well-renowned overseas college professor even personally came by to visit me. My parents promptly turned away that professor before he even stepped foot onto our porch. I should¡¯ve recognized it then. I strove to become a beloved daughter that my parents could be proud of. But I should¡¯ve recognized it then, that such a daughter could not possibly fit into the shadow of the child that my parents had wished for. The clock struck eight. Yuuka would always laze around my room until about this time, so I wasn¡¯t particularly surprised that the two were still here. Though the fact that I¡¯d gotten used to Yuuka probably meant I was losing my touch. Still, it was rather late for a high-school girl to be out by herself. Earlier, I¡¯d almost asked Inaba-san if she had to make curfew or not before catching myself, realizing how childish that¡¯d sound. And then almost immediately after, Yuuka went out and posed the same exact question to Inaba-san without a second thought. Inaba-san didn¡¯t seem offended, and, laughing, replied that her curfew had been extended to 9 pm now that she was in high school. I also learned that if her grades fell, she¡¯d promised her parents that she¡¯d attend cram school. Inaba-san provided me company as I lay in bed, talking with me, and from time to time, even holding my hand. Without a doubt, there would never be a single twenty-third of June more fun and pleasant and beautiful than today. Which is why I already knew that today wouldn¡¯t be chosen. The today where I had reconciled with Inaba-san wouldn¡¯t be chosen. The day Inaba-san had first visited my home would cease to exist. At my request, Yuuka agreed to walk Inaba-san to the station. My parting words were selfish, spoken without a single shred of consideration for Inaba-san. ¡°Forget about today. I¡¯m sure you can do it, unlike me.¡± About how you came to visit me, about how you called my curse an amazing ability, about how you tried to believe in me, just forget about everything. Because what right did I have to tell her Don¡¯t forget? What right was there for a witch who abused Inaba-san¡¯s misunderstanding in an attempt at reconciliation all while donning a mask of innocence? The Twenty-Ninth of June G The more I wanted a day to be chosen, the less likely it would be chosen. Business as usual. No surprises that that day hadn¡¯t been chosen. The surprise was instead that when I finally got back to school, for six days in a row, I¡¯d been able to reconcile with Inaba-san. Today was the seventh. I knew today would be no different. The classics teacher passed out a printout summarizing the conjugation forms of auxiliary verbs. As the papers were passed back between rows, Inaba-san, sitting in front of me, passed back a folded, loose-leaf paper craftily hidden underneath the printout. Which girl wouldn¡¯t have instantly recognized the loose-leaf as a note? Concealed inside was a single line of text: Can you stay after class? The words had been identical for seven days in a row. Even though the only things that weren¡¯t supposed to change between days were the weather, and the fact that no matter how many times I thought about it, I always reached the same conclusion. Inaba-san was thinking about me, and went so far as to carefully hide craft secret message for my sake. As I entertained those wild delusions, I refolded the paper along its crease and carefully placed it into my bag. ¡°Sorry, Aizawa-san. I did something terrible to you.¡± Those were the first words out of Inaba-san¡¯s mouth after class. Her head was bowed deeply. Even though I clearly remembered the day that Inaba-san had come to visit me, that had never happened, so for her, this would be the first time that she¡¯d spoke such words. ¡°I know I really hurt you.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I went overboard.¡± Inaba-san must¡¯ve been concerned about me for the entire time I¡¯d absent from school. That alone was far more than enough. Today, on this day, Inaba-san would try with all her might to repair our relationship. Following the pattern from previous days, she would apologize, then say ¡®In return, slap me!¡¯ She¡¯d pull her cheeks together, as if motioning me to hit her. But that Melosian kind of friendship was a little¡­ (T/N: reference to Run, Melos!, a short story often read in japanese schools) ¡°I¡¯m not gonna hit you even if you ask me to.¡± ¡°¡­huh¡­¡± Inaba-san¡¯s mouth hung half agape, looking shocked from the bottom of her heart. ¡°Aizawa-san, can you read people¡¯s minds?¡± ¡°It was written all over your face.¡± That was obviously a lie, but since I couldn¡¯t tell her that today was already the seventh today, I had to go with this explanation. The next thirty seconds were filled with an awkward silence. Abruptly, Inaba-san began to talk. About something that, in the six iterations of the twenty-ninth of June before, had never been mentioned. ¡°Aizawa-san. I was a lot different in middle school than now.¡± ¡°Different?¡± ¡°¡­Um, I was gloomier? Something like that.¡± I tried to imagine it. A younger, more immature Inaba-san who spent her days inconspicuously tucked away in the corner of a classroom, much like me. The only image I could conjure up in my mind was a vague, indistinct human shadow sitting on a chair. It was a person so different from the current one that I couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine it. ¡°You¡¯re kidding. There¡¯s no way.¡± ¡°It¡¯s true. But, I changed after coming to high school.¡± Why was she confiding in me? That Inaba-san had done a one-eighty in high school was something I¡¯d never considered. In stark contrast to me, who had lived in the sun¡¯s shadow since birth, I¡¯d assumed that Inaba-san had always basked in the sun¡¯s bright, warm rays. ¡°Was it because you entered high school?¡± ¡°No, it was more like, because I came to know what the weather would be like, I guess.¡± This so-called witch occasionally said some strange things, huh. Seeing my dubious expression, Inaba-san grew slightly frantic, her words coming just a little more rushed. ¡°It was like, I alone knew something that no one else knew, and just thinking about that gave me courage, I guess? No matter what anyone said to me, or what what they thought of me, I knew more than anyone else about what it¡¯d be like from noon to evening, and I¡¯d have packed an umbrella in my bag. Didn¡¯t that make me invincible?¡± She said it all in a single breath, and I detected a trace of maliciousness in her very last phrase. Something like a small, superiority complex. I knew it all too well. The world only you knew about where you lived all alone, the world only you knew about where you told yourself that you were content with being alone. ¡°Oh, are you trying to to say that even someone like me can change?¡± ¡°N-no. Rather, that I think Aizawa-san doesn¡¯t need to change. That she can stay the way she is.¡± I felt uncomfortable hearing those words while being stared down by those clear, honest eyes. If I can change, I want to change. I¡¯d always believed that. And yet. ¡°No matter who¡¯s watching you, or how much they ostracize you, you¡¯re always able to remain as Aizawa-san. I think that makes you invincible.¡± I felt my heart grow warm. That Inaba-san would go this far and say this much for my sake, that she didn¡¯t mind even if I never changed¡­ it somehow, made me so happy that I couldn¡¯t take it in stride. ¡°It feels so strange. I mean, you called out to my on the day of the entrance ceremony, right. I never would have thought that someone who called out to me like that would be a timid, gloomy girl¡­¡± Before I knew it, my tone had nearly turned accusing. It wasn¡¯t that I¡¯d doubted her, but that I simply couldn¡¯t comprehend. It just felt too convenient for someone like me. ¡°I guess¡­ I just felt like I had to do it.¡± Inaba-san¡¯s eyes fell towards the floor, her tone suddenly losing all of its previous confidence. ¡°T-the instant I saw your face, and called out to you, I just felt like I had to become friends with you.¡± I felt an uncomfortable, prickling sensation in a soft part of my heart. It was a sensation not unlike a stabbing needle, or perhaps a concentrated, sweet acid. But whatever it may be, I felt an itch somewhere in my heart that I couldn¡¯t reach. Inaba Michiru, just who are you? ¡­or something. A friend I¡¯d made in high school, who I knew would be there for me even ¡®tomorrow,¡¯ a companion that was utterly irreplaceable in my heart. Sociable, popular among our classmates, and yet fretted over someone like me¡­ a self-proclaimed witch. A person dear to me I should know well. A figure whose true nature I still knew nothing about. Volume 1 - CH 3 The Seventeenth of July H There were eight days of school left before summer break. Emotions of excitement at the thought of summer break, or frustration that there was still over a week left, were emotions well beyond me at my age. My heart had long since dulled to such sentiments. Avoiding the sun¡¯s burning UV rays, I walked beneath the shade of trees, surrounded on all sides by choruses of cicadas engaged in competing song. Their passionate voices, transformed by the heat reflected against the asphalt, morphed into a sweltering summer air that even the most resilient of people could acutely feel. ¡°Aya-chan, let¡¯s go out! Let¡¯s go shopping! I¡¯ll buy you all the clothes you want~!¡± It was afternoon, and having just arrived home from school, I found myself being greeted by none other than Yuuka¡¯s infuriating, wheedling voice. Yuuka¡¯s unmistakable, infuriating, wheedling voice. I was sure I¡¯d locked the door though, so how¡­ I¡¯d barely made it home, narrowly evading heatstroke, and now I was being forced to return once more into the blazing heat. I wanted to cry out for forgiveness. ¡°At least let me change clothes first.¡± ¡°Ehh- c¡¯mon. We can have a uniform date.¡± Yuuka grabbed my wrists and slipped on a pair of mules before moving to drag me outside. If I resisted and pulled back against her, she¡¯d probably end up falling and spraining her ankle, so I grudgingly let myself be dragged along. ¡°It¡¯s not a date.¡± She didn¡¯t even give me a chance to take off my shoes. But more importantly. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t I stink of sweat?¡± ¡°You smell great.¡± That was obviously a lie. The stink of sweat was not a pleasant fragrance. Generally, if other people smelled good, it¡¯d be due to stuff like shampoo, soap, fabric conditioner, or something like perfume. For members of the opposite gender, the pheromones inside sweat might trigger reproductive instincts, so there was an argument to be made there. But what about members of the same sex? Hypothetically speaking, if someone was the most beautiful and attractive woman in the world, were there girls who could find her sweaty body odor pleasant? ¡­I guess it was possible. It was possible, but I still made sure to apply a citrus deodorant spray when Yuuka wasn¡¯t looking. Just a little. Since if I applied too much, my skin would break out into rash. After spending several tens of minutes of being jolted around by the train, we arrived at a rather large train terminal. During the train ride, Yuuka grew increasingly lively, her mouth accelerating as we neared shopping district. In contrast, I found myself speaking less and less. Somehow, being trapped in a tiny compartment with Yuuka was a thousand times worse than the summer heat. What wouldn¡¯t I give to be outside again. So when we finally exited the station, I relished the feeling of the July summer heat, letting it cling to my skin. Though when Yuuka, her interest caught by a boutique, pulled me by my hand into a store, I once again fell back in love with air conditioning. I will admit that Yuuka offering to pick out clothes for me was a big help. Naturally, even I had to buy clothes from time to time, and I¡¯d been wanting to try out various Western clothes, though I¡¯d never say that out loud. But without Yuuka, I¡¯d have to choose clothes by myself. Which also meant that I¡¯d have to find clothes that I liked the most. Clothes that wouldn¡¯t be there the next day. I wasn¡¯t so oblivious to reality that I believed I¡¯d be able to buy the same clothes in different iterations of the same day. In that respect, I enjoyed playing the role of Yuuka¡¯s dress-up doll. Despite being an unbelievably thrifty and cheap woman, Yuuka¡¯s fashion sense wasn¡¯t bad, and I wasn¡¯t under any obligation to show affection towards the useless things she often picked out for me. To that extent, I couldn¡¯t really ask for better conditions. ¡°Hey, Aya-chan. Don¡¯t you think this hat is cute?¡± Yuuka beamed delightedly, wearing an oversized newsboy cap that seemed to swallow her entire head. Oddly enough, the cream-colored mass of fabric suited her surprisingly well. ¡°Huh. I think it looks good.¡± ¡°Right!? I thought so too so I brought it here-¡± Abruptly, I felt my head grow heavy and my vision turned black. I had no idea what was happening to me. ¡°So cute!¡± Ugh¡­ As I listened to my cousin¡¯s loose, whole-hearted laughter, I found myself thinking about her. On multiple occasions, I¡¯d seriously considered returning Yuuka¡¯s feelings, even if only a little. Her love was genuine. Which is why, even if I feigned my feelings, she would accept them without hesitation. She would cherish my love, without minding that it was insincere. But the problem lay in what would happen after that. Humans have a lifespan of around one hundred and twenty years. On the other hand, human brains are not designed to hold one hundred and twenty years worth of memories. In around ten years, my brain will have exceeded that capacity. I didn¡¯t know what would become of me then. Perhaps I¡¯d end up unexpectedly sane. Or perhaps I¡¯d become a monster, in both name and nature. There was no reason that my mind should continue to function and maintain its sanity after outliving my body¡¯s lifespan. As already evident in the current me, I was becoming more and more detached from what it meant to be human. I didn¡¯t want Yuuka to regret choosing me when those ten years had elapsed. I wanted her to find a more perfect, complete happiness. It my own, selfish desire, but it was also my genuine and honest feeling. ¡°Yuuka.¡± I took off the cap. I stood on my toes, stretching up as high as I could reach, and patted Yuuka¡¯s head a single time. I placed the hat on her head as she stared, dumbfounded. ¡°Mm. Looks really cute.¡± Completely out of character for me, but nevertheless, I complimented her. ¡°Ah¡­ it¡¯s raining.¡± ¡°Rain?¡± What was she talking about¡­ The weather had been perfectly clear yesterday and the day before that and the day before that, with not a single cloud daring to touch the sun. The thought of rain was absurd. I could repeat the same day ten times and the weather would absolutely never change under any circumstance. ¡°It¡¯s a huge thunderstorm! Completely defying all expectations! It made my Aya-chan go crazy! She¡¯s bugging out!! But I¡¯m so happy!!¡± ¡°Y-Yuuka, don¡¯t shout.¡± No matter how you looked at it, Yuuka, exuding smiles and joy, had broken. Her body twitched and spasmed, and I felt disgusted watching her. As I tried my hardest to shut up the suspicious person in front of me, I firmly resolved to never compliment her again. But Yuuka evidently hadn¡¯t learned her lesson. Even afterwards, she blatantly ignored my sullen expression and browsed the shop happily, returning with a heap of clothes and accessories. ¡°Aya-chan, what do you think about this one?¡± ¡°Why can¡¯t you just-¡° -try it on yourself? I almost said, but caught my tongue. Yuuka was holding up a one-piece, with a design that was perhaps a little too much for a twenty-three year old woman. While it was cute, several design choices, including the skirt length and exposed shoulders, were rather questionable. Let alone the fact that I was seventy-five years old¡­ I felt sick at the thought of my age. When we¡¯d first first met five years ago, we weren¡¯t even thirty years apart, but now I was older than Yuuka by more than fifty years. In those five years, Yuuka had gone from a college student to an adult, while I had been and still was a useless adult. I pondered these heavy, depressing thoughts. ¡°Huh? What? Are you listening? Can you hear me? Aya-chan!¡± ¡°W-what? What¡¯d you say?¡± Oi. Don¡¯t call out to people while they¡¯re in the middle of having heavy, depressing thoughts. ¡°I was telling you try it on. This dress.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t want to. Too embarrassing.¡± And furthermore, while it was unfortunate, my figure wasn¡¯t made for these types of clothes. I pushed back against Yuuka, arguing and making excuses that I was sweating a ton and didn¡¯t want to dirty the clothes and so forth. Yuuka refused to listen to any of my complaints, doing her best to force the dress on me. In the midst of our back and forth, a cheerful voice sounded out from behind us. ¡°Please do try on the dress.¡± I turned around, catching the beaming smile of a store employee. I recognized her. She had greeted Yuuka and I when we¡¯d previously visited this shop. She was around the same age as Yuuka. I also recalled that, on multiple occasions, they had talked to each other in a friendly manner. So that¡¯s what Yuuka had been plotting¡­ ¡°See, Aya-chan? You should listen to her. If you buy it without trying it on, the front might be too tight and you wouldn¡¯t know until you got home.¡± Just drop dead already. As I unwillingly fumbled with the dress before finally putting it on, I found the skirt length to be about average, neither too long nor short. That didn¡¯t make it any less embarrassing, and I couldn¡¯t calm my racing heart as my knees were exposed to refreshing air. But that paled in comparison to my shoulders, laid completely bare thanks to the no-sleeve design. ¡°It looks great on you. Is she your younger sister?¡± the employee asked Yuuka. ¡°We¡¯re lovers.¡± ¡°We¡¯re cousins.¡± Yuuka must be sleep-talking right now, I decided. Otherwise, there was no way she¡¯d spout such idiotic nonsense. I was tempted to snap her out of her delusions, but I was reminded of the superstition where if you talked back to someone sleep-talking, they¡¯d never be able to leave their dream, and would ultimately die. Maybe it was better to leave her be¡­? Nah, who was I kidding. (T/N: Referring to a japanese superstition where you shouldn¡¯t answer someone sleep-talking, else they¡¯d die) ¡°We can get married!¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m pretty sure we can¡¯t!¡± Admittedly, that law would probably change soon. College student marriages were already a hot topic, but that was infinitely less scandalous than high school student marriages. I didn¡¯t even want to think about what kind of fantasies our neighbors, with way to much free time on their hands, would conjure up. Though I got the feeling that our neighbors didn¡¯t care all that much. Else they would¡¯ve done something about the child neglect situation. ¡°Want to wear it outside?¡± In other words, it had already been decided that we were buying it. No one had even asked for my input. I mean, it was honestly kind of cute but¡­ yeah, no. I wasn¡¯t going to let myself take interest in the dress. I didn¡¯t know if today would be chosen yet, but if I carelessly decided I liked the dress, it¡¯d only end in disappointment. Yuuka shrugged. ¡°If you don¡¯t wear it, I might be tempted to sniff it while I¡¯m carrying the bags, is all I¡¯m saying.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll wear it.¡± ¡°Thank you for your purchase. I¡¯ll remove the tag for you.¡± Though after I changed into the dress, Yuuka turned her sights to my school uniform instead, sniffing it nonstop. I wanted to disappear. It was noon, and unsurprisingly, the paved road was packed jam full with pedestrians. As I walked along the sidewalk under the blistering sun, carrying my school uniform in one hand, I couldn¡¯t help but feel the pressure of numerous gazes on me. I sincerely hoped that they weren¡¯t looking anywhere weird. Then again, it could¡¯ve just been me being overly self-conscious. ¡°It¡¯s too hot. Let¡¯s find a shop or something.¡± Yuuka nodded in agreement. ¡°Wanna go to a movie? I bet a horror movie will cool you right down.¡± ¡°I already watched a horror movie with the yesterday you.¡± During the movie, she kept trying to touch me at every opportunity, which was far creepier than any horror. ¡°Dammit. I¡¯m so jealous of yesterday me. I bet she got to cling to Aya-chan and get all intimate.¡± ¡°That didn¡¯t happen.¡± Apart from the movie itself, the air-conditioned movie theater was an alluring proposition. However, there was poison laced in her honeyed words. Deceit and malice hid behind her guise of innocence. If I let those words ensnare me, I was nothing more than an idiot. ¡°Apart from horror, thriller, spy, action, romance, fantasy, sci-fi, comedy, drama, kaiju anime, knight, western, history, adventure, musicals, and pornos, I¡¯m fine with anything.¡± I rejected movies in a rather roundabout way. ¡°Then, let¡¯s watch a period drama!¡± Yuuka, her good humor undeterred, continued to gleefully laugh like child, practically skipping along, her hands bouncing up and down without a care in the world. Unfortunately, one of her hands happened to be holding my hand, and every bounce shook my body, the hem of my skirt jumping along with it. Needless to say, Yuuka¡¯s pace was quite troublesome. But even as I sighed, lamenting my misfortune, I knew that there weren¡¯t many people in the world who¡¯d go out with me and deliberately act this cheerful for my sake, so I secretly agreed to let her have her way. Suddenly, Yuuka spoke up. ¡°Say, isn¡¯t that Inaba-chan?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± I craned my head so fast that I nearly broke my neck. On the opposite side of the street, near the entrance of a doughnut chain store, was Inaba-san, walking leisurely along the sidewalk. She was still wearing her school uniform. I wanted to call out to her, but hesitated. If I shouted her name now, I¡¯d surely draw the stares of passersby, and I wasn¡¯t the type of person who could just run up to her and casually greet her with ¡®yo, wassup¡¯ or something. Besides, I couldn¡¯t cross the street in such heavy traffic, and if I waited until the traffic light changed, Inaba-san would probably have left already. Ahh, but still. Inaba-san hadn¡¯t noticed me, huh. Even though I was this close to her, she hadn¡¯t heard me talking. Not that there was any particular reason that we had to meet, or any pressing matter that I needed to tell her. And so, frozen by indecision, I did nothing but stay at a standstill, watching as Inaba-san¡¯s figure moved further away. Naturally, Inaba-san had no way of guessing my internal conflicts. ¡°Oi, Inaba-chan!!¡± Not giving a single ounce of care to the passerby stares, Yuuka yelled out Inaba-san¡¯s name. Most impressive for a twenty-three year old. Inaba-san startled, glancing around, searching for the voice¡¯s owner. Finally, our eyes met. ¡°Yo, wassup!¡± Yuuka boomed. It had truly been a long time since I¡¯d seen my cousin¡¯s smile this radiant. We waited for the traffic light to change before crossing the road, where Inaba-san received us cheerfully. ¡°What a coincidence running you all the way out here!¡± ¡°Y-yeah.¡± My chest burned with uneasiness. Now that I was face to face with Inaba-san, I couldn¡¯t help but feel overwhelming embarrassed by my appearance. ¡°Your dress is so cute! Aizawa-san, somehow, how should I put it¡­ I want to take you home with me!¡± ¡°¡­T-thanks.¡± Ugh. I¡¯d been seen. I¡¯d been seen by a classmate wearing this dress that obviously didn¡¯t suit me. And out of all anyone, I¡¯d been seen by Inaba-san. Seen holding Yuuka¡¯s hand, walking cheerfully along. It¡¯s not that I was trying to maintain the appearance of a cool, indifferent character or anything. It was more like how a middle-schooler might try to hide their parents from their friends out of shame. ¡°Hiya, Inaba-chan! How does MY cute Aya-chan look? Isn¡¯t she cute!¡± ¡°Hello, Yuuka-san.¡± It was probably my imagination, but I thought I heard the distinct crackling of ice-cold sparks. The temperature seemed to drop by one or two degrees. Come to think of it, I got the feeling that the atmosphere between the two had been oddly strained when Inaba-san had stopped by my house¡­ If that was the case, then it was my duty to act as a mediator. I was suddenly imbued with a sense of duty. ¡°Hey, Inaba-san. The two of us were about to get some sweets. If you¡¯re not in a hurry, want to come with us?¡± ¡°Wait, but Aya-chan, you don¡¯t even like mrgh-¡° I quickly slammed my hand against Yuuka¡¯s mouth, sealing it shut. I refused to allow her to interfere and say something unnecessary. ¡°Is that really okay? Weren¡¯t you planning on spending the day with Yuuka-san?¡± ¡°Not a problem at all. It¡¯ll be fun if you¡¯re with us.¡± Without waiting for a reply, I grabbed each person¡¯s hand and started to walk. Mm. I did a good deed. I was over the moon. The secluded terrace was surrounded by lush greenery, the trees above providing ample shade against the summer sun. Almost like a hidden home, known only to a select few. The three of us sat around a beautiful, round, wooden table having a tea party. Our party was just as gorgeous as the sugar sprinkled across the top of our doughnuts, which were sweet and melted on the tongue, leaving only tiny grains of sugar crystals behind. ¡°Aya-chan, this is super yummy! Here, let¡¯s trade.¡± ¡°Ah, Aizawa-san, trade with me too¡­¡± But still, how did we end up choosing a doughnut shop? That was the only thing I regretted, even if just a little. I wasn¡¯t fond of sweets. The sweets I baked myself were the exception. Since with those, I could adjust the sweetness and flavors to my liking. Every inch of the table was cram-packed with confectionaries and sweets. There was chocolate too. And even fresh cream. A table that would cause any sugar-lover to drool uncontrollably. I forced myself to take tiny bites, soothing the sickly sweetness with sips of bitter coffee. ¡°You two can have my share.¡± ¡°Aya-chan, don¡¯t you dare run away from sugar.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you wanted to eat sweets, Aizawa-san?¡± I was taken aback at the ferociousness with which they attacked the food. It¡¯d completely slipped my mind that Yuuka was actually a girl. And of course, it went without saying that Inaba-san was one too. Their utter devotion to sweets and sugar extended far beyond the limits of our solar system. Though obviously, the only place they could live in outer space was earth, so that was just sophism. I didn¡¯t want them to fuss over me, so I tried to hide it. Unfortunately, Inaba-san wasn¡¯t so easily fooled. ¡°Aizawa-san, could it be¡­ that you don¡¯t like sweets?¡± ¡°N-no, that¡¯s not¡­¡± She saw right through me. And even as I flustered my words, trying to deny the fact, it was too late. ¡°You¡¯re absolutely right, Inaba-chan. Aya-chan hates ohagi and daifuku even more than insects.¡± ¡°Stop deliberately trying to cause misunderstandings.¡± Yuuka had run her mouth far too much with that single comment. I glared at Yuuka, mustering as much hatred into my expression as I could. She didn¡¯t seem fazed at all. Inaba-san tilted her head. ¡°Some¡­ somehow, I felt like I knew that already. Did you tell me that before?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± That day hadn¡¯t been chosen. It would be easy to chalk these things up to Inaba-san¡¯s deja vu, but I always made sure to remember exactly what had happened and what hadn¡¯t. Else, if something unexpected came up and I wasn¡¯t prepared, I¡¯d forget which day had been chosen. And it was in that time that it would take me to remember that my relationships often collapsed. ¡°I see. Maybe it was dream.¡± ¡°I¡¯m in your dreams?¡± ¡°Yeah. About once every two days.¡± That was awfully specific. But still. She dreamed about me, huh. She felt close enough to me that she dreamed about me. It was the first time anyone had accepted me so wholeheartedly. I could barely suppress my feelings of joy from leaping out of my chest. Yuuka, utterly heedless of my struggle, lashed out unexpectedly. ¡°¡­hm? You have dreams about my Aya-chan?¡± ¡°Yes, I do. What about it?¡± The atmosphere had abruptly turned alarmingly threatening. And what was the ¡®my¡¯ about? What was I, a cat? You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. ¡°Once every two days?¡± ¡°Who knows? Maybe more,¡± Inaba-san fired back, her smile never leaving her face. Scary. Though it was only summer, bluish-white bolts of static electricity flowed freely between them, illuminating their faces. On the surface, it was a relaxing, afternoon tea party, but a whirlpool churned just below the water¡¯s surface, composed of emotions thicker than two day old curry. ¡°That¡¯s not fair! I only get to dream about her once a week!¡± Yuuka burst out. Where the hell was she getting all this self-confidence from? ¡°By the way, the frequency that you dream about someone is mrgrghh-¡° ¡°Here! Say ¡®Ah!¡¯ Have one!¡± I grabbed a doughnut and forced it into Yuuka¡¯s mouth. For a moment, she stared up at me in pure bliss, but in next moment, her face turned amusing shades of red and blue as she began to suffocate. At first, Inaba-san seemed flustered, but the surprise soon faded, replaced by embarrassment. ¡°M-me too¡­! Aizawa-san, say¡­ ah?¡± As she stumbled over her words, she brought a french cruller to my mouth. I didn¡¯t know what kind of rivalry the two had going, but Inaba-san had descended into madness. The french cruller looked sweeter than anything I¡¯d eaten before. And while being fed in public might cause me to die of embarrassment, I simply couldn¡¯t find the strength to resist the figure of Inaba-san, her arms stretched out towards me and her cheeks red with awkwardness¡­ I¡¯d only intended on shutting Yuuka up. So how had it come to this¡­ ¡°A-aah¡­¡± I hardened my resolve and stretched open my mouth. Inaba-san¡¯s hand neared my lips, along with a sweet, sugary fragrance. As Inaba-san leaned towards me, I found my gaze glued on her slender wrists¡­ Before I knew it, my front teeth had come into contact with a soft, doughy surface, and I bit down. In a single bite, the french cruller in Inaba-san¡¯s hand was reduced to a mouse-sized morsel. ¡°How is it? Is it good?¡± ¡°¡­yeah.¡± I hadn¡¯t tasted anything at all. ¡°By the way, the amount of times you dream about someone is proportional to their feelings for you¡± or something along those lines was an ancient, somewhat romantic superstition that Yuuka had attempted to quote, but that superstition was obviously complete bogus. It¡¯d be like saying that I loved Inaba-san so much that every night, I broke free from my physical body and transcended into the dream world to have a romantic rendezvous with Inaba-san. The Fifteenth of September A My two-hundred day summer vacation came to an end [T/N: summer vacation in japan is around 40 days]. Naturally, the one thing I was most looking forward to on returning to school was the fact that I could see Inaba-san every day. During summer, I¡¯d hung out with her around twelve times total, but that was far from satisfactory. Two weeks after the end of summer vacation, the school¡¯s cultural festival would commence. Each homeroom discussed their exhibits, and talk between friends and couples about their plans for the day in question could be heard throughout the school. I had never known love in my entire life, but seeing those couples talking and laughing in the hallways always made me feel warm on the inside. Even without understanding love, I knew that their love was undoubtedly sweet. That much I was aware. Though of course, as usual, I myself didn¡¯t have any plans this year. ¡°Oh Ayaka, wherefore art thou, Ayaka?¡± Apparently caught up in the school¡¯s frenzied atmosphere which had seemingly arose from nowhere, Inaba-san¡¯s excitement was at an all time high, even in the early morning. ¡°Call me but love, and I¡¯ll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Ayaka.¡± From within the depths of my memory, I retrieved the corresponding line and matched Inaba-san¡¯s declaration. ¡°Good morning. Thanks for playing along with my little skit, Aizawa-san. You¡¯re the only who¡¯d do that.¡± I¡¯m sure other people would as well, I thought silently. Her little skit¡­ Playing Romeo and Juliet this early in the morning was, well, it was like eating shortcake for breakfast. It was unbelievably sweet, and just by imagining it, I could feel by heart burn from sugar overdose. Several groups of girls shot us teasing looks, as if they couldn¡¯t believe we were doing something so audacious. ¡°You seem happy this morning.¡± ¡°Ehehe. You noticed?¡± ¡°¡­Not in a good way.¡± ¡°Ah, hey! Wait a sec! Your friend has something serious to say!¡± ¡°Then, how about you be more serious?¡± ¡°So, um. I received a love letter.¡± Inaba-san held up a white envelope, covering her pink lips. The center of her face was engulfed by white. At this bolt from the blue, I could only stare in wonder. A love letter¡­ I couldn¡¯t process it. I felt way out of my depth, an old grandma trying to understand something as fashionable as love letters. All at once, pretending to be a high school student became painfully difficult. ¡°O-oh, is that so. I guess some people still do it the old-fashioned way.¡± ¡°I know right. They asked me to meet them during lunch behind the gymnasium. Isn¡¯t that cliche?¡± I silently apologized to Inaba-san, bubbling with innocent joy, but there was something that bothered me. If I remembered correctly, the exterior walls of the gymnasium were undergoing construction work, as they was being repainted. The construction didn¡¯t require any heavy machinery, so entering the site wasn¡¯t prohibited, and since the operation was scheduled to conclude before the culture festival next week, the school administration wasn¡¯t paying particularly close attention to the site. A complicated scaffolding composed of iron pipes had been arranged at the site, and construction workers frequently entered and exited. In other words, though it was technically off-limits for students, no one would notice if a student or two slipped in. ¡°Are you going to go?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but I feel like even if I was going to reject them, I should at least meet them in person.¡± ¡°I see. Be careful.¡± Under the surface of my calm exterior, I felt extremely anxious in more ways than one. Class was always boring and dull, seeming as if they¡¯d never end, but today, lunch break seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. Inaba-san wasn¡¯t in the classroom. I was alone as I opened my bento. I should¡¯ve perfectly fine alone, yet for some inexplicable reason, now that the person who had transferred to our class half a year ago and had always by my side was now absent, far away, even though I¡¯d always been alone up to now, harsh pangs of loneliness echoed throughout my heart. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to take a single bite of food. If Inaba-san decided to go out with him, starting tomorrow, I¡¯d be alone again. I felt fingers pointed in my direction, mocking me for eating alone, and I hated it, but it was something I could endure. I hadn¡¯t lived seventy-five years just for show. However, at the thought that Inaba-san might leave for someone else and never come back, all my energy was drained away by worry. My heart trembled. My body was trembling as well. My vision blurred, and I felt sick. Had I caught another cold? I figured it might be best to visit the infirmary, when suddenly, I noticed panic spreading throughout the classroom. ¡°Eh, what is this? An earthquake?¡± ¡°It¡¯s quite a big one.¡± Someone screamed. One person stood stock still, one person scanned the area, one person fled out the door, one person pressed themselves against the cleaning equipment closet, and one person continued to eat from their bento without tasting anything. The last one was me. What good would panicking do? But despite my calm appearance, my mind was in a state of utter turmoil. My day so far had been nothing but a trade fair of worst-case scenarios, and a new worst-case had just been introduced. A thundering roar shook the windows and they rattled. The new worst-case was now reality. From outside, a booming crash sounded, as if some heavy objects had just collapsed. ¡°What was that sound?¡± ¡°That was scary. I hope everything¡¯s okay.¡± The crash had been somewhat muffled and wasn¡¯t that loud, which probably meant it had occurred some distance away from the classroom. I could distinctly feel my body jolt every time the earthquake gave off a tremor, and the earth rumbled and creaked beneath our feet. The class boiled with apprehension. The intercom buzzed to life. ¡°Currently, we are gathering information on the earthquake in the staff room. Students, please stand by in your respective classrooms and wait for further instructions.¡± The announcement only accelerated the commotion. After a particularly long tremor, a loud crash echoed from the direction of the gymnasium. ¡°That was the scaffolding collapsing, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Someone¡¯s half-joking remark floated its way to me, amidst the buzz engulfing our class. They were probably right about the scaffolding. Even if the whole thing hadn¡¯t collapsed, the top layers had probably fallen off. The scaffolding at the gymnasium¡¯s construction sight¡­ huh? By the way, where did Inaba-san say she was going again? Before my brain had fully processed anything, my feet slammed against the ground and I shot up. What was I doing, eating lunch? The intercom? Stand by in our classroom? What nonsense. I dashed out of the classroom as fast as my legs would move, and blindly sprinted towards the gymnasium¡¯s direction. They asked me to meet them during lunch behind the gymnasium. Isn¡¯t that cliche? Inaba-san¡¯s innocent voice rang in my ears. My feet pounded against the hard floor as I advanced forward single-mindedly. Nothing else in the world mattered. My knee-length skirt flapped up and down as I ran, rounded a corner and crashed straight into a teacher who¡¯d just come up from the staff room on the second floor, and I was knocked to the ground, but I ignored their angry voice and jumped to my feet, muttering only a word of apology that I couldn¡¯t care less about, and by the time the apology left my mouth, I was already gone, flying down the flight of stairs. As I finally neared the second floor landing where the corridor to the gymnasium lay, I stupidly lost my footing on the stairs and fell, crashing into the dusty floor. A wild scream formed at the base of my throat, but I crushed it before it escaped, crumpling into a tiny ball and disposing of it entirely. Unwilling to waste precious time in waiting for the pain to fade, I rushed to stand up, but my entire body lurched. I felt my ankle twist as it gave way, and sharp pain paralysed by entire body. ¡°Ow-¡° I reflexively curled up into a ball on the floor. I couldn¡¯t afford to dawdle. I had rush to Inaba-san immediately and ensure she was safe. But my numb leg refused to budge, showing no signs of recovery. Inadvertently, as if pleading to the heavens, I looked upwards. ¡°Are you alright?¡± My eyes met Inaba-san¡¯s. On the opposite side of the railing was a large glass window, brilliant beams of light shining through it and illuminating Inaba-san¡¯s figure. It felt like I¡¯d been transported into a religious painting depicting the heavens, and divinity was smiling down upon me. Perhaps when I¡¯d fallen on the stairs, I¡¯d passed onto the next life. Fantasies of angels taking the form of Inaba-san to greet me at the gates of heaven flashed before my eyes. ¡°Can you stand? Let¡¯s go the infirmary. You shouldn¡¯t run down the stairs, you know.¡± She held my hand and helped me stand. The more I examined her gesture, the more I realized it was the usual Inaba-san, and when she moved closer to me, I could smell a sweet fragrance on the tip of her nose, and I knew without a shadow of doubt that this was reality. Relief flooded my chest. She was safe. And as I breathed a sigh of gratefulness, I felt all strength flee from my limbs. And even though she¡¯d gone out of her way to help me stand, I fell to my knees once more, my shoulders drooping, as I let out heavy breaths. Thank god. Truly. I didn¡¯t know which divinity to dedicate my gratitude towards, but I wanted to thank them from the bottom of my heart. ¡°Ah! Careful, Aizawa-san! Did you hit your head? S-someone!! Teacher!!¡± Inaba-san¡¯s cries for help echoed throughout the empty corridor devoid of any other people. ¡°Use them however you like.¡± Inaba-san, lending me her shoulder, supported me all the way to the infirmary, where the nurse looked at me as if I was nothing but a bother. With one hand, she took out some poultice and bandages from a cabinet and tossed them onto the desk, then left the room carrying a pink pouch in the other hand. Amidst the smell of disinfectant chemicals, I caught a whiff of tabaco. Was she a delinquent nurse¡­ ¡°So¡­ how¡¯d it go?¡± I asked Inaba-san, staring at my leg intently as I began to spray poultice on it and wrap it bandages. Now was probably not the time I should be asking, but I couldn¡¯t help myself. ¡°Your leg injury is more important right now.¡± ¡°It¡¯s more important than my injury.¡± ¡­To me, at least. I couldn¡¯t change outcome of events that already happened. So in order to make the fifteenth of September A count, I would have to act starting tomorrow to reduce the chance of a ¡®worst-case scenario,¡¯ even if only just by a little bit. I would stop the confession from happening even if it cost me my life. I was disgusted at myself for entertaining such malicious ideas, even if they were only half serious. Inaba-san replied in a somewhat joking manner. ¡°I never talked to him before. He said that he didn¡¯t mind us starting out as friends, but¡­¡± ¡°But?¡± ¡°I told him there wasn¡¯t much of a chance of that happening.¡± Oof. A decisive blow. Poor guy. ¡°Why¡¯d you go that far?¡± I was relieved, but I was still going to intercept ¡®tomorrow¡¯s¡¯ letter. Now that I knew that an earthquake would occur today during lunch break and that the gymnasium would become a danger zone, I couldn¡¯t afford to let Inaba-san anywhere near there. ¡°¡­I think it¡¯s more enjoyable to be with my best friend.¡± When I looked up, Inaba-san averted her eyes, blushing. My heart danced with joy. I felt like I¡¯d become a stupidly simple-minded creature, but what did I care. I let out a spontaneous giggle. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t laugh!¡± ¡°Sorry. I was too happy.¡± I was overjoyed that I wasn¡¯t the only one who thought of the other as my best friend. I felt invincible. I couldn¡¯t care less if today wasn¡¯t chosen. Because while days might, these feelings couldn¡¯t be erased. ¡°Um, Aizawa-san. Were you, maybe, worried about me?¡± ¡°¡­That¡¯s not it.¡± My hand, resting on my knee, tensed. ¡°Fufu, thanks. I really appreciate it.¡± ¡°I-I¡¯m telling you, that¡¯s not it.¡± ¡°Apparently, whenever you lie, your hand clenches up, or so Yuuka-san said.¡± My face burned. Even though I knew any attempt I made to hide my feelings would be in vain, I still lowered my gaze, only to see the hand sitting on my knee clenched into a tiny, white fist. ¡°I-it¡¯s not¡­¡± It¡¯s not a lie¡­ As I opened my mouth to say those words, I felt my hand tense up again. I shouldn¡¯t feel so psychologically repulsed by such an action. Lying should be second nature to me. I wasn¡¯t a virtuous person. On the contrary, I should¡¯ve been a witch who used any means to achieve her ends. ¡°Aizawa-san! Want to accompany me at the cultural festival?¡± In response that beaming, innocent smile, I could do nothing but nod mechanically. Because now that I¡¯d been reduced to a complete fool by panic, if I tried to open my mouth and speak, I¡¯d only be able to express my utterly honest lies. The Fifteenth of September B I fell into despondency the instant I woke. Everything that had happened since the start of yesterday would also happen today. Inaba-san would surely receive a love letter today as well. Whoever the sender was, he¡¯d surely send it again today. It was unthinkable that he had confessed on a whim. He must¡¯ve thought long and hard before finally steeling himself for the confession. Without a doubt, an earthquake would occur at around lunch. Up to this point, the weather had never once changed between same days. Natural disasters almost always obeyed these same rules, never deviating from the previous day. Though perhaps if I waited long enough, an exception might arrive. Just like how a butterfly beating its wings in Beijing might cause a hurricane in New York, so might natural phenomenon be subject to the same effect, whether it be a change in weather, or whether an earthquake might occur or not, or whether a meteorite might fall or not. But to see change in something as drastic as a change in weather or natural phenomenon, repeating time intervals of twenty-four hours were far too short. If Inaba-san received the letter, she would inevitably try and meet the sender in person, given her honest, sincere personality. Leading her to the back of the gymnasium. She¡¯d been safe yesterday, but I wouldn¡¯t so carefree as to believe the same luck would carry on today. Like the butterfly beating its wings, a human might survive an accident on one day, then die from the same accident on the next. I had had seen it happen all too much. In that respect, humans were born by chance, and died by chance. Too recently, I¡¯d almost lost Yuuka in the same way. Her broken, dying body, the grief I felt, all came rushing vividly back to me. How helpless I¡¯d felt. How pitiful and and heartbreaking her fate had been. I wouldn¡¯t ever forget. If Inaba-san arrived at the gymnasium just a few minutes later than yesterday, she¡¯d be in danger. If any of them had taken a few minutes slower- for instance, if the boy had arrived a few minutes later- well, stories like these were common, tragic tales. At the very least, such hypotheticals were infinitely more likely to occur than natural phenomenon like earthquakes arriving a few minutes later. I had two choices: either intercept the love letter, or to stop the earthquake altogether. And because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t stop an earthquake, the choice was never in question. However, I was too late. ¡°Aizawa-san, Aizawa-san!¡± The instant she arrived in the classroom, Inaba-san rushed towards me bearing the news. The brightly colored envelope she held behind her back told me everything. Loathing swirled inside me in a frenzied whirlpool. If you¡¯re a man, ask her out directly! Don¡¯t send a letter! I wanted to scream. I stopped myself though. I knew that whoever he was, he must¡¯ve spent a long time working up the courage to write a letter and ask her out in person. ¡°What do you think this is?¡± Inaba-san said giddily. ¡°Fufu, is it a love letter from you to me?¡± My voice came out monotone and emotionless. ¡°Wrong! Though, it is my first time in my life I¡¯ve ever gotten a love letter.¡± I stared at Inaba-san, a beaming grin spread across her face as if she¡¯d always wanted to experience the feeling of receiving a love letter at least once in her life. I made my decision then and there. ¡°They asked me to meet them behind the gymnasium during lunch. What do you think?¡± Inaba-san asked. ¡°O-oh. I guess some people still do it the old-fashioned way¡­¡± I replied with the same exact words as yesterday. I did so intentionally, hoping that if everything today went just as yesterday did, Inaba-san would remain unhurt today as well. But my tone came out at least an octave lower. I felt miserable. But miserable as I was, I couldn¡¯t afford to do nothing. ¡­I think it¡¯s more enjoyable to be with my best friend With best friend resonating throughout my heart, encouraging me, I carried out my plan during morning homeroom. ¡°Alright, that concludes homeroom. Today, remember to-¡° ¡°Excuse me.¡± A single student raised their hand. Me. As I became the center of attention of the entire class, my back became drenched in an unpleasant, nervous sweat. I truly truly, truly hated it, but it was the only way to realize my plan. Ever since she¡¯d transferred to our school, I had completely shut myself off from other people, passively centering my world on Inaba-san and disregarding all others, to the point where I¡¯d never talked to most of my classmates. Even when it came to Inaba-san, I never talked to her unless she called out to me first. I always left the conversation topic up to her, and I never smiled or laughed as much as I should¡¯ve. On the rare occasions that I spoke, I only spoke the bare minimum words. They saw me as someone who had no intention of opening her heart, who had no interests other than books. Probably, no, most certainly. That was me. ¡°O-oh, what is it?¡± The teacher blinked. That cold-hearted, closed-off me opened her mouth. The classroom turned dead silent. Everyone held their breath, staring. No one could predict what that me would say next. Aah, Ayaka, just stop it already. It¡¯s only the second day. Nothing¡¯s been decided yet. If you tell them what¡¯s going to happen, what¡¯ll you do in the one and a million chance that you¡¯re wrong? And even if things go exactly as you say, they¡¯ll call you crazy. You might even get bullied. There¡¯s still two and a half years of high school. Sure, you might be able to endure two and a half more years. But for you, there¡¯s five times that, more than twelve years. This is your last chance already. Just say ¡®never mind¡¯ and put down your hand. Just stop it already¡­! But in less than a second, all the inner voices screaming for me to stop, all my internal conflicts, were erased by a single voice uttering a single line. What happens if Inaba-san dies!? ¡°Please listen to me. Everything I say from now on is the truth.¡± Right as those words left my mouth, I experienced a floating sensation, like my feet had levitated off the ground. I remembered. Remembered a time when I had forgotten which day had been chosen. I, who couldn¡¯t forget the days that others couldn¡¯t recall, could no longer manage the burden of memories that hadn¡¯t happened. In order to bury the the loneliness of being the sole person left behind by the world, I desperately explained to my parents the events of yesterday, over and over and over, day after day after day. My parents didn¡¯t hide their fed up disgust. They were fed up with having to go along with their only daughter¡¯s delusions. And I, trying to appease them, used prophecies. So that they would take me seriously, I utilized memories that only I knew about¡­ ¡°¡­Today during lunch, a massive earthquake will occur. The epicentre will be in the neighboring eastern region with a magnitude of 5. The scaffolding at the construction site of the exterior gymnasium wall will partially collapse. Please inform the current construction workers and prohibit anyone from entering.¡± In my brief, easy to understand summary, I included as many facts as possible. This was the best I could do. All my mental preparation hadn¡¯t been wasted. I managed to suppress the trembling in my voice to a minimum. Inaba-san had turned around in the seat in front me me, staring up at me. As if trying to flee her large, round eyes, I averted my gaze. The whole class was stunned into speechlessness. For three seconds, five seconds, the unpleasant hush continued. ¡°Aizawa, please don¡¯t disrupt the class.¡± The homeroom teacher¡¯s voice was stiff. ¡°It¡¯s the truth.¡± ¡°¡­We can have a nice chat about your story afterwards, so please come to the staff office during lunch.¡± To my ears, it sounded as if he was asking for time to sort things out. He was probably thinking sympathetically that puberty had unstabilized my mental state, and that he¡¯d spend the latter half of the day giving me counselling. Truly a teacher who cared about his students. The homeroom teacher left the room. A faint laughter rippled through the classroom, the chuckles devoid of any amicability. Everyone was too shocked by the sudden turn of events, and no one knew what to think. With a magic incantation that had only taken a few seconds, I had robbed forty humans around me of their ability to think. Hey Inaba-san, I learned how to use magic before you! ¡­I wasn¡¯t happy in the slightest. After first period ended, the classroom felt like the bottom of Pandora¡¯s Box. Students spent most of the break imagining exactly what my intentions had been. ¡°Hey, wait-¡° ¡°What she said earlier-¡° ¡°Eh, I didn¡¯t know¡± ¡°The test I spent all night cramming for¡­¡± ¡°So Aizawa-san was that kind of person all along.¡± ¡°Inaba-san, what happened to your partner?¡± No one was brave enough to ask the person in question directly. They only stared from afar, hushed whispers passing between friends. It was as if the conversation had been broken up by antitrust laws. A bed of nails. What was Inaba-san thinking? That was the only thing I cared about. I hurriedly ran out of the classroom. I¡¯d skip the rest of morning classes. No matter how boring classes had been, no matter how painful repeating the same day over and over again had been, I¡¯d never gone so far as to run away. Because I¡¯d been scared of growing accustomed to running away. But, just this once, I fled. Fled from the girl sitting in front of me. The bell rang, signalling the start of class. I walked in the pleasantly cold north-side corridor alone. An earthquake would occur during lunch. All I had to do was sit in class patiently, and all my predictions would prove themselves come noon. But even just sitting in class felt unbearable right now. After a while, I also realized that I was skipping out on compulsory education. At this rate, if I got accustomed to skipping, I might fail high school. Though I didn¡¯t mind that so much. Up to now, in order to feign normalcy, I¡¯d spent the second half of my fifteen years advancing through grades and studying, but with this, I¡¯d completely thrown all my efforts away. Better sooner than later, I thought. It was refreshing feeling. In the school building, with classes ongoing all around me, I was imbued with a sense of liberation. But if someone found me wandering along, it¡¯d be quite bothersome to explain myself. I entered a conveniently empty classroom. Someone had seemingly forgotten to close the window, and the late summer sun cast short shadows into the room. Though no one was teaching, sitting in a chair somehow made me ill at ease. Instead, I spread my handkerchief on the floor under the window and sat down in the shade. I closed my eyes and took a breath. At least, until lunch, I could relax here, thinking about nothing at all. ¡°Aizawa-san.¡± Inaba-san stood in the entrance of the classroom. Without hesitation, she walked over to me. My heart jumped. She¡¯d come to rebuke me for my prank. I¡¯d be blamed, I thought. But the familiar voice and expression showed concern. ¡°Inaba-san¡­¡± What¡¯s wrong? Class started already, you know- I braced myself for those words. But they never came. Inaba-san stayed silent. She could well understand that I didn¡¯t want to hear those words, and after chasing me all the way here, she was smart enough not to earn my contempt in a single sentence. Inaba-san sat down next to me, reclining against the cool wall under the window. Her left hand was so close to my right that they almost seemed to touch. ¡°You must¡¯ve thought I was crazy, didn¡¯t you?¡± Never looking at her, I fixed my gaze on the floor tiles on the opposite side of the room, deliberately acting coldly. But I knew the answer to my question already. That Inaba-san had come all the way here for me. That if she thought I was crazy, she wouldn¡¯t have chased me this far. But I was too ashamed to face her directly. This was the only way I knew how, and I hated myself for it. The curtain swayed from a breeze, and the shadows cast on the cool floor danced irregularly. In the moving shape, I saw a line that I couldn¡¯t cross. ¡°The bell rung already. Shouldn¡¯t you be heading back to class?¡± I said harshly. I couldn¡¯t depend on her kindness and get too close to her. Because I was a witch. I wasn¡¯t human. We hadn¡¯t lived for the same amount of time. I wielded a completely different kind of common sense. I was a witch, so I uttered prophecies. I sorely regretted doing so. For a while, Inaba-san didn¡¯t say anything, but finally, she timidly opened her mouth. ¡°¡­Earlier, why did you say that?¡± I didn¡¯t reply. ¡°I-I want to know.¡± For a human who only lived through time once, of course she¡¯d doubt something like prophecy. I had used memories of a yesterday that only I remembered so that today would go better. No one could possibly blame me for something like that, but then again, no one would possibly understand my explanation. It was the same reason for my loneliness. It was the same basis on which I understood my existence as the sole creature of a single species. It was the reason why I would never be able to find the words to explain my situation to a human. I should think about this carefully. ¡°I had deja vu.¡± ¡°Deja vu?¡± ¡°Yeah. That you got crushed underneath the scaffolding near gymnasium.¡± I lied as easily as I breathed. Just because luck had favored her yesterday didn¡¯t guarantee she¡¯d be safe today as well. This was the only way I knew how to avoid the heartrending scene that had played out in my heart countless times. ¡°Aizawa-san, you¡¯re lying.¡± ¡°¡­Why, do you think that?¡± ¡°Because when you said that an earthquake would occur, I didn¡¯t have deja vu.¡± ¡°But deja vu isn¡¯t something that you can definitively rely on¡­¡± ¡°I can definitively know the weather. Earthquakes too. Didn¡¯t I tell you before? That I¡¯d become a witch. You don¡¯t believe me?¡± ¡°I do belive you, but¡­¡± That¡¯s unfair¡­ Inaba-san closed the distance between us in a heartbeat. ¡°If you believe me, then why didn¡¯t you tell me directly? That there¡¯d be an earthquake, and that the gymnasium would become dangerous.¡± Because if I said that, it¡¯d seem like I was jealous, wouldn¡¯t it? Like telling her in a roundabout way to reject the confession. ¡°Is it because the letter made you unhappy?¡± She was a human who only lived through one day at a time, but her guess had divined my inner emotions unbelievably precisely. My heart pounded so hard that it hurt, but I felt utterly lifeless. Which is why: ¡°What makes you think that?¡± I played dumb. No matter how shamelessly I had to act, no matter how much I had to play dumb, I could never honestly say yeah, you¡¯re right. Even if I had to repeat today a hundred times over, I could never say it. ¡°That¡¯s hard to say¡­¡± Inaba-san was at a loss. The tip of her ear turned red. I¡¯m sorry. Awkward silence fell over us, and Inaba-san was the first to break it. She drew closer to the unmoving me, and cautiously spoke. ¡°I guess I don¡¯t know, so¡­¡± No, she knew. But I had to pretend like she didn¡¯t know. Because if she knew¡­ Inaba-san, who knew exactly what was in my heart, made a proposal that blew my expectations away. ¡°So let¡¯s call each other by our first names.¡± ¡°Why.¡± Now? ¡°Because¡­ I want to get closer to you, Aizawa-san. Then I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll know.¡± It must be because we were best friends. We were both irreplaceable to the other. I didn¡¯t know what Inaba-san saw in me, but for me, she fulfilled my deepest desire- a friend who would be there for me the next day as well. She had been the only one, in my seventy-five years of living. ¡°¡­Michiru-chan?¡± ¡°That¡¯s way too embarrassing, and the -chan is way too cute¡­!¡± Well, Michiru-chan was also way too cute. ¡°Just call me Michiru! Just Michiru!¡± ¡°Alright, alright, Michiru. In that case, what will you call me?¡± I had a terrible premonition. Because as I looked at Inaba-san¡¯s¡­ rather, Michiru¡¯s indescribable profile, I was reminded of a certain someone calling me happily by my first name. ¡°Aya-chan.¡± I staggered, that person¡¯s face surfacing in my mind. ¡°Please no. Absolutely not. Anything but Aya-chan. Absolutely not!¡± ¡°Ah, I figured as much. I guess Yuuka-san is that special to you?¡± That was the grossest misunderstanding ever. ¡°She¡¯s so special that I never want to see her face again.¡± Yuuka was important to me, but special was not a term I¡¯d ever use. She had stepped in as my parent, but she wasn¡¯t my parent. Nor my sister. And someone completely different from a friend. She was technically my cousin, but she wasn¡¯t that either. And even though she wasn¡¯t my temporary guardian, I hoped that she¡¯d continue being a part of my life. But she would never be special. ¡°Anything but that. I went with ¡®Michiru¡¯ too, so it¡¯s only fair.¡± Inaba-san¡­ or, Michiru, nodded, pondering seriously. A gust of wind blew through the window that someone had forgotten to close and the curtain ballooned inwards, allo?wing the sunshine to penetrate our shady spot, light dancing above our heads. As we exchanged words, the dust caught the light, sparkling like stars. It was like time had stopped. Without a doubt, Michiru must¡¯ve been using magic. After all, she¡¯d said she¡¯d become a witch, didn¡¯t she? ¡°Ayaka.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± My heart jumped at the sound of my first name. I blushed. What kind of expression was Michiru making? Keeping my head hung low, I stealthily snuck a glance at her. Her face was turned away, but through a small gap in her hair peeked a bright red ear. ¡°T-that¡¯s embarrassing.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± I was a little embarrassed, but in the happiest way possible. It was almost noon, but the tepid air still contained hints of the morning temperature. From a distance came faint voices of the ongoing lessons. Those two factors reminded me that I was still living in reality, not some fantasy world of imagination. In the end, I hadn¡¯t been able to drive away Michiru. The two of us still sat inside the boundary created by the swaying curtain¡¯s shadow. ¡°Sorry for making you skip class, Michiru.¡± ¡°I¡¯d much rather be here with you than sit in class alone for over an hour worrying about you, Ayaka.¡± We¡¯d begun calling each other by our first names, and as Michiru had said, I felt the distance between us shrinking all at once. Though if we did it in front of our other classmates, it might create some weird misunderstandings. For a while, the two of us sat in the empty classroom, savouring the warmth of the other¡¯s body. Left hand linked right hand. Resisting the urge to lose myself in the comfort of her body, I opened my mouth lethargically. ¡°Michiru, I need you to do something.¡± Even as I worried that I might completely destroy the comforting atmosphere, I cut into the silence. A person¡¯s life was at stake. ¡°The person who called you out to the gymnasium, he¡¯ll be waiting there. He¡¯s in danger.¡± Ahh, only once I said those words did I realize¡­ Worrying about my best friend because of a deja vu was one thing, but fretting this much over a person I didn¡¯t even know based on a groundless suspicion was too much. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she thought I was a insane. ¡°By noon-¡± I need you to reject him and come back, but those necessary, disgusting words got caught in my throat, and I silently closed my mouth, flustered. As I tried to figure out how to convey my thoughts, Michiru took over for me. ¡°No problem. I¡¯ll go after first period ends.¡± ¡°You believe me?¡± ¡°Believe what?¡± I looked on dazedly. I¡¯d never felt such anxiety even in my dreams. ¡°The thing I said.¡± No normal person would believe such a thing. ¡°You said there¡¯d be an earthquake, right?¡± Michiru squeezed my hand. ¡°So of course I¡¯ll come back here to you.¡± ¡°Y-yeah, of course.¡± But even still, I hadn¡¯t been honest with Michiru. The structure of this world and its timelines, I could never tell her about that. Michiru believed in me, and yet I couldn¡¯t believe in her to the same degree. Compelled by a fear of being rejected if Michiru discovered the truth, I couldn¡¯t open my heart. That was my weakness. When I was a child, in order to make my parents understand my power and the secrets of this world, I used prophecies. The prophecies I uttered were precise, exact warnings. Prophecies about future events that couldn¡¯t be altered by someone¡¯s changing whim, predetermined events like the weather or television programs. I never failed to predict the weather. That much was obvious. Because the weather never changed in my repeating days. But television programs did change. I didn¡¯t realize it then, but they were live broadcasts. The chemical changes in human brains varied from one day to the next, even within repetitions of the same day. I was betrayed by the whims of young, rising television stars, which only caused my parents to stop taking notice to my outlandish claims altogether. By the next day, any physical proof of my memories of the numerous repeating days would cease to be. Maybe everything was simply in my head. Maybe I truly was delusional. That hypothesis held a weight of reality that I couldn¡¯t simply laugh off. However, it was also an objective reality that I could absolutely never accept. Which is why my prophecies were as much for my parents as for myself. My attempts never once resulted in happiness. This time had been the same. Prophet, possessed Miko, messiah, alien from NASA, and finally, witch. Such were labels affixed onto me after noon. They probably thought they were sneaky, whispering behind my back where I couldn¡¯t hear, but too bad for them, I had the ears of a demon. Their faint, nearly inaudible whispers would remain in my memory, completely intact, and I could scrutinize and study them to my heart¡¯s content. But still, I was rather surprised by the ¡®witch¡¯ label. Initially started as nothing more than a joke, the term caught on and spread like wildfire. They¡¯d hit the nail on the head. They¡¯d managed to see through me and affix such a fitting label that I even felt like heaping them with praise. Ultimately, an earthquake had occurred, destroying the scaffolding, and Inaba-san stayed with me. And with that, the odds that I¡¯d be bullied for the next twelve years of my high school had also drastically decreased. But the price I paid was immense. The hushed whispers of my classmates would likely spread throughout the entire school. The topic would come up at dinner tables where complete strangers would learn about me, and if today was chosen, tomorrow would be no different. The speed at which rumors spread never failed to impress me. Bad news always finds a way. I suppose using my memories to alter today to my liking was my own fault. That was exactly the reason my parents had discarded me, and why I was forced to spend my life in utter tedium, like a criminal locked away in a cell. It was a crime I hadn¡¯t ever thought about committing until today. And this time¡¯s punishment were the whispers. I was a prophet, a Miko, a messiah, an alien, even though I was originally only a witch. What a complicated social status. Ahh, I¡¯m begging you, god. I swear I¡¯ll do better next time, so please don¡¯t let today be chosen. Next time, I promise I¡¯ll believe in Michiru and tell her directly, and I¡¯ll reach an 11:59 p.m where no one gets hurt because they won¡¯t know anything, and I¡¯ll still find a way to build a relationship with Michiru where we call each other by our first names so please, please don¡¯t let today be chosen. Obviously, today was chosen. The Seventeenth of September A The tall trees are toppled by the wind. The short trees rot. And the tallest trees of all are chopped down. If you¡¯re too frivolous, you¡¯ll get smashed up. That was only normal. I¡¯d already gotten used to that. I managed to create a future in which a day where Michiru and I called each other by our first names was chosen. Naturally, I¡¯d achieved such a feat through brute force. Because I¡¯d made every single day other than the fifteenth of September A was a day where we called each other by our names. And in the off-chance that the fifteenth of September A had been chosen, Michiru would still be safe and unharmed so what did I care. Regardless, that day had passed. Followed by a day that had felt too good to be true. In the end, a day where Michiru and I called each other by our first names had been chosen. Though I still didn¡¯t know what that meant in terms of our relationship, or how our subtle emotions for each other would change. But at the very least, right now, I could feel delight without restraint. Because every time she called my name, I felt warm on the inside. And thereupon, I had a huge fight with Yuuka. ¡°What the hell!¡± While washing the dishes, under the guise of small talk, I brought up the events of the love letter incident, of the earthquake, of my prophecy, and so on, then as smoothly as I could, inserted the entire sequence of events and details leading up to how Michiru and I began calling each other by our first names. I was probably just wanted to boast about it. That I had a partner I could call a best friend. ¡°For the sake of argument, let¡¯s just say that there¡¯s nothing wrong with your prophecies. Since that¡¯s your choice. How you use your quirk and how you decide to live your life is up to you.¡± ¡°Why are you saying such an obvious thing so proudly¡­¡± ¡°But that Inaba-chan thing is inexcusable.¡± Yuuka exploded, her face so red that I thought she was about to have a nosebleed. ¡°You can¡¯t let yourself fall in love with Inaba-chan! You know, don¡¯t you, that that¡¯ll only cause misery. Aya-chan. Absolutely absolutely not, I forbid it!¡± ¡°Why not! And besides, we¡¯re only calling each other by our names right now! I never even-¡° -never even said anything about love in the first place¡­ The conversation was flying wildly off track. ¡°It¡¯s a ticking time bomb. I¡¯m sure of it, now that I¡¯ve heard your story, Aya-chan. I refuse, I refuse. Your older sister absolutely forbids it.¡± It was a marvelous sight, watching a twenty-three year old throw a tantrum at full throttle. I could almost see smoke pouring out of her ears. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you wanted to marry into a rich family, Aya-chan? Are you really okay with Inaba-chan? Ah, no, that¡¯s not my point. I won¡¯t allow romance in this house. Now, no more talking nonsense as long as you¡¯re living under someone else¡¯s roof.¡± I will admit that I had mentioned something about seducing a son of rich noble at one point, but at best, that was just me saying stuff without thinking. It wasn¡¯t meant to be taken seriously. Yuuka was probably well aware of that. ¡°How could you go so far as to say that?¡± I faked a gasp. As always, I jokingly mixed shock and hurt into my tone to keep Yuuka in check. However, I¡¯d failed to anticipate her true motives. ¡°I thought you knew Aya-chan. That you and normal people don¡¯t share the same common sense. I thought you knew that you don¡¯t live in the same world as them, which is why you never tried getting close to anyone else.¡± I had no rebuttal. ¡°Does Inaba-chan know? Did you tell her about your strange habit? Despite never being able to socialize with normal people, were you able to ask Inaba-chan to be your bridge to the rest of the world?¡± I know, but did she have to go that far? ¡°Strange habit¡­ what the heck.¡± What right did she have to go that far? ¡­No, she probably did have a right. Yuuka was qualified to say those words. But I didn¡¯t want to hear them. Because her words were the inescapable truth. ¡°That¡¯s right, a strange habit! A world that only you¡¯ve seen, that no one else knows about. You know what they call that kind of world? They call it a dream! A fantasy!¡± I felt blood rush to my head and I screamed. My voice inadvertently rose hysterically. ¡°It¡¯s not a dream!¡± We glared at each other, but I knew that I couldn¡¯t offer a single shred of proof for my words. Not a single lowly piece of evidence that it wasn¡¯t just a dream or fantasy. The current Yuuka in front of me had never experienced my prophecies. Not that I hadn¡¯t tried. But every time I did, that day wouldn¡¯t be chosen. All my efforts were splendidly rejected by the world, never having happened. I couldn¡¯t offer a single shred of proof. ¡°I don¡¯t dream.¡± ¡°¡­In other words, that means you don¡¯t really know what dreams are, right? To put it bluntly, aren¡¯t your claims of a ¡®today that wasn¡¯t chosen¡¯ the same thing as a dream?¡± I scoffed internally. Who had ever heard of dreams lasting five times longer than one¡¯s waking hours? But again, I couldn¡¯t refute her point. No evidence I could offer to convince her. And even if I did get her to see one of my prophecies come true, she could simply chalk up my ¡®repeating days¡¯ to precognitive dreams. Because while my claim was true, there were no inconsistencies or discrepancies between the two statements. And more than anything else, since I¡¯d never had a dream before, I couldn¡¯t explain how my repeating days differed from dreams because I simply didn¡¯t know. Humans experience dreams during REM sleep, and it was also true that humans enter REM sleep about five times per day. It was also true that I didn¡¯t dream, and that I repeated each day on average five times. I could say nothing in the face of such uncanny coincidences. ¡°Don¡¯t you think so? You won¡¯t learn anything about reality by listening to stories about other people¡¯s dreams. The only thing you¡¯ll get is your time wasted. Because it¡¯s a dream, not reality. Are you going to keep making up stories like that for the rest of your life?¡± Yuuka talked quickly and continuously, as if cross-examining me. Her impromptu monologue seemed awfully planned out, like she had thought about it thoroughly before. But her speech was more fluent and smooth than any monologue I¡¯d heard. That¡¯s how I realized it. That she¡¯d been thinking about it for a long time now, which is why her chest always felt warm. Always wanting to say it but never able to say it, she¡¯d been suppressing that feeling in her chest for so long, and I, as someone who never perceived time in the same way as humans, had never realized. She had hidden her feelings deep in her chest all while jovially smiling at me, all this time. ¡°Is that what you were thinking whenever you listened to my explanations¡­?¡± I felt like I¡¯d been stabbed. I thought I didn¡¯t need people to understand me. But only now did I realize how much of a savior Yuuka had been to me when she¡¯d pretended to understand. ¡°You know what kind of child I was, don¡¯t you?¡± I asked desperately, grasping for straws. A look of distress formed on Yuuka¡¯s carefully controlled facial features. She was probably acting that way for my benefit. ¡°I know. That you simply matured faster than others- a prodigy. The people around you said stuff like ¡®she can see the future!¡¯ or ¡®it must be her second time through life!¡¯, casual words that didn¡¯t mean anything. Your parents, just for fun, innocently decided to test the extent of their beloved daughter¡¯s talents. Right?¡± When I was a child, my parents were everything to me. The sole reason I had begun using my powers of memory in full capacity was to affirm myself in the eyes of my parents by answering their expectations. For a time, I revelled in their praise at my extraordinary, god-given power. But that time was short-lived. My parents quickly returned to their cold attitude, detesting my memory ability. For feeble, living things such as humans, a witch¡¯s memorization ability was equivalent to lethal poison. ¡°So why are you still making up stories even now?¡± Perhaps sensing the strangled, imploring echo in my voice, Yuuka¡¯s words were tight and restrained, as if she were biting back all her frustration and anger. ¡°I just, I really just want to know what you¡¯re seeing that no one else is. I refuse to believe that you¡¯re just doing this for no reason. I don¡¯t want to accept that.¡± I said nothing. Yuuka threw one last glance in my direction and left. I didn¡¯t make a sound. I noticed that my cheeks were wet and despised myself for being such a crybaby. Despised myself for crying even though Yuuka surely had more things she¡¯d wanted to say. Now that I thought about it, it was the first time I¡¯d fought with Yuuka. I didn¡¯t even know how to perform the ritual known as reconciliation. If the second tomorrow arrived, with what kind of expression should I face Yuuka with? She¡¯d probably come to visit me again. Ahh, was the exact thing with Michiru. I hadn¡¯t grown at all. If today had been a dream, then all would have been fine, but I didn¡¯t dream. I¡¯d never dreamed. If only today had been my first dream ever. Though it would¡¯ve been a terrible nightmare. So that today wouldn¡¯t be chosen, so that it¡¯d become nothing more than a dream, I fervently prayed, and then, like the end of every other day, fell into a clear, deep sleep. The Seventeenth of September B If fate really did exist, then I suppose everything that happened happened because it was necessary. But in the long time that I¡¯d been living, I had come to see that this world was made up purely of coincidences piled one on top the other. Even if the schedule written across the calender didn¡¯t change, people¡¯s plans and actions differed across days. That¡¯s all human ever amounted to- living their lives through repeating whims. So even supposing that the thing called fate did exist, it would undoubtedly be a pile of ephemeral, empty human whims stacked on top of each other. ¡°So that¡¯s basically what happened. By the way, after the yesterday you heard this story, she flew into complete rage.¡± In reality, she had been much more than angry. It had been a fatal antagonism. Today¡¯s coffee was twenty percent more bitter than usual, and I lifted the cup to my mouth with a trembling hand. I tried to take a sip but ended up gulping down a huge mouthful of the hot liquid, scalding my tongue. It was an unlucky day. ¡°That made me angry? Argh! That means I can¡¯t get angry today, doesn¡¯t it!¡± ¡°Probably. Since I already know what you¡¯re going to say, and it¡¯s hard for me to get riled up the second time around.¡± ¡°I think I understand. I wonder how Aya-chan felt after the fight with yesterday¡¯s me?¡± I fell into a contemplative silence. I hadn¡¯t considered it before, but Yuuka only ever wanted to know about me¡­ only wanted to hear about me, only wanted to talk about me. Not just yesterday, but always¡­ I¡¯d told Yuuka about numerous yesterdays that hadn¡¯t been chosen. I thought that she might be using my stories as material for a photo essay. I wanted to scoff at my own stupidity. In what universe would that possibly happen? What could possibly be interesting about my daily life where I tried to pass off as human? If my life was really that dramatic, I¡¯d still have the mind and spirit of a lively teenage girl. But instead, I distanced myself from my surroundings, adopting a resigned, farsighted, and boring outlook. What part of that was interesting? Obviously it wasn¡¯t. Which meant that from the very beginning, the only thing Yuuka wanted to know about was me. The only reason she listened to my stories was because¡­ ¡°¡­Hey, Yuuka. Do you really think my stories are interesting?¡± ¡°They are. I¡¯ll never get bored of them. Even if I listen to them everyday.¡± Yuuka smiled, her lips red with lipstick. She was lying. It was a hunch, but one that I felt sure of. That Yuuka didn¡¯t care about my stories of yesterday in the slightest. She never cared about the events of a day that hadn¡¯t happened. The only thing she wanted to know were my thoughts. In other words, there wasn¡¯t a big difference between that and an ordinary human explaining what he dreamed last night. If that were true, that the only thing Yuuka wanted to know were my inner thoughts and feelings, then her feelings for me couldn¡¯t simply be chalked up to ¡®love at first sight¡¯ anymore. ¡°Starting when?¡± ¡°Are you really planning on trying it?¡±¡± ¡°No, not that! I¡¯m asking starting when did you fall in love with me!¡± ¡°Oh, so you were asking about that. I told you, didn¡¯t I? I fell in love at first sight. Eh, but what¡¯s this all of a sudden? Have you finally decided to return my love? Have my feelings gotten through to you?¡± You wish. Though Yuuka certainly had a way of driving me crazy¡­ ¡°You first saw me when I was ten. Is there something wrong with you?¡± I met Yuuka five years ago, or in my terms, twenty five years ago. It was the winter just before my tenth birthday, and my parents had left me in the care of relatives. The members of the family relatives included Yuuka, who was a high schooler at that time. For the duration of my stay, she took care of me and treated me exceedingly well, and despite the fact that I never opened my heart to her, she seemed like a kind and reliable person. For someone who didn¡¯t along with their parents, I was incredibly grateful. But my impressions had been wrong. From that time to now, she¡¯d always held ulterior motives. ¡°Well, that¡¯s ¡¯cause you¡¯re not human, right? Ten years is way different for you.¡± That¡¯s right. I wasn¡¯t human. I¡¯d thought about it countless times. I was a different species who experienced a different time. That belief hadn¡¯t changed. Because when I misused my power, I ended up hurting people. ¡°Living in this world as a non-human is really harsh, you know. Isn¡¯t that obvious?¡± Yuuka spoke as if she was arguing with a little child, pretending to stoop to their intelligence to entertain their ideas. ¡°The dog without a master is taken to the animal shelter and euthanized, and the bear scavenging for food at the base of the mountain is exterminated by hunters. I¡¯m sure you know.¡± The example left a bad taste in my mouth, but it contained a fragment of truth. No matter who you were, if you were human, you were permitted to live. Because this world belonged to humans. On the other hand, that compassion didn¡¯t extend to wild animals. ¡°No one will protect you. You¡¯re not allowed to live if you don¡¯t have someone who needs you.¡± Because if you¡¯re useful to someone else, you¡¯ll receive money, and without money, you aren¡¯t allowed to live. ¡°You have so much more time than other people, huh. Have you thought about trying to be useful to someone else even once?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t I tell you about a lot of stuff¡­¡± I knew. That Yuuka wasn¡¯t talking about that. Yuuka was telling me to earn my wage in society. To learn independence by working with peers my age, to repay the kindness from one¡¯s dearest parents and in doing so, foster one¡¯s sense of community service, to fill one¡¯s life with all those experiences and activities needed to mature into an adult, experiences and activities that Aizawa Ayaka of fifteen years was fatally lacking- that was what she was trying to say. ¡°You do. But instead of that useless stuff, it should be something more meaningful and beneficial.¡± ¡°You mean, beneficial to you?¡± ¡°No. I mean to the people of this society. If you can prove yourself beneficial to the this society and to others, you¡¯ll graduate from being my pet cat to a member of the world.¡± Why was I being lectured by her out of all people? It was extremely vexing. I hated it, but the fact that I could feel hate or any emotion in the first place was solely thanks to her. The only reason I was alive right now was because she had taken care of me all this time. ¡°For example, math. For ordinary people, they¡¯d much sooner be able to grab clouds than discover a new theorem, but for you, it¡¯s very much in the bounds of reality. At any rate, you have five times the time of others. Isn¡¯t that a reason to study? Oh, speaking of time, you could also aim to become a shogi or go master. Memorizing openings and patterns would be your specialty, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± Asking me to optimize my everyday life by using my memory felt like an indirect insult. ¡°For important games of shogi, even if you lose, four of the five times won¡¯t happen. And because you have a perfect memory, you¡¯ll never lose the same way twice. And you¡¯ll be able to calculate infinite moves ahead because the board in your head will be perfectly clear.¡± Yuuka had a faraway look in her eyes. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll become a genius at the game. And in that case, if you ever experience difficulty, there might be people willing to help you. Other than me.¡± Yuuka stopped and took a breath, smiling kindly. ¡°But you know, being useful isn¡¯t necessary.¡± Yuuka¡¯s gaze was so amiable that I trembled with fright and disgust. A chill ran up my entire body. She most certainly was not making excuses for me. ¡°As long as you don¡¯t feel any desire to live as a human, there¡¯s nothing wrong with staying the way you are.¡± Yuuka might¡¯ve been feigning a smile, but in that face was an unmistakable, disgusted scorn. I wanted to flee, to be anywhere but here. ¡°No one will ever be able to understand the strange everyday that you keep babbling on about. To be honest, I¡¯m dubious about your claims. After all, you¡¯ve never offered proof of your repeating days. And on the contrary, there¡¯s seven billion people on the planet to serve as counterproof. ¡°But that¡¯s fine. Because your unassuming, dull eyes, which never ask for the understanding of others, which never beg for sympathy, which never lament at your unmatched misfortune ¨C I find those eyes irresistibly beautiful.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never heard more disgusting words of love in my life. That¡¯s the most horrible compliment I¡¯ve heard in my seventy-five years of life. I am so grateful that you would offer such words of love to someone as elderly as me.¡± I suddenly was filled with energy, and saliva flew out of my mouth as I spit out those words. ¡°As if someone like you could be considered elderly. You¡¯re a child. I don¡¯t care how long you¡¯ve been living, but you¡¯ll never grow into an adult if you spend all your time living a teenager¡¯s carefree life. Call yourself an adult only after you¡¯ve survived twenty years living along without relying on someone else¡¯s wallet and roof, and then endure twenty more years of mourning for your parents all while never ceasing your determination, and then, only then can you call yourself elderly. Aya-chan, you¡¯re still just a weak little child.¡± ¡°What do you¡­ I¡¯ve already lived for seventy-five years. ¡­I¡¯ve endured it.¡± ¡°And in those seventy-five years, was there a single moment where you realized that friendships aren¡¯t eternal? That someone even more precious to you than yourself would one day become nothing more than tiny bones buried in the ground, where you started to question the meaning of life itself?¡± ¡°Who¡­who are you?¡± In front of my eyes was someone¡¯s face I¡¯d known for a long time, someone¡¯s face that I was sure I¡¯d see even in death, and yet, and yet it felt like I was staring at a stranger. I didn¡¯t know if Yuuka noticed my trepidation. But she didn¡¯t entertain my question with an answer. ¡°Hey, Aya-chan. ¡­To you, is life just a endless chore of enduring an eternity of boredom and tedium?¡± How could I find happiness and interest in repeating days where every day resembled the next? Such days were indeed boring, but they weren¡¯t only filled with boredom. ¡°I know you enjoy your time with Inaba-chan. But there¡¯s no way someone as smart as you hasn¡¯t realized it yet, is there?¡± ¡°¡­realized what?¡± ¡°Why, when despite the fact that your everyday life is filled with boredom, the time you spend with Inaba-chan is filled with joy no matter how many times you repeat them.¡± At the end, I heard her mumble something like I¡¯m so jealous. But I understood her point. Why did someone like me, who claimed that I didn¡¯t need to live for anyone, find a life where I didn¡¯t live for anyone so boring and tedious? In other words¡­ the fact that I lived only for myself was the cause of my boredom. Whenever I was Michiru, I¡¯d fuss over every small detail to ensure that she¡¯d be happy, and as compensation, I¡¯d be rewarded with endless amounts of joy. And not just Michiru, but Yuuka as well. When I spent time with Yuuka, I went through great efforts to make our time together enjoyable. ¡°So let me ask you again. When you fought with me, how did you feel?¡± I averted my eyes. I didn¡¯t want to answer honestly, but I also couldn¡¯t evade her question. ¡°I hated it when we fought. When I thought that we might never reconcile again, I was really scared.¡± That was my conclusion after only a single day of thinking. Yuuka drained the rest of her coffee, seeming satisfied. ¡°I see, I see. But you don¡¯t need to worry about that. Because I could never come to hate you.¡± Though we hadn¡¯t technically fought today, I¡¯d taken infinitely more damage today than yesterday. If yesterday had been akin to getting sliced open by a sharp blade, today was the equivalent of getting thrown into a whirling meat grinder. A wound with a clean cross-section was easy to treat and healed quickly. But if that wasn¡¯t the case, if the wounds had been etched and gouged deep into the body, then ugly scars would remain behind. Yuuka had probably done that on purpose. For all this time, she had offered me infinite patience and kindness free of charge, acting like my personal nurse while I childishly declared myself an old woman. Of course she hadn¡¯t been satisfied. Without a doubt, the second time around had been worse. The Fourth of October C On the appointed day of Konoha High School¡¯s Thirtieth Cultural Festival, the weather was beautiful, a clear, cloudless autumn day. At intervals, a delightful gust of breeze would blow past. During the mornings and evenings, the wind might feel chilly, but throughout the day, not even the weakest constitutions would feel discomfort. And while the wind had never promised its appearance in the cultural festival, Michiru had, and as promised, we went around browsing the cultural festival together. The school interior, having been decorated with various attractions and themes, felt like a completely different world. We systematically went through all the attractions, mostly thanks to Michiru, who never hesitated to dive in headfirst every time something new caught her eye. She was really indiscriminate when it came to things that caught her eye. ¡°Ayaka, I knew you were good at studying, but I didn¡¯t know you were this good!¡± I¡¯d completely laid waste to the student council sponsored english vocabulary contest. My english vocabulary consisted of one hundred thousand dictionary entries. Apparently, it was the first time a first-year had won. Normally, I wouldn¡¯t do anything so immature as fully use my powers in a silly competition, but according to Yuuka, I was just a little child, so that shouldn¡¯t be a problem. Not that I was angry about that or anything. Michiru looked at me concernedly. ¡°You won the whole thing, but I feel like you¡¯re sulking, just a little.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sulking or anything.¡± Yuuka¡¯s words lingered in my mind, and I couldn¡¯t shake them off. And so here I was, making Michiru worry and exactly just like a child, and at the same time, I was filled with happiness at the thought of Michiru worrying about me. My cheeks felt like they were about to burst open from happiness¡­ I guess I really was a child¡­ ¡°Do you maybe¡­ not enjoy being with me?¡± So when Michiru murmured those words, my heart froze to its very core. Flustered, I glanced at Michiru only to see her eyes sparkling with a twinkling, mischievous light. ¡°Don¡¯t say things you know aren¡¯t true.¡± In secret, I stroked my chest, trying to rid myself of my anxiety. I¡¯d hid my flusteredness well enough¡­ probably. Michiru had no reason to abandon me. As that though crossed my mind, I realized that I might¡¯ve already become hopeless beyond salvation. I squeezed her hand and I felt her squeeze back- such a joyful festival would only last one day. The festival had occurred yesterday, and the day before that as well, but I still didn¡¯t let go of her hand once. ¡°I don¡¯t mind you sulking though. You¡¯re really cute when you do.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not cute.¡± ¡°Ehehe.¡± As I looked away from Michiru, trying to escape both her loose, carefree giggles as well as the violent throbbing in my chest, I changed the subject. ¡°Where do you want to go next?¡± ¡°I have some friends in the handicrafts club so let¡¯s go there.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± The handicrafts club¡¯s exhibit was located in the arts and crafts classroom. From the amount of people present, it seemed to me that clubs would receive more applicants during the cultural festival than the beginning of the year. ¡°Woah¡­ Ayaka, aren¡¯t you way too good at this?¡± As we braided friendship bracelets, Michiru stared intently at my hands. They were words I¡¯d gotten tired of hearing. Before I¡¯d met Michiru, those words were always followed with How repulsive¡­ but now, ¡°Are you maybe a genius?¡± No one else had complimented me like that before. ¡°Yeah, I am. I¡¯m a genius.¡± I had said those words yesterday too, and the day before. Why shouldn¡¯t I? While repeating the same things over and over was the thing I hated most, it was also what I was best at. After finishing my own bracelet, with nothing else to do, I found myself engrossed in Michiru¡¯s hands. Her long, thin fingers, her glittering nails. Her lightly moving fingertips. ¡°Having fun?¡± ¡°Yeah. Your bracelet is really pretty,¡± I answered. I was with Michiru, so I was having fun. And even if something was painful, she was by my side so I could endure it. ¡°Hey, if you don¡¯t mind, do you want to exchange bracelets?¡± ¡°Sure, but¡­¡± I really had become hopeless beyond salvation. Without Michiru, I really might die. Even after we left the arts and crafts room, I hadn¡¯t nearly had my fill of fun yet. We browsed through an art exhibit held by Michiru¡¯s friend in the corner classroom on the third floor of the northern building admiring her painstakingly crafted artwork, enjoyed the third-year horror enthusiasts¡¯ haunted cafe, and snacked on delicious cotton candy. I immersed myself in ordinary as if trying to flee something else. The student council was giving a presentation on their sociology research, while, which wasn¡¯t particularly interesting, wasn¡¯t boring either. As I turned my gaze away from the presentation to the gymnasium¡¯s main stage, which featured the rakugo club¡¯s masterpiece- a intricately designed play featuring Run Melos, a Truly Spectacular Performance Made Possible by our Brilliant Actors, Who Have Put in Countless Hours of Practice Supported by the Gods. And while I didn¡¯t dispute the performance or actors¡¯ brilliance, the play had been the exact same for the past three days, so I was somewhat bored. Michiru didn¡¯t fail to notice my sigh. ¡°Ayaka?¡± ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m just a feeling a little tired.¡± ¡°Are you okay? Want to go somewhere quieter?¡± It was the third fourth of October. The third cultural festival, but the first time this development had occurred. With Michiru holding my hand, I staggered to my feet. Where should we go? We walked down a hallway, dyed orange by afternoon sun, already beginning its western descent. The voices of students filled with delight faintly could faintly be heard, and through the window, I caught sight of the still silhouette of a boy and girl in the opposite corridor¡­ I felt like I was walking in page one of adolescenthood. Eventually, Michiru returned to the art club¡¯s exhibit, guiding me along. The sun¡¯s rays filled the empty classroom. The multicolored paintings, under the sunlight, shone with unique hues. A fairy-tale scene. ¡°I guess everyone¡¯s already returned to their clubroom.¡± The two of us were sitting on the garden bench in the corner of the room that had been prepared as a place from where one could view all the art. For a short while, I relished the comfortable silence. Not wanting to shatter our own, peaceful dreamland, completely cut off from the rest of the physical world, I held my tongue, letting Michiru¡¯s warmth wash over me as she too sat motionless beside me. A tranquil where we could feel each other¡¯s breaths, a warm and soothing time, a time that, as cliched as it might sound, I wished would stretch until eternity. But I suppose I was a human who wouldn¡¯t be satisfied in eternity. I¡¯d definitely get bored eventually. So when Michiru finally did open her mouth to speak, I didn¡¯t mind in the slightest. ¡°I¡¯m relieved. Recently, I feel like you¡¯ve looked unhappy, Ayaka.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Michiru¡¯s voice was faint, almost a whisper. From my perspective, two and half months had passed since I¡¯d been rebuked by Yuuka. I thought I¡¯d recovered from that incident a long time ago. ¡°I think it started around maybe two weeks ago?¡± Despite my best attempts at feigning normalcy, she¡¯d seen perfectly through me. ¡°¡­yeah, you¡¯re right.¡± That day hadn¡¯t been chosen. Both days, painful, agonizing days, had ceased to be, vanishing into the ocean of probability. Like nothing had happened, Yuuka had stopped by my house tens of times already, and in each of those visits, we talked about mundane nothings and I beat back all her attempts at sexual harassment. Just as always, but I couldn¡¯t remove the tiny thorn that had implanted itself into my heart. ¡°But you seem to having fun today. I¡¯m glad.¡± Hey, Michiru. Don¡¯t show me kindness. She was being nice to me because she didn¡¯t know that I was an actual witch. My vision blurred. Without a doubt, it was because I¡¯d been blinded by the setting sun. I heard the whooping voices of students frolicking about from afar. The classroom was too quiet. Because I couldn¡¯t find the words to reply to Michiru. ¡°Don¡¯t cry, Ayaka.¡± I was wrapped in an embrace. By who? That was obvious. There was only one person with me. ¡°Because I can¡¯t forgive people who make Ayaka cry.¡± -Eh, what the heck... My chest hurt so much that it felt like it would rupture. Did I hate it? Did I find the feeling repulsive? I didn¡¯t hate it. The feeling¡­ I couldn¡¯t put it into words. Because if I put it into words, I could never turn back again. My face burned, red. I couldn¡¯t look directly at Michiru. Yuuka had been correct in her future prediction, however hasty she had been. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be best friends, aren¡¯t we?¡± Michiru said. ¡°No, not supposed to. We have to be.¡± That was wrong. We weren¡¯t best friends. True best friends didn¡¯t make tactless assertions about their relationship. I stole a sidelong glance at Michiru, whose ears were bright red. What kind of expression was she making right now, I wondered. If I wanted to find out, it had to be now. If I looked now, I¡¯d remember for all of eternity. ¡°People might come.¡± ¡°No one¡¯s coming. ¡®Cause I reserved the whole place to ourselves.¡± Michiru¡¯s eyes glittered teasingly. My heart throbbed. ¡°Earlier, when I saw your expression,¡± Michiru continued. ¡°I was really surprised.¡± ¡°Earlier?¡± ¡°When I said that that you might not enjoy being with me. I was joking, but I could tell you were super shocked and flustered.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not true.¡± Seeing Michiru¡¯s eyes stained with emotional tears and her luscious lips, my inner thoughts were thrown into chaos. Emotions I couldn¡¯t put into words writhed in my chest. When I silently called her name, my chest warmed. This one person understood me. She allowed me to clutch onto hope. ¡°Do you remember? The day we first met.¡± ¡°¡­the day of the entrance ceremony, right? You barely made it on time,¡± I replied. I remembered it like it had happened yesterday. Even without my superhuman memory, that wouldn¡¯t change. I never wondered if Michuru had been embarrassed at that time. Because her face had been flushed crimson red. ¡°What about the first time we ate lunch together? Remember that?¡± ¡°I remember how Michiru forgot her bento.¡± Thinking back, I had a hunch that every time I made lunch for Michiru, the distance between us had shrunk. It had already become obvious, but I wanted more time, even just a little, to prepare my heart. Those mixed feelings passed back and forth between us, disguised in our roundabout conversation. ¡°When I admitted that I wanted to become a witch, do you still remember that?¡± ¡°How could I forget? Even though you still haven¡¯t shown me any magic yet.¡± Though I¡¯m sure that the day would come where she would show me a wonderful world I¡¯d never seen before. That day would come. Was it a premonition, or an intuition? ¡°¡­the first time we fought.¡± ¡°¡­I wouldn¡¯t really call that a fight though.¡± Even now, my cheek occasionally stung from where I¡¯d been slapped. I wished I could forget the entire thing, but recently, I didn¡¯t mind it even if I didn¡¯t forget. Somehow, I¡¯d come to terms with that memory. ¡°And the expressions and emotions of an Ayaka that you never showed in school.¡± ¡°I was so embarrassed I wanted to die.¡± In the same way that I wanted to see all of Michiru¡¯s various expressions, I think Michiru must¡¯ve wanted to see all of mine. Ahh, that was it. I understood why it couldn¡¯t be Yuuka. Because while I realized that Yuuka had a multitude of hidden faces and personalities that I didn¡¯t know about, I was afraid of discovering them. But with Michiru, it was different. I want to know more. I want to keep staring. When I saw her innocent, beaming smile, I knew the sincerity of those feelings bottom of my heart. After I came to that realization, I became surprisingly honest. ¡°How did you feel when we called each other by our first names?¡± ¡°My heart was racing.¡± Whenever I called her name, whenever she called my name, a violent mayhem assaulted my chest. ¡°What are you feeling now?¡± ¡°The same feeling as Michiru, I¡¯m sure.¡± It must be love. A reckless feeling where my mind was boiling, but I didn¡¯t care no matter what happened. A feeling with an unmistakable shape. Gentle, and warm. ¡°¡­¡± Lasting just a single second of my lifespan was the longest kiss. ¡°Ehehe, I got to taste Ayaka.¡± Michiru¡¯s cheeks were dyed, wearing a smile so soft and gentle that she seemed like she would melt. I was probably wearing the same expression. ¡°What kind of taste¡­¡± ¡°A delicious one.¡± I couldn¡¯t chastise her for being an idiot. Because I too had become an idiot. Bliss. No other words could describe it. ¡°Somehow, I feel like I¡¯ve done this with you before, Ayaka.¡± That¡¯s just your imagination. Not deja vu. Today was the first time I¡¯d kissed her, and even on the todays that weren¡¯t today, we hadn¡¯t kissed. My absolute memory guaranteed it. ¡°I see,¡± I stammered. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I glanced fleetingly at Michiru, whose face, illuminated by the sun, had turned as red as her ears. My heart thumped so loud I feared it might break altogether. ¡°Hey¡­ can we do it one more time? Please?¡± I got greedy. Stirred up by a premonition. ¡°Yeah¡­ ¡­mm-¡° I likely wouldn¡¯t get the chance to taste a kiss so sweet for a while. So right now, I wouldn¡¯t hesitate. A day as blissful as the fourth of October C was never meant to be chosen. T/N: While I don¡¯t like making promises about when the next chapter is going to be released, one month is a little too long even for me. On the other hand, these chapters are rather long, so we¡¯ll see what happens I guess. Volume 1 - CH 4 Let me preface with this: Today, Michiru will die. The Fifth of October A I woke to a morning that I had been dreading from the bottom of my heart. From the curtain rail rollers, I knew the calendar date had changed. They were in different positions than from the morning of the fourth of October. Every night, I pulled closed the curtains, and the curtain rail rollers would all end up in slightly different spots on different days. By paying attention to these minute differences in the objects in my room, I could know which yesterday had become reality. This wasn¡¯t limited to curtain rail rollers. For instance, the direction in which the kitchen faucet faced. For instance, the order in which the books were piled on top of each other. For instance, on a certain yesterday evening, the location where my schoolbag had been placed. The fourth of October C hadn¡¯t been chosen. A day I wished for so desperately could never be chosen. That one fact alone, a tragedy that I should have long become accustomed to already, caught in my chest and refused to move. Emotions far too large and heavy suddenly leaked out from my eyes. Most likely, some part of my heart had become soft. I¡¯d wanted to believe in such innocent, pure fantasies like ¡®fate.¡¯ And even as I lifted my body, I couldn¡¯t muster up the energy to leave the bed. I knew I had to prepare to go to school, and yet all I could do was sit motionlessly, my knees growing wetter and wetter. It shouldn¡¯t have been like this. Since last night, no, even before that, even before the end of the fourth of October C, I had steeled myself for the inevitable. And yet. I wasn¡¯t allowed to hope for a future where a single reality played out and was chosen- if only miracles like those could occur. Altogether, the Fourth of October had occurred 6 times. There was no chance I¡¯d win such a slim, one in six lottery, was there? But I¡¯d wanted to believe. Because if I hadn¡¯t believed that that innocent, pure fourth of October C would continue, then the following days starting from the fourth of October D would all feel pointless and dull. For the first time in my life, I skipped school. I knew that the instant I distanced myself from everything I considered boring and tedious, I would have nothing left. Which is why no matter how painfully stale the ever-repeating days became, no matter how difficult they were to endure, I still made an effort to at least attend school, but now, even that felt repulsive. Would I to nonchalantly head to school, see Michiru, who knew nothing and remembered nothing, and get hurt once more? As if. That question alone was a drug easily powerful enough to push me back into the depths of my bed. A loud, muffled knock suddenly resounded from the front door. Naturally, the only one who¡¯d ever visit would be Yuuka, and I¡¯d locked the door before sleeping, so I could ignore her without worry. But I wondered why she¡¯d visit at this time of day. Maybe the school had contacted her regarding my absence. Doubtfully, I lifted my head and rubbed my eyes. I crept out from the midst of my slumber. The digital watch near my pillow read 12:30. Since I couldn¡¯t dream, whenever I accidentally fell asleep then woke up again, it always felt like I¡¯d inexplicably jumped several hours into the future. Another somewhat reserved knock sounded again. The first knock probably seemed loud only because I was half asleep, I mused as I forced my body up. The reflection I saw in the mirror looked straight out of a horror film. Half-open eyelids and eyes swollen from crying, pajamas wrinkled and slovenly from sleep, hair twisting and turning off into whichever direction it pleased. ¡­My image was frightening beyond belief. Even true love would surely be chilled to its core at the sight of me. Well, it was only Yuuka anyway. I walked to the door, lightly running my fingers through my hair in a mostly futile attempt to tidy it up, and turned the doorknob. Blinding sunlight flooded through the doorway. ¡°Huh? Why are you-¡° I squinted my eyes against the radiance, and in my limited vision, I saw¡­ a silhouette that I hadn¡¯t anticipated. The unmistakable silhouette of Michiru. I didn¡¯t know why, but Michiru was here. Even true love would surely¡­ ¡°Waahhh.¡± With a shocked what!? and an ahhh! both trying to force their way out of my mouth, the sounds got caught in my throat and mixed together, and a weird noise ended up escaping my throat. Now that I¡¯d shown such disgraceful behavior to Michiru, death didn¡¯t seem like such a bad option. I was so embarrassed. I wanted to die. ¡°S-sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to surprise you like this.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t look at me! S-stop! Don¡¯t look¡­¡± I ducked, cowering behind the half-open door, clutching my head. Like a turtle curled into its shell, I tried to escape Michiru¡¯s gaze even if only by a little. If the front door was the entrance to the underworld, then the side I was on was hell, and I was an undead spirit. Specifically, in terms of my appearance. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Are you not feeling well?¡± Michiru¡¯s voice came from above my huddled form. Once more, I wanted to shout don¡¯t look! but a disheveled girl hiding her hair while repeating ¡®don¡¯t look at me¡­ don¡¯t look at me¡­¡¯ bore far too much resemblance to a B-tier horror film. While it might¡¯ve been okay with Yuuka, telling Michiru to straight up leave was extremely difficult. I didn¡¯t have it in me to say that. ¡°M-Michiru-san¡­ please spare me and look away¡­¡± What was I even saying. I was like a pathetic warrior begging for the enemy to have mercy on her. Yet I wasn¡¯t a warrior, making my words truly nonsensical. ¡°Sorry. Even when I asked the teacher, all they said was that you had an unexcused absence so¡­ I was worried.¡± Without hesitation, Michiru ignored my pleading and boldly strode into the room. I felt so shameful that my eyes welled with tears. Lamenting that that one day hadn¡¯t been chosen- no, it wasn¡¯t anything as beautiful as lament¨C it was a bitter grudge, due to which I had neglected the day in front of my very eyes, causing my friend to worry about me. I was deplorable. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m fine. I just overslept a little.¡± Half-resigned to my fate, with my back still turned to Michiru, I frantically tried to clean up my appearance, combing my hair with my fingers and scraping off the remnants of tears from my cheeks. My hands, stiff with tension, moved clumsily like blobs of goo. ¡°Ayaka, you¡¯re quite the liar, aren¡¯t you.¡± It was exactly as Michiru said. Who would ever believe that these bloodshot, red eyes were due to nothing more than oversleep? It was a childish lie that couldn¡¯t even trick an elementary schooler. As a bitter smile formed on my face, Michiru looked at me worriedly. Only then did I realize. ¡­What was I doing? I shouldn¡¯t be grieving a day I¡¯d lost. ¡°Wait here for a second. I¡¯ll go make preparations real quick.¡± Right now, I would clutch onto that happiness in front of me, clutch onto it so tightly that it would never escape. By the time we left the house, a light rain had begun to fall outside. There was something about how the moisture clung to my skin that felt unpleasant. ¡°So something really did happen. Sorry. You don¡¯t have to go out of your way to walk with me.¡± ¡°It¡¯s no problem. I was really happy that you came to see me.¡± I could spend as long as I wanted shut up in my room, crying, but that wouldn¡¯t change anything. If I valued that lost day that much, then I should act now in order to grasp that happiness once more. Her left hand felt slightly warm in mine, filling me with hope that I might soon find the warmth I so desperately desired. ¡°Really? Are you sure you¡¯re not pushing yourself?¡± ¡°Well, maybe I am, just a little. But I¡¯d much rather this than than make you worry about me.¡± Another lie, but this time, she was holding my hand. Meaning my lie would be exposed in no time. ¡°Nah. This is just me being selfish.¡± I blinked. ¡°Selfish?¡± ¡°Yeah. When I didn¡¯t see you in school, I felt really unhappy.¡± I wondered how Michiru was able to talk about her emotions so directly. Why couldn¡¯t I convey my own feeling honestly to Michiru? But I was a little relieved. Because I was certain that Michiru¡¯s cheeks were dyed the same color as mine. A speeding car raced past us, skidding through puddles and splashing up muddy water in its wake. Michiru had brought an umbrella, but all her efforts were extinguished in that one instant as I became drenched from head to toe. My hair, soaked in water, became unbearably troublesome to deal with. If I had a gauge to measure my depression, it would¡¯ve been at the highest possible value. Even at my age, I was once more reminded of the saying ¡®bad luck always comes in pairs.¡¯ Michiru¡¯s flustered voice pulled my depressed self back into reality. ¡°H-hey, Ayaka¡­!¡± Michiru tugged on my arm. As I followed her gaze, I saw an absurd, unrealistic scene spread before me. The slight discomfort from the rain shower, along with the peaceful atmosphere, was instantly obliterated. The car which had showered me with mud continued to speed wildly, climbing straight onto the ramp of a carrier car stopped in front of it and continuing forward. It didn¡¯t slow down in the slightest. What the hell was happening!? Without losing any speed, it rammed straight into the driver¡¯s seat of the carrier car before falling into the opposite lane, its front left headlight shattering into what seemed like a thousand pieces. An incoming car from the opposite lane, unable to stop in time or turn away, collided headfirst into it. -Was this still reality? Thunderous rumbles overlapped with the screams of onlookers as the entire area shook. The two of us, at a complete loss, stood stock still, watching. We only gripped each other¡¯s hands tighter. Because other than that, frozen with fear, there wasn¡¯t a single other thing either of us were capable of doing. This event alone would already be huge catastrophe, but for the two of us, the true tragedy was what followed. The fallen car exploded. Its fuel tank had probably caught fire. Thick, black smoke rose into the air as the explosion knocked nearby people to the ground. Agitated by the shockwave, the driver of the car behind the first lost control of his vehicle. The car barreled around wildly, zig-zagging in every which direction, and somehow, the car ended up speeding directly towards the two of us. It was almost purely out of reflex. Holding firmly onto Michiru¡¯s hand, I frantically jumped out of the way. I didn¡¯t have time to do anything else. The car climbed up the shoulder, and unfazed by the guardrail separating the sidewalk from the road, crashed headlong into a telephone pole before finally grinding to a halt. The poor telephone pole instantly filled with cracks, the top half breaking off diagonally. The helplessly dangling telephone lines were luckily still suspended, but barely airborne. We¡¯d been standing there barely a second ago, but we didn¡¯t have time to feel relief or fear. In the brief fraction of a second where I shut my eyes from the collision and rumbling and vibrations, I felt a sharp blow against my skull. There wasn¡¯t any pain. Because before I could feel any pain, a whirl of events unfolded in front of me in rapid succession, almost too fast to follow. At that point, it was too late for me to do anything. But at the same time, due to my absolute memory, I was aware of every tiny detail. As I received the blow to my head, I became dazed, until someone- well, of course I knew who it was. Michiru thrust me away, launching me aside. I didn¡¯t have to think about why. My gut told me. That the area had become dangerous. Ah, this is no good¡­ I stared as a part of the hood of the car, which had created this whole mess to begin with, became dislodged from the explosion, watching it fly directly towards the place where I¡¯d just been, where Michiru still was. To me, the whole process seemed to take a long time, but in reality, it happened almost instantly. ¡°Michiru! Michiru¡­!¡± Half-crazed, I screamed her name. But there was no way she could respond. She no longer a possessed a mouth that could reply. The hood, spinning at high speeds through the air, had fallen onto her, ripping her into shreds. Perhaps god was the compassionate one, or perhaps it was the car hood, but whoever or whatever it was, they raised up that sharp, gleaming body of steel and hid away the corpse, along with that unbearable pain, hid it away from my eyes, instead informing me of the tragedy that her body was beyond salvation in the most roundabout way possible: by painting her fresh blood across that metal. Something dark obscured my both my eyes. I wondered why I felt something slippery on my fingertips. It was my own blood, oozing out of the wound on my head, covering my vision and and hands. My sight had quite literally gone dark. Amidst the greatest misery and misfortune I¡¯d ever known, there was one single saving grace. By some miracle, I¡¯d been spared from seeing Michiru¡¯s corpse. If her body hadn¡¯t been obstructed from view, I would¡¯ve clung onto the faintest of hope that she might still be alive, and looked. I didn¡¯t have the resolve to carry that memory for eternity. Driven to the brink by such a grotesque scene, who knows what I would¡¯ve done. I found out later, but apparently I¡¯d been struck on the head by the passenger mirror of car that had run rampant. According to others, the mirror had traced out a parabola in the air, smashing directly into me. Not that I cared. ¡ï If only the two of us had never met. I was in the hospital, awash with regret. If only I had gone to school this morning like every other day, today would¡¯ve concluded without a single mishap. Of course, tomorrow would be boring and tedious, but the occasionally pleasant days would also continue. If only I hadn¡¯t clung onto that kiss, Michiru wouldn¡¯t have come to my room, and I¡¯d still be able to see her smile. I sat on a bench in the waiting room. I didn¡¯t shed a single tear. I only trembled. Why had I obsessed over that kiss? Why had Michiru died, and not I? Why, in the midst of a life shackled away in countless chains, had I found something precious to me? I got forty stitches in my head. My entire face was wrapped in bandages, like a mummy. I was in too much of a shock to react to anything. This reality had to be a lie. I couldn¡¯t accept it. Tomorrow couldn¡¯t come fast enough. Tomorrow, the fifth of October B would begin. I¡¯d be able to see Michiru again. To see her light, beaming face, to touch her soft, gentle hand, all that would again be within my reach. No words could express how thankful I was for my special privilege. It¡¯d been the same as that time with Yuuka. Just like with that time, I would redo it all. To lower the probability that the worst possible today would be chosen, even if only by the smallest degree. I would take advantage of the special privilege I¡¯d been given to the greatest possible extent. If that was a sin, then so be it. I certainly couldn¡¯t care less. During the night of the fifth of October, I prayed. Please, god, please just don¡¯t choose the fifth of October A. I probably wouldn¡¯t stop praying for the next few days. Starting today would probably follow several, sleepless nights. The Sixth of October A But there was only one sleepless night. Because the long-awaited fifth of October B never came. After the first iteration of the fifth of October followed the sixth of October. For anyone other than me, that would be the most obvious and normal of course of events. But for me, it was frighteningly rare. A tomorrow which I hadn¡¯¡¯t yet experienced came several days early. An irregularity that normally would¡¯ve made me jump with joy, but today alone made me gnash my teeth in frustration. Only a single fifth of October. A fifth of October that had already been chosen. I didn¡¯t shed a single tear. But a part of my heart wept bitterly at the knowledge. This cruel, malicious fate would never allow it. Never allow me to see Michiru again. As I succumbed to derangement, I remembered all the unlucky things in my life up to now, expecting that the worst was still yet to come. I was wracked with grief. But I uttered not a single sound. If I let out a scream now, I probably wouldn¡¯t be able to stop myself from screaming curses until my throat collapsed. If I cursed now, I would probably wouldn¡¯t stop cursing the world until the end of the world itself. Screaming meaningless incantations. Pointless words screamed by a me who had never known how to use magic. Indeed, in order to cover the reality that Michiru had died, I needed magic. I couldn¡¯t accept such a reality. I had to search for some incantation that could reject reality. After over ten hours of fumbling blindly through the darkness of my memories, I found, in seventy-five years worth of recollections, a single piece of magic. ¡î That magic was surprisingly close. ¡°You called?¡± On that evening, I called Yuuka. The fact that I called someone who would¡¯ve come even had I not called meant it was an emergency- and it was a crisis in every sense of the word. Even if I were held at gunpoint, I could not accept Michiru¡¯s death. Burning with a desire to prove that my belief wasn¡¯t for show, I was driven by a necessity to act for Michiru¡¯s sake. To show that it wasn¡¯t too late to act even now, because I would try everything in my power. Even Yuuka¡¯s aloof behavior that I normally never paid attention to now annoyed me to no end. ¡°You¡¯re a witch, aren¡¯t you.¡± I knew. Michiru had taught me that. Witches existed in this world. No one would ever believe such an unexpected claim, nor did I possess the ability to confide in another person, but they certainly existed. That hypothesis explained one of the supernatural phenomena I¡¯d experienced. ¡°¡­Aya-chan, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re saying.¡± Yuuka craned her neck in feigned puzzlement, raising her voice. She sat down on the bed, swinging her knees back and forth like a child. ¡°But more importantly, I heard that a major accident happened in this neighborhood. Apparently, a lot of cars got involved in it. Have you heard?¡± Ignore it. Both her nonsense words, and the pain that was gouging out my heart. ¡°I know how you¡¯ve been lying about these repeating days. You¡¯re using magic, aren¡¯t you?¡± I shoved my face directly in front of Yuuka, my expression hardened with resolve. The first step to blackmailing Yuuka and forcing her to obey was to make myself look bigger, so I had no other choice. ¡°Ooh, you¡¯re making my heart race.¡± ¡°Cut the crap.¡± ¡°Sorry, but fantasy is outside my area of expertise.¡± ¡°When was it again, where you died on a twenty-third of May that wasn¡¯t chosen?¡± ¡°Oh, that must¡¯ve been when you called me first thing in the morning, right? You sounded so cute then.¡± Yuuka giggled in the most revolting way possible. I knew I¡¯d never get anywhere like this, so I drew away from her. ¡°That day, I told you about the accident, so you were able to avoid a day where you should¡¯ve died. Right?¡± Yuuka leaned forward. ¡°Hold on a sec. Aren¡¯t you mistaking me for god or something? Well, no matter what happens or doesn¡¯t happen, I¡¯ll always be someone who loves Aya-chan dearly and be there for you, so I might seem like a god to you, but I¡¯m not, so how would I ever be able to select the day that gets chosen or anything?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to play dumb. Did you forget? Well, I don¡¯t forget. I already realized. On the morning of the twenty-fourth of May, something happened that shouldn¡¯t be possible.¡± On that day, I had thought this: Yuuka was extraordinarily fortunate. Because in a lottery where five of six twenty-third of May¡¯s would lead to death, Yuuka had escaped unscathed. But that was the wrong conclusion. The reality of the situation was different. ¡°On that morning, I woke up in my own room.¡± ¡°An evening filled with passion and amor hadn¡¯t been chosen. You¡¯re right, that is a tragedy.¡± Yuuka acted as if this whole thing was a theatrical play, nodding seriously as she continued to feign ignorance. ¡°In order for you to live, I had to wake up in your room. Or at least, that should¡¯ve been the case.¡± In the six iterations of the twenty-third of May, there were only two variations. Variation one. Minase Yuuka leaves her house to meet an old friend, then calls her cousin while on the road. However, while heading towards her cousin¡¯s house, she gets into an accident. Her cousin, tired of waiting for her, falls asleep in her own room. Variation two. Just before leaving her house, Minase Yuuka receives a mysterious phone call from her cousin that she usually looks after. Warned of her supposed death, she cancels her plans to go outside at the last minute, and later welcomes her cousin at her house where the two spend the night. Variation one occured five times while variation two occurred once, for a total of six times. These were the two classifications of the twenty-third of May. ¡°I woke up in my own room, which, while unfortunate, meant that you had no choice but to die.¡± Looking at only the hard facts, this was an inevitable conclusion. Yuuka craned her neck, looking very interested. ¡°So, does that mean I¡¯m a zombie right now?¡± ¡°I¡¯d say you¡¯re a creature far more vicious than that.¡± For instance, a witch. ¡°On the days where you didn¡¯t come, you didn¡¯t see my corpse, did you? What if I didn¡¯t actually get into an accident on those days, and you didn¡¯t know about it?¡± Yuuka asked. Of course I¡¯d already considered that from the start. On the morning where I¡¯d woken up in my own room, I¡¯d thought that Yuuka was dead. Upon calling her and hearing her voice, I¡¯d been relieved from the bottom of my heart. She was alive, and that was all that mattered. The day where I¡¯d stopped her from going outside had been chosen, but even had I not done anything, she wouldn¡¯t have encountered an accident. That there were also twenty-third of May¡¯s like that. Back then, I¡¯d stopped thinking once I reached that conclusion. ¡°Then, on that day, why didn¡¯t you come to my house?¡± She¡¯d gone out of her way to call me, saying that ¡®today, I¡¯ll be a little late-¡®, so the human known as Minase Yuuka should have come to visit that day. As long as she didn¡¯t get into an accident and die. ¡°¡­¡± There was power in Yuuka¡¯s silence. I was about to enter a forbidden territory. Even for a witch cursed with unforgetting, it was unforgivable. But that wouldn¡¯t stop me. Behind me was Michiru¡¯s death. Which is why I could never turn back. ¡°You chose a day that never occured.¡± I declared. In this world, each day repeated, and while I didn¡¯t know how many times each would repeat for, it was clear that a single day was chosen to become ¡®the past.¡¯ I wouldn¡¯t know which day would be chosen until the following day. I wouldn¡¯t know, but there were things I did know as well. For instance, that a day must be chosen from one of the repeated days. Yuuka had violated the rules of this world. She chose a fake day. She forced a day onto the world. How powerful of an existence would be capable of such a feat? Not even the richest or most influential human on the planet. I couldn¡¯t read Yuuka¡¯s expression in the slightest as she stared at me intently for three seconds¡­ before breaking out into a leering grin. ¡°You¡¯re quite the detective, Aya-chan.¡± She admitted it. Sweat dripped down my back and face as I clenched my fists in triumph. Starting now. One important condition to ridding myself of this garbage reality was in this very room. She and I were the same¡­ or probably not, but at the very least, we were both existences who had strayed off the ordinary path, living on the outskirts of humanity. ¡°In order to delete the realities you didn¡¯t want chosen, my warning was necessary, right?¡± The true reason that Yuuka always listened to my stories of past iterations was to reliably avoid troublesome outcomes, such as the end of someone¡¯s life. ¡°On May of- um, what day was it again?- I was really surprised to when I got your phone call. Not only did my insurance against a one in a million accident work properly, but I also got to hear your frantic voice so worried about me. That was a happy miscalculation.¡± It wasn¡¯t a meager power that only let her choose between days that had occured. No, it seemed to transcend that completely. She could choose possibilities that had never occured in the first place. It was far closer to omnipotency. But as that hypothesis entered my mind, a voice which promptly rejected that omnipotence. ¡°It¡¯s nowhere as powerful as what you¡¯re probably imagining. My magic is more like, stitching together patchwork.¡± Yuuka explained her magic casually, without putting on any airs. Her magic only allowed her to cherry-pick events from individual days to form a reality. In other words, she could mix and match things that had already occured, but she couldn¡¯t form realities out of thin air. ¡°Aya-chan, if you hadn¡¯t created a day where I lived, then I would¡¯ve met my genuine end right then and there. Alright, how about I give the great detective who saved my life her reward? Shall I return you to yesterday?¡± Her words exceeded all my expectations. I would¡¯ve given anything and sacrificed everything for Yuuka to say that, and yet here she was, speaking those words as if they were nothing at all. ¡°Is that really possible?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll just cut out today and connect it to yesterday.¡± ¡°No way¡­¡± ¡°There¡¯s a ton of wondrous and strange things in this world, you know. It¡¯s just that you¡¯ve always believed your special ability to be ¡®absolute memory,¡¯ so you thought that there was nothing else anomalous about the world.¡± In my defense, the fact that I alone couldn¡¯t forget anything already made the world anomalous enough. ¡°Is that wrong?¡± ¡°It is. What do you think memories are, in general?¡± ¡°Vicarious experience, I guess. Of the past.¡± When we humans remember something, we recall sensations and feelings, much different to reading a book or watching a movie. This is precisely the reason that an experience¡¯s weight can be falsified based on one¡¯s moral values, or in other cases, memories can directly contradict with actual events. Yuuka sighed and shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re completely off. By nature, around eighty percent of a human¡¯s memory is comprised of visual information, ten percent is auditory information, and the remaining space is occupied by the other senses. All this information is verbalized and stored as memories. That¡¯s the important bit. It¡¯s verbalized information. With me so far?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it more precise to say that language indexes the memories?¡± Yuuka nodded, seeming satisfied, before continuing. ¡°We also use words as a sort of key to remember things. Known as declarative memory, we change senses and experiences into words, eliminating small details. Otherwise, the well-developed yet unwieldy organ known as the brain wouldn¡¯t be able to maintain such massive amounts of information. Thus, humans forget. Sounds kind of like Buddhism, now that I think about it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s exactly Buddhism. What are you trying to say?¡± ¡°You¡¯re different. At the very least, you can¡¯t forget. You also don¡¯t need to use words as a key. The reason, as you just stated, Aya-chan, is because your memories are a vicarious experience. A reliving, if you will. ¡°The true nature of your memory is that when you remember, you¡¯re re-observing the past as you once experienced it. It¡¯s something like rereading the pages of a book. Human memories are something completely different, a completely different dimension. Just think about it. Human vision has a focal point. Just because something is visible doesn¡¯t automatically mean it becomes part of memory. For instance, even if something enters a human¡¯s vision range, it might be in the peripheral, or the person might not be paying attention, so they don¡¯t see it.¡± I couldn¡¯t see how this woman, saying these logical, intellectual words, could possibly be the Yuuka I knew, but her speech struck a chord with me. If you tried to look at the corners of your vision, you¡¯d lose focus of the center. The inverse was also true. A natural result of the biological structure of the human eye. ¡°But for you, Aya-chan, when you close your eyes and try to remember, you can recall everything. You can re-observe everything however many times you want, even if you never saw it originally. The fact that you never questioned that is proof enough of your ability. Your absolute memory is a bonus to a more otherworldly power. The fact that you can¡¯t forget is just an annoying side-effect.¡± Facing a truth that I hadn¡¯t ever realized until now, I was filled with a suffocating horror. A cold, liquid sensation of unhappiness seemed to clog up the back of my throat, rendering me nearly unable to breathe. My legs felt unsteady. What I¡¯d always believed to be a peculiarity of my absolute memory was actually a unique ability to observe and experience the past as many times as I wanted. No, wait, that wasn¡¯t the problem. ¡°For the time being, I¡¯ll assume what you¡¯re saying is true. Then how are we supposed to redo yesterday? It¡¯s already been ¡®chosen,¡¯ hasn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a witch, remember? And if I can see it, then I can find a way there. If I have you, Aya-chan, the best telescope I could hope for, then I can easily find ¡®yesterday.¡¯ After that, patching yesterday to today will be simple.¡± It felt like a dream. I could retry yesterday, and perhaps even destroy the reality where Michiru had been lost. ¡°And what¡¯ll happen to today¡¯s sixth of October A?¡± ¡°Who cares?¡± Yuuka shrugged without hesitation. I was of exactly the same opinion. A day without Michiru was meaningless to me. Absolutely no value to me at all. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind if today was erased altogether.¡± The witch Minase Yuuka began chanting in a booming voice. ¡°Today will not be chosen. I will not choose today. I, as a witch, have already declared this. Thus, this conversation as well as any event after this will all become null upon today¡¯s conclusion. For the remainder of today, you can do anything you want, Ayaka.¡± She laughed obscenely, her profile mirroring that of a demon, and I secretly shivered in fear. Well, no, she was actually a demon. She was a witch who had tamed her inner demon. Did I hesitate? As if. I wouldn¡¯t think twice even if I had to sell my soul. I would save Michiru through whatever means necessary. ¡°Well then, what will you do? In this remaining time, will you try and think of a way to save Michiru? Or, will you try committing murder in an act of defiance? Today, you can do things today you¡¯d normally never get to experience. Or, what about trying some lewd things with your cousin? Mm. That sounds like a pretty good idea, if you ask me. There are some perks in it for me too. Mhm.¡± ¡°What are you talking about.¡± I had no purpose, nothing I wanted to do, in a world without Michiru. ¡°I¡¯m not waiting any longer to go back.¡± I rapidly made my way to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, gripped it until my fingers turned white, then squeezed my eyes tightly shut before finally returning my stare to the blade¡¯s edge. A torrent of primal fear washed over me, but my resolve wasn¡¯t so fragile that it would be dulled by such petty emotions. ¡°Aya-chaan. That¡¯s a pretty clever idea, but are you really sure?¡± For me who didn¡¯t dream, if I lost consciousness then woke up again, I would feel like I jumped into the future. My heart never wavered. I closed my eyes and plunged the blade into my throat. It ripped through my aorta. It felt about as painful as a papercut. I thought that dying would involve more agonizing pain, like being burned alive, so it was quite literally the letdown of my life. But I was relieved. If this was how dying was, then I could die as many times as I wanted. While I basked in reassurance and relief, life poured out of the cut I¡¯d made. Yuuka, for whatever reason, seemed to be enjoying herself. A smile, devoid of any humanity, surfaced on her face. ¡°Ah, Aya-chan¡­ I guess you just proved that no matter what bitter and painful struggles you go face, you¡¯re not even allowed to die properly.¡± The Fifth of October B Waking up was not pleasant. It was a sensation akin to someone was pulling out all my eyelashes. My head hurt. My body was heavy. When I became fully conscious, I noticed I was lying in bed. I had no perception of time. When had I woken up yesterday? I couldn¡¯t even answer as simple question as that. Had I hit my head on the corner of my bed while sleeping and lost my memory? For a moment, I fiddled with that silly fantasy. I couldn¡¯t recall the last thing I did. As the owner of absolute memory, it was the first time in my life that I¡¯d experienced something like this. I felt dizzy and faint. Good thing I was lying in bed. I calmed myself, closed my eyes, and slowly began to order my thoughts. Being unable to recall something and forgetting something were two separate things, therefore- Therefore, it was important to recall the events I could remember. I put a hand to my lips, first remembering the feeling of my last kiss. A kiss- our hands linked as we returned to the classroom, then our hands waving farewell in front of the school gates as we parted- I remembered the morning of the fifth of October, and how the day of my first kiss had been lost. Then after that¡­ Within my narrow mind, an entire day¡¯s worth of events were suddenly revived, various images and scenes flashing before my mind as if I were watching a spinning lantern. Then after that, after that¡­ Michiru died. In an effort to find magic that could deny reality, I called out to Yuuka, and she granted me my dearest wish. I had acquired a second chance at the fifth of October. I unrolled myself from bed and got up. I opened the curtains. The morning light represented a chance of a lifetime. I could hardly believe it. Soft, pure sunlight came forth to greet me. ¡­It was raining. It shouldn¡¯t have started raining yet. This was the first time I¡¯d seen the weather change. It was probably due to the fact that the second fifth of October had been forcibly started. Today was certainly special. What was I saying? I chided myself. Maybe I was still half-asleep. My body rapidly grew colder, and I shivered. Until now, I¡¯d never experienced even a single day where the weather was different. Could such a small magic really affect the weather itself? Propelled by a foreboding premonition, almost entirely by reflex, I turned to the clock on my bed stand. 1:01 p.m. I¡¯d completely overslept. My throat turned dry and frigid. My despairing brain matter seemed to gush out all at once, and I would¡¯ve vomited then and there had not my stomach been utterly empty. Late¨C the single word echoed throughout my heart and mind. On the fifth of October A, at this time, where had I been? What had I been doing¡­? I didn¡¯t want to remember. How I stood at the scene of the accident, covered in blood, crying my heart out. By the time my brain even registered the sound of the front door loudly slamming shut, I was already outside, shoes not even worn properly as I ran as fast I could, my legs tripping over themselves, about to collapse at any moment. Passerby¡¯s all turned to stare at me. Every single one. Gasping for breath, I ran towards the school, a route I knew by heart. I didn¡¯t know the probability of Michiru visiting me today, but if she had come already, then she¡¯d undoubtedly have turned back by this point, heading back to school, where it wouldn¡¯t be out of question for her to have encountered that gruesome accident again. If such a thing as fate truly existed, then those course of events would surely have taken place, meaning that my oversleeping would have lost me my hard-earned, invaluable opportunity. As I continued forward, the pungent smell of something burning grew more and more distinct. Though it was raining, the air was dusty, shaken by a commotion that was tinged with unpleasantness. I saw the passenger vehicle, emitting a dense, black pillar of smoke. It looked more like a battlefield than a car accident. An apocalypse reeking of gasoline, fine shards of glass littering the ground. The police still hadn¡¯t arrived, and no yellow tape had been stretched around the site yet. Nevertheless, the gathering crowd watched from afar, for there wasn¡¯t anyone apparently brave enough to approach. Yellow tape or not, no one could be fooled into thinking that the place of the accident was somehow safe. I crossed the invisible boundary between safety and danger. A single voice called for me to stop, but I ignored it. I dodged a restraining hand, and I sprinted forward. ¡°Michiru!¡± My hair fluttering behind me, I rushed in to check for any sign of Michiru. On the opposite side of the car that had toppled onto its side. A pair of bare feet. The tip of a pair of petite, feminine feet. Someone had collapsed there. ¡­I had to check. I wasn¡¯t afraid. I carefully avoided the pools of gasoline and did my best to ward off the tornado of soot emitting from the flaming passenger car, verifying her safety. A tiny groan escaped from her lips. She was alive. She- wasn¡¯t Michiru. It was a woman who looked slightly older than Yuuka. She¡¯d likely crawled out of the driver¡¯s seat, only to be injured by the detached door. Blood streamed down her face as she moaned in pain. When I¡¯d ascertained that Michiru hadn¡¯t gotten entangled in the accident, I was flooded with relief. For an instant, I considered abandoning this woman, but my mind froze in that split second of indecision, and by the time I regained my senses, I discovered my body moving towards the woman on its own. ¡°Are you okay? Can you hear me?¡± After a pause, she gave the tiniest of nods. I lent her my shoulder. I¡¯d never supported someone heavier than me, especially not someone who could barely walk, and she staggered against me. My legs were shaky as I took my first step towards safety. ¡°Ayaka!! Let go of her!!¡± In the distance, standing in the front row of the spectators, I caught sight of a pale-faced Michiru, shouting. Michiru¡­ was alive. Thank god she was safe. I nearly cried. Ahead of me was a mere ten meters of hazard. What a simple, happy ending. ¡°Ayaka!!¡± Michiru started running towards me, looking frantic. What was she in such a rush for? Time seemed to slow down, each second dragging into minutes. Just a few centimeters further and I¡¯d be able to reach her hand. I could hold her once more. Ah, was she coming to help carry this woman? -How stupidly wrong I was. I couldn¡¯t speak. Strength surged through my entire body, sparks flew into my eyes, my back burned¡­ I reached out my hand. Towards a hand swimming across the sky, brushing against its fingertips. ¡°Stop! Aya, duck!¡± A thunderous roar drowned out Michiru¡¯s shrieks, and they never reached my until the very end. My back burned¡­ why was it burning again? But I didn¡¯t have time to wonder, and the last thing I heard before my consciousness cut out was Michiru¡¯s voice. The reason for loss of consciousness was simple- it was because I was dead. Every naive, innocent thought I had right up until that moment was blown away by a gasoline explosion, killing me along with Michiru and the woman. Wasn¡¯t I a reliable savior! But, that was fine. I could undoubtedly redo everything. Because a day where I died would never, under any circumstance, be chosen. The Fifth of October C I leapt awake. The curtain rollers indicated that it was the fifth of October. I verified with the calender. It was barely 6 a.m. I breathed a sigh of relief. This time, I had a little more space to work with. I could still make it in time. I could change reality. Could I really¡­? Sure, I might make it in time. But, could I really change reality? I knew. That this world repeats. A single calender repeated several times, but only a single day would be chosen and become part of history. In the midst of these repeating days, people did things or didn¡¯t do things by pure whim. Events differed in each iteration. Natural phenomena such as earthquakes or the weather, or things prepared in advance like love confessions were exceptions. A chill ran down my back. There were things you couldn¡¯t change in this world. Both instances of Michiru¡¯s death involved that accident. If it was a traffic accident, then I could change it. If an event was due to mere coincidence, then even I had a reasonable margin to intervene. But, what if it wasn¡¯t something I could change? In Japan, the odds that a single person is involved in a traffic accident is 0.0011%. Naturally, since humans live comparatively long lives, there¡¯s nothing strange about someone encountering a car accident at some point in their lives. But on the flipside, the percentage that someone is involved in a traffic accident two days in a row is 0.000000013%. One in eight billion. Infinitesimally smaller than winning even the slimmest lottery. Could I simply chalk Michiru¡¯s death up to an unfortunate coincidence? Or perhaps¡­ Today was the third fifth of October. My deepest fears became reality. School ended, we parted ways at the school gates, and after a short while, I passed an ambulance, heading in the opposite direction as me. Needless to say, wild imaginations of my worst nightmare whirled through my mind. I instantly turned around, breaking out into sprint towards the station that Michiru normally used. If I simply waited for tomorrow without verifying anything, it would be too late to act. Miracles didn¡¯t occur twice. But as I reached the front of the station, the only trace of Michiru I found was the familiar sight of her bag. Her belongings spilled out of its half-open brim, scattering all over the ground. I nearly lost my composure, but at the same time, an unattended bag didn¡¯t necessarily mean that Michiru was in dire trouble. She¡¯d clearly fled, but this wasn¡¯t the worst case scenario- yet. As I deceived myself, I received a call from Yuuka. By the time I reached the hospital, I found Michiru¡¯s mother sitting on a couch in shock. Clutching onto Michiru¡¯s bag, I explained who I was, and we waited together. ¡°Aya-chan, believe. Stay strong.¡± Yuuka¡¯s words echoed from somewhere above the heavens. A long time passed. A very long time where I did nothing but pray. The sun made its way west, sinking towards the opposite side of the hospital ward, below the purple curtain, until the day turned into a starless, pitch black night, where I once again was informed of Michiru¡¯s death. So what if I believed? I still had to contend with the reality of fate. I knew the method to ensure this day wouldn¡¯t be chosen. The Fifth of October G The seventh fifth of October. I felt at ease once I arrived at school. My punishment for losing focus came swiftly- at the stairwell, Michiru crashed into a student playing a prank and fell down forty stairs. Her elbows and knees were thoroughly scraped during the fall, which concluded with Michiru hitting her head and losing her life. The Fifth of October H I caught Michiru¡¯s arm as she was about to fall at the stairwell. We tumbled down the stairs together, and I was able to change neither my helplessness nor the fact that Michiru hit her head and died. The Fifth of October Y At first, I was somewhat dubious, but I was certain now. Fate had decided that Michiru would die. Inevitable events like the weather or natural phenomenon couldn¡¯t be affected by humans, remaining perfectly consistent every iteration. They had already been predetermined. But that didn¡¯t make it an acceptable reason. I couldn¡¯t give up. I¡¯d realized a while back. About my special ability. A day where I died couldn¡¯t be chosen. If I died before the conclusion of today, today wouldn¡¯t be chosen. And if there wasn¡¯t an available day to be chosen, the next calender day wouldn¡¯t come. Because I would no longer exist to observe tomorrow if today was chosen. A sort of survival bias came into play in the choosing of a day. As long as I continued to die, I could redo today as many times as I wanted. However, I couldn¡¯t accept this reality. Not observing something was the equivalent of it not existing at all. When I closed my eyes, the world ceased to exist. I drew open the curtains, bathing in the morning sun, in triumphant spirits as a plan to save Michiru once and for all began to form in my head. -But it didn¡¯t work. It didn¡¯t work today either. The Fifth of October Z I did everything in my power to avoid the pattern from the fifth of October A, scrutinizing every last detail, only for the day to unfold just like the fifth of October C. The difference was that this time, Michiru was still alive at 10 p.m, which was the deadline I¡¯d set for myself. The doctor explained Michiru¡¯s precarious state, staring anxiously at her mother who donned a brave front. That was when I understood. Today, Michiru was probably beyond saving. Even if by some miracle she survived today, she wouldn¡¯t be able to open her eyes again. She¡¯d never fully recover. Michiru¡¯s accident would be chosen, and this truth alone would carry into tomorrow. And by that point, everything would be too late. ¡°Aya-chan, believe. Stay strong.¡± ¡°¡­¡± I didn¡¯t need to be told that by Yuuka. No matter what circumstance, my determination would never falter. It was almost 10 p.m, after which I would force myself to become Sleeping Beauty. I only had to do one thing. Squeezing my bag close to my chest, I ran. To a place where no prying eyes could find me. This was a hospital after all, and if I wasn¡¯t alone, I might end up being saved. Failure was unforgivable. I wouldn¡¯t care in the slightest if someone else¡¯s matters or problems weren¡¯t chosen, but in this case, even a single misstep was unforgivable. I paid no heed to voices calling me to stop, my feet pounding across the floor. ¡­Ah, I should¡¯ve put a fruit knife or something in my amulet. Soon, I arrived at the courtyard. I hid in the shadows of the trees, praying no one would find me, and took out a design knife from my pen case. The blade was two centimeters long. It wasn¡¯t a pleasant death. The Fifth of October AA~ Since the number of days had surpassed the number of letters in the alphabet, I appended a second digit! What a splendid feat! It was a base-26 number system! I did it! I wasn¡¯t happy in the slightest!! Please save me¡­ Looking back at the past days amounting to slightly under one month, I could conclusively say that, for the me of seventy years, this had been the most tedious and pointless month of them all. I already had come to terms with the fact that living for solely my own sake was utterly boring. But this was the first time where I realized that living solely for the sake of another was equally, if not even more dull. Even though at first, it had been relatively enjoyable, even though I¡¯d gotten the chance to experience so many new things, even though they were days I should¡¯ve never been able to grow tired of, my life right now was beyond miserable¡­ How many times had we lost our lives? How many different ways had I taken my life, died and died, greeted a new day then died again, clinging onto the belief that one day I could welcome a tomorrow that would conclude while I still lived, repeating the same day again, repeating and repeating, unable to form even a single day worthy to be chosen, and failed again. Like a chick who had the misfortune of being born a male, a day would begin, and by the time half the day had elapsed, I had already ended up at the bottom of the meat grinder. After telling her about my ability and the world¡¯s secrets, I informed her of her own inevitable death. I no longer cared about the means. I held back nothing, begging, pleading for her to run away with me. If I couldn¡¯t confront fate, then I would run away, as far away as necessary, run away forever if need be. But the instant that I took Michiru¡¯s hand and began to run, from a crevice between dark thunderclouds came a bolt of lightning that robbed her of her life. Lightning? When I turned at the sound of thunder, staring at reality in the face, an involuntary chuckle slipped from my mouth. Something inside me broke. It was absurd. No matter how many times I repeated a day, wasn¡¯t the weather supposed to stay constant? I wanted to scream that this wasn¡¯t allowed, but there wasn¡¯t a single person who would notice my protests. No such person would appear. There wasn¡¯t room to negotiate. Only the feeling that I, standing alone, had been so easily betrayed. Thinking back, the gasoline explosion had been much the same. Reality wasn¡¯t an action movie, and no car that underwent routine public inspection exploded so easily. Something like that couldn¡¯t be rationalized by simple misfortune- it had been due to the interference of a being beyond understanding, a being far beyond humans. It was an insanely wild theory, yet still logically consistent. If such a being did exist, then it was pointless for a mere human like me to fight against them. That being must surely be god. And if not, then fate, or perhaps the will of the world. That didn¡¯t bother me in the slightest. Who my opponent was was of no concern. For the sake of protecting Michiru and her future, I would do anything. I wouldn¡¯t let anyone touch a single strand of her hair. Searching for some means of survival, I turned to fictional books. Numerous books featured characters who solved seemingly impossible obstacles by going back in time or crossing into parallel dimensions, through countless efforts of trial and error until they achieved their long-desired future. I tore through whatever books I could get my hands on, whatever caught my eye. I thought that if I could use even one book as reference, it would be like a godsend, but wherever I looked, I only found characters possessing incredible, otherworldly powers that I lacked. A day began. Then ended. Variations appeared in each day¡¯s course but the end result never changed. I passed over a year¡¯s worth of time in constant repeat. At some point, for the first time, my own perception changed. Saving Michiru was impossible. I was simply a human who couldn¡¯t forget, having no ability beyond that. I had no superhuman strength nor exceptional intelligence. Nor friends. Forget going back ten years in the past to prepare- I didn¡¯t even have the freedom to go back to yesterday. I didn¡¯t possess the ability to communicate with a me from a parallel world and ask for advice, or forcibly alter this worldline and fundamentally change future possibilities. I didn¡¯t have a powerful battlesuit stored anywhere. No allies that I could rely on. Therefore, in order to achieve a happiness that I was undeserving and unworthy of, I needed to pay a proportional compensation. If I simply fell asleep and waited for the next day, such a tomorrow would never arrive for all of eternity. I couldn¡¯t go back into the past, so I wouldn¡¯t let tomorrow arrive. For all of eternity! And in that most repulsive moment, a switch was flipped within me and my mind danced in revelation. I would give up on tomorrow. I would throw away the day after tomorrow and the day after that as well. This week and this month and this year, I would throw all of them away. I had no need of a future beyond the fifth of October. If tomorrow never arrived, I¡¯d be able to meet Michiru every morning. For only a few hours, of course, but a few hours where we¡¯d be together. Compared to a future where I bereaved the death of the one I loved more than anything else, or to the fairytale about two lovers who could only meet once a year in the night sky during the Star Festival, this future was unsurpassably luxurious, to the point where I wanted to embrace it and never let go. As I gazed down at Michiru¡¯s corpse, coming to terms with her death today, I ended today in an oh-so-familiar fashion. The first thing I did the following morning was visit Michiru¡¯s home. I knew I¡¯d only be causing her trouble, but the scarcity of time pressed me on. Michiru, still bleary-eyed from sleep, welcomed me at the door, while her affectionate mother didn¡¯t seemed perturbed by my rude intrusion, going so far as to treat me to breakfast. On this day, I learned that Michiru ate western-style breakfasts. ¡°Why¡¯d you come pick me up today?¡± Michiru asked. ¡°I woke up early today, and I wanted to see you. Was I a bother?¡± ¡°Not at all, it¡¯s just¡­ that¡¯s quite the detour.¡± The walk to school was refreshingly pleasant. The gentle sun shone warm rays of light on us as we walked surrounded by a brisk, autumn chill. ¡°But more importantly, want to eat lunch together? I made a bento,¡± I ventured. ¡°Woohoo! Obviously yes!¡± Michiru reached out and gripped my hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world, our linked hands childishly swinging back and forth. Ah, this was bliss. I was in bliss. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s so obvious. You¡¯re really popular, after all, Michiru.¡± ¡°Today, this Michiru-chan belongs to Ayaka and Ayaka only!¡± ¡°You¡¯re a smooth talker, aren¡¯t you¡­ well, I¡¯ll believe you.¡± If only tomorrow could be even more fun. ¡­That was a stupid thought, I suppose. The hand held in mine suddenly grew limp. ¡°Michiru¡­?¡± The sound of blood splattering onto the ground wrenched me back to reality. A large motorbike had swerved onto the sidewalk and rammed into Michiru. The massive, front tire bared its fangs, ruthlessly devouring Michiru¡¯s collarbone. I attended school showered in lukewarm blood. The fact I¡¯d paid for today with Michiru¡¯s life became glaringly apparent, and I recoiled in horror. The Fifth of October ALM And, so what? No matter the price, I couldn¡¯t stop here. I repeated, and she died. No- it was because she died that I kept repeating. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? The subject and object had long since melded together. My heart no longer shook when I gazed down at Michiru¡¯s corpse. I didn¡¯t need my heart. It should been obvious ever since that rainy day where I made Hamano Aria cry. If I had a goal, the means didn¡¯t matter. A witch didn¡¯t hesitate to take the wicked path. I repeated, and continued to repeat, reaching the one-thousand and first fifth of October. -Today was one turning point. -The atmosphere in the classroom felt different. Michiru, who should¡¯ve slid in at the last moment and barely avoided being late, was already there, but her expression seemed somehow grim. The always beaming Michiru looked serious to the point of being unapproachable, and furthermore, she was sitting in my seat. ¡°Good morning, Ayaka.¡± ¡°Morning¡­¡± It seemed like she¡¯d been waiting for me. Somehow, I knew that she had something she wanted to tell me. Was she angry? After all, recently I¡¯d been doing nothing but commit terrible crimes. Unable to accept the facts, I was continuing to redo today, rationalizing my actions as self-sacrifice. I¡¯d already become numb to the value of life. ¡°Follow me for a second.¡± I was right. I followed Michiru out of the classroom. We walked down the corridor. Moving against the stream of students heading to class, then down the stairs. Toward the second floor filled with classrooms, empty due to the declining population, into a single room. As soon as we had entered, Michiru whirled around to face me, and abruptly crashed into me. A rejuvenating numbness that made me feel like a teenager again spread throughout my body. My lips buzzed fiercely where her lips touched mine. My voice broke as I objected. ¡°W-why¡­¡± ¡°Hmm, that¡¯s not right¡­ The Ayaka I know would¡¯ve pouted and said something like ¡®I don¡¯t like it when you¡¯re forceful like this.''¡± Not only had she stolen my lips, she¡¯d even complained. The sliding door was still open. I didn¡¯t feel a single fragment of romance. The girl in front of me wasn¡¯t the Michiru I¡¯d known up to yesterday. She was the first person ever who remained my friend even as the calendar day changed, the person I wanted to be closer to than anyone else, the person who I had previously only kissed a single time, but she was a counterfeit in opposition to all of that. She went straight to the point. ¡°Hey, Ayaka, this world repeats. Right?¡± ¡°!?¡± I froze. My throat constricted. ¡°Why, do you say that.¡± ¡°I remember. What kind of person you are, Ayaka. The curse as well. You can¡¯t forget, right? Neither fun things, nor painful things.¡± My eyes were saucers like a deer in headlights, and I found myself unable to move. Leaving me frozen, Michiru continued on ahead. ¡°So, this world repeats. Around five times per day on average.¡± I was sure that my heart really stopped for a second in my shock. Without a trace of exaggeration, I could firmly say that a feeling like my pulse had been dislodged ran through my spinal cord and throughout my body. ¡°Did I¡­ tell you?¡± My mind raced frantically, dredging up memories. From the day I met Michiru to now. The one-thousand nine-hundred sixty six days from the sixth of April A to fifth of October ALM, I recalled them in a heartbeat. I had indeed exposed my own secret to her. Just a single time, but it hadn¡¯t been chosen. But I¡¯d never told her about the secrets of this world. Truly, never a single time. ¡°Yeah, you told me. I¡¯m not lying. I remember. About what¡¯ll happen today, and about yourself.¡± If I didn¡¯t doubt Michiru, then- ¡°You¡¯re saying that my memories are incomplete?¡± ¡°If you ask me, I think they¡¯re pretty complete.¡± She snickered. A face I¡¯d never seen before. ¡°It¡¯s magic. Time-leap magic.¡± The one standing there was a witch in the guise of a girl. Some creature wearing my best friend¡¯s face that had transcended humanity. I¡¯d thought it was just a deja vu magic that let her mysteriously know the afternoon weather. At some point, she¡¯d told me. That she¡¯d become a witch. While I had believed her, a part of me hadn¡¯t fully believed. ¡°I¡¯d forgotten until now, but I come from the future. I returned so I could see you again, Ayaka.¡± Strangely, I was convinced. That was the reason for her afternoon weather deja vu, and why she¡¯d inadvertently called out to me even before we¡¯d known each other. Perhaps that¡¯s why she¡¯d always fretted over someone like me ever since. I couldn¡¯t begin to imagine how far into the future she had come from. She must¡¯ve returned from a future where she¡¯d overcome the fifth of October and come to help me find a solution. I desperately willed my imagination to accept that explanation. ¡°I know what you¡¯re doing, Ayaka.¡± In other words, the person who¡¯d come from the future had seen through every one of my twisted actions. ¡°Are you going to stop me?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± Her reply was swift. She was grinning. ¡°Why would I stop you? You¡¯re doing it for my sake, and if it makes you happy then by all means.¡± She looked mature, like an adult, to the point that I couldn¡¯t picture her as the same Michiru. She must¡¯ve come from a future so farfetched and distant, so different from what I knew. ¡°By the way, what iteration is it right now?¡± she asked. ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± ¡°Unlike you, I forget things.¡± ¡°The one-thousand and first. One thousand and one fifth of Octobers.¡± Apart from Yuuka, it¡¯d been around thirty years since my last conversation with another human about the hidden aspects of this world. ¡°Is this the first time we¡¯ve had this conversation?¡± ¡°You should know that.¡± ¡°Because your reaction when we kissed was super refreshingly cute.¡± ¡°¡­idiot.¡± Michiru, her eyes sparkling mischievously, resembled yesterday¡¯s Michiru almost to a T, where if I judged solely solely on outward appearance, I wouldn¡¯t have believed that she¡¯d come from the future. The intercom buzzed to life, carefreely announcing the start of class. As if it were only natural, the two of us ignored the summons to ordinary life. The desks and chairs in the empty classroom were arranged in neat, orderly rows. Almost like a funeral, where they bid farewell to a coffin containing all of ordinary life. I couldn¡¯t hold back my questions. A feeling like I was clinging onto my sole lifeline. ¡°Tell me. Why did I have to repeat today over a thousand times? What¡¯s really happening?¡± ¡°Ayaka, do you think god exists?¡± But Michiru only circled around the answer that she surely knew, and like a slimy snake, the answer slid easily out of my grasp. ¡°There¡¯s no way god exists.¡± To me, this world was hell. And because it was hell, if there really was a Creator, he could only be the devil. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. God doesn¡¯t exist. Then, whose fault do you think this is?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like it when you¡¯re teasing like this.¡± ¡°Hehe. Alright, I¡¯ll tell you. It¡¯s the world¡¯s fault. You could also call it fate,¡± Michiru said definitively. The world. I suppose I did figure as much. That¡¯s what I¡¯d always thought. We¡¯d turned the world into our enemy and fought. Rebelling with powerless fists against an absolute power that had surpassed all possible human intellect in an incessant war. ¡°What exactly do you mean by the world¡­¡± Even if the whole world becomes my enemy!- there were times I¡¯d encouraged myself with those overused cliches. ¡°For instance, let¡¯s take something like those lottery machines at shopping districts.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never seen one of those in my life.¡± You only saw them in manga and movies. If you turned the handle, a single colored ball would fall out. Depending on the ball¡¯s color, you might get the top prize, free tickets to an onsen, or bottom prize, some pocket tissues, and so forth. ¡°Neither have I.¡± Michiru giggled softly. Even at a time like this, hearing her familiar, gentle way laugh made me feel at ease. ¡°Don¡¯t get off topic. Chance decides the color of the ball that falls, right?¡± I said. ¡°Yeah, exactly. This ¡®chance¡¯ is the question in doubt.¡± The world was a massive billiards table, or perhaps a series of dominos. Ever since the creation of the universe, the world has always been nothing more than the ultimate domino chain, dominated without exception by the rigid laws of physics. Things that might look complicated at first glance were simply the culmination of physical law upon physical law. For humans of remarkably limited intelligence, such order was impossible to see. For us observers, they were a multitude of coincidences- ¡®chance.¡¯ But to an all-powerful, all-knowing being, they would see a set of pre-established events in motion. Such a being could command even ¡®chance¡¯ to dance in the palm of his hand. Chance wasn¡¯t real. ¡°But, how is that connected to you losing your life?¡± ¡°Probably because I¡¯m about to become a witch,¡± Michiru said casually, as if that was all there was to it. Michiru had formerly said. That she would become a witch. It was an extraordinary statement, but if we were talking about extraordinary, then repeating each day an average of five times probably took the cake. We were equal in that regard. But, I digress. ¡°Wait a second. What do you mean, that it¡¯s because you¡¯re about to become a witch?¡± My voice trembled. Are you not a witch already? Didn¡¯t you come to save me with your magic wand? ¡°I mean what I said. The previous me became a witch today. I time-leaped and went back in time, so the current me hasn¡¯t become a witch yet.¡± Michiru seemed composed. Altogether a different person from the one I¡¯d known since yesterday. ¡°This world does not allow witches. I¡¯m about to become a new witch, so the world is working frantically to stop it.¡± Her words were unmistakable. Chance turned into inevitability. Because Michiru could not be permitted as a witch. I didn¡¯t know who it was, but something had no intention of allowing irregular existences known as witches in this world. If that was the case, then whatever that being was, they knew. That this world repeated each day an average of five times. That I alone remembered all iterations. That here, another irregularity had joined the fray. That irregularity took a deep breath. They regained their composure, and began gathering information once more to rid themselves of this ever-repeating world. An irregularity who, after repeating for over one thousand iterations, had long since become numb to sensation. ¡°One more question. Why did you only remember your time-leap today?¡± ¡°That¡¯s probably because this world is collapsing.¡± The sky beyond the window was clear and blue, the autumn sun glittering high in the sky. Like every fifth of October, the wind was slightly chilly, indicating an afternoon rain shower. ¡°To be honest, I shouldn¡¯t remember. When I returned to the past, all my memories of the future should¡¯ve been pushed into my subconscious, never to be accessed again. But because you repeated this world over a thousand times, the world broke.¡± Something that shouldn¡¯t have happened had happened. ¡°The world took Michiru away, so it¡¯s the world¡¯s fault. Not mine.¡± We were both uncompromisingly stubborn. The world, and I. Instead of losing Michiru, I preferred that tomorrow never arrive. Likewise, if it meant preventing the birth of a witch, the world didn¡¯t mind ripping apart spacetime or tearing down one or two laws of physics. Neither of us would concede, so we went around in circles. ¡°Because I will never let you die.¡± I pronounced each syllable clearly and coldly. Michiru¡¯s next words surprised me. ¡°I see¡­ So this is how you saved me, huh.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t know?¡± ¡°Nope. The Ayaka I knew didn¡¯t remember what happened on the fifth of Octobers that weren¡¯t chosen.¡± Forgot? Me? Impossible. Well, it was true I didn¡¯t know what would happen in the future. At the time of the cultural festival, which was already a distant past by now, I never in my wildest dreams could have imagined that Michiru would disappear. If you told me that I¡¯d repeat today over a thousand times, I would¡¯ve thought you were crazy and laughed. Wait, that meant that the two of us were still together in the future¡­ My smile threatened to tear apart my face. ¡°Are you okay? Your face looks red.¡± Michiru was worried about me. Even if it was for a completely difference reason. ¡°M-more importantly! The fact that you came from the future, doesn¡¯t that guarantee that at some point, you¡¯ll survive today and make it into the future?¡± Perhaps that was a slightly optimistic, naive view. At Michiru¡¯s small hesitation, I could see that the answer was not nearly as bright as I hoped. ¡°The future diverges. I can¡¯t guarantee that this future doesn¡¯t lead to a dead end.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± ¡°But I¡¯m here to make sure that doesn¡¯t happen!¡± It was impossible to put into words how uplifting those words were. Things impossible for one person could be managed with two. What an innocent misconception that was. I would realize my mistake a meager few hours later. ¡°Liar.¡± Once again, I was stuck mumbling resentful words at her corpse. If the witch Michiru really could have done away with fate with a wave of her wand, then she wouldn¡¯t have needed to deliberately tell me everything. Without sharing the information, she could have solved everything alone while feigning ignorance. The tenderhearted Michiru wouldn¡¯t have wanted to burden me with responsibility. She wouldn¡¯t have let me know. Since if she told me just once, I would never forget again. There would¡¯ve been no need for me to learn about the depressing nature of fate. But she only knew about the world¡¯s secrets- she couldn¡¯t use magic yet. In the face of fate, she was merely swept along. Not so different from myself. Just like the witch burdened by a curse of unforgetting, spending a thousand days without advancing a single step forward- powerless. The Fifth of October ALS But nevertheless, her appearance brought about a warmth in my heart. My repeating of the fifth of October resembled a journey across a desert. No matter how far I traveled, all I could see were the same piles of sand stretching into infinity, as if I had made no progress at all. Beneath the scorching dry days, once I finally collapsed of exhaustion, I found small creatures in the sand. That might be myself, or someone I treasured. The one thousand and seventh fifth of October. The Michiru who¡¯d remembered was like an oasis. Today, I¡¯d been blessed with remarkable luck, and the day continued until dinnertime. No such absurdities, such as a rampaging car on the way to school, or falling down the stairway because of some idiot playing a prank, or a sudden thunderstorm followed by a bolt of lightning, occurred. I wanted to offer up my greatest thanks to the ordinary. ¡°You like animal videos, right?¡± Michiru was looking at the iridescent surface of a video disc as she asked me that question. We were in my room. I had a T.V, albeit a small one, hence her question. ¡°Did I mention that before?¡± I didn¡¯t remember saying that. Though admittedly, I did somewhat enjoy looking at videos of animals. ¡°Yeah. You don¡¯t remember?¡± I¡¯d never told her, but perhaps I¡¯d tell her at some point in the future. It was a strange feeling. Normally, one might feel disgusted at the thought of someone knowing things about you that you¡¯d never talked about, but I wasn¡¯t normal. ¡°Do you not like them anymore?¡± ¡°I do.¡± Besides, I wasn¡¯t in any position to criticize. For the longest time, I¡¯d hidden my memories of repeating days from Michiru. Though fairly obvious, each person¡¯s experience of the world was different. Equally obvious was the fact that each person held different knowledge, and that each saw different scenery and events. A group of people might all ride on the same train, but only the person thinking about buying a new smartphone would be paying attention to other passengers¡¯ hands, while the one who¡¯d gone to meet their treasured person might only be staring outside at the weather. If someone had boarded holding their child¡¯s hand, they would find their gaze inevitably drifting to other parents with children or pregnant women, while commuting students¡¯ eyes might constantly stop on uniformed passengers. The outside scenery was always the same, but not two people looking outside would see the same thing. A single, objective world changed based on one¡¯s interest or position. Which is why that even if Michiru knew things I hadn¡¯t told her yet, I wasn¡¯t particularly shocked. ¡°Yay! This one seemed really interesting, so I wanted to watch it together!¡± The girl beside me, flashing her white teeth, had a presence far too big for me to entirely comprehend. If I could fully internalize the fact that each day repeated, then further accepting the fact that there was a girl who knew the future wasn¡¯t that strange. Or at least, it shouldn¡¯t be. ¡°Haven¡¯t you already watched that in the future though?¡± ¡°Nope. That was a different video, with a different person.¡± I¡¯d already expected as much, but even for someone with memories of repeating days, my views were vastly different from someone who had come from the future. We didn¡¯t see the same scenery. Similar, but not the same. ¡°Hey, Michiru.¡± I was afraid to confirm, but I wanted to know what she saw. What kind of world she lived in. Holding back the tremble in my voice, I mustered up the courage to ask. ¡°How many times have you time-leaped, Michiru?¡± Aizawa Ayaka has experienced countless iterations of the same day up until now. How many iterations of this timeline had Inaba Michiru repeated? ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Her eyebrows creased, troubled, as she laughed ambiguously. ¡°Unlike you, I forget.¡± Upon time-leaping, one couldn¡¯t keep all their memories intact. Their future self¡¯s personality and memories would mix with their past self, and distinguishing which trait had come from where was remarkably difficult. Which is why things like how many times she¡¯d time-leaped for, or from when and to when the time-leap had occurred, would grow increasingly fuzzy with every time-leap. Though if she had possessed the curse of unforgetting, that might be a different story. ¡°Look, it¡¯s starting.¡± Michiru pointed to the screen. The distribution company¡¯s logo appeared on the screen, in synchronization with the adorning fanfare. ¡°Even if this was the hundredth time, I¡¯d still enjoy it. As long as we¡¯re together,¡± Michiru declared. That was a lie, I thought. That was a lie, but I didn¡¯t feel annoyed. It was a lie birthed from kindness. It was an attempt at consolation. That she would feel enjoyment even if this was the hundredth time- impossible. But it was a matter of feelings, so I felt no childish impulse to strike back. Because if she truly enjoyed it, then she should¡¯ve had no problem watching the same movie again. How nice it must be for the me of the future. She must¡¯ve been happily watching an uplifting, cheerful movie. Or perhaps her interests had changed by then. ¡°Hey, Michiru. Did I really say that I liked animal videos?¡± A close-up shot of a tree in dense, lucious forest played on the screen. ¡°Yeah.¡± On its branches, a southern, brightly colored adult hummingbird managed the nest while the chick pestered for food. ¡°I¡¯m not really familiar with the genre, but animal videos are pretty interesting, aren¡¯t they?¡± Michiru continued. They were indeed soothing. But this was different. The baby hummingbird desperately begging for food was commendably lovable, and the adult bird truly lived up to the beauty it was nicknamed- flying jewels. ¡°¡­¡± The camera abruptly moved, panning swiftly upwards along the tree, focusing on a python. The audio turned deathly quiet. The hush of the jungle stirred up the tension and fear. Could you really consider this an animal video? If anything, it was more of a nature documentary. ¡°Woah.¡± Michiru was entranced. I said I liked animals, but my interests were more along the lines of a talented penguin performing or a tamed wild animal acting harmlessly. I also liked videos of cats messing around with their own reflection. I liked them so much that I hounded Yuuka to buy me a year-long pass to the zoo. ¡°Michiru-san¡­?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°I feel like this is different.¡± I most certainly had not been talking about a goosebump-inducing movie where a helpless mouse gets consumed whole by a ruthless, merciless jungle snake. Certainly not about horrifying scenes where a beautiful butterfly writhes helplessly, shaking back and forth between the strings of a spider¡¯s nest. Where I was about to vomit out the entire contents of dinner. ¡°It¡¯s not. My Ayaka would love this.¡± Why did she sound so confident¡­ Nature scenes of massacres and predation filled the screen. On that screen was displayed a primal nature that human civilization had abandoned in the recent past. A primal nature that was the splitting image of the enemy that we were up against. At some point, I dozed off, leaning against Michiru. By the time I woke up, the nature documentary had ended, and the television was playing some stale variety program. Right beside me, close enough to where I could feel her breathing, was Michiru¡¯s white, bored looking face. She was like a porcelain doll in her beauty, but her expression was robotic, her pupils reflecting a sea of despair. It was the first time I could empathize with her from the bottom of my heart. We were the same. Like me, Michiru was tormented by a feeling of powerlessness. She could pretend to continue daily life and avert her eyes from reality as much as she wanted, but she would not survive today. As I absently gazed at her profile, our eyes met. In a split second, light returned to her lifeless pupils and her expression blossomed with color like a blooming flower. She welcomed me from my slumber with her usual smile. ¡°Good morning, Ayaka. Still sleepy?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Though I gave a small nod, I didn¡¯t feel like lifting my leaden body, nor even attempt to untangle myself from her arms. I wanted to stay like this for a while longer. Peacefully, like a fish swimming deep in the ocean, I wanted relax in this long, calm moment. I wanted to feel her warmth right beside me, in this sheltered room. ¡°Are you gonna keep sleeping? I¡¯m going to bite you if you do,¡± Michiru said teasingly. And even more than that, for some reason, I didn¡¯t want to leave Michiru alone. I didn¡¯t want to let her go. ¡°Don¡¯t do that. Because¡­ because I¡¯m sick.¡± ¡°Sick?¡± On a rainy day, when Michiru had come to check up on me, I¡¯d accidentally let it slip. ¡°I can¡¯t forget anything I¡¯ve seen. I¡¯m sick with that disease.¡± At that time, Michiru had called it an amazing ability. Not a disease, not a curse. An amazing ability. I had recalled that moment countless times, and each time I was saved by it. Now, I wanted to hear those words one more time. Once more, I wanted to confirm that my memories hadn¡¯t deceived me. ¡°I see. So you can remember everything, huh.¡± Michiru pretended she knew nothing, nodding her head gently. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s repulsive, isn¡¯t it.¡± Or perhaps it was possible that I wanted her to affirm my curse. If even Michiru affirmed what I believed, then my power would truly be a curse. Knowing that, I could draw power from this curse I¡¯d had since my birth, and find an escape from this never-ending hell. ¡°It¡¯s not repulsive. I think it¡¯s an amazing ability.¡± She spoke lightly, as if trying to brazenly show that her words were the undeniable, absolute truth. The words I wanted to hear more than anything else in the world were so generously given to me. Just like on that day. My cheeks burned. Tears leaked from my eyes. She¡¯d approved it. Approved something that I¡¯d resented beyond measure. She believed me, accepted me, and praised me. ¡°I think, you¡¯re amazing, too. Your magic too, Michiru. I believe in you, you know, that you came to rescue me.¡± My throat shook and my voice turned shrill. An endless deluge of tears welled up in my eyes. ¡°Ehehe, is that so.¡± As I looked at the girl who¡¯d come so far on her journey, my frozen emotions and desires began to thaw, my chest tightening into a tiny ball. I opened my mouth. ¡°So many things I don¡¯t know about, that you know¡­ things I couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine, all those days that you had to experience, I really respect you for that.¡± ¡°¡­What¡¯s wrong? You¡¯re acting kind of strange.¡± Tears I couldn¡¯t stop overflowed and streamed down my face all the way to my chin. The emotions inside me grew stronger and stronger, unable to be contained and banging against my chest, but my voice was shaking too much and I couldn¡¯t form proper words. ¡°From now on, I want to be with you for a long time. I- I would really enjoy that, a-and, I would be really happy.¡± Unable to be indifferent to the me who couldn¡¯t stop their tears from overflowing and streaming down her face, Michiru used the back of her trembling finger and stroked my cheeks, wiping away the tears. ¡°Isn¡¯t that-¡± I began. Her eyes grew moist as she wrapped me in an embrace as if to hide her face. Isn¡¯t that allowed, the word that should have followed melted and disappeared into the air. Her warmth was still warm, but I had long grown accustomed to the tragedy that had repeated itself for over a thousand days, and as I sensed the appointed time drawing close, I cried myself to pieces as I could only beg, wrapped in her warmth. Somehow, some way, please don¡¯t die. As my voice wavered, all I could do was affirm that she was still alive. Michiru had come to save this miserable me. And yet. ¡°Michiru, I¡¯m begging you, so, d-don¡¯t die¡­¡± I couldn¡¯t save her. I couldn¡¯t save her- on the contrary, here I was causing her distress, all while being irresponsibly helpless. ¡°Don¡¯t say unreasonable things.¡± Her tearful voice was pained, her smile bitter as if she had accepted her fate, and I wanted to tell her that everything would be okay, even if I¡¯d be lying. ¡°Why¡­ you became a witch, didn¡¯t you? You time-leaped¡­ went back into the past¡­ but you can¡¯t use magic right now¡­¡± Unable to see her face, my deepest thoughts turned into mush as I sobbed into her chest. If she¡¯d been able to keep her magic, maybe she could¡¯ve easily overturned this fate. Maybe she would¡¯ve been able to wave away any imminent danger like a sleight of hand. ¡°Why did you come then¡­¡± ¡°I wanted to save you, Ayaka.¡± You damn fool. She couldn¡¯t even see where she¡¯d been going. I couldn¡¯t find comfort in that honesty. Thank you for worrying about me. Thank you for coming to save me. Words I couldn¡¯t muster blended into my weeping, choking in my throat. ¡°Did you know that this place is hell?¡± I hiccuped. Small, gentle teardrops splashed near my hands. Teardrops that weren¡¯t mine fell onto the carpet, forming translucent circles. As if to hide evidence of her tears, she pressed her hands over mine. ¡°When I thought about you living all alone in this hell, Ayaka, I couldn¡¯t bear to sit still.¡± Her voice was more gentle than anything I¡¯d ever heard, kinder than anyone I¡¯d known, something I desired more than anything else in the world. It gripped my heart, wrenching and painfully shattering it. ¡°That was stupid. This is none of your business,¡± I heard myself say. ¡°Yeah.¡± She¡¯d come rushing empty-handed into this ceaseless, repeating world for my sake. Comedy was a wonderful thing. Any tragedy becomes comedy if repeated enough times. If this was a comedy, all I needed to do was laugh, but this was reality where I couldn¡¯t laugh, and it was never-ending. If this was hell, then I would squeeze her hands so tightly that at the very least, she could never leave me. Let alone her warmth, I wanted to squeeze her hand so tightly that I could feel the blood rushing through her veins. Exactly the way liars do it. ¡°Just leave me alone. I like being alone. I wish you¡¯d left me alone.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± This witch of a girl was kinder than anyone and would absolutely never let me go. ¡°I hate you.¡± ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re always together, after all. Because I¡¯ll never let you be alone.¡± She truly was a fool. Today¡¯s calamity was a gas leak. Flammable gas had leaked from the neighboring gas pipe, robbing us of both our oxygen and way of escape. Normally, the security mechanism would have worked. The gas valve would have worked to shut off the leak. Gas levels would never have risen to dangerous levels. But the security mechanism didn¡¯t work. Because of an unlucky coincidence. ¡ï ¡¡¡ï ¡¡¡ï Eventually, we became trapped in a stalemate. But in no way did that meant we could give up. Ever since I first met the girl known as Inaba Michiru, I changed. She taught me different things. She remained my friend on the next day as well. Before I met her, I never knew the fun pleasure of trifling chats. It was the first time I experienced the loneliness after parting. She taught me everything. Giving up on Michiru was the same thing as giving up on my own future. As I once decided before, I fought back by refusing to allow today to be finalized. Accepting my own weakness, I gave up on tomorrow. If I tried to stand up against the world, I would only be hurt. I allowed the tides of fate to push and pull me as they pleased, accepting everything that occured. This way, my heart wouldn¡¯t be abraded away. Around three thousand six hundred days¡­ Within ten years, I¡¯d stopped going to school. In these everydays that never changed for the better, as long as I played it safe, each day would play out in the same fashion. Then in thirty-six thousand days, on the hundredth year, I finally stopped meeting even Michiru. I¡¯d gone through every single pattern with her, meeting and exchanging conversation, doing things together, until of all things, I¡¯d grown fed up. But even though I didn¡¯t know why I continued to repeat today, I was unable to forsake her completely and flee into the next calendar day. Because once I did that, I could no longer remain myself. After a little over a thousand years had elapsed, Yuuka began to frown whenever she saw me. My debilitating condition was plain as day to her. One day, I decided that the fifth of October would be the last day of my life, pretending to give up on everything, craving eternal sleep. Another day, I grew tired of giving up and pretended to fight. Fighting meant trying all possible means to victory. If that were the case, then perhaps a more appropriate description would be knowing that I couldn¡¯t ever fully win, so I resorted to flailing about in desperation. The sole reason I was able to continue living like this was my obsession with the idea that if I crossed into the next calender day, I¡¯d never be able to go back again, along with a reluctance to return to my original self who¡¯d lost all her humanity. I was playing a righteous hero who¡¯d sealed away their monstrous self. Wasn¡¯t I awe-inspiring? I went delirious more than once or twice. Perhaps I¡¯d been crazy from the beginning. No sane person would¡¯ve ever attempted this repulsive loop. Before I reached the two-thousandth year, I could no longer force my body to wake up before dusk. I couldn¡¯t bear even the time that my consciousness spent awake. I¡¯d been driven up against the wall, but nevertheless, every night before I fell asleep, I made sure to end each day with the same, proper ritual. I couldn¡¯t forget even a single day. Every record of my days filled with inactivity dulled in my memory, yet each memory brazenly remained. I tried to remember how to be cheerful only to be beaten down, while my collection of failures continued to pile higher even now. Despite my failures, I never chanced upon a breakthrough. Fate was meticulous. It had so scrupulously constructed a siege that not even water could slip through. In addition, we were far too powerless. These truths only threw me into further discouragement. No matter what philosophic view I took on the situation, there was no way to prevent my mental state from deteriorating. I spent longer and longer periods of time in deliriousness, where I became convinced that my prayers had become reality, and at several points, nearly crossed the fatal time threshold of 11:59 p.m, but each time miraculously succeeding in killing myself. I no longer had the willpower to struggle for Michiru¡¯s sake. I¡¯d long since given up on Michiru and the belief that I¡¯d be able to regain my footing someday. In the course of a million yesterdays, I¡¯d exhausted all my vitality necessary to live tomorrow. It was already too late for anything. The Fifth of October BJHYF The sound of rain. Indicating the afternoon. The fifth of October is sunny followed by rain, clearing up a slightly at dusk. Near the area of my home, the rain begins at 11:23. Near the area of school, 11:59; at the nearest station, 11:37. I knew all that, yet I didn¡¯t know how I could see tomorrow. Until I knew that, I would continue today. As far as the fifth of October was concerned, I knew everything. ¡°Woah, Aya-chan, you¡¯ve become considerably sexy overnight¡­¡­ Hey, did something happen?¡± ¡°¡­¡± Evening, like clockwork, Yuuka came. For a while now, Yuuka had said the same exact thing, word for word, upon seeing me. She must¡¯ve noticed my haggard figure. I was worn out to my core, and had no desire to match her frivolous talk. ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Oi, can you talk? Say something-¡° Ah, forgive me for everything, okay? Today¡¯s going to end. Help me reach tomorrow, okay? What convenient, self-serving demands. She sat down to snuggle with me as I leaned lifelessly against on the bedside. She¡¯d probably guessed. She, with her own peculiar instincts, had probably guessed what was happening inside me. ¡°¡­¡± But I didn¡¯t want to say anything. The reward wasn¡¯t worth the effort. That in order to speak, I had to remember was something I found repulsive, and besides, even if Yuuka was the most understanding person on the planet, even if she could somehow fully comprehend my misery, she wouldn¡¯t be able to empathize. I wanted sympathy. I wanted empathy, no matter how insignificant, to the point that I could almost taste it. ¡°Looks like a pretty serious illness. Maybe I can help.¡± Speaking of which, how had my first retry gone¡­? I couldn¡¯t remember clearly. This me couldn¡¯t remember clearly¡­ Indeed, this must be precisely what ¡®forgetting¡¯ felt like. But, I had a certain feeling that someone had helped me. Why couldn¡¯t I remember? Because it hadn¡¯t been chosen, and thus hadn¡¯t happened? Wait, no, that wasn¡¯t right. I had an ability that let me remember unchosen events. In that case. I had an intuition. That there was value in talking. ¡°Michiru, will die.¡± I should have known anything and everything, and yet a new, unfamiliar development unfolded before my very eyes. ¡°It seems like no matter how many times I repeat today, that has already been decided.¡± I had definitely crossed a threshold just now. The tower composed of vestiges of each day, stacked on top of each other, had collapsed, spilling out of me in a whimper. ¡°Michiru¡­ I¡­ can¡¯t save Michiru.¡± Where even to begin¡­ That on the first fifth of October, I¡¯d lost Michiru. That in order to save her, I¡¯d resolved to repeat today until I saved her. That I¡¯d exhausted every single one of my options. That in order to delay her fated death, I¡¯d already repeated the same day for thousands of years. Like I was recounting someone else¡¯s tale, I emotionlessly relayed each event followed by the next until the end. ¡°I see. Exactly how long has it been?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ about that.¡± Who cared? Nothing would come from knowing. ¡°Try counting.¡± I hadn¡¯t kept a calender of this distorted spacetime, so I couldn¡¯t immediately know how many days and months had elapsed. No, that was a lie- I knew. I just didn¡¯t want to know. In the end, I hadn¡¯t been able to save Michiru even a single time. Well, perhaps I¡¯d been able to save her at some points, but I hadn¡¯t been able to save myself at the same time. They were times where I tried to sacrifice myself to protect her, but all that resulted in was me dying before her. ¡°1095776 days.¡± If I had a dollar for each time I killed myself, I¡¯d be incredibly rich right now. I laughed internally at my dark joke. I¡¯d been cowering in place for over a million days, unable to advance even a single day ever since. ¡°Hmm. Isn¡¯t it about time you gave up?¡± Yuuka said indifferently. I had no way to guess whether she was only acting or if she truly had no interest, but in a small corner of my heart, I thought that it was a completely justified opinion. I didn¡¯t get angry. I hadn¡¯t the energy in the first place, and if our positions were reversed, I probably wouldn¡¯t able to understand why I was doing such weak-headed things. Something must be wrong with me if I had attempted to achieve an impossible outcome millions of times. Something must really be wrong with me. I shook my head weakly. I had lost every single one of my options. That including giving up. ¡°Why won¡¯t you give up?¡± I said nothing. ¡°Why do you keep choosing that girl?¡± Silence. ¡°Choose me already.¡± More silence. ¡°I¡¯ve loved you for five years now.¡± Nothing. ¡°Say something.¡± Nothing left my mouth. Yuuka¡¯s tone was pleading, almost like a last resort. But, nothing left my mouth. The surface of my heart had become numb to both emotion and sensation, almost all traces of feeling having been erased. As I was a monster of memory, only my memory remained lucid, and all my senses of human reasoning and instincts became replaced by objective judgment from past experiences. That was the current me. Utterly useless. Without anything to stir my heart, I couldn¡¯t even search the recesses of my memory to learn what kind of person I¡¯d been. Other than the most primal anger, nothing could trigger myself to feel emotion. ¡°I¡¯ll kill her.¡± An anger from seeing my most precious person snatched away from me without warning. Give up? You don¡¯t even know how I feel. You love me? Just keep blabbing on. ¡°I¡¯ll kill your precious person.¡± I picked up a kitchen knife- which reminded me, this was the same knife I¡¯d used when I first chose death- and pointed it to my heart. Pointed it to my heart, but I couldn¡¯t push it in. The arm that was supposed to kill me had stopped moving. I was terrified. I was terrified of dying. Terrified of the blade¡¯s edge. Terrified of a death that I should¡¯ve grown accustomed to a long time ago. Ah, I see. I remember. I was acutely self-aware. I realized. I am more precious to myself than Michiru. From the very beginning, my life had been more precious to me than Michiru¡¯s. The reason I¡¯d been able to choose her life over mine on that first day was merely because I¡¯d convinced myself that my life was worth nothing. Ever since my parents had abandoned me, I¡¯d never valued my life equal to a human¡¯s, listlessly passing diluted days as my heart continued to wear down. That¡¯s why I often used my body to achieve my wish of destruction that I¡¯d had from the beginning. It was a pointless hypothetical, but if I could somehow return to that very first day, I probably wouldn¡¯t choose this dead-end road. Only after I¡¯d well crossed the point of no return had I realized it, and thus chosen this path. If that hadn¡¯t been the case, I would¡¯ve turned back while I still had the chance. Such a shallow motive easily buckled in the face of an instinct screaming for me to live. I didn¡¯t want to die. It wasn¡¯t my duty to die for Michiru. No one would discover my betrayal here and now. Even if someone did discover it, all would disappear from everyone¡¯s memory come tomorrow. No one had the right to criticize me. Even if I did lose Michiru, I had an absurdly long life ahead of me where I still might discover another dazzling person to illuminate my world. Would I really throw away that chance and let it all end here? Even if my memories of now never faded, time would heal my wounds. Even wounds unable to be buried by forgetting would eventually become a past too distant to reach, concealed by an adequate amount of acceptance. I didn¡¯t want to die anymore. I was flooded by a torrent of thoughts of self-preservation, and I quickly faltered. A thought that I¡¯d ignored once, a decision I¡¯d rejected once, all began to swarm and press against me in droves, buffeting me as I found myself tied up in discord. Memories of thousands of years chained and weighed me down like rocks. Almost like I was living in someone else¡¯s body, I felt my desensitized judgment lean heavily towards the short-sighted choice. -It was fine to give up already, wasn¡¯t it? But in the last moment, the thing that stopped the spineless me from capitulating was- ¡°Ehehe, I got to taste Ayaka.¡± On that day, lasting just a single second, was the longest kiss of my life. The bewitching smile of the girl I couldn¡¯t save was a lifeline to my fracturing heart. If I gave up here, Michiru would stay dead. People couldn¡¯t live with the dead in the forefront of their thoughts. The heart would ache too much. They needed a certain, different pillar of support beside them. That support, while they were unaware, would replace the dead as their most precious thing. If I wanted to continue thinking of Michiru as my most precious until the day I died, I couldn¡¯t stop here. Could I live the rest of my life in pure regret, unable to forget this decision? As if. Impossible. I¡¯d end up killing myself at some point. And if that was the case, then dying now was so much more preferable¡­! Strength filled my arm, ready to kill. But ultimately, the blade was unable to steal my life. It should¡¯ve been a decisive, assassin¡¯s dagger yet it was unable to reach my life. A hand was gripping the kitchen knife¡¯s blade. That hand was bleeding in the place of me. A shock that seemed to rejuvenate this me of a thousand years overlapped with my heartbeat. ¡°¡­Yuuka, you-¡° ¡°Ouch!¡± ¡°What are you doing!!¡± ¡°Oh, Aya-chan, you¡¯re finally back.¡± ¡°W-who cares about that!¡± The fresh, vivid color of blood violently awoke me. Crimson dripped from Yuuka¡¯s white hand onto the floor. I could only fluster around in a disgraceful confusion. No matter you cut your hand, you couldn¡¯t instantly die because of it. Experience taught me as much. ¡°It¡¯s fine. No worries.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no way you¡¯re fine.¡± The blade had gone deep into her hand. She must¡¯ve been gripping it with all her strength. I hurried to retrieve a pretty towel and tied it tightly around the wound. This wound needed stitches. ¡°We¡¯re going to the hospital.¡± ¡°I told you, I¡¯m fine.¡± Yuuka smiled blithely. ¡°It might leave a scar!¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine- it¡¯s fine-¡° What part of this was¡­! Because of me, another person important to me had gotten hurt in front of my eyes- I was fed up with it all! Why! Why did I let this happen! As I nearly burst into shouting, Yuuka continued in a carefree, to the point of being callous, voice. ¡°I mean, today absolutely won¡¯t be chosen, right?¡± ¡°Ah¡­¡± I was speechless. Yuuka afforded me only the tiniest pause, continuing to press on. ¡°I¡¯ll say this again. Choose me.¡± I couldn¡¯t choose her. I couldn¡¯t settle with choosing her. ¡°You¡­ are you saying all that, knowing, knowing that I, for a different girl¡¯s sake, was able to die over a million times?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°And you would be happy if that girl, who died a million for another, told you that she was switching to you.¡± It was supposed to be sarcastic. If it shut her up, then that was perfect. I thought that, and yet. ¡°Of course I¡¯d be happy. Just today, I can see how much you¡¯re struggling. I can see how tired and weary you are. So one day in the distant future, when I get my old Aya-chan back, I¡¯ll have won against Inaba-chan.¡± Yuuka puffed out her chest. Her tone was so magnificently grand and refreshing that I couldn¡¯t help but avert my eyes. I didn¡¯t find it annoying to be loved this much. At the same time, a part of me that found it extremely annoying didn¡¯t allow it, hated it, thinking that someone like me had no right to compare Michiru and Yuuka. I didn¡¯t want to think anymore. I didn¡¯t want to balance anything on a pair of weighing scales. If I weighed two things, I would be filled with regret whichever way the scales tipped. Fundamentally, any human¡¯s decisions were just a pair of scales, weighing choices. The only reason I¡¯d been able to get away without thinking about that was just because of the numerous times I repeated one day. I¡¯d been cherry-picking up to now. ¡°Go home,¡± I said without any real force. It was supposed to be a plea. If Yuuka said that she¡¯d be watching over me until the calendar changed, I wouldn¡¯t be able to refuse. I wouldn¡¯t be able to die in front of her. Under no circumstance could I every show my pitiful corpse to this uncorrupted, idiotic woman who still clung onto such naive ideals. Yuuka never restrained herself when it came to me, but even still, she always prepared to return home by the time I entered the bath. I never let her stay over a single time. And she upheld this bare minimum rule. But today, she knew my condition. That I¡¯d already died for a million times. Would she still continue to follow that rule even today? ¡°Go home. I¡¯m begging you, so please go home.¡± ¡°If I leave, you¡¯ll die, won¡¯t you?¡± I didn¡¯t have a choice. If I failed even a single time, Michiru would never see tomorrow again. ¡°¡­¡± I shook my head no. ¡°I see. I believe you.¡± I lied again. Even if I had no words to lie with, gesturing was simple. A lie so crude that if I met her eyes, I would surely be exposed, but my hair thankfully obstructed my vision. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll be going. I¡¯ll come a little earlier tomorrow. If you ever encounter anything difficult, you can always talk to me anytime.¡± Once she¡¯d finished her kind words, she left. All she needed to do was pin me down and wait until 11:59 p.m, where my forced sleep along with tomorrow would arrive, and yet she didn¡¯t do that. And I betrayed her feelings. I picked up the knife from the floor, still stained with her blood. There were so many things I wanted to apologize for, but the wound on her hand wouldn¡¯t be chosen so, somehow, it should be forgivable. Now, one more time. Once more, begin the fifth of October. This time, I will save Michiru. A long-lost fire was rekindled in my heart. I knew how. I was accustomed to it. Knew, in more detail than any other person in this world, how to advance into tomorrow without even the slightest pain. I held the knife in a reverse grip, raised it to my chin, perpendicular to my neck. Then, in one stroke-! ¡°I figured it might be dangerous so I came back¡­ the only way you know how to fight is to take your own life hostage, so why won¡¯t you give up? No one will blame you for being powerless, you know.¡± I opened my eyes. It was Yuuka again. My cousin who always remained by my side. Wound upon wound. It should have been excruciatingly painful, I knew it must¡¯ve hurt beyond belief, and yet here she was gripping the blade of the kitchen knife. A small loop. Once again, she held my life in her hand. ¡°¡­Sorry.¡± Relentless tears slid down my cheeks and fell between my legs. I was like a child with a tendency to steal, caught red-handed. Not only had been betrayal been easily discovered, my efforts had been stopped in their tracks. An apology would never be accepted, but all I could do was apologize and pray for forgiveness. There was also a relief of not having to die. It was already futile. The fire inside me from earlier had been extinguished. I couldn¡¯t stand anymore. I¡¯m sorry, I apologized again, this time to Michiru. ¡°Don¡¯t apologize. We both lied to each other. I knew already. Earlier, when you didn¡¯t force me to go to the hospital, I knew that you¡¯d do it.¡± I didn¡¯t feel frustrated or vexed. Instead, resignation controlled my heart. ¡°Hey, Aya-chan. Don¡¯t tell me that someone like you who¡¯s lived for over three thousand years is willing to die for such a little girl like her.¡± But Yuuka disregarded both my apology and broken heart. ¡°Haven¡¯t you found something else more precious to you by now?¡± I hadn¡¯t. I¡¯d never been able to make a single friend. Even when I did, they were no longer there the next day. But Michiru became my friend every day. She was there for me on the next day. Even my parents had left me. But Michiru was always there for me. The fact that I¡¯d reached the edge of this hell didn¡¯t change a thing. ¡°She¡¯s not just a little girl. One day, she¡¯s going to become a witch.¡± As my final parting words, I talked about a shining future. At some point in time I couldn¡¯t quite remember when, Yuuka had talked about a witch that could make into reality whatever she could see¡­ I think. In my hazy, somewhat lacking memories, I recalled such a figure. So I selfishly begged that this witch of the lowest standing Minase Yuuka would see that future and guide me there. ¡°You will use your magic wand and save me.¡± And then, I inserted a self-serving statement at the end. ¡°This prophet standing here prophecizes it.¡± I took a dig at my classmates from three thousand years ago. ¡î ¡°I give up, I give up,¡± Yuuka mumbled. At first, I wasn¡¯t sure what she was saying. ¡°Ah, jeez. It¡¯s my loss. It¡¯s seriously my loss,¡± she said unhappily, tousling her hair, and in the next moment, her entire air changed. Confidence returned to her face and she puffed out her chest. ¡°We¡¯ll have Inaba-chan become a witch. If her dying today is the reasoning of the world, then we¡¯ll just have to use powers beyond reason.¡± ¡°What are you saying. Is that even possible?¡± Michiru had always said that before. That she¡¯d become a witch someday. She¡¯d said that because she was about to become a new witch, chance had bared its fangs and she lost her life no matter how many times I repeated. ¡°If everything you¡¯ve told me is true, then Inaba-chan has the potential to become a witch. In that case, I can help you out.¡± ¡°¡­¡± How could I possibly believed something like that? Those words couldn¡¯t be serious. Even if I believed her, my expectations would only be betrayed. But I was already broken. I¡¯d been beaten down until not a single centimeter of my skin had been left unscathed, and at this point, an additional failure or two wouldn¡¯t affect me. ¡°Of course, to achieve something that immense, my power alone is completely insufficient. You¡¯ll need to contribute something too.¡± ¡°What do I need to pay? My life? I¡¯ll give that with pleasure.¡± How many times had I done that already? A different Ayaka looking at the current me would be disgusted. ¡°Your memories. I need every one of your memories of the fifth of October up to now.¡± If not, the moment that the calendar date changed, my mind would age insanely fast and I¡¯d die, I suppose. Additionally, the me from the first fifth of October and the current me were two different people. No today would ever be able to reconcile those two me¡¯s. Therefore, while that discrepancy still existed, a fifth of October couldn¡¯t be chosen. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ awfully convenient.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not. It¡¯s the anthropic principle. You¡¯ve heard of it, I¡¯m sure.¡± I was a walking dictionary, and answered in like. ¡°It¡¯s one way to explain why the universe is the way it is. According to the anthropic principle, the reason is because humans, through observation, have made it so that other universes cannot be chosen.¡± Physics and astronomy show that during the forming and expansion of the universe, the physical laws and constants were extremely lucky and favorable towards humans. The anthropic principle is one explanation that scientists developed to explain that ¡®luck.¡¯ ¡°Yeah. There might be universes where humanity was never created. Universes that might be too hot or too cold, for instance, where life could never form. If we imagine infinite parallel universes, then those universes would might exist somewhere.¡± ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is, even if those universes existed, they wouldn¡¯t exist for us, since we wouldn¡¯t know.¡± Deserted places no one knew about. Universes that wouldn¡¯t change whether they existed or not. (T/N: In case my translation wasn¡¯t clear, which, let¡¯s be honest, it wasn¡¯t, here¡¯s a gross oversimplification: ¡®Life¡¯ (aka humans) forming from the universe is incredibly unlikely, to the point of being almost impossible. So then, how did life form? Some might answer that we got extremely lucky. The anthropic principle would answer that we didn¡¯t get lucky at all- if another universe had been formed, we wouldn¡¯t be around to ask that question. The only universe where we¡¯d be able to marvel at how lucky we were is precisely a universe where we got ¡®lucky.¡¯ The idea of parallel universes is much the same idea. Parallel universes without humans might exist, or they might not. But because there¡¯s no observers in those universes, them existing or not existing is the same thing.) Yuuka explained the current situation following the anthropic principle. ¡°It¡¯s the same thing with tomorrows without Aya-chan. There are a bunch of possible tommorows, some where Aya-chan exists, and some where Aya-chan no longer exists. However, for tommorows that Aya-chan has observed, Aya-chan must exist. You cannot not exist.¡± Imagine strapping cameras onto rabbits on a savannah, with the camera taking constant photos. None of the rabbits have ever returned with a picture of a lion. That doesn¡¯t mean that lions don¡¯t exist on this savannah. Rather, only rabbits who hadn¡¯t encountered lions in the first place could safely make it back alive with the camera. ¡°And in these million days, I haven¡¯t let a single tommorow pass, huh.¡± I wouldn¡¯t have minded a lion. You could still escape from lions, and some rabbits would surely remain to tell the tale. My natural predator wasn¡¯t something that soft. That¡¯s why we had to erase myself from tomorrow. That was the only method in which today could be appended to tomorrow. ¡°Exactly. You¡¯ve been using this theory this whole time. A day where you die can¡¯t be chosen. The reason is super simple- Aya-chan can¡¯t observe a future where she dies.¡± One¡¯s own death and another person¡¯s death were two fundamentally separate notions. One could observe another¡¯s death. However, it was impossible for one to confirm their own death. Absolutely impossible. Because the subjective consciousness necessary to observe would already have been lost. Which is why it couldn¡¯t be chosen. There were most certainly tommorows without me. But, those tomorrows only existed in places invisible to me. I could only choose tommorows where I was living, that I could see, where I could think. ¡°So here¡¯s what I propose. We have Inaba-chan become a witch for us, then we have her use your memories as compensation for her magic and have her falsify her fate.¡± ¡°First of all, assuming that somehow, by some miracle, Michiru actually does manage to become a witch. How can you be sure that my memories are for her magic?¡± She repeated. The anthropic principle. ¡°Because it can¡¯t be anything else.¡± Michiru¡¯s magic would be powered by my memories. Because it couldn¡¯t be anything else. ¡°The reason isn¡¯t due to her, it¡¯s due to you, Aya-chan. Let¡¯s say that you and Inaba-chan gather together and manage to make it to tomorrow- Inaba-chan¡¯s magic would have to consume all of your memories as compensation. According to the anthropic principle.¡± Assume multiple parallel universes that branched off. There would be various Michirus. There¡¯d be worlds where she could use magic freely without any cost or compensation, worlds where she¡¯d have to perform a ceremony and sacrifice her lifespan to use magic, worlds where she drew from the vast, circulating life force that existed throughout the air and nature¡­ and perhaps a world where she could exchange someone¡¯s memory for magical power. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve realized this, but it¡¯s already too late for you to reach tomorrow and survive at the same time. The amount of memories you have are way too much, and you¡¯re on the verge of shutting down completely. For example, the amount of time you spend awake has rapidly decreased, right?¡± If Michiru¡¯s magic happened to follow a system other than one that consumed memories as fuel, it would spell my doom. Which is why those worlds couldn¡¯t be chosen. Only in the world where Michiru¡¯s magic used up my memories could I live. At the present point in time, Michiru¡¯s current undetermined magic was forcing all those infinite possibilities to converge into one outcome. ¡°Ah¡­ so that¡¯s how it is.¡± I understood everything. Understood that every event from the time I met Michiru all the way to now had been an inevitability. On that first day, the day that Michiru claimed she¡¯d time leaped, she¡¯d called out to me three days out of three. That was an inevitability necessary for all possibilities to arrive at a single future. I also couldn¡¯t forget the thirteenth of April, where Yuuka was involved in a traffic accident. An event as unlikely as a traffic accident had happened every single day without fail. Undoubtedly, at that time, Yuuka had been deemed as a key player. Fate had been waiting for us to lower our guard. And Michiru and me becoming close was also an inevitability. If we hadn¡¯t become this intimate, would I really have chosen to repeat the fifth of October? Only because I regarded Michiru as irreplaceable had I repeated today for a million days. I ceaselessly rejected the bastard known as fate, denying the possibility of a single day being chosen, while I continued to long for the next day. And finally, these repeating days had stacked up taller and taller into a tower, and today, it had reached the necessary height. All because of the anthropic principle. Inaba Michiru¡¯s magic itself didn¡¯t matter. But if it didn¡¯t have a convenient side effect for me, I would be unable to observe events for the rest of eternity. And outcomes I could not observe, and thus, impossible to be chosen, would automatically be excluded. ¡°Can I leave it to you?¡± ¡°Aya-chan? Who do take me for? I¡¯m Minase Yuuka-san, you know.¡± Attempting to stitch together the current Michiru, who¡¯d lost her magic after time-leaping, to her original fate where she¡¯d first become a witch¡­ or something like that. I didn¡¯t really get it. ¡°Will it go well?¡± ¡°Tha depends on you and her. I know it sounds cliched, but fate can be changed. However, at the end of the day, what reality you create depends on yourself. It¡¯s always been like that, right? For instance, Aya-chan, you¡¯re always doing your best to increase the chance that a favorable day will be chosen. This time is the same. Ultimately, the anthropic principle is a theory. It contains merit, of course, but it¡¯s not the only law that makes up reality, and not everything is predetermined. So we have to try our best.¡± Yuuka¡¯s encouragement was filled with power. Powerful words, almost like an incantation. She was a witch too, after all. ¡°Resolve is a wonderful thing, isn¡¯t it, Aya-chan. Even if you¡¯re scared, the only option is to continue to push forward. This will be your last chance. Since you¡¯ll be losing all your memories related to the fifth of October.¡± ¡°The first time I¡¯ll forget something, huh.¡± I laughed dispassionately. An Ayaka that could forget was no longer Ayaka. I will die here. I asked Yuuka a question I¡¯d always been curious about. This was the only time I could ask. Since she¡¯d probably only answer if everything she said would be erased. ¡°One last question.¡± ¡°Ask away. I¡¯ll tell my beloved Aya-chan anything she wants to know.¡± Because I¡¯d forget, undoubtedly. Yuuka¡¯s love for me might seem free, but it most certainly wasn¡¯t without bounds. Apart from a few exceptions, I had never lost my memories, and yet in these fifth of Octobers, I had come to realize that so many things had been hidden away from me, to the point where I had barely scratched the surface. ¡°Why did you help me on the sixth of October?¡± ¡°Oh dear. I don¡¯t remember that happening. I¡¯m not you, after all. I¡¯m just a normal human whose mind is slightly more flexible¡­ but let¡¯s see. If I had to guess, it¡¯d probably be because ?I had deja vu.¡± Yuuka gently brought her hand to my head. In an almost caress, she ran her face down from my head to my brow. From my brow to the top of my eyelids. She lightly moved her hand downward, closing my eyes. Her hand was warming than anyone else¡¯s, I thought. In the end, what did I really amount to? I relied on Yuuka for anything and everything. Like a selfish child who got their way by throwing tantrums. The only thing I¡¯d done was wait for fate to fold and for Yuuka to solve all my problems. Nevertheless, I was filled with a strange feeling of fulfillment. I¡¯d been rewarded for my efforts, and for the first time, I was able to touch the tangible results of my blood, sweat, and tears. Perhaps I was being a little greedy, but I basked in a sure feeling of accomplishment. Good luck, tomorrow me. ¡°Good night, Aya-chan. Work hard, ¡®kay?¡­ Whether it goes well or not, I hope tomorrow is filled with happiness.¡± The Fifth of October A¡¯ My heart surged, and I opened my eyes. I felt like I¡¯d awoken from a long dream. But I suppose that that feeling was merely just a feeling. At any rate, I didn¡¯t dream. I¡¯d never dreamed a single time from the day I was born to now. A nostalgic fragrance wafted towards me. It was the ordinary, morning smell of my room that I was so accustomed to, yet for some curious reason, this morning, the scent was overpoweringly nostalgic that it made me feel faint. The corners of my eyes were moist with tears. The upper half of my body, reflected in the full-length mirror, was slovenly from sleep, looking completely unlike myself. ¡°Good morning! Aya-chan!¡± A key turned noisily in the front door, unlocking it, and it swung open. I tensed reflexively, pulling up the bedsheets to conceal my upper half. A familiar face enthusiastically rushed into my room. ¡°What time do you think this is¡­¡± I buried my face into the covers to hide my tears and replied in my usual, listless manner. She opened the curtain and sunlight spilled into the room, illuminating the digital clock. It was 6:42 a.m. I¡¯d slept slightly later than usual. ¡°I¡¯m hungry, Aya-chan.¡± ¡°You stayed up all night, didn¡¯t you¡­ Sit tight. I¡¯ll cook something to help with the fatigue.¡± I recalled the ingredients I had in the fridge and came up with a menu. The sentimental feeling was replaced with one of routine and normality. A meal that could help with fatigue, one that wouldn¡¯t cause indigestion even if she took a power nap. In that case, I should probably go with pork miso soup, topped with sliced raw onions- easy to eat and would revitalize stamina. A perfect dish suited for this season where the days were constantly getting colder. ¡°By the way, how did you get into the house?¡± I called out as I stuck my head into the refrigerator. I¡¯d locked the door before I went to sleep. ¡°Tada! A duplicate key!¡± She waved it around deliberately showing it off. A keyholder in the form of a popular, animal mascot was attached to it. The character¡¯s balance was awful, with one protruding ear looking like it¡¯d fall off any time. ¡°Eh? I never gave you a duplicate key though.¡± ¡°Your memory doesn¡¯t encompass everything, Aya-chan.¡± Well obviously. I was a human child who slept every night. But there was no chance I¡¯d give her the key while I was asleep. And me giving her a key while I was awake was even more out of the question. ¡°You didn¡¯t. I got this one specially made. It was five-hundred yen at the shopping mall.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a crime.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t this nice?¡± Well, whatever. I didn¡¯t particularly care about Yuuka entering and leaving as she pleased. She wasn¡¯t someone who¡¯d steal stuff, and besides, there wasn¡¯t anything to steal in the first place. Nor was I hiding any deep, dark secrets anywhere in the house. They were all stored in my head. Like poems, for instance. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right. I think Inaba-chan will be stopping by in a bit.¡± ¡°Huh!?¡± A shout escaped my mouth. ¡°She called me earlier. Apparently, she mistook your notebook for hers and took it home.¡± ¡°T-that¡¯s-¡° I bit my tongue, fumbling my words¡­ ¡°She said that she really wanted to see your sleeping face, so she¡¯s probably coming soon. But too bad you woke up super early today. How unfortunate for her.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me this earlier!¡± No sooner had those words left my mouth, a knocked sounded from the front door. That had to be Michiru. Once I confirmed that Michiru was indeed standing on the other side of the door, I was struck by a realization. It hadn¡¯t even occurred to me until now, but the day where we¡¯d kissed hadn¡¯t been chosen. Somehow, I¡¯d failed to notice it entirely. I¡¯d be lying if I said it didn¡¯t hurt, but I felt unexpectedly calm. It felt as if that day was already a distant past. Like an event that had long since drawn to a close. Ah, I see. That fleeting, sentimental feeling from when I¡¯d woken up was because of this. A feeling relief in coexistence with a twinge of loneliness- a indescribably strange feeling. ¡î It was still morning, and the roads and sidewalks were crowded. Everyone was in a hurry towards their own destination. A flurried atmosphere hung over the streets, as if they¡¯d be scolded for dilly-dallying. And yet, I found the scenery peaceful, playing out like a painting of everyday life. ¡°Wai- wait for me, Ayaka.¡± ¡°Oh, sorry¡­¡± ¡°What¡¯s the hurry for?¡± Before I knew it, my pace had rushed and frantic. It almost felt like I had to rush. Like if I stopped, they¡¯d catch up to me. Who was they? Why were they chasing? As I suspected, something had been strange from the moment I woke. It was hard to put into words, but it was filled with unease, and everything I saw seemed to be uncertain and hazy. ¡°Sorry.¡± You don¡¯t have apologize- alright, let¡¯s do this!¡± Michiru grabbed my left hand. Her warm fingers entwined with mine, and I felt a tingling sweetness from the touch of her fingertips. But I couldn¡¯t bring myself to immerse myself in that sweetness. Why are you letting her walk near the road? Those were the only thoughts that filled my head. No matter how many times I revisited my memories, I couldn¡¯t shake that feeling of unease. I knew something must¡¯ve been causing this abnormality, but I couldn¡¯t even begin to fathom what that might be. Normally, I could find out after just thinking about it for a little while. After all, I couldn¡¯t forget. If I methodically sorted through my memories one by one, I would arrive at the cause without fail. Being unable to know left me feeling creeped out. A clarification of the true nature of my unease came from the opposing side of the road. It came in a flash, when we were stopped by a red light at an intersection. It was an irrational hunch- if hunches were ideas that burst forth from a hazy unconscious, then I, who was unable to lose the memories where hunches were born from, should experience only rational hunches, however- the hunch emerged from a sea of bewilderment that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. ¡°Michiru¡­ this place might be dangerous.¡± Of course she¡¯d doubt me, but I told her nonetheless. I had faith in Michiru. Immediately after, a roaring motorized bicycle broke free from the traffic, rushing into the four-way intersection with slowing down. The reckless car would obviously crash. Starting from the six o¡¯clock position, the rampaging vehicle rear-ended a cooper that had initially started from the three o¡¯clock, whose left front light shattered as the cooper itself slid, from where we were standing at the four o¡¯clock position diagonally towards the ten o¡¯clock. In a delicate moment longer than the blink of an eye but shorter than a breath, I saw a multitude of snapshots of a scene flash before my mind, a scene that I felt I¡¯d seen somewhere before. I knew the outcome of this tragedy. I¡¯d seen it before. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine.¡± In my hallucination, I heard that faint voice. With a start, I returned to the present only to notice that my left hand was hot. The voice had been Michiru¡¯s. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. As long as we¡¯re together.¡± She gripped my hand tightly, so tightly that it hurt, facing forward. The road was as usual. The autumn air was chilly, the blue sky was blindingly clear, the foliage was so green it seemed like an illusion. ¡°What was that, just now.¡± Traffic came and went in an orderly fashion, and pedestrians walked briskly as usual. But earlier, I saw it. I definitely saw it. A tragedy that chilled me to the very bone, and now had utterly vanished. The intersection was crowded as usual, without an accident in sight. I couldn¡¯t find any trace of broken glass or nor hear any car horns nor smell any pungent gasoline. ¡°A dream,¡± Michiru said. A human undergoes REM sleep around five times per night. In the midst of that, they will hallucinate in a phenomenon known as dreaming. Michiru claimed that what I saw in the moment before was something akin to that. ¡°You¡¯re lying. There¡¯s no way.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m lying.¡± I don¡¯t dream. I have never dreamed a single time up to this moment. Apart from Michiru and I standing there in complete petrification, there was nothing out of the ordinary in this busy traffic scene. ¡°It was a dream. What you saw, Ayaka.¡± At Michiru¡¯s oddly definitive words, I blinked in daze, turning to stare at Michiru. What in the world was this girl? Nothing in her expression seemed any different than the face I¡¯d become accustomed to seeing, only if I had to say, the light reflected in her round eyes were a color I¡¯d never seen before. What was that, earlier¡­ Even after that, the sense of discomfort didn¡¯t disappear throughout the entire day. I went to class, desperately trying to maintain my composure all while suppressing the tumult of unease in my heart. I was filled with an impatient frustration, as if I were sitting on my hands in the face of a tragedy I had surely witnessed earlier. Like filling the bathtub up with water, then letting the tap continue run as the water overflowed. Like the tragedy would truly occur if I did nothing. As we walked through the hallways, I was stricken with fear. It almost felt like someone would crash into us and we¡¯d fall down the stairs. The passing rain shower, which had started to fall at around noon, terrified me. It almost felt like a bolt of lightning would strike Michiru. It felt like the library bookshelf would collapse on us, or that the floor would give way without warning, and that the ceiling would cave in. My feelings were based off of nothing. But even then, I couldn¡¯t find solace in the fact that nothing did occur. I couldn¡¯t overlook the overwhelming sense that something was out of place. A paranoia built up inside me, that if things continued as were, I would find myself in a grave predicament. Almost as if I were in the stomach of a monster- If a classmate who rarely spoke all of a sudden began to shout that an earthquake was coming and that we should all flee, I might be led to think that they were using drugs. I¡¯d take their temperature, check the dilation of their pupils, and measure their pulse. I¡¯d probably even take them to the infirmary. Sitting in the classroom, I considered such a scenario. I was practically sick. The world I lived in was peaceful, the time slowly ticking away until class ended. Despite that, since morning, my heart had been in continual turmoil, like a rowboat in a storm. ¡°Are you doing anything today?¡± Perhaps Michiru knew about my worries, or perhaps not, but she spoke in her usual, cheerful manner. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°Want to take a detour home?¡± ¡°Sure, but¡­¡± It¡¯s raining. I¡¯m not really in the mood. Numerous protests echoed in my mind, but in the end, a feeling that I had to be with her triumphed over all. Speaking of which, was it possible that I was somehow unconsciously faking an illness, and that the strange vision I¡¯d from earlier as well as my incessant unease were symptoms of that? Since I couldn¡¯t muster the courage to tell Michiru that I was lonely and helpless and wanted her by my side, so my unease and anxiety became amplified¡­ Nah, there was no way such silly motivations could actually¡­ ¡°I have an umbrella.¡± The rain shower from noon hadn¡¯t ended. In the distance, a weak beam of sunlight shone through a thinner section of clouds, which on the contrary, only highlighted the surrounding darkness. As we left the building together, my fears were finally realized. Lightning struck. No time elapsed between the flash of light and the roar of thunder. ¡°Michiru-¡° The brilliant, white light blinded me, and at the same time, the deafening noise shook my entire body. My eardrums stopped working. I¡¯d seen this scene before. It felt like I was watching something from one of my nightmares- if I did dream, that is. Absurdities began to unfold one after the other like a bad joke, and tragedies I¡¯d gotten tired of looking at took their turns in succession, playing out in front of me. The white darkness covering my vision gradually faded. In reality, it was only for an instant. But the flashback seemed to last an eternity. ¡°Wha¡­ W-what?¡± As my sight returned, I whirled around, scanning my surroundings. ¡°Oh, just now? Yeah, that surprised me. The lightning was really close to here.¡± Her voice sounded blurred and faint in my ears, still recovering from the noise. ¡°Eh¡­ Ah, yeah.¡± I¡¯d escaped a tragedy that should¡¯ve occured. Wait, what? Should¡¯ve occured? Why did I think that¡­? ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go.¡± We began walking, the two of us under one umbrella. At some point, the sound of thunder faded. I followed Michiru towards the park next to Konohama High School. Towards the edge of the pond. In my mind, I traced out dots beneath the well-maintained trees where sunlight might filter through on a sunny day. Right now, only sparse raindrops splashed onto the ground. Occasionally, large drops of rain would splatter against our nylon umbrella. The distant gazebo on the opposite shore was submerged in a mist of water. ¡°Um, Michiru, does something seem strange?¡± ¡°Hmm, strange? What exactly?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s like, something feels off. Like something bad is going to happen.¡± My feet stopped moving by themselves. For a split second, the sound of rain against the umbrella grew distant, then returned to normal. The autumn rain was cold, and a part of the afternoon air felt ruthless. Michiru stood right next to me, and yet I felt as if I¡¯d left her behind, and while that was obviously just my imagination, my forlornness only deepened. ¡°¡­Ayaka, it¡¯ll be okay. I told you this morning too, didn¡¯t I? It¡¯ll be okay.¡± She reached out her hand and caressed mine. She stroked my stiff hair, patted my ear, and rested her palms on my cheek. ¡°It was all a dream, ¡®kay?¡± ¡°But I saw it.¡± I was an obstinate person. So I argued, causing Michiru trouble. The patter of rain sounded against the umbrella intermittently. Thunder rumbled from afar, a dim noise which sounded like a moaning wild beast. It was a ferocious voice that made me freeze up. I closed my stiff eyes, not reopening them until the sound had died away. Only to find myself looking directly into Michiru¡¯s eyes, as if she¡¯d been waiting to ambush me. She handed me the umbrella handle. What did she¡­ ¡°Trust me. I made everything into a dream.¡± I had no evidence whatsoever. Only her words, and yet I knew that those were incantations of a magical spell. Michiru wrapped both my cheeks in her hands. Her touch was warm and gentle. I desperately wanted to nuzzle my cheeks against hers- in other words, she¡¯d won easily. She won me over completely. That alone was enough to erase all of my unease. What a fool I was. ¡°¡®Cause I¡¯m a witch¡­ right?¡± No one and nothing could harm Michiru. The power to deny events that should occur. ¡°That¡¯s true¡­ yeah.¡± Because Michiru, my treasured friend, was a witch. She finally became one. Became the witch that she always said she¡¯d become one day. Became an existence that might look the same as always, but was fundamentally changed. An existence that could distort even fate. Accidents, plots, enemies, even fate, nothing could ever hurt her. Not even the world. She stood on two legs, towering above all else, and no one could knock her down. Though I didn¡¯t know who it was, I was filled gratitude from the bottom of my heart towards the person who¡¯d made Michiru into a witch. I waved goodbye to Michiru at the station, then headed home. Even though I was reluctant to leave her, I was no longer uneasy. At some point, it had stopped raining, and the evening sun peeked out from a gap in the thin clouds. I was greeted by a familiar scenery, one that I knew like the back of my hand. At dinnertime, Yuuka came to visit. We talked about silly things, and during our conversation, I idly complained about the odd feeling of foreboding that had accompanied me throughout the entire day. A day like any other. Time passed in one of these lovable, boring everydays. Slowly, soundly. And, at the usual time, I went to bed. I peacefully fell asleep amidst a quiet, autumn night. A day where nothing happened. A day where something should¡¯ve happened. A day where nothing at all happened. That was my fifth of October. And with that, in a curious turn of events, the fifth of October concluded in a single day. T/N: This was probably the translation I¡¯m least proud of because of how confusing it probably read, especially in terms of the mechanics behind Ayaka¡¯s abilities and repeating and whatnot. I¡¯ll do a quick rundown of that to clarify anything that might not have been clear. -Ayaka¡¯s true ability is that she can essentially relive her past experiences. That¡¯s why she can remember every detail even if she didn¡¯t notice that detail when she initially experienced it. To extend Yuuka¡¯s analogy, if going through life is like reading a book, Ayaka¡¯s power is that she can re-read the book as opposed to normal humans who can only try and recall what they read. -Ayaka must be there to observe days. This is the world/fate¡¯s ¡®survival bias,¡¯ that is, the world needs Ayaka to observe the repeating days so that the world can then choose from those days. In that case, the world can never choose a day where Ayaka dies because then Ayaka will no longer be around to observe the next day -Ayaka¡¯s idea on the fifth of October Y was probably to try something along the lines of knocking herself unconscious for the day/closing her eyes during Michiru¡¯s death, hence the line ¡®not observing something was the equivalent of not existing at all,¡¯ but obviously that doesn¡¯t work -Michiru¡¯s explanation of ¡®chance¡¯: every single object, including you and me and lottery machines, follow the laws of physics. Meaning that if some objects are arranged in a certain way (in a closed system, but this is irrelevant I¡¯m only saying this so my high school physics teacher doesn¡¯t yell at me), for example, a billiard ball collides with another billiard ball, they will always, with 100% absolute certainty, end up in a particular arrangement. If we extend this idea, to say, the entire universe, then given one initial state of the universe, the universe should, 100% of the time, end up in one arrangement (i.e if there are a million identical universes, then all of them should end up in the same exact final state). In other words, given enough processing power and enough information, you should be able to predict the future up to the end of the universe(this idea is known as Laplace¡¯s Demon, and isn¡¯t entirely correct but it¡¯s mostly true). Hence, science basically accepts that free will doesn¡¯t exist -Michiru¡¯s loop: Michiru is also always repeating, but unlike Ayaka, her loop never ends (based on her explanation, anyway). She dies on the fifth of October, Ayaka makes that day cease to exist, they remain together for a while, then at some point in the future, she time-leaps back to a time before she met Ayaka and repeats this whole process again. She keeps no memories between time-leaps (only subconscious ones), and the only time she remembers is after Ayaka has repeated 1001 times. However, since those days aren¡¯t chosen, she doesn¡¯t remember remembering -As a side note, Ayaka describes a ¡®forced sleep¡¯ at the end of every day, so she presumably can¡¯t stay awake and see what happens -The anthropic principle (which I described already, but this is in the context of the story): Firstly, fate/the world is not omnipotent. For instance, fate tried its best to kill Yuuka, knowing that she would be a key person in Michiru becoming a witch. How the anthropic principle applies here: essentially, in order for the world as we know it to exist, Ayaka must exist. After one million iterations, Ayaka cannot make it into the sixth of October, so by the anthropic principle, any world where Michiru¡¯s magic doesn¡¯t consume Ayaka¡¯s memories no longer exists to Ayaka, so for Ayaka, there can only be one outcome. -Yuuka¡¯s magic, in her own words, is that her brain is slightly more flexible than a normal human¡¯s. Meaning that as long as she can ¡®see¡¯ a possibility, she can interweave it with other possibilities. Since Ayaka can ¡®see¡¯ a future where Michiru is a witch, even if in a different reality before she time-leaped, Yuuka can stitch that reality with the current one Volume 1 - Epilogue However, without quite knowing why, I felt that that fifth of October, filled with unease, had been a turning point. From then on, my relationship with my curse changed a little. In the past, I resented and resented my extraordinary memory, despising even the thought of utilizing my memory to benefit myself. Now was different. My curse was still undoubtedly a curse, but for some odd reason, I felt like it had been useful in protecting something precious to me. It was just a feeling though. Therefore, I decided to accept just that much. And with that tiny change in mindset, I was able to alter some small aspects of my life. One day, I unexpectedly encountered Hamano Aria in one of the school¡¯s hallways. ¡°I saw your exhibition at the cultural festival.¡± As soon as she saw the identity of the speaker, her face broke out into a scowl. Given everything, that was only natural. The fact that she didn¡¯t instantly walk away was more than I could ask for. ¡°It was really lovely.¡± Hamano said nothing. For the art club¡¯s cultural festival exhibition, she¡¯d painted a magnificent oil painting. I remembered seeing her art on display while Michiru and I had been touring the cultural festival. ¡°W-what was good about it?¡± ¡°The color. Viewing your painting under the morning light compared to the afternoon light creates two different impressions.¡± ¡°T-that¡¯s enough¡­¡± I¡¯d been worried that had I misread her artistic intention, I might hurt her further, but seeing Hamano unable to contain herself and start talking, I was thankful that I had conveyed my feelings to her. If the old me was standing in my place, nothing would¡¯ve come from this chance encounter. ¡°You don¡¯t have to say any more. I¡¯m glad that Aizawa-san saw my painting.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± After our brief exchange of words, we continued on our separate ways almost as if our meeting had never happened. I¡¯d barely taken ten steps when I heard Hamano¡¯s voice call out from behind, stopping me in my tracks. ¡°Aizawa-san!¡± When I turned around, I saw Hamano Aria standing precisely ten steps away from me, her feet planted firmly into the ground. The small artist¡¯s words were filled to the brim with strength and determination. ¡°Please come take a look at my art again some time!¡±¡± In response, I gave a single, enthusiastic nod. [space] On a different day, after class, I helped a classmate, Kotani-san, find a book in the library. As the two of us walked through the hallway, Kotani-san appeared deeply moved, even though I hadn¡¯t done much to speak of. ¡°Thanks, Aizawa-san! Without you, I would¡¯ve never found the book!¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad we managed to find it.¡± In our search for the book, I¡¯d utilized my absolute memory. The book in question had been misplaced in the wrong bookshelf, and by coincidence, I¡¯d known where it was. Perhaps my method was unjust and dishonest. Perhaps my unique memory was truly something abhorrent, and perhaps someday, like a prophecy, I¡¯d receive my punishment for abusing the power of a witch. But Michiru had told me. She¡¯d told me that it wasn¡¯t a curse, nor a disease, but an amazing ability. So I¡¯d puff my chest out with pride and use my extraordinary memory to help others. ¡°Aizawa-san, you¡¯re a lot different from what I imagined.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°U-um, well, you seemed almost too perfect and hard to approach¡­ or at least, that¡¯s what everyone says.¡± So that¡¯s what people thought of me, huh. I was a little disheartened. ¡°Then, see you tomorrow.¡± ¡°Yeah, see you.¡± See you tomorrow¨C I loved those words. I wanted to repeat them over and over again. Even if today weren¡¯t chosen, I would see them tomorrow again and retry today. However many times it took. ¡­However many times. I began to believe that I could change from a isolated, friendless creature into a functioning human being. Just a little, at least. Yuuka had told me that I didn¡¯t have to be useful to someone in order to live. But wasn¡¯t that precisely why being useful to others was so precious? Not that Yuuka¡¯s words had influenced me or anything like that. Because they most certainly had not. Nevertheless, there wasn¡¯t anyone who understood me. I was admittedly lonely, but that was simply an unavoidable result. After all, I hadn¡¯t told anyone about my unusual circumstances. I still lacked the courage to attempt something like that. But maybe, one day- Thanks to the fact that I¡¯d become a little more ¡®normal,¡¯ I received a reward. One day, there came a knock on my door. An event that hadn¡¯t occurred since I was ten years old- a span of twenty-five years. ¡°Ayaka.¡± It was the voice of my father. ¡°Won¡¯t you come live with us again?¡± I was still holding the doorknob to the half-open door when those words reached my ears. My father, who looked a little more aged than before, reached through the doorway and took my stiff, frozen hand, his words sounding apologetic. My mind couldn¡¯t process anything that was happening, and my thoughts were in a daze. Once we entered the house, my mother stared at me, trepidation written all over her face. Perhaps she thought I¡¯d blame her. Perhaps she thought I¡¯d scream something like ¡®how dare you throw me away!¡¯ But I only looked away, avoiding her eyes swirling with anxiety and fear. She was brave, I thought. My mother had found the strength to face her daughter again. I stepped into my room for the first time in twenty-five years. It looked exactly like I remembered, left exactly in the same state since I¡¯d been chased out all that time ago. No, rather- it hadn¡¯t been ¡®left in the same state¡¯- even forgetting about how my smallest and most trivial possessions were still there, having been carefully preserved, the room was too clean to have been neglected. There wasn¡¯t a single speck of dust anywhere in sight. Someone must have regularly cleaned the room. ¡°Ayaka¡­ sorry.¡± My mother, crying, embraced me. I suddenly felt my eyes begin to grow warm. So, with as much sarcasm as I could possibly muster, I opened my mouth. ¡°Father, mother- I¡¯m home.¡± And with that, we were even. Obviously, such a blissful day wasn¡¯t chosen. But it wouldn¡¯t be entirely correct to say that the events of that day had ceased to exist. I knew how my parents truly felt. One might argue that they had thrown my away. But it wasn¡¯t because they hadn¡¯t loved me. It was solely because there was no way for us to continue to coexist together as a happy family. That¡¯s why they were concerned about me. With my slight change in mindset, my parents became so concerned for my lifestyle to the point where they were willing to redo everything from the very beginning. So I was no longer bitter. The Twelfth of October A Class had already ended, and I sat at my desk blankly staring into space. I basked in the peaceful tranquility, absentmindedly recalling the day with my parents that ended up not being chosen. I held an open paperback book in my hands, but my eyes roved past the blocks of words and text without reading anything. My mother¡¯s courage. The courage to accept her child once more. Perhaps one day, I¡¯d discover that courage as well. I gazed out the window. The autumn sky was gray, barely visible above a layer of clouds, the humid air signaling an inevitable rain. Like the weather, the air in the room was frigid, chilling my feet. Naturally, on such a gloomy day, everyone had headed home the instant class ended, leaving only two individuals. ¡°Are you not going home?¡± I spoke. I really wanted to head home before the rain started to fall. I hadn¡¯t brought an umbrella. I¡¯d make sure to bring one on the following today though. But since Michiru didn¡¯t seem to have intention of leaving, ignoring her and heading home alone would feel a little lonely. The second hand of the analog clock above the blackboard never ceased its ticking, walking fruitlessly around and around again only to always end up back in the same spot. You might not know this, I silently told the second hand, but not every day is exactly the same, even if it might seem that way to you. ¡°Hey, Ayaka. So, um.¡± Two minutes, thirty-eight seconds, and seven hundred and fifty milliseconds later later- by the way, it takes a drop of water around two-hundred and fifty milliseconds to fall from my kitchen faucet into the sink- Michiru began to mumble hesitantly. ¡°You might think I¡¯m weird for saying this, but-¡° Her lips tightened severely, her cheeks flushed a healthy shade of red as they filled with determination, and at the pressure of her gaze fixed firmly on me, I felt my body grow hot and my heart begin to pound. ¡°There¡¯s something I¡¯ve been meaning to tell you, Ayaka. But it¡¯s not really something normal.¡± Michiru¡¯s hands tightened around mine, and the book I¡¯d been holding dropped from my hands. I have to remember what page I¡¯m on- but even as that thought flashed through my mind, I felt it would be an incredible waste to avert my eyes away from Michiru, even if only for the tiniest of moments, so ultimately, I found myself unable to tear my eyes away until the book had fallen shut onto my desk, its back cover facing me. ¡°But, when I thought about saying it to you, for some reason, I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d find it unpleasant. It¡¯s almost like this situation has happened before, and you accepted my words¡­ would you believe me if I said this was deja vu?¡± When the two of us had barely met, Michiru had boldly declared to me that she could use magic, and yet now, she sounded uncharacteristically hesitant, fumbling for words. ¡°Of course I¡¯d believe you.¡± In the past, it was a feeling I¡¯d never known. But recently, I¡¯d come to experience it for myself. Whenever I tried to help Michiru, or do something for her, a curious feeling of deja vu surfaced from the recesses of my mind. It was a strange sensation, and I couldn¡¯t remember where such a feeling might originate from, nor find even a similar scene no matter how hard I searched my memories. It was such a feeling now that gave me an intuition as to what came next. ¡°Hey, Ayaka. I, like-¡° I couldn¡¯t wait anymore. I covered Michiru¡¯s mouth, which was still trying to force out her words. Just this once, it wasn¡¯t something as unreliable as intuition, nor something as vague as deja vu, but something just as strong as that day in my absolute memory where we kissed- T/N: There¡¯s a short chapter after this one, which is the last chapter in volume 1. I have midterms this week, so the plan is: Kino no Tabi -> Kimi ga Shinu Made Koi wo Shitai -> Midterms -> Unforgettable Witch (last chapter) -> Unforgettable Witch Vol. 2 Ch. 1 Oh, also. In case you missed it, this story now has a manga(!). On the other hand, you can¡¯t view it on a browser (I think?) and you need to go through its app, which I also can¡¯t seem to download because it¡¯s region-based (or something?). So basically, if someone wants to provide the raws, I¡¯d love to scanlate the manga, but otherwise, we¡¯ll (me included) just never get to read the manga. Volume 2 - Prologue Time is like a shooting star. Even when you¡¯re not watching, it continues to flow onwards. But no one knows where its destination might be. The Thirteenth of October A It was the last day of midterm exams. The bell rang, announcing the conclusion of the final test. In that instant, countless sighs echoed from classrooms throughout the school. ¡°How did you solve that last problem-¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I saw Aizawa-san sleeping during the second half.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°It¡¯s finally over¡­¡± As the exam proctor dismissed the class, you could feel the tension in the atmosphere dissipate at once. Tests were finally over. Now students could enjoy their freedom. Devote themselves to club activities. Use their smartphones. The restless, giddy mood was shared by top students and bottom students alike. For bottom students, this was their only chance to stretch their wings before judgment dragged them to the ground. ¡°How¡¯d it go? ¡­though I guess there¡¯s no point in asking you, ¡¯cause your answer is always the same, right Ayaka?¡± As I began to pack my things, a girl who already had her backpack slung over her shoulder approached my desk. Her beautiful smile often made me wonder if she¡¯d been born so that people would love her. Her name was Inaba Michiru. ¡°What about you, Michiru? Did it go okay¡­?¡± ¡°No worries! I didn¡¯t leave a single question blank!¡± Confidence shone on Michiru¡¯s face, as if declaring you can count on me! ¡­All I felt was a disturbing premonition though. Low marks would be troubling. Our time together would decrease, and there would be less chances for us to go places¡­ Woah, woah- what am I saying¡­ For the time being, I shelved any thoughts about the test. The listless atmosphere that still hung in the classroom affected even me, and I found myself caught up in the moment, forgetting all my worries. At any rate, school had ended before noon today. Which meant I could invite Michiru to lunch¡­ Fast food? Cafe? Perhaps we could stretch our legs and head for the shopping center¡¯s food court? A shopping date¡­ no, no, this wasn¡¯t anything like that. This was just a shopping trip between best friends. Or I could make her something myself. We could shop for ingredients, then bring them back to my home where I¡¯d cook for her. What would Michiru think about that? Would she be happy? Or would I be causing her trouble? ¡°Hey, want to each lunch together?¡± ¡°Ah, sure. Sounds good.¡± After my anxious fretting, I hesitantly brought up the topic, only for Michiru to answer so nonchalantly that it felt almost anticlimactic. Though that was just like her. ¡°We can eat out, or I can make whatever you want to eat if you want to come over to my place.¡± ¡°Really? Your food is so good!¡± Michiru exclaimed delightedly, as if I¡¯d already cooked the meal. And on top that, she steadily moved closer and closer to me, and she smelled so nice¡­ that¡¯s not what I meant to say! ¡°H-hey!¡± ¡°Ehehe. Tests are finally over! It¡¯s the best feeling in the world!¡± Her enthusiasm never dwindled as she wrapped me in a hug. Her body, pressed tightly against mine, was so relentless that I imagined I could taste her sweetness on the tip of my tongue. Perhaps the end of tests had caused her to loose all restraints, but she was unusually aggressive. ¡­I felt numerous looks in our direction, but it was a sort of ah, those two are at it again feeling¡­ ¡°Let go,¡± I said as I grasped her right hand tightly. ¡°¡­T-they¡¯re staring.¡± ¡°Hm? Who?¡± ¡°Everyone. It¡¯s embarrassing¡­¡± ¡°¡­Alright, alright. If you say so.¡± Why did that feel like I was asking a favor¡­? Michiru reluctantly moved away. But only about thirty centimeters away. Instead of letting go completely, her right hand sought my left hand. Well, if it was only this much, I could indulge her. ¡°Let¡¯s stop by the supermarket on the way and-¡° We could have lunch together, then afterwards, I could spend the entire afternoon alone with Michiru. Holding back my eagerness, I stared to talk about our shopping plans. ¡°Inaba!¡± Someone called Michiru¡¯s name. Feeling as though I were being provoked, I reflexively let go of Michiru¡¯s hand. I turned back towards the classroom where the voice had come from, catching sight of three girls. One of them was waving in our direction. ¡°Aizawa, can you also come here for a sec?¡± the waving girl said loudly. She was Fukayasu-san. The other two were Miki-san and Sasaki-san. Our class¡¯s social groups mostly centered around these three. Michiru and I exchanged brief glances before moving to join them. In the past, I would¡¯ve let Michiru go by herself, opting to avoid participating in their talk. Now was different. I¡¯d made the decision to change, little by little. To learn to socialize, a skill that came naturally to other girls of my age. To move closer to normalcy. Because now, it was something I needed to do. ¡°I was saying we should eat at a family restaurant, but these two don¡¯t wanna listen.¡± Saying that, Fukayasu-san hmphed at Miki-san and Sasaki-san. Fukayasu-san¡¯s language was somewhat crude- er, rather, un-ladylike. ¡°I think Dottor would be nice though.¡± Miki-san offered a counter-proposal, though her words didn¡¯t have much force behind them. (T/N: Based on Doutor, an actual coffee shop) ¡°Dottor¡¯s much too far, isn¡¯t it?¡± Fukayasu-san¡¯s response was swift and decisive. ¡°I know we haven¡¯t made afternoon plans yet, but I want to check out that area later,¡± Sasaki-san said happily, seemingly unaware of the conversation flow. A friend of a friend was a candidate for a new friend. And so, I had no intention of turning them down. I was genuinely happy that I¡¯d been invited, and I¡¯d still be together with Michiru. And yet, I also felt disappointment. I didn¡¯t understand why. Today should¡¯ve been a day with just Michiru and me- just the two of us. Ultimately, the source of my frustration had to lie with that feeling. ¡°Aizawa, decide for us. Whose idea is better?¡± ¡°Me?¡± ¡°Yeah. You be the judge.¡± Fukayasu-san¡¯s eyes glittered. Ah, so something like this, huh. They were giving me a role to play. Fukayasu-san¡¯s blunt manner was intimidating at first, but at the same time, she¡¯d seamlessly created a place for me in her circle of friends. She was an unmistakably caring person. I discreetly inspected the group. First, Miki-san. She was looking down at her nails uninterestedly, then for a brief second, glanced up at me. If I only cared about relationships, I should probably pick Miki-san. I doubt Fukayasu-san would get angry if I did, and conversely, I don¡¯t think Miki-san would find it amusing if I took Fukayasu-san¡¯s opinion seriously. Ah, but today really was supposed to be with Michiru¡­ as I fumbled through my thoughts, I stole a quick peek at Michiru, who was smiling ambiguously at me. Either one is fine, Ayaka. Pick whichever one you like more¨C she seemed to be saying. Noticing my indecision, Miki-san and Sasaki-san took pity on me and butted in teasingly. ¡°If you don¡¯t know who to pick, just pick me!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let them pressure you.¡± If I refused, I¡¯d destroy the entire mood of the conversation. I felt like I was finally beginning to develop friendships with them, and they¡¯d gone out of their way to invite me, so I couldn¡¯t just refuse. If I refused today, they might never invite me again. In reality, I spent no more than ten seconds fretting and deliberating. Suddenly. Fukayasu-san spoke. ¡°Ah, Aizawa, you don¡¯t have to come with us.¡± ¡°Eh¡­¡± As if she were proclaiming that my time had run out. Miki-san and Sasaki-san stiffened. Why did she say that? Was I being excluded? What did I do? Was it because I couldn¡¯t decide fast enough? Question marks filled my head. ¡°Inaba too.¡± But no one had anticipated Fukayasu-san¡¯s intentions. She hadn¡¯t meant to be malicious, or bully me, or exclude me. ¡°You two have other plans, right?¡± ¡°W-why do you say that?¡± Having been completely seen through, Michiru replied with wide eyes. ¡°Well, ¡¯cause it¡¯s the last day of tests. There¡¯s probably a million things you guys were planning on doing. I just wanted you to choose whose lunch idea is better.¡± Why did I have to decide other peoples¡¯ lunch plans though. ¡°Why not just flip a coin?¡± ¡°You mean, drop it onto the ground, and then whichever direction it rolls to, we eat at the restaurant there?¡± ¡°I guess that¡¯s fine too. I was thinking something like, if it lands heads you eat at one place, and tails the other.¡± ¡°What a stylish method! I should¡¯ve used that method on the test too!¡± At Fukayasu-san¡¯s joking manner, Miki-san and Sasaki-san loosened up and laughed along. ¡°Then, see you next week,¡± Fukayasu-san said, waving. ¡°Yeah. Bye, Natsume-chan,¡± Michiru replied. Carrying our backpacks, the two of us left the classroom into an empty hallway. ...? Was Fukayasu-san being considerate of us? Regardless, weren¡¯t her powers of observation a little too good? I was sure I hadn¡¯t let my emotions show so blatantly. As we walked, I took out a hand mirror, and from my memory, replicated the expression I¡¯d worn back then. It wasn¡¯t as if I want to be alone together with Michiru was plainly written over my face. It was a boring expression that I¡¯d long since grown accustomed to seeing. ¡°Ayaka? What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°Nothing¡­¡± ¡°Hm, a mirror? Don¡¯t worry, you look cute as usual.¡± ¡°¡­¡± I didn¡¯t. I definitely didn¡¯t, but for some reason, I help but feel overjoyed. I watched helplessly as a tiny smile began forming across my cheeks. Recently, some mechanism in my brain had gone haywire. Maybe it was because I was trying to change myself in vain. Volume 2 - CH 1 I ran, as if fleeing the noise of the shrill, screeching brakes. Beneath the jet black night, I grabbed Michiru¡¯s hand and fled. I was certainly fleeing, but who exactly was I fleeing from? What was it that I had to avoid? All I knew was that if I stood by watching idly, Michiru would die. I didn¡¯t remember, but I knew. It would unmistakably happen. My heart was burst. I could no longer tell whether that was due to the running or my anxiousness. I was squeezing her hand, so she must be safe. As long as there was still warmth and tenderness left in this hand, she must be safe. But I lacked the strength to turn around and look. I moved my legs again. As if to break free from a dreading premonition. A premonition like I wanted to break free arose, and yet now was already far too late to act. The instant I realized that, the hand I was so tightly gripping slipped away. I had failed to rescue her again. I steeled myself, and slowly turned around. Here and there, crimson red footprints stained the ground. The footprints belonged to one person. There were none others. ¡­Ah, the owner of these footsteps must be an awful person. She was so precious, someone I couldn¡¯t ever lose, and yet she died. She saved me, and yet I was powerless, and couldn¡¯t protect her no matter how hard I struggled. It was hell. That¡¯s why I had no other choice. I brought my right hand I was so tightly gripping to my chest. If Michiru¡¯s hand wasn¡¯t there, I wouldn¡¯t be able to go on. And yet, the thing it was gripping was an unbelievably light fruit knife. I squeezed my eyes shut, unconsciously picturing the current scene in my mind. A familiar person was stretched out onto the ground in front of me, and I knew that she had passed away. A fruit knife in my hands, and someone¡¯s corpse. Had I killed her? That couldn¡¯t be right. I could remember. Anything and everything, perfectly, completely. If I hadn¡¯t killed her, then why was she collapsed on the ground? But who cared about the reason? She was already dead, so there was nothing left for me to do ¡®today.¡¯ For a brief second, I met eyes with the me reflected in the sharp fruit knife. The rest was easy. A painless method. The ultimate act of self-harm. I flawlessly executed the motions I¡¯d repeated thousands of times before. I dreamed that Inaba Michiru died. In traffic accidents, falling down stairs, struck by lighting, countless nonsensical, illogical events that were beyond absurd even for dreams. In especially gruesome cases, she even lost her life to a random slasher attack. The repulsively violent nature of these experiences, not to mention the dying itself, were unbelievably frightening. I couldn¡¯t resist no matter how hard I tried. Whatever preparations I attempted were futile. The conclusion had been carved in stone from the very beginning, and she continued to die. Every time, I despaired, chasing after her through suicide. Because that way, the day wouldn¡¯t be chosen. I could erase that day. I didn¡¯t know why. Why my death would result in an unchosen day. I was too self-centered to worry about that. I didn¡¯t understand why, but I faithfully followed that rule. ¡°Recently, I¡¯ve been having weird dreams.¡± I had never dreamed a single time before, but recently, my nights had become filled with nightmares all of the same variety. ¡°Mm.¡± Sitting across the table from me was my cousin who occasionally came for dinner- none other than Minase Yuuka. Sunday night, and Yuuka was stuffing her face with cream puffs as she listened to my story. When she came for dinner, she frequently brought sweets along as a gift. Was she planning on turning me into a pig? Perhaps the better question was, how wasn¡¯t she fat? Maybe she was a monster? ¡°What kind of dreams?¡± ¡°Um, about an important person dying.¡± With her face bulging with cream puffs, she froze, her eyes widening. ¡°I know what¡¯s going to happen, and try to stop it, but it never works. I always fail no matter how many times it happens, and I always end up feeling extremely sad.¡± I said nothing of the specifics. Admittedly, whenever I tried to put my thoughts into words and explain to others, the process felt far too raw, and emotionally impossible for me. And besides, the words ¡®Michiru died¡¯ wasn¡¯t something I could utter so easily. ¡°Oho, sounds like a tragic play!¡± In a forced motion, Yuuka turned her face towards the ceiling. ¡°So in your dreams, I died every night, didn¡¯t I!¡± I paused. I¡¯d probably chosen the wrong person to consult. Unaffected by my scornful gaze, she continued to talk in her usual tone. ¡°But still, they¡¯re dreams, right? You can remember them?¡± ¡°Did you forget about my absolute memory?¡± I could never forget my innate ability. I could absolutely never forget even the smallest, most trivial of details. As long as I saw or heard it a single time, I would remember it forever. The socks I wore on the fifth of April when I was five years old, the number of times I sneezed on the tenth of October when I was ten years old- I remembered anything and everything as well as I remembered last night¡¯s dinner. So naturally, I remembered the scenes from my dreams, but on account of what I¡¯d seen, I couldn¡¯t feel at ease. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant. I was just commenting on how you¡¯re like a superhuman,¡± Yuuka said with narrowed eyes. She probably meant something harmless, like ¡®Oh, I¡¯m so jealous of your memory,¡¯ or ¡®It¡¯s so amazing how you know things ordinary people can¡¯t,¡¯ or maybe ¡®You¡¯re full of surprises,¡¯ but her perfectly normal words stirred up my awful persecution complex. ¡°Don¡¯t make me out as a monster.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to. But normally, people don¡¯t remember their dreams.¡± She was alluding to the fact that people had four or five dreams every night. Except, the next morning, they would remember one or two at most. And by evening, humans would forget almost all of the fantasies that their brain had conjured up the night before. I didn¡¯t forget. Because my memory was perfect. Dreams were no exception. ¡°¡­Aya-chan, you¡¯ve changed.¡± ¡°Is that so.¡± ¡°Before, you never would¡¯ve never objected to being made out as a monster.¡± That was true. Even if their words hurt, I never told others to view me as human. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t care about people¡¯s opinions about you.¡± Well¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure if Yuuka qualified as a person, but her words were on point. I never bothered trying to understand what others were thinking, and I had less confidence in myself than anyone else. I had given up on living, existing only as a heartless monster who easily trampled over the feelings of others. However. I had decided to put that to an end. I didn¡¯t know, nor did I really care, about what the trigger for such a decision had been, but surely it was because I had to change. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten weaker, Aya-chan. Congratulations,¡± Yuuka said with a smile that bore no malice. What was with that ambiguous phrasing¡­ The Twenty-Eighth of October A Question: What day of the week comes four days after the last Monday of this week, as well as three days before the first Wednesday? Answer: Tuesday. However, there are seven of them total. Midterms were over. Obviously, ridiculous questions like the one above didn¡¯t appear on the test. Once more, I had successfully protected my status as a top scorer. Perhaps this might come as a surprise, but as I had zero sociability skills, test results were a matter of life and death. As I had discovered previously to my great amazement, achieving high test results came with immeasurable side benefits. On one of those Wednesdays after class, lightly colored clouds crowded out the sky while a humidity that almost clung to one¡¯s skin permeated the air. I stood to the side of the entrance, waiting for Michiru. We¡¯d made plans to walk home together, but she hadn¡¯t come out of the staff room yet. For almost an entire week, Michiru had refused to even acknowledge her midterm grades, and was now on the receiving end of the homeroom teacher¡¯s harsh scolding. I stood on the cold, clinical linoleum floor, leaning against the wall as I waited. The staff room entrance wasn¡¯t exactly the most popular gathering place for students, almost entirely devoid of life. The shoerack next to me was as depressing as the rest of the place, and I could barely concentrate on the paperback book in my hands. The frigid atmosphere reached from outside all the way inside the school building. I somehow figured that the time spent waiting for a person dear to me should¡¯ve felt warmer, but now that we were this deep into gloomy autumn, it wasn¡¯t exactly my fault. And even though no one was criticizing me for wishing Michiru would hurry up and leave the staff room, I felt compelled to shift the blame onto the weather. I pouted my lips. ¡°Sorry for making you wait.¡± As I was busy sulking around like a child, Michiru returned. ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡± ¡°I somehow managed to avoid getting remedial lessons!¡± She skipped cheerfully down the hall, filled with pride as if she¡¯d just won a court case. Swept up in her mood, I felt like celebrating with her, but I felt uncomfortable at the thought that she¡¯d narrowly avoided failing marks. Speaking of which, her grades hadn¡¯t been nearly as bad in the spring. They¡¯d definitely dropped recently. ¡°But if you fail the finals, we¡¯ll lose our entire winter break together,¡± I said teasingly. ¡°Did you¡­ see what happened in there?¡± Michiru¡¯s face reddened. ¡°Nope. But waiting here was boring.¡± ¡°I said I was sorry¡­¡± I rarely went on the offensive, so Michiru was understandably distressed. How devious of me. The warm, affectionate mood was dissipating, fast. I needed a follow-up for my teasing. What should I say? ¡°Um, so¡­ waiting wasn¡¯t so bad, even if it was boring. But if you do badly on the next test¡­ that, will be bad, right?¡± Doing badly is bad... I was babbling like an idiot. ¡°So, um¡­ for the finals, d-do you want to study together?¡± What incredibly calculating, aggressive words. I was such a calculating, aggressive person, wasn¡¯t I? I was disgusted at my own self. I had nonchalantly seized the initiative and cunningly crafted plans all by myself. Appearing to consider the other party¡¯s needs, in reality only thinking about myself. I¡¯d been insolent. Of course she¡¯d see through my deceit. She¡¯d scorn me. Fearfully, timidly, I peeked at Michiru. ¡°-mrgh-¡° She was hugging me. What the heck. I¡¯d only managed a brief glance, but I saw that Michiru was blushing. Why¡­? ¡°M-Michiru¡­?¡± ¡°Ayaka!¡± I-I was being constricted¡­ Something had happened. What kind of magic was this? ¡°You¡¯re too cute!¡± ¡°What do you mean¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re- so- illegally- cute! Let¡¯s study lots!¡± Our cheeks rubbed together- even hugs I¡¯d seen in Western movies were nowhere as feverish as this- and I felt myself grow dizzy while a pleasant scent wafted around me. The illegal one was definitely her. Expressing her feelings in such a straightforward way. I¡¯d never manage something like that. But, teasing Michiru was unexpectedly fun. Maybe I should keep doing it. Recently, Michiru had been aggressively seeking skinship. Ever since the cultural festival, the distance between us had rapidly shrunk. It felt bizarre. Admittedly, I still remembered that day filled with unease, and welcomed what Michiru sought from me¡­ or rather, I didn¡¯t hate it. As I grappled with the odd feeling, the two of us changed shoes and headed outside. The leaves hadn¡¯t quite changed color yet, with most of foliage still a lush green. The chilly, mid-autumn wind brushed against my flushed cheeks, making it seem colder than it already was. ¡°It¡¯s so cold¡­ it¡¯s so cold, Michiru.¡± I tried my hardest to act spoiled. I was acting soft and spoiled, but using every ounce of my fiber to do so. ¡°It¡¯s only October though?¡± ¡°According the chinese seasonal calendar, this time of year would be called the frost season. It¡¯s when frost forms. So, yeah, that¡¯s why.¡± ¡°It¡¯s ¡¯cause you don¡¯t have any fat, Ayaka. No wonder you¡¯re cold then!¡± Michiru pressed close against me, wrapping her arms around my sides. ¡°H-hey! Don¡¯t touch me in weird places.¡± ¡°Hmm, I wonder if this fat can withstand the frost season¡­¡± ¡°I can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re complimenting or insulting me!¡± ¡°Obviously I¡¯m complimenting you.¡± After Michiru had enjoyed my sides to her satisfaction, she released me, taking two quick steps away, as if dancing. She was kind, lively, and had many friends. My exact opposite. She didn¡¯t have the slightest qualms with touching others. But, she never felt distant. Because she always stayed within arm¡¯s reach, never leaving me. ¡°Hey, Michiru.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Can we hold hands?¡± In a fluid motion, she took my outstretched hand. Once that happened, neither of us could look the other in the eye. I knew that both of us were blushing, but we resumed the conversation as if nothing had changed. Ours was a relationship built on a miraculous balance. -Let¡¯s call each other by our first names. My heart had throbbed then. A pulse so strong it hurt. That pleasant hurt continued even now. My never-dulling memories recalled the throbbing of my heart from back then. Blood rushed from every part of my body and back so rapidly that I almost wondered whether my lifespan shrunk every time that memory resurfaced. From that moment on, I stopped calling her Inaba-san. And I was no longer called Aizawa-san. I think that was the moment our relationship explicitly changed. I didn¡¯t know if our changing relationship had caused us to address each other differently, or the other way around, but I didn¡¯t mind not knowing which it was. It was the frost season, that stretch of time immediately following the end of midterm exams. The Twenty-Eight of October B You¡¯re probably aware of this already, but the world repeats itself. This was the second iteration of the twenty-eight of October. Yesterday was also the twenty-eight of October. According to the common sense of the world, the same day only ever comes once. That¡¯s why one must spend each and every irreplaceable day living without regrets. ¡­or so goes the accepted rationale. But if you asked me, all of that was entirely wrong, and each day repeated so many times that I was entirely disgusted with it all. Specifically, days repeated five times on average. However, only the events of one day would be chosen, and I didn¡¯t know which day that would be. Humans were only gifted memories of that chosen day, while all other days became nothingness. Which is why I had to ensure that every single day would turn out well. For instance, I needed to score full marks on every single repeated test day. Otherwise, the day on which I¡¯d cut corners might be chosen. And at that point, I wouldn¡¯t be able to complain. I couldn¡¯t spend a day in idleness. Because while I could remember everything, I couldn¡¯t return to yesterday as long as I didn¡¯t possess something as absurd as magic. I mentioned this already, but I never forgot things I¡¯d seen or heard once. That was simply how I was born. Neither of my parents had recognized that. They¡¯d refused to acknowledge my claims, calling me a liar, but I couldn¡¯t change my behavior. I used memories of days that hadn¡¯t been chosen, uttering prophecies. I predicted people¡¯s actions in advance, achieving high grades on tests in school. My daughter is incredible. How badly I wanted to hear those words. As a result of my actions, I drove my mother into a corner. ¨CYou must be a witch. I clearly remember her trembling voice. I couldn¡¯t forget. I wanted my parents to recognize me for who I was. I didn¡¯t need anything else. And my sole wish was fulfilled in the most ironic sense. In our cramped garden, they constructed a detached building, quarantining their daughter. Thus, my claims were recognized, and I was treated as a witch. At that time, I was resentful. Thinking back on it now, well, I understood where they were coming from. Their young daughter uttered baseless statements about a repeating world, bringing up promises that they had never made- of course they¡¯d treat them as lies. And yet the daughter said everything with a dead serious expression, refusing to rectify her behavior no matter how many times she was scolded, and finally, they brought her to the hospital but even the doctor gave up after finding nothing wrong, at which point they were out of options. At that time, I was undoubtedly a witch.. Thus, I slept and woke in my cramped, makeshift building, even to this day. I had a carefree lifestyle, but the building lacked insulation, so summers were hot and winters were cold. In other words, rather inadequate living conditions. Elderly people should empathize me. Because in terms of bodily experience, I was over seventy-five years old. By the way, aging five times faster than normal takes its toll on one¡¯s mental. Instead of waiting outside the staff room as I¡¯d done yesterday, I was standing in front of the art room¡¯s entrance. I roughly knew when she¡¯d be back, so I figured I¡¯d spend my time somewhere that wasn¡¯t the cold, lifeless corridor. When I stepped into the room, the person inside turned to look at me. ¡°Aizawa-san, you came! Please teach me today as well!¡± ¡°¡­sure, I guess.¡± Hamano Aria was alone, and once she spotted me, ran up to me with the zeal of a clingy puppy. After the cultural festival, we¡¯d briefly talked. Two weeks had passed since. I never would have dreamed that she¡¯d become this friendly. ¡°Are you alone? Where¡¯s the club president?¡± ¡°The weather doesn¡¯t look great, so everyone left early.¡± Apparently, they wanted to get home before a full-blown storm erupted. Hamano seemed dissatisfied. ¡°You¡¯re quite passionate, aren¡¯t you.¡± ¡°I want to git gud!¡± Hamano declared, exhaling deeply from her nose. I didn¡¯t mean any rudeness, but her phrasing and pronunciation was too funny. I couldn¡¯t help but be reminded of that awful meme. (T/N: the japanese pun isn¡¯t much better) ¡°Please teach me!¡± ¡°Alright, I get it, I get it.¡± This week, I¡¯d visited the art room several times already and talked to Hamano. To put our former antagonism in the past had been difficult, but we talked and painted together as if it¡¯d all been forgotten. ¡°How do I create something like that?¡± Hamano gestured at a unique crack in an old painting. ¡°That¡¯s not a texture you can just paint. Paint only cracks like that after five hundred years of aging.¡± Currently, Hamano area of study was centered around a painting I¡¯d painted a long time ago. Now, it was a piece I was pretty embarrassed about though. ¡°So, how would you do it, Aizawa-san?¡± ¡°I¡¯d bake it in an oven.¡± Hamano¡¯s eyes became saucers. She stiffened, her mouth hanging halfway open. I found her appearance a little comical. ¡°Bake it one hour at around 100 degrees, and if you¡¯re careful, small cracks will appear on the paint, which is the result you see.¡± The ignition point of paper was 450 degrees, while it was 200 degrees for, so as long as one carefully oversaw the temperature, the technique in question wasn¡¯t particularly difficult. It was originally developed as a forgery technique, but as long as you didn¡¯t try and sell a painting as an original, it was one-hundred percent legal. In the past, I¡¯d done a fair bit of research into it when I¡¯d thought about achieving financial independence, so I knew all about it. ¡°Amazing! Aizawa-san, you know everything!¡± I don¡¯t know everything though¡­ Perhaps I did understand finer details better than others. But my cheap, superficial knowledge would never beat her passion. Ever. One day, this petite artist would surpass me. My natural born ability of never forgetting would ultimately be overcome by her sheer dedication and hard work. I couldn¡¯t wait to see that day. I was deeply moved by Hamano and held no regrets in helping her. ¡°Aizawa-san, can I ask one more thing?¡± ¡°What?¡± I supposed she wanted to know something else about the painting. Since I couldn¡¯t imagine Hamano interested in anything else. ¡°You¡¯re really close with Inaba-san, right?¡± The question came from left field. ¡°I-I guess you could say that¡­¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to play dumb. The whole school knows at this point.¡± The whole school? And besides, look who was talking. But Hamano wasn¡¯t done with her inquiry, her next question even more unexpected than the last. ¡°Are you lovers?¡± ¡°¡­¡± We¡¯re not, I tried to say, but not a single sound came out. I was at a dead loss for words. I¡¯d never thought about that before¡­ who was I kidding. If I hadn¡¯t, I would¡¯ve been able to respond to Hamano or dodge the question. ¡°Why, do you ask?¡± In other words, I¡¯d thought about it before. And not just once or twice, I continuously pondered that question on a daily basis. What was Michiru¡¯s and my relationship? ¡°Peop- ¡­um, someone was talking about how you and Michiru were dating.¡± Hamano had originally meant to say ¡®people.¡¯ So people were gossipping about us¡­? Exactly who did ¡®people¡¯ refer to? How many? Hamano¡¯s close friends? Hamano¡¯s class? Was it such a hot topic that people from other classes were talking about it? ¡°Dating¡­ ¡­¡± ¡°¡­?¡± Hamano tilted her head. Rather adorably, might I add. Her wide eyes stared directly at me. ¡°It¡¯s not like we¡¯re not, but¡­¡± But neither one of us had explicitly said it out loud. I could only weak move my mouth. I thought of us as best friends. But, best friends didn¡¯t normally kiss each other. Which, we had done¡­ And not just once. At first, I¡¯d been on the receiving end, and then on a different day, I¡¯d been the one to¡­ ¡°So which one is it!?¡± It seemed like Hamano wouldn¡¯t accept my half-baked answers. ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know.¡± I didn¡¯t know what our relationship was. I hadn¡¯t made it clear. It was a realization that sent chills down my spine. For all this time, had I been unknowingly hurting Michiru? Now that I was thinking about it, I realized that I had never spoken the words I love you to her, nor had she said them to me. I was aghast. You¡¯re kidding¡­ a mumble escaped from within my chest. Without even a confession, feelings of love could only remain vague and indefinite. But we kissed. While swept up in the mood. Had we simply gone about it in the sloppiest way possible? ¡°You don¡¯t know? Even though this is about you?¡± Hamano said peevishly. ¡°Fine. You don¡¯t have to say it if you don¡¯t want to.¡± Beneath the gloomy, cloudy evening sky which marked the inevitable rain, inside the art room, Hamano sulked, pouting her lips. The Twenty-Eighth of October C Ever since I was young, I didn¡¯t have friends. Everyone eventually grew distant. Meanwhile, I could do everything. Jumprope, cat¡¯s cradle, I could do anything and everything extraordinarily well. Chores, studying, I could break down and learn anything and everything. Do that, teach me this, I responded to everyone¡¯s demands, whatever they might be. I happily obeyed. Not just children, but even adults acknowledged my superiority. But as I continued to oblige, I eventually reached a point where I was alone. ¨CWhat the heck, how can she do literally anything¡­ ¨CThat¡¯s really weird¡­ In the end, it all turned out the same. Ever since I grew accustomed to their bitter words and suspicious stares, I remember wearing a mask of indifference. A mask made of ice. It was heavy and cold, but at least it was no longer agonizing. I had grown numb to sensation. To the taste of loneliness, to what it meant to be sought after by others. I even forgot that I was lonely. Even though I shouldn¡¯t be able to forget anything, it was Michiru who let me remember what I had lost- of all the sensations that I had resolved to ignore. That¡¯s why I wanted to become human. In the three weeks following the cultural festival, I painstakingly tried to change myself. The latter half of lunch break in the classroom. ¡°Ayaka, want to come?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Led by Michiru¡¯s hand, I joined the group. Fukayasu Natsume- Fukayasu-san, and two others she was close with. Miki-san and Sasaki-san. The latter half of lunch break, and while they shared photos on SNS and talked about sweet shops, they also clutched english vocabulary flashcards in their hands. This school put a decent amount of emphasis on good results, which is probably why they were preparing for the afternoon quiz. Our gazes clashed as three pairs of eyes simultaneously looked at me. It reminded me of Huntington¡¯s Clash of Civilizations theory. For a just split second, I felt the tension flare, but it wasn¡¯t something I concerned myself with. After all, I was essentially a complete stranger in their friend group, so they were naturally wary. ¡°Heyo!¡± Michiru waved amiably. ¡°I feel like I always see you two together.¡± After carefully observing the two of us, Fukayasu-san smiled wryly. ¡°Intimacy is a beautiful thing, isn¡¯t it.¡± Sasaki-san spoke her assent while Miki-san nodded. ¡°Seems that way.¡± It was like I was auditioning for a play. I firmly held back any self-deprecating thoughts and responded with a careful smile. ¡­As well as I could smile, I guess. Fukayasu-san motioned for me to take a seat, giving me a broad grin. ¡°Aizawa, you look happy.¡± ¡°You¡¯re too good at reading me.¡± After Michiru sat down, I felt my posture relax. ¡°Heh heh heh, don¡¯t pretend. Midterms, right?¡± ¡°Ah¡­¡± Fukuyasu-san was talking about my midterm results from last week. I hadn¡¯t heard anyone mention them apart from Yuuka, so I didn¡¯t know how they¡¯d spread so far in this short time. ¡°What kinda brain you got in that head?¡± Fukayasu-san bantered. She was deliberately trying to break the ice for me, and I couldn¡¯t help but feel overjoyed. ¡°The test was just too easy,¡± I joked back, and the others giggled in response. I was extremely unpopular among the teachers, so if I didn¡¯t do well on tests, my school life would quickly turn into misery. I wouldn¡¯t have much fun during classes, to say the least. Luckily, there teachers who let me off the hook because of my scores, or those who respected students¡¯ autonomy, so they didn¡¯t say anything. On the other hand, there were also passionate teachers who wanted to train character alongside brains, as well as enemies of students who idiotically believed that hard work transcended all. Just thinking about them made me despondent. ¡°Jeez. Was it Yano-chan from the class next door who was shouting out the window?¡± said Fukayasu-san, smiling. She was talking about an event that occured on the Monday of this week. During lunch break at around 12:30, it was reported that several students¡¯ voices could be heard from outside the window. As they were shouting ¡®How! Why!¡¯, the disturbance was dubbed the ¡®How-Why Incident.¡¯ The main culprit behind it was Yano-san from the class next to ours. ¡°Poor girl.¡± The fact that she couldn¡¯t achieve full marks wasn¡¯t my fault. If I were a witch, then I wouldn¡¯t mind her blaming everything my curses. Her oversleeping, spilling her money right in front of the convenience store counter, her undesired grades. But I¡¯d decided to quit being a witch. So it was troubling that she was now faulting me. ¡°But still, I did super good this time. I didn¡¯t just not fail, I got average!¡± Fukuyasu-san exclaimed. Sasaki-san interrupted. ¡°That¡¯s not exactly something to be proud of?¡± Fukayasu-san countered while adjusting her seat. ¡°It is! ¡®Cause I got to talk to Aizawa-san as a result!¡± ¡°We are blessed. We are blessed,¡± Sasaki-san and Miki-san chanted, clapping their hands together as if praying. They wore reverent expressions. Their charade made me exceedingly uncomfortable. On the other side, Michiru remained oblivious. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect any less!¡± Any less of what, exactly¡­? I had no idea. ¡°You should study harder though,¡± Fukayasu-said. ¡°But cramming all night is bad for my skin!¡± At Fukayasu-san¡¯s composed straight-man act, Michiru brought up a completely unreasonable protest. ¡°Then study regularly¡­ although I guess that¡¯s not something I can say. But speaking of skin, the super-goddess-prodigy Aizawa¡¯s skin is super pretty¡­ what time do you sleep?¡± 10pm, I wanted to reply immediately. I didn¡¯t want to make it seem like a big deal. That way, they¡¯d be a little surprised, then the conversation would continue to flow naturally. But when I noticed Michiru¡¯s presence, Are you lovers? Hamano¡¯s words echoed from the recesses of my memory. My thoughts were halted by her words for an instant. And in that instant was my last chance for an immediate reply to Fukayasu-san¡¯s inquiry. But I ended up saying nothing. If I replied honestly, they might start to doubt how I didn¡¯t study at all, so I was tempted to lie and adopt the character of the diligent student who stayed up until 2am every night, but then they might think of me as a nocturnal monster with perfect skin. ¡°Ayaka sleeps at 10pm. That¡¯s the secret to perfect skin,¡± Michiru said. ¡°Wha-¡° I wanted to clutch my head. I wouldn¡¯t ever think about criticizing the innocently smiling Michiru. I hadn¡¯t been able to respond, and Michiru had saved me. But, I was undeniably ill at ease. Perhaps noticing my dilemma, or perhaps not, Michiru happily began caressing my cheeks, cheerfully chanting ¡®smooth skin! smooth skin!¡¯ Michiru¡¯s skin was extremely pretty, so I didn¡¯t seen why she couldn¡¯t just caress her own skin instead of mine. Actually, I wanted to touch them. I wonder if she¡¯d let me if I asked¡­ ¡°Hey-¡° ¡°Sleeping at 10pm isn¡¯t exactly normal, is it?¡± And obviously, she wasn¡¯t implying that normal people slept at seven or eight o¡¯clock. Though there wasn¡¯t anything wrong with sleeping early. In fact, for most of human civilization, people have slept and risen with the sun- only with recent advancements of electric lighting had humans begun to sleep later and later past sunset. ¡°It¡¯s not normal at all. Sleeping is a waste of precious time,¡± I said. ¡°But you have amazing test scores¡­ that¡¯s so unfair¡­¡± Sasaki-san said, sounding jealous from the bottom of her heart, interrupting the flow of conversation. The others were dumbfounded. I understood how they felt. I slept at 10pm even while my test grades were flawless; they could only think that I was cheating in some way. As it was already, some students had already spread rumors that I bribed teachers and whatnot. However, their dumbfoundedness was for a different reason. ¡°It¡¯s so soft¡­ I wanna keep touching forever.¡± ¡°Hey¡­? Michiru-san?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Everyone¡¯s watching, so¡­ can you save that for when we¡¯re alone?¡± What was I saying. I felt feverish, and couldn¡¯t think straight anymore. Uwah, my cheeks were being toyed with in front of other people¡­ I can¡¯t become a bridge anymore. Take responsibility for that¡­ Idiotic thoughts floated through my brain. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re right. Sorry!¡± Michiru obediently let go of my body. Dubious stares peered at us from all directions. Miki-san was the first to break the silence, cutting through the awkward atmosphere. She spoke hesitantly, as if she wasn¡¯t sure if asking was appropriate, but couldn¡¯t contain her curiosity. ¡°Are you two¡­ um, dating?¡± I paled. D-da¡­t-ting¡­ It was as if a woodpecker was pecking my empty head over and over again, and all I could hear and feel were the revertebrations rippling through my skull. Hamano had also asked, but the impact of Miki-san¡¯s question was exponentially greater. Maybe because other people were around. Or maybe because she was the second person to ask. Perhaps some common event had led them both to ask the same thing? ¡°Ah¡­ maybe I shouldn¡¯t have asked?¡± The mood changed. Everyone waited with bated breaths, watching intently to see what would happen next. I was afraid of doing something and raising suspicion, so I couldn¡¯t even glance over at Michiru. I wondered what kind of expression she was making right now. Did she look disgusted? I imagined that my lifespan would decrease if I dwelled on that possibility too much. It was like lying on a bed of nails. I felt noticeably conspicuous, as if I was some sort of suspect. ¡°We¡¯re not.¡± Michiru answered brightly in an easy tone. Drop it, she was clearly saying. ¡°You don¡¯t have to hide it.¡± ¡°We won¡¯t look at you differently.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah!¡± Fukayasu-san, Sasaki-san, and Miki-san spoke consecutively. However. ¡°We¡¯re just friends. Look, Ayaka looks distressed, so let¡¯s just stop this conversation.¡± Michiru fired back with a reply that deserved full marks. The recesses of my heart stung. Even though nothing about this conversation should¡¯ve felt hurtful. That was irrefutable evidence that I¡¯d been hoping for something. This feeling that I¡¯d just been betrayed must¡¯ve been because I¡¯d been hoping for something. Being suspected was nothing new. And Michiru denying those accusations was also a common occurrence. But this time, I had felt unusually unhappy. I was was filled with a sense of displeasure, resembling irritation. ¡°Right, Ayaka?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± The voice that rose from my lips was so monotonous that it even surprised me. What was I to Michiru? After class. At the usual, today¡¯s clouds were heavy and dense, while the bone-chilling air smelled of rain. I planned to head back to the staff room to wait for Michiru so that we could walk home together. ¡°Go home ahead of me.¡± However, Michiru¡¯s behavior was different. In all the previous todays, she¡¯d asked me to wait for her. ¡°Why? I was going to wait for you.¡± Maybe it had something to do with Miki-san¡¯s dating comment? Was she dwelling on that lunch incident, and thus distancing herself from me? A brief stretch of silence followed. ¡°I have a feeling this might take while.¡± ¡°Deja vu?¡± ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± I knew those words were a lie. In the past two todays, she hadn¡¯t mentioned anything of the sort. However. ¡°Alright. Then, see you tomorrow.¡± ¡°Yeah. See ya.¡± She was hiding something, and once again, my heart stung. Everyone had one or two secrets they didn¡¯t want anyone to find out about. Everyone did. As for me¡­ I still hadn¡¯t been able to tell Michiru. About my memory, about ever-repeating days. Technically, I¡¯d told them to her, but those days hadn¡¯t been chosen. If I really wanted her to know, I could simply confess over and over until one of those days was chosen. If I wanted her to understand, I could just repeat again and again. But, I didn¡¯t. They were my secrets. So I couldn¡¯t blame her. ¡ï Two days in a row. Hamano and Miki-san. Two individuals with no common ground, yet asked the same exact question. Are you dating? I had heard Miki-san¡¯s thoughts loud and clear behind those words. Everyone knows it. Michiru probably heard those thoughts as well. So, Michiru distanced herself from me. Just a little. Just the tiniest amount, or so I wanted to believe. Why did Miki-san ask something like that? I had thought it was for the same reason that Hamano asked, but perhaps the truth was much more obvious. In other words, because my behavior had been different in relation to the first two todays. As I walked back home from school along the familiar path, I ruminated on all the events of today. The reason for my change in behavior was because of Hamano¡¯s question, and the reason for Hamano¡¯s question was probably due to to the way I normally behaved¡­ in other words, you reap what you sow. What did I want to become? What did I want from Michiru? I was unsure and unsteady, feeling uneasy. I had so many years of experience, yet I couldn¡¯t even answer questions as paltry as this. Michiru always made me feel inexperienced. With her, I encountered so many new emotions and thrills. I repeated, and repeated, repeating similar days again and again, aging mentally much more quickly than physically. It wouldn¡¯t be wrong to call me old. The cycle of never-improving days had drastically aged my mind. In particular, predetermined events and phenomenon like the weather and television broadcasts hardly ever changed, and their constant dull, repetition plagued me like some deadly poison. Amidst these repeating days, the only things that could change were vague, ambiguous things, like coincidences or people¡¯s whims. So if I hoped for change, I needed to create it myself. As a result of leaving the school at an earlier time than previous todays, I came across an unforeseen scene once I reached home. Was it an inevitability, or just coincidence? I couldn¡¯t know from just a single twenty-eight of October C. I heard a voice from the main house¡¯s front door. ¡°Thanks for today. It¡¯s cold today, so make sure you take care.¡± ¡°Yup!¡± Without really thinking, I hid. I concealed myself in the shadow of the front gate, concentrating intently as I eavesdropped on the conversation. Someone was talking to someone else near the front door. ¡°Having you watch over her well-being is such a relief for me, Yuu-chan.¡± ¡°No problem. Leave it to me!¡± That pompous voice was unmistakably Yuuka¡¯s. I could picture her confident expression and her chest puffed out with pride as she talked. If Yuuka was the one talking, then the other person was¡­ ¡°I¡¯m really grateful¡­ Take care.¡± ¡°Yup! See you next month!¡± Yuuka¡¯s footsteps sounded against the pavement, and a short while later, I heard the sound of the front door being closed. I heard Yuuka¡¯s even footsteps- one step, two steps, but the third never came. ¡°What was that?¡± I folded my arms, blocking her way. I stood face to face with Yuuka, who was wearing long pants and a shawl wrapped around her long cardigan. ¡°Geh! I¡¯ve been discovered!¡± She stood awkwardly, like a criminal caught red-handed, and I, the detective who caught her, exercised my authority. ¡°What were you doing in my house!¡± Yuuka was simply meeting with my mother, the rational corner of my brain answered. Nothing wrong with that. Yuuka was free to enter and leave my house whenever. I could also imagine their conversation. Yuuka had reported my behavior to my parents. Obviously. I¡¯d find it troubling if she hadn¡¯t. But while I understood all that, that everything was perfectly normal, I was angry. I think the part that irked me was that she had hidden it from me. ¡°I¡¯m only going to ask you one more time. What were you doing over there?¡± I repeated my question. Trying to sound as forceful as possible to make it seem as if she had one last chance to explain herself. However, when I approached her, Yuuka avoided my eyes, still dodging my questioning. ¡°Um¡­ nothing, really.¡± ¡°Hah?¡± I looked at Yuuka, and when I thought about her freely entering the very same house I¡¯d been banned from, my anger boiled. ¡°That¡¯s obviously a lie. You were meeting with my parents, right?¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t cheating on you though?¡± ¡°Obviously!¡± I really didn¡¯t want to be arguing this loudly out on the lawn, but I simply couldn¡¯t stand her indifferent attitude. Even the thought that my mother might overhear us didn¡¯t deter me. ¡°Explain yourself. What were you talking about?¡± ¡°Nothing important, honestly. Last night¡¯s dinner, your dreams¡­ yeah, that. Look, can we go inside first? The sun¡¯s setting, and you¡¯ll catch a cold at this rate.¡± Yuuka continued to dance around the point. Anyone could tell that she wasn¡¯t being entirely honest. ¡°I told you to explain. Did you not hear me?¡± Yuuka said nothing. I had no intention of moving until she obliged. So in response, Yuuka chose silence. Apparently, she was exercising her right to remain silent. ¡°Is it something you can¡¯t tell me?¡± More silence. I finally snapped. Well, I had been fed up since the start, but even more so now! ¡°Eh? Ah-? Aya-chan!? Where are you going?¡± I turned my back to Yuuka and walked out the gate. If she wanted to be evade me, so be it. If she wanted to trick me and lie to me, fine. If she was going to use every last drop of effort to keep me in the dark, then I¡¯d accept her commitment. I¡¯d go along with her, allowing myself to be deceived. However, if she was simply ignoring me, then that was a different story. If she was treating me like a child, not caring enough to explain, then I wasn¡¯t going to bother with her. ¡°Aya-chan, wait. C¡¯mon. I¡¯m sorry, okay?¡± Even though I¡¯d made a show of leaving the gate, I didn¡¯t actually have anywhere to go. Still, I kept walking. Glaring at my shoes, I continued to stalk forward. My back turned to Yuuka, as if I were fleeing. Past homes, apartments, flower shops and bakeries, cleaning stores, general stores, scenery of my hometown flew past me. Eventually, with nowhere to go, I found myself at the park around twenty minutes away from my home. In Konohana City, a plot of land near the high school had been transformed into a public park, with both a waterside area and a large playing field for sporting events. There were expansive, well-maintained fields, trees that provided shade, and an outer track for running. In addition, it was equipped with a gym, an indoor pool, and even a community center. I didn¡¯t have any business there today though. I settled down on one benches overlooking the playing field, trying to calm my breathing, ragged from speed-walking all this way. ¡°Hey, Aya-chan? Let¡¯s go back, okay?¡± Yuuka had followed me from home, and sat down beside me. Unlike me, she wasn¡¯t even out of breath. ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere with you.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t you cold?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± It was the last week of October, and sunset was drawing close. It was freezing. ¡°Aya-chaaan, I don¡¯t want you to catch a fever and feel miserable.¡± I almost never saw Yuuka flustered to this extent. For now, I¡¯d leave her to flounder around by herself for a while. Yuuka, changing tactics again and again, tried to placate me. First, by sweet talking. ¡°You¡¯re so cute when you¡¯re angry! I wanna kiss your pouty lips!¡± Then praise. ¡°You had a test last week, right? And you got full marks, right? You¡¯re not just cute, you¡¯re also so smart!¡± She tried to reel me in with material goods. ¡°I should reward you! Wanna go shopping this weekend? I¡¯ll buy you anything.¡± Here was a model example of a useless adult who couldn¡¯t take a firm stance against her child. It was pitiful. I thought about the fact that my current life and well-being relied upon this woman in front of me. It was so pitiful I wanted to disappear. Why was I reliant on someone like her¡­ ¡°A mountain!¡± ¡°A-a mountain!?¡± ¡°Buy me a mountain! Like one of those plateaus in Hokkaido or Kyuushuu, with pastures that stretches as far as the eye can see!¡± ¡°Pastures!?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll buy me anything, right? Buy me a relaxing life on a pasture!¡± ¡°That¡¯s, really¡­¡± Yuuka was completely flabberghasted by my absurd demand. Realizing that I was beyond reasoning, she stood up from the bench, arched her back, and trudged off somewhere, leaving my sights. Why was I like this? I was being childish. Conduct not even befitting a high schooler. Only my body had grown, while the rest of me was like a kindergartener. I hadn¡¯t become sincere, I hadn¡¯t become an adult. I had tried to change. I thought I had changed. I had believed that the encounter in the spring had changed me. I¡¯d believed it until seconds ago. That frozen time had thawed, and that I¡¯d finally grown. I was wrong. I was too naive. People didn¡¯t change that easily. Even for humans, creatures filled with potential, change was difficult. So for an aged witch like me, it was nigh impossible. I remembered the taste of reality¡¯s cruelty, what they called ¡®hardship.¡¯ Perhaps nothing had changed, ever since that time I had refused to compromise with reality. Just by thinking about it, I found myself staring at decades of resignation. Give up on everything, it whispered. If you don¡¯t expect anything, you¡¯ll never be hurt again. Sweet, alluring words. ¡°Oh, Aya-chan?¡± I looked up, only to find that Yuuka had returned, a carefree smile dancing across her lips. ¡°H-here, I bought you a steamed pork bun. Eat it while it¡¯s still hot.¡± The pork bun was still steaming hot. It was bigger than the palm of my hand and looked tender, warm, and so irresistibly delicious that I felt myself drooling. It was the poison that dissolved my hardened heart. ¡°A-ah¡­¡± ¡°Aw, come on now. A young girl like you shouldn¡¯t cry in public.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not crying.¡± Here I was, no different than a bratty child, yet she had patiently endured my tantrum and continued to care for me. I¡¯d hurt her, troubled her, stubbornly refused to concede even a single inch, acting in a way completely unbefitting of someone my age, but Yuuka had readily accompanied me all this way without complaint. So perhaps this time, I should get off my high horse and try to reach an agreement with her. As I began to reconsider my actions, Yuuka opened her mouth. ¡°I like it when you resist. It makes me want to ravage you even more.¡± I take back everything. She was truly awful. ¡°Let go. Don¡¯t touch me.¡± And that¡¯s how I ran away from home. Where was I headed? There was only one place to go. ¡î Michiru¡¯s house was three stops away from the train station near Konohana High School. There was a big fuss. ¡°I¡¯m home! Did I hear correctly that my Michiru brought a friend over?¡± ¡°Alright dad, I get it already.¡± Was it really that out of the ordinary? Michiru was friendly with everyone, so I wouldn¡¯t have been surprised if she had friends over all the time. But, I recalled her telling me during the rainy season. That all the way up to middle school, she¡¯d been a rather gloomy, reserved child. Though looking at her now, I couldn¡¯t imagine that. ¡°My Michiru has grown up!¡± After running away from home, and shaking off Yuuka, I only had one place left to turn. Cheerful laughter rang throughout the neat kitchen which doubled as a dining room and the connected living room. As expected of Michiru¡¯s parents. It our first meeting, but they didn¡¯t hold back. Their home was completely different from my cramped room. The kitchen island glistened and the high cabinets were stocked full with bowls and plates. The refrigerator was huge too. Unused to the lavishishness, I meekly let myself be guided towards a soft, fluffy sofa. A-anyhow, I had to thank them for their hospitality¡­ ¡°You¡¯re that Ayaka-chan, right?¡± ¡°T-thank-¡° ¡°You know, Mi-chan always talks about you nonstop all the time.¡± ¡°Oi, you two!¡± As I began to talk with her parents, Michiru burst out, flustered. ¡°Michiru can be quite frivolous at times. I hope she isn¡¯t causing you any trouble, Ayaka-chan.¡± ¡°Tha-¡° ¡°We really appreciate you being friends with Mi-chan.¡± Thank you for your hospitality. Those words felt so out of reach. I will say that I never felt shy or afraid no matter who I was talking to. It was just that the thought of talking to Michiru¡¯s parents made me uncharacteristically cautious. Besides, both her parents talked so quickly that I barely had time to squeeze in a ¡®yes¡¯ or ¡®I see¡¯ between their comments. ¡°My parents are a little strange. Don¡¯t mind them.¡± ¡°¡­¡± A little? ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re staying overnight? I don¡¯t mind, but don¡¯t you have school tomorrow?¡± Michiru¡¯s father asked. ¡°It should be fine. I¡¯ll stop by my house tommorow morning.¡± ¡°That works!¡± Michiru¡¯s father nodded enthusiastically. Once, then again as if he understood even more, then a third time. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll go make dinner.¡± Michiru¡¯s mother waved and headed towards the kitchen. I quickly got up and followed her. At the very least, I wanted to help. Also, a small part of me admittedly wanted to try cooking in this kitchen. Just a tiny bit. ¡°What do you want to eat, Ayaka-chan? Oh, I know, I¡¯ll make sushi!¡± ¡°Um, excuse me¡­¡± ¡°Hm?¡± Her sparkling eyes waited for my next words. ¡°Thank you for everything. Especially after I suddenly barged in without warning.¡± ¡°No problem at all! You¡¯re Mi-chan¡¯s precious friend, which means you¡¯re precious to us as well.¡± I was taken aback by how earnest her response was. Her father, who bluntly said whatever was on his mind, and her mother, who treated me with such kindness and warmth. Michiru truly embodied the two of them. A daughter raised by both parents. Currently, that daughter was standing a little to the side at a loss, her mouth half open as if she wanted to protest against what her parents were saying. Michiru had a good family. I felt a twinge of jealously. I borrowed their bath, bought a pair of underwear from the convenience store, and Michiru lended me pajamas. It was probably due to the shampoo and fabric softener, but I became distinctly aware of the fact that my whole body smelled like Michiru. For some incomprehensible reason, I found my heart racing. Michiru¡¯s room on the second floor was crammed with her belongings. There was a foldable table, a bed, and a futon had been spread out for me to sleep in tonight. She had a ton of girlish accessories, as well as furniture, curtains, and cutely colored objects. It was a direct contrast to my room, a monotonous, bleak hovel which surpassed the meaning of ¡®plain.¡¯ As I gazed at the aroma candle atop the table, I decided to venture a question. ¡°So, your mother calls you Mi-chan?¡± ¡°Ever since I was little. My grandmother and uncles and aunts too. I don¡¯t get why they refuse to drop that name.¡± Having just come from the bath, Michiru¡¯s hair was down, and her pretty skin particularly stood out, almost seeming to glow. She sat down on the bed, hugging a cushion to her stomach, her cheeks blushing in embarrassment as she explained. ¡°Probably because it¡¯s cute,¡± I commented. I took a seat in front of the table, facing Michiru. ¡°That¡¯s not the point! At this rate, I¡¯ll still be Mi-chan when I turn into an old lady!¡± ¡°That won¡¯t happen for decades. No point in worrying about it now.¡± ¡°Hmm, I guess so. But it¡¯ll happen eventually.¡± Michiru sounded convinced, but I wasn¡¯t so sure. It¡¯ll happen eventually. Michiru wasn¡¯t wrong, but I couldn¡¯t begin to imagine what Michiru and I would look like in the distant future. Given that I thoroughly remembered everything from the day I was born, this much I knew. I knew what the passage of time could do. When each minute seemed to stretch for eternity, when tomorrow wouldn¡¯t arrive even as the poison of tedium pervaded one¡¯s entire body- I knew that cruelty well. ¡°Can I call you Mi-chan too?¡± ¡°Never!¡± I said it as a joke, but to my surprise, her refusal was adamant. ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± ¡°¡­If you¡¯re asking me that, would you let me call you Aya-chan?¡± Ah. That was¡­ I instantly understood. I hated Aya-chan. It reminded me too much of that woman. Besides, I liked how we were currently. How I called her Michiru, and she Ayaka. ¡°Fair enough. I understand. I¡¯ll stop it now.¡± ¡°Appreciate it.¡± A satisfied smile crept up Michiru¡¯s face. ¡°Ayaka, you¡¯re so meek. You don¡¯t have to be so nervous around my parents, you know.¡± ¡°Of course I¡¯m going to be polite.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fiiine. My parents love you.¡± ¡°It seems like you¡¯ve been talking about me behind my back.¡± In a good way, of course. I wondered what she¡¯d told them. I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t curious, but she obviously wasn¡¯t saying anything negative. I¡¯d never felt so welcome anywhere else. Especially not after suddenly entering unannounced. Most of the time, I was shunned as opposed to welcomed, so a large part of me felt bewildered at the current situation. ¡°Michiru, you¡¯re pretty used to this sort of stuff, right?¡± ¡°What, sleepovers?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± But I was well aware that it was my ability which had led to me being shunned. ¡°It¡¯s my first time. Inviting someone over for a sleepover.¡± I averted myself from the memories of a day that hadn¡¯t been chosen, and pretended to not know. ¡°Oh¡­ really? That¡¯s surprising.¡± ¡°Yeah. ¡­Um, up to middle school, I was a little different from how I am now.¡± ¡°You were?¡± ¡°Yeah. Compared to now, I think, I was a little gloomier.¡± On that rainy season day which hadn¡¯t been chosen, she had confessed this very story, which I was now hearing again. I listened to her speak about what I already knew. It wasn¡¯t strange. I experienced events from an unchosen past on a daily basis. Like the second showing of a play, our present words melded with a forgotten day from the past. ¡°There¡¯s no way.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because I changed when I entered high school.¡± ¡°Was it because you entered high school?¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s a bit different, I guess.¡± Though some words and phrases were slightly changed, the overall feeling was exactly the same. ¡°It was because I came to know what the afternoon weather would be.¡± Michiru was admirable. She continued to speak about her personal experience, believing that I wanted to know. Meanwhile, I sincerely wanted to support her. ¡°Just thinking about the fact that you alone know something that no one else knows- it¡¯s like you¡¯re invincible, right?¡± I repeated the words that her former self had once said. Michiru was dumbstruck. ¡°Yes! That! That¡¯s exactly what I wanted to say!¡± I couldn¡¯t endure it for another second. It was like doing well on a test by cheating. What I was doing right now was no different than intruding into Michiru¡¯s mind. Which, more or less, wasn¡¯t too different from what I normally did, but now that Michiru was the target, my heart wrenched in pain. I knew at once that my conscience was crying out. ¡°So that¡¯s why you called out to me?¡± ¡°¡­No, I think that was for a different reason.¡± Her momentary hesitation must¡¯ve been to sort out her complicated emotions. ¡°I just felt like I had to do it.¡± Just as on that former, rainy day, her words carried the same inflection, her eyes bowed downwards in exactly the same manner, without a shred of self-confidence. ¡°The instant I saw your face, I just felt like I had to call out and become friends with you.¡± ¡°I see.¡± No wonder it felt strange. I didn¡¯t want to be a romanticist, nor would I ever say out loud that our first meeting had been a result of fate, but at the same time, I didn¡¯t hate that idea either. Even if our meeting had truly been fated, thereby proving the existence of fate, I didn¡¯t mind. For a short while, our conversation came to a pause, and a stillness settled throughout the room. Outside, past the curtains and windows, the sky was pitch black, with only the sounds of crickets breaking the silence. It was a comfortable quiet. I wanted to abandon myself in that comfort forever, but we didn¡¯t have that much time. Not yet. I walked over and sat down beside Michiru. ¡°Sorry for barging in all of a sudden today,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯s totally fine.¡± ¡°Are you going to ask me about what happened?¡± ¡°Only if you want to talk about it.¡± The tenderness of Michiru¡¯s voice made my back tingle. I was overwhelmed with gratitude, delight, emotions too large to comprehend, and I couldn¡¯t look at her straight. ¡°Am I causing trouble for you?¡± ¡°No, I was just surprised when you arrived so abruptly, that¡¯s all.¡± ¡°Sorry about that¡­¡± In a forced motion, Michiru drew her body towards me. And in the most Michiru-esque way possible, spoke her next words so sincerely and straight-forwardly without a trace of jest. ¡°Besides, I don¡¯t mind it when you cause trouble for me, Ayaka.¡± ¡°Thanks, Michiru¡­¡± In response, I leaned towards her as well. In the cold autumn night, we shared each other¡¯s warmth. Now was the time for me to confess. About my memories. About how each day repeated. Now was the time to talk. However. ¡°I promise I¡¯ll find a way to return your kindness.¡± I couldn¡¯t say it. ¡°Hehe, so you¡¯re the type of person to make those kinds of promises.¡± Because I was scared. I was scared of being scorned. I was scared that the innocently laughing girl from yesterday would grow to fear me. After all, I knew things about people that they themselves didn¡¯t even know. Who wouldn¡¯t be disgusted by someone like that? ¡°What do you mean?¡± I never forget the tiniest details. I knew what would happen each day. Like anyone else, Michiru must have things she didn¡¯t want others to know, or things she was hiding. If she learned my secret, would she fear that I might expose them in one of these ever-repeating days? ¡°You¡¯re like one of those rival characters, Ayaka-kun.¡± ¡°Really? I thought you we were accomplices.¡± Because I could never forget. I couldn¡¯t forget no matter how much the others around me wanted me to forget. Because this world repeats. There was always the looming possibility that I might bring up secrets that people had never divulged. Such tragic accidents, histories that should have disappeared, my memories would carry all of that into eternity. ¡°You¡¯re right! We¡¯re best friends!¡± she declared brightly, without a trace of suspicion. Michiru trusted me from the bottom of her heart. What else was I to do but return a half-hearted chuckle? ¡°We¡¯re best friends, Ayaka! So even if I hadn¡¯t told you today, I would¡¯ve told you eventually.¡± Our sleepover was one of the best experiences of my life. When I saw Michiru having so much fun, I could even forget the passage of time, and focus on our time together. Not to mention the fact that I was spending time alone with her at her house. Michiru let me try her handcreams that she liked, and of course we talked extensively, we laughed, and spent our time together in bliss. I wanted to have daily sleepovers if I could spend each day like this. Maybe next time, I could invite Michiru to my house¡­ The only reason I could think like that was because the clock hadn¡¯t ticked 12:00am yet. ¡°We¡¯d better sleep now¡­¡± ¡°Ehh, it¡¯s only ten though?¡± Michiru protested. In just a short while, I would be assaulted by the usual unbearable urge to sleep. I had never been successful in staying awake, regardless of how much I napped during the day, or how much coffee I drank at night. ¡°Unlike you, I¡¯m not a night owl,¡± I reminded her. ¡°¡­true. ¡­I guess you¡¯re right,¡± Michiru said reluctantly. I want to keep talking, keep playing, keep touching each other, her forlorn expression seemed to say. ¡°Then, how about we sleep together?¡± Michiru asked. ¡°Sure¡­ sure?¡± ¡°Yay!¡± Just now¡­ what just¡­? Sleep together? As in, together in the same futon, next to each other, my heart pounding, all the way to morning while we- there was no way I would be able to sleep in that situation. Though admittedly, that might be a way that I could stay awake past 12:00am, so maybe it wasn¡¯t such a bad idea- no wait, what was I thinking? It was way too premature for us to be doing this sort of stuff. Way too premature. ¡°W-wait a sec. Sorry, I wasn¡¯t paying attention. Did you say sleep¡­ together? Like, sleep side by side?¡± A nod. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said as-a-matter-of-factly as if it were no big deal. ¡°Though the bed might be a little small for the two of us,¡± she said. In the exact same tone. ¡°¡­no thanks.¡± ¡°Why!?¡± Our bodies had been pressed together for the entire night. I could sense even her smallest movement, taste the scent of her breath, feel her warmth. I¡¯d definitely go crazy. When I imagined waking and seeing her sleeping face, my heart jumped uncontrollably. ¡°I don¡¯t mind sleeping on the floor. Look, the futon¡¯s really fluffy.¡± ¡°Ayaka doesn¡¯t want to sleep with me.¡± I found my resolution crumbling at Michiru¡¯s adorable pouting, but I couldn¡¯t let myself be swayed. ¡°T-that¡¯s not true¡­¡± ¡°Really? Will you let me hold your hand?¡± ¡°What for?¡± ¡°When you lie, you always squeeze your hands.¡± I couldn¡¯t exactly refuse her request. I gently extended my hand, our fingers probing for each other, and once again, for some incomprehensible reason, my heart raced. But I could only compromise this much. Sleeping together was too much to ask. We hadn¡¯t even explicitly stated what our relationship was. I didn¡¯t know what we thought of each other. So sleeping together in the same futon, for the entire night, was¡­ s-s-shameless! ¡°I don¡¯t want to sleep.¡± ¡°Ahaha, I figured. You were lying, weren¡¯t you,¡± Michiru proclaimed, satisfied. ¡°I-I¡­¡± I stammered. ¡°Ayaka, your face is bright red.¡± With her free hand, Michiru touched my forehead, checking for a fever. I couldn¡¯t suppress my happiness- she¡¯d asked to sleep together, even going so far as to concern herself with my health. But, her face was extremely close. My face grew hotter, spots danced in my vision, and the clock was ticking down to midnight. ¡°Ayaka?¡± All at once, everything seemed so far away. Strength left my body. My eyelids grew heavier, and heavier and heavier, until I couldn¡¯t keep them open. The world faded to black. I collapsed into her arms. ¡°Did you fall asleep?¡± A tiny sound escaped my lips. I tasted a delicious fragrance. It was sweet, fresh, comforting. It was soft and warm. It belonged to someone who accepted my everything, who affirmed my existence, who supported me. In my dimmed consciousness, I was vaguely aware of Michiru moving my barely functioning body, spreading a blanket over me. The world moved increasingly further away. I didn¡¯t have the will to resist. But I wanted this moment to last, even for just one more second. I wanted to preserve this time into my memory forever. ¡°¡­Good night, Ayaka.¡± A hand brushed away the hair from my forehead. Her arm moved past my eyelids, briefly blocking out the light, then the light returned, then it was dark again. That was my last memory of the twenty-eighth of October C. Ahh, I never wanted to leave this place. I wanted to be together, forever¡­ -I didn¡¯t want to leave and revisit that dream again. The Twenty-Eight of October D This day proceeded in much the same was as the twenty-eight of October A. I waited for Michiru to return from the staff room, standing in the cold corridor. ¡°Sorry for making you wait.¡± ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡± I greeted her with the same expression as last time. ¡°I somehow managed to avoid getting remedial lessons!¡± I chose my words carefully, paying attention to my tone and gestures, replicating the first twenty-eight of October. Repeating the past was fine. It was easy. All I had to do was reenact the scenes from memory. However, it didn¡¯t go as planned. ¡°Hey, Ayaka.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°Since tests are over now¡­¡± Removing my shoes from the shoerack, I glanced over at Michiru, uncharacteristically stumbling over her words. ¡°You didn¡¯t get the most ideal scores though,¡± I joked. ¡°Ah¡­ Um, s-setting that aside, um¡­¡± Her eyes darted back and forth, and her cheeks tinged with a slight pink, until she finally seemed to gather her resolution and stand up straight. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind. Want to have a sleepover?¡± ¡°A-a sleepover?¡± The conversation changed. Words that hadn¡¯t been spoken a single time in the past three days suddenly flew forth. ¡°Yeah¡­ do you not want to?¡± ¡°Not at all, but¡­ on a weekday?¡± ¡°Ahah, I guess not now.¡± I stared closely at Michiru¡¯s innocently smiling face, who outwardly appeared to be relieved. Did she remember? Yesterday¡­ ¡°How about this weekend?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± At any rate, I didn¡¯t have plans this weekend. ¡°Woohoo! It¡¯s a promise!¡± Michiru exclaimed, her voice echoing through the hallway. Had the outcome of one day influenced another? That couldn¡¯t be possible. I hadn¡¯t experienced such an occurrence in all my seventy-five years of living. I could say that with absolute certainty. So even if Michiru¡¯s sleepover suggestion might have appeared to be influenced by yesterday, that couldn¡¯t be anything more than a coincidence. The Twenty-Ninth of October A I opened my eyes first thing in the morning. The color of the ceiling was different. So were the curtains. I fumbled around my sleepy thoughts, trying to locate the source of this irregularity. The weight of the futon, the smell of the room, the quiet breathing of someone sleeping that I heard, were all different. As if I¡¯d become someone else. Ah, that¡¯s right. The twenty-eight of October C had been chosen. The day of the sleepover. The best day had been chosen. At the same time, I remembered that I was a human who couldn¡¯t forget anything, and went by the name of Aizawa Ayaka. Our promise had become no more¡­ Her voice still lingered in my ears. Her request to hold hands, the conversation with Hamano, everything that had become no more. It was fine. I was accustomed to it. Besides, they¡¯d all been exchanged for the very best day, so I wasn¡¯t in any position to complain. Straining my ears, I could clearly make out her gentle, quiet breaths. The twenty-eight of October C, the day that had ended up in a sleepover after I¡¯d barged into Michiru¡¯s house, had been chosen. It was time to live out the continuation of the yesterday I¡¯d been granted. Michiru¡¯s mother saw us off at the entrance as we left for school. I didn¡¯t know how I should thank her properly for everything she¡¯d done. I really appreciate you letting me stay over? Had Michiru been in my position, she might¡¯ve said something like that. Instead, I went with: ¡°Um, I apologize for intruding so suddenly yesterday.¡± Negative, retrospective words unbefitting of the pleasant morning. However, Michiru¡¯s mother smiled. ¡°¡®Even a hunter won¡¯t shoot a bird that seeks his help,¡¯ as the proverb goes.¡± I certainly wasn¡¯t expecting those words. Michiru looked a little troubled. ¡°Mom, what are you saying?¡± It was a proverb meaning that one should help those fleeing danger and seeking shelter. ¡°Ayaka-chan.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°In truth, yesterday, I received a call from your house. Your family apologized for the sudden intrusion, but asked for permission for you to stay the night.¡± That was probably Yuuka. Of course. She was an adult, so she had properly laid the groundworks for everything. However, what if¡­ I had to ask. ¡°Um¡­ do you know who called?¡± ¡°It was your mother.¡± I figured. Yuuka had contacted my mother, and my mother contacted Michiru¡¯s mother. They were adults, so they did everything the proper way. Even when I stubbornly ran away from home, I was still dancing in the palms of their hands. ¡°Um, my mother¡­ did she, say anything else¡­?¡± ¡°She was really worried. Whether we were being troubled, whether you were okay- she sounded extremely anxious. The first thing she said was that she¡¯d come pick you up immediately.¡± Michiru¡¯s mother was misunderstanding the situation. She probably thought that I had a fight with my parents and fled the house. That was correct. Halfway correct. The true cruelty lay hidden in the other half. ¡°But I refused. I was excited at the prospect of having two daughters for a night.¡± Michiru¡¯s mother smiled playfully. It was like hundreds of marbles were rolling about in my chest. I wanted to stay here longer, and I wanted to go home right away. For the entire day, I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about the chosen twenty-eight of October. Hamano¡¯s Are you lovers? question had hurdled into the next day, becoming Miki-san¡¯s stimulating question of Are you two¡­ um, dating?, altering the entire day¡¯s flow. The altered flow had caused the fight between Yuuka and me, after which the sleepover had ensued. A hectic day filled to the brim. Even now, the softness of her pajamas lingered on my skin. Her sleeping breaths still clung to my ears, as if I¡¯d only just woken from her futon. I¡¯d probably been in a daze all day. I mean, we¡¯d kissed before, right? We even had a sleepover, right? Nothing happened there though. Though I¡¯d only heard about it from someone who¡¯d heard it from someone else, I had a vague impression that more was supposed to happen between close friends at a sleepover. Like a pillow fight, I guess? Or maybe that was just what happened in movies. What about love gossip? Like Michiru asking for love advice on someone she liked¡­ no no, that would be the literal end of the world. Besides, what did I really want from a sleepover? What was I to Michiru¡­? After class ended, the two of us alone remained in the classroom. I took a glance at Michiru, who had been kept back to study on account of her poor grades. I had a book in my hands, but I couldn¡¯t concentrate in the slightest. I mindlessly flipped through the pages, my eyes glazing over the pages without registering a word. That was fine though. I could go through my memories of the text at a later date. ¡°Hey, Ayaka. Have you kissed someone before?¡± What? At first, I thought she¡¯d read my mind, but I quickly realized. Michiru had been thinking the same thing as me. Michiru blushed faintly. ¡°I have.¡± I thought back to the cultural festival. The day that hadn¡¯t been chosen. The time Michiru desired to advance our relationship. The vivid memory sprang to life within my mind. And then, a few days after that, after class. When I initiated it. That day had been chosen. Had Michiru forgotten? Well, but, while I was the one who initiated it, that didn¡¯t mean that I was the only who wanted it. Michiru had technically kissed me first, even if that day hadn¡¯t been chosen, so it¡¯s not like she didn¡¯t want to do it- my thoughts kept backtracking into one another in an endless loop. ¡°How did it feel?¡± I looked up and saw Michiru¡¯s confident, honest gaze aimed straight at me. All my defenses were instantly obliterated. ¡°You were there, you know. Don¡¯t tell me you forgot?¡± ¡°No, but, a tiny part of my is doubting whether that was a dream.¡± Michiru¡¯s brazen gaze became anxious, almost apologetic for making me uneasy, and her reply was rushed and spontaneous, as if trying to make up for it. ¡°Then, why don¡¯t we confirm it? Whether it really was a dream.¡± I wasn¡¯t acting like myself. When I woke up in Michiru¡¯s room, I¡¯d been overcome with an odd sensation that I¡¯d become a different person. Perhaps I¡¯d indeed been reborn this morning¡­ ¡°Are you saying¡­¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Our eyes interlocked. Eyes so fiery that they might melt. Even though we were still in the classroom, even though neither of us had uttered the words ¡°I love you,¡± our mutual feelings lay plain to see in broad daylight. We didn¡¯t need words to communicate. ¡°You don¡¯t mind?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± Michiru¡¯s face neared. I closed my eyes. She squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, and our breaths intermingled. It had been one hundred and twenty-six days since our first kiss. Ninety days since our last kiss. The brakes had long since broken down. ¡°We¡¯re both girls though.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t make me say it.¡± A sweet fragrance beckoned to my nose. Her delicate warmth reached out across the miniscule gap between us. That gap became nothing- was about to become nothing, when a disturbance broke in. ¡°Help, Aizawa!¡± The atmosphere vanished like mist, leaving not even a trace. The intruder¡¯s breaths were ragged, gasping for air. ¡°Thank god¡­ you¡¯re still here.¡± I didn¡¯t see any particular reason why I should be thanking god right now. Having been interrupted at a good moment, my voice naturally came out stiff. ¡°What¡¯s the matter¡­?¡± ¡°I need your help, Aizawa.¡± ¡°¡­Natsume-chan?¡± Michiru, with faint tints of red still lingering on her cheeks, replied to her friend in her usual, slightly quiet voice. The intruder, Fukayasu Natsume, sounded dead serious. ¡°I need your help for theater club.¡± That was the sound of the first domino falling. I fidgeted restlessly during Fukayasu-san¡¯s entire explanation. I felt guilty for being discovered trying to kiss someone at school, and there was also a small irritation at the interruption, and a discomposure at seeing a serious Fukayasu-san who was always smiling and cheerful, and somewhere along the line, my brain stopped working properly trying to process all these emotions. I listened to Fukayasu-san¡¯s explanation in a daze. Apparently, all problems stemmed from the fact that her friend and theater club president, Koumekawa-san had broken her leg. Of course, Fukayasu-san was also part of the club. ¡°So you need me to be her replacement?¡± ¡°Ayaka, have you ever acted before?¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t.¡± Michiru had thoroughly calmed down, and I couldn¡¯t help but notice the difference in our body temperatures. She even had the time to worry about me. Not in a million years would I be up for this task, I pleaded with my eyes. Michiru noticed and covered for me. ¡°And besides, your joint-practice is this Saturday, right?¡± Michiru continued. ¡°Still!¡± Fukayasu-san interrupted in a loud voice. Her usual, composed demeanor was nowhere to be seen. ¡°I need your help. Koumekawa, she¡¯s normally an irresponsible, hopeless idiot! The one thing she¡¯s passionate about is theater!¡± Of course, Fukayasu-san couldn¡¯t allow her friend¡¯s precious play to be irreparably destroyed. ¡°So why me¡­?¡± ¡°You can do anything, right Aizawa?¡± ¡°But can¡¯t you ask someone else¡­?¡± Michiru protested. ¡°Aizawa¡¯s really smart! It¡¯s a huge role, and there¡¯s a ton of lines, so I can¡¯t rely on any random person.¡± Fukayasu-san was nearly spitting her words. Anyone could tell she was desperate. While I was somewhat exasperated by her exaggerated praise, if I refused her request, their play would shut down. Fukayasu-san clearly knew that in all probability, the play was doomed, and was frantically searching for a miracle. Ahh, but I could do it. Make a miracle happen. ¡°If there are recordings of the past stagings, I¡¯ll do it.¡± Even a hunter won¡¯t shoot a bird that seeks his help, was it? I wasn¡¯t impressed by Fukayasu¡¯s desperate plea. But if she needed my help, and it was in my power, then I should help. That¡¯s what I thought, is all. ¡°Ayaka!?¡± Michiru shrieked, astonished. Her eyes trembled with apprehension. In the past, I certainly would not have budged. Acting as a replacement for a play was both annoying and tedious, and I would have no inclination towards getting involved. It didn¡¯t affect me. Why should I die on a hill that I didn¡¯t even care about? But, I had decided to change. I had decided to stop pretending to be a loner, and deal with life¡¯s annoyances and tedium. For the time being, at least. ¡°You know it¡¯s Saturday, right? You only have two days left,¡± Michiru said. Today was Thursday, the twenty-ninth of October A. On average, I had ten days left until Saturday. At the bare minimum, I would have at least four days. There were no problems. ¡°Aizawa, I¡¯m just making sure with you. Our show is the day after tommorow. Can you make it?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m a genius.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Michiru obviously didn¡¯t want me to push myself too far. To be honest, the script alone would be quite tough already. And though I didn¡¯t forget things, I didn¡¯t often watch plays, much less have experience acting in one. I was no professional. I couldn¡¯t just read over the dialogue and stage directions and create a convincing performance. But if they had recordings of their previous stagings, that was a different matter. Copying a model was easy. To anyone watching, it¡¯d be apparent that I was doing a soulless charade, but at least I could try to look good as a substitute. ¡°I¡¯ll pull up the recordings.¡± Fukayasu-san took out her phone and began tapping the screen furiously. ¡°If you have two or three different recordings, that¡¯d be ideal.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± I didn¡¯t forget. I could not forget things I¡¯d seen or heard even a single time. I could replay my eternal memories as many times as I wanted to, comparing them to my movements and checking for any minute differences. I remembered all my mistakes, and never made the same one twice. And once I happened to do something correctly, even if my pure coincidence, I could repeat it as many times as necessary. My memories absorbed everything, so that even movements achieved through blind luck became fluid, well-practiced motions in a heartbeat. With two or three different recordings, I¡¯d mostly be able to cover everything. Because while I detested repeating the same thing again and again more than anything, that was also my greatest strength. ¡°Ayaka¡­ don¡¯t push yourself.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Michiru looked at me nervously. Sometimes, she aggressively demanded skinship out of the blue, while other times, I could keenly feel her concern for me. There seemed to be some sort of disconnect. But I didn¡¯t think it was something I needed to dwell on. The outcome wouldn¡¯t change no matter how much I thought about it. The entire situation floated high above, beyond my imagination. My daily life where nothing happened. The mundane relationship between her and me that I was so exasperated with. But, our relationship was slowly beginning to change. I didn¡¯t notice these unprecedented, fresh feelings that began to creep up in me. By this time, a curse had already began to spread, eroding the half broken world. Volume 2 - CH 2 1. The first time Fukayasu Natsume noticed her ability was on day two of midterms. She was stuck on problem 2 of the Math I exam. This was after she¡¯d spent considerable time unsuccessfully trying to solve problem 1 which she ultimately left unfinished, with no choice but to rely on partial credit. She was beginning to panic. At this rate, she¡¯d fail¡­ It was then that Fukayasu became keenly aware of the sound of her heartbeat. Its steady, rhythmic pulsations beckoned at her consciousness, inviting her to a faraway place. There, she heard a voice. (¡­Line segment BC has length 4, therefore according to the law of sines¡­) It was the voice of Yoshida, a hardworking, diligent student in the seat beside her. ¡°Shh! We¡¯re in the middle of a test,¡± Fukayasu whispered urgently. Even if Yoshida was only talking to herself, she¡¯d be disqualified in an instant for suspicion of cheating if she were heard by the test proctor. Yoshida glared at her. ¡°¡­You¡¯re the one who needs to shut up,¡± she whispered back. Fukayasu huffed internally, feeling unjustifiably attacked. Yoshida had no right to randomly lash out at her, especially not after she¡¯d gone out of her way to warn Yoshida. Discreetly, Fukayasu glanced around at the test proctor, checking for any changes in his manner to see if he¡¯d noticed. (What was that? Why the hell are you talking to me during an exam? Though I guess it¡¯s nothing out of the ordinary for Fukayasu¡­) Yoshida continued to grumble without a care in the world. Yet the test proctor paid no heed, nor did any of the students around them. Maybe only I can hear her, Fukayasu mused, then her entire body suddenly turned cold. Only I can hear her. An auditory hallucination mixed in with the sounds of mechanical pencils scratching against paper. (¡­Problem 3 done. I can use the rest of the time for problem 4.) What in the¡­ Fukayasu spent a good three seconds in shock. (This test was too easy. What was even the point of studying so late last night? I could¡¯ve slept early.) She was hearing someone¡¯s thoughts. Reading their mind. The lack of sleep must be making me go insane, Fukayasu decided. She had frantically studied well past her usual bedtime last night cramming for the test. She had gotten no more than three hours of sleep total. Fukayasu would have screamed, had she not been in the middle of an exam. She wanted to grab Miki and Saki who she usually hung out with and rattle on and cry endlessly about her current, inexplicable dilemma. But she was in the middle of an exam. A hugely important test that she couldn¡¯t afford to fail. A test which her current, inexplicable dilemma was telling her the answers to. Mind-reading was simply too convenient to pass up, especially given the circumstances now. At first, the ability was small. If she focused her entire being, she could barely make out the thoughts of a person sitting next to her. For the remainder of midterms, and after as well, Fukayasu continued to use her ability. The ability to hear someone¡¯s secretive, inner thoughts was too convenient and too useful for her to exercise self-restraint. So she practiced and developed her power, and when the test results were announced- (I didn¡¯t know she was this capable. She must¡¯ve been working really hard lately¡­) Without any real conscious effort, she was able to hear the voice of her teacher handing back the tests. As Fukayasu looked down at her test, she began to idly wonder about the full extent of her capabilities. Maybe, she thought, maybe if I could just read the mind of Aizawa Ayaka, who sits across the room from me, then I could also get a perfect score. The lone, inhuman prodigy who happened to reside in the same class as Fukayasu. The single individual who had caught the attention of everyone in the school. No one doubted that she¡¯d be accepted into whatever college she applied to. People even whispered that she would be accepted if she applied right now. Fukayasu thought back to the days leading up to spring break. A very particular, picky math teacher had reproached Aizawa for her attitude during class. It wasn¡¯t because Aizawa was disturbing class- on the contrary, she hadn¡¯t done anything at all. The teacher simply disliked the fact that she always looked sullen and bored during his lessons. ¡°Now, let¡¯s look at some practical applications. For this problem, let¡¯s see¡­ let¡¯s have Aizawa-san solve this problem. Aizawa-san, come up to the blackboard.¡± A broad, disingenuous smile was plastered across the teacher¡¯s face as he forced the problem on Aizawa without any warning at all. The entire class was sympathetic. Aizawa picked up the chalk, and for a brief moment, everyone imagined her standing awkwardly in front of the board for several seconds, not knowing the answer or even where to begin. They silently extended their condolences. However, Aizawa Ayaka didn¡¯t even as much flinch. She faced the board and began to write, the chalk scraping against the blackboard as she wrote out the answer line after line in unbelievably perfect handwriting. Her answer was flawless. The teacher and students alike were stunned into silence, their mouths dangling open. When she finished writing, Aizawa turned only her head, looking straight at the teacher. She didn¡¯t say a thing, but there was no need. Her gaze alone broadcasted her message loud and clear. Anything else I have to do? ¡°That will be all. Wonderful job.¡± If Aizawa was proud of her answer, she didn¡¯t show it. She barely acknowledged the teacher, despite being called out without any provocation, and returned to to her seat wordlessly. Everyone watched her in complete shock. That was the day that the entire world became aware of Aizawa Ayaka¡¯s incredible offensive power. She was harmless when left alone. But she would strike back hard and fast when provoked. Even fate would not save you if you made an enemy of her. During the period before the rainy season, the class reached a collective consensus. Let sleeping gods lie. Dare not to touch her. Challenging her, or talking behind her back, was out of the question. Even looking at her the wrong way was forbidden. Inaba was the only exception! So after idly daydreaming about achieving a perfect score on midterms by reading the mind of Aizawa Ayaka, sitting a little aways from her, Fukayasu snapped back to reality. There was no point in a full score if she didn¡¯t achieve it herself. In fact, it might even prove detrimental. Hence, Fukayasu, while ecstatic that she hadn¡¯t scored below average in any subjects, was equal parts uneasy. And next time, even if she got a full score, she wouldn¡¯t feel nearly as ecstatic, but would most certainly feel ten times as uneasy. She never imagined that a trivial stroke of luck could make her feel so happy. But at the same time, a small part of her was delighted. By nature, Fukayasu was a cautious person. By some bizarre twist of fate, she gained the ability to hear others¡¯ inner voices. She wasn¡¯t so naive as to believe that she was in the only one in the world like that. If it had happened to her, then she couldn¡¯t rule out the possibility that other people also possessed similar superpowers. That hypothesis came with problems of its own. Compared to the previous quiz, her test score had substantially improved this time around. As a result, she was rather excited about the parent-child-teacher conference in two weeks¡¯ time. But what if one of the teachers there could read minds? If Fukayasu even thought about her ability, she¡¯d be found out. All in all, she was a pretty smart high-school girl. It was during wednesday lunch break on the eighteenth of October. The classroom was filled with a noisy, chaotic chatter. Fukayasu was one of the contributors to that chatter. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, if you wanna get likes, you have to like other people¡¯s posts too. Just like everything you can. And do daily posts. But you can¡¯t just post anything. No one cares about your average daily life.¡± Fukayasu was explaining how to get popular on social media, while Miki and Saki bent over backwards exaggeratedly and sighed loudly. ¡°That sounds so haaard-¡° ¡°What am I supposed to take pictures of then?¡± There¡¯s a lot of options, Fukayasu said, hiding her exasperation beneath a sweet, thin smile. ¡°Food is always fine. You always eat a ton every day, right?¡± (What a pain¡­) Their blunt, inner thoughts were plainly audible to Fukayasu, despite her sound reasoning. There was a multitude of options in just a single day- meals you ate, the sweets you bought at the bakery, makeup, your hairstyle, the list went on and on. You just had to pick a single one. And if Miki and Saki weren¡¯t willing to put in even the smallest amount of effort, they only had themselves to blame. In stark contrast, famous influencers always put in extra effort, constantly looking for ways to innovate. ¡°I don¡¯t eat a ton!¡± ¡°Then, how do you explain the fat on your arms?¡± The trio of high school girls burst into laughter. These moments where she could spend time with her friends and forget about everything else were precious to Fukayasu. Because of that, she even occasionally found herself looking forward to school. (I wanna get popular while having fun) (I want everyone to adore me) Neither of the two could fathom what social media was. They couldn¡¯t imagine how your happiness and sadness could be intertwined with the amount of likes you received, or how you inevitably began to measure your worth as a human being based on your follower count. The two were so blissfully unaware that it made Fukayasu jealous. At that point during the conversation, Inaba, with a smile so pure that no one who saw it could possibly dislike her, approached their table, bringing along Aizawa Ayaka. Or so it might have appeared at first glance, but it was strikingly obvious that those two were a set. ¡°Heyo!¡± ¡°I feel like I always see you two together,¡± Fukayasu gave a broad smile. She was particularly interested in these two. ¡°Intimacy is a beautiful thing, isn¡¯t it,¡± Miki said, her lips curling into a small smile. Miki hummed in agreement. However, their inner thoughts were entirely different. (Aizawa-chan looks likes she¡¯s struggling) (I wish she wouldn¡¯t force herself) Naturally, as Aizawa couldn¡¯t read minds, she was oblivious to all of it. ¡°I guess.¡± (¡­Am I smiling properly?) It was adorable how Aizawa worked herself up over nothing. Fukayasu didn¡¯t dislike her. On the contrary, she¡¯d thought that Aizawa¡¯s cold attitude towards others was remarkably striking, in every positive sense of the word. And after gaining the ability to read minds, Fukayasu was constantly surprised by the clarity of her thoughts. ¡°Aizawa, you look happy.¡± ¡°You¡¯re too good at reading me.¡± Inaba sat down, and Aizawa followed her example. What are you, her wife? Fukayasu wanted to joke. But she could already imagine them pitifully blushing in embarrassment, so she refrained from saying it out loud. ¡°Heh heh heh, don¡¯t pretend. Midterms, right?¡± ¡°Ah¡­¡± ¡°What kinda brain you got in that head?¡± ¡°The test was just too easy.¡± I feel like I¡¯m watching a cheap comedy skit, Fukayasu thought dubiously, but still laughed loudly anyway. Mostly because Saki and Miki laughed first. Meanwhile, Aizawa wasn¡¯t happy in the slightest about her reputation, or the whispers floating through the school about her perfect score. With a cold look, she sat down, her thoughts detached from the conversation. (The teacher hates me, so at the very least, I have to do well on tests¡­) Fukayasu sympathized with her. Aizawa¡¯s self evaluation was on point. Despite her apparent reluctance to make friends and being shunned by society, she seemed acutely aware of her social standing as well as those around her. Fukayasu didn¡¯t dislike smart people. ¡°Jeez. Was it Yano-chan from the class next door who was shouting out the window?¡± Fukayasu smiled. The so called How-Why Incident. Last monday during lunch break, Yano-san from the other class began shouting out the window as loudly as possible. ¡°How! Why!¡± Aizawa smiled back. ¡°Poor girl.¡± Inside, (It¡¯s not my fault. I have nothing to do with her inability to score perfectly. If I was still a witch, then I wouldn¡¯t care if she blamed everything on me, but I quit being a witch, so I really would prefer if she didn¡¯t blame me anymore), she defended herself. Aizawa Ayaka¡¯s heart was like an open book. The only part she didn¡¯t understand was the ¡®witch,¡¯ but she probably just misheard. ¡°But still, I did super good this time. I didn¡¯t just not fail, I got average!¡± ¡°That¡¯s not exactly something to be proud of?¡± ¡°It is!¡± Fukayasu said, parrying Saki¡¯s interruption. ¡°¡®Cause we got to talk to Aizawa-san as a result!¡± ¡°We are blessed. We are blessed.¡± (Oh Lord Aizawa, please bless us with good grades next test~!) Saki and Miki clapped their hands together, praying. Aizawa, the subject of their prayers, looked exceedingly uncomfortable. Meanwhile, Inaba was oblivious to her struggles, grinning broadly upon hearing her partner being praised. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect any less!¡± Her innocent grin was a tad too oblivious for Fukayasu¡¯s taste. ¡°You should study harder though,¡± she chided. ¡°But cramming all night is bad for my skin!¡± Fukayasu felt the urge to press. ¡°Then study regularly¡­ although I guess that¡¯s not something I can say. But speaking of skin, the super-goddess-prodigy Aizawa¡¯s skin is super pretty¡­ what time do you sleep?¡± Her question had unexpected repercussions. (Are we lovers? -I wonder. How do others see us?) Fukayasu had no idea how that thought was connected to her question, but evidently, someone had asked Aizawa about her relationship with Michiru. That much, Fukayasu could gather based off the fragments of Aizawa¡¯s thoughts. Fukayasu understood the sentiment. No matter how you looked at it, those two had to be dating. Aizawa paused, saying nothing. Somehow, Fukayasu¡¯s question had rendered Aizawa Ayaka speechless. (Ah, crap¡­ I have to answer now. But, should I reply honestly? If I tell them I sleep at 10pm¡­ no, I definitely can¡¯t say that. They¡¯ll be suspicious of the fact that I don¡¯t study. If I lie¡­ that won¡¯t work either. They might think of me as a nocturnal monster with perfect skin.) Beneath Aizawa¡¯s expressionless features was a flood of flustered panic. As the conversation came to a brief pause, Inaba Michiru answered for Aizawa with fully good intentions. ¡°Ayaka sleeps at ten. That¡¯s the secret to perfect skin,¡± Michiru said. ¡°Wha-¡° Aizawa was on the verge of curling up into a ball. Her careful deliberations had all been ruined in an instant, and Inaba, the ruiner of her deliberations, was innocently rubbing Aizawa¡¯s cheeks, cheerfully chanting ¡®smooth skin! smooth skin!¡¯ ¡°You¡¯re not serious-¡± Fukayasu was taken aback. She had accepted the fact that Aizawa was an unrivaled prodigy, but still. Ten? ¡°Sleeping at ten isn¡¯t that abnormal, is it?¡± Aizawa interjected. ¡°It¡¯s extremely abnormal. It¡¯s a waste of precious time.¡± ¡°But you have amazing test scores¡­ that¡¯s so unfair¡­¡± Fukayasu didn¡¯t even have time to process Miki and Saki¡¯s complaints. She was too focused on Inaba and Aizawa, who, by all measures, were going overboard. I knew they were on good terms, but to this extent? Maybe they really were dating¡­? She needed to verify it from them directly. ¡°So soft¡­ I wanna keep touching forever.¡± ¡°Hey¡­? Michiru?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Everyone¡¯s watching, so¡­ can you save that for when we¡¯re alone?¡± ¡°Ah, you¡¯re right. Sorry!¡± Fukayasu was getting secondhand embarrassment watching them openly flirt. Get a room. ¡°Are you two¡­ um, dating?¡± Miki, unable to contain herself, was the first to interrupt, facing the two head on. Finally, the question was out in the open. (I said it!!!!!!! I said the forbidden words!!) Miki screamed. (Uhm, how should I answer¡­ I wonder what Ayaka thinks.) Saki was visibly agitated. Meanwhile, Inaba maintained a neutral expression, already in the process of searching for a way to salvage the conversation. Even in this situation, she still manages to keep her cool, Fukayasu thought, impressed. Inaba was second to none when it came to social interactions. Her partner Aizawa however, was a different story. (D-da-da¡­t-ting¡­) She paled. ¡°We¡¯re not.¡± Inaba replied cheerfully without a moment¡¯s delay. Trying to forcefully steer the conversation towards a different direction, no doubt. ¡°You don¡¯t have to hide it.¡± ¡°We won¡¯t look at you differently.¡± However, Miki continued to pursue the question aggressively, and Saki followed suit. ¡°We¡¯re just friends. Look, Ayaka looks distressed, so let¡¯s just stop this conversation.¡± Inaba denied them profusely. (Huh¡­?) At that moment, she felt a small hole form inside Aizawa¡¯s heart. Her pain was distinctly transmitted to Fukayasu. Unrequited love- an emotion that Fukayasu had never experienced before, but if it hurt this much, then Fukayasu never wanted to fall in love. She was feeling Aizawa¡¯s pain, and it made her want to flee to a deserted place where no one else could see or hear her, and writhe and twist and scream out in pain. It stung her, burned her, tormented her. Taking pity on Aizawa, Fukayasu decided to throw her a lifeboat. But Inaba spoke first. ¡°Right, Ayaka?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Utterly oblivious to the end, Inaba forced Aizawa to confirm, promptly delivering the deathblow. Her heart having been violently gouged out, Aizawa¡¯s expressionless face was on the verge of tears, a sight so pitiful that Fukayasu couldn¡¯t bear to watch. 2. It Tuesday during lunch break. Fukayasu was in the gymnasium. In front of her was a single female student. She was sitting on the edge of the stage facing the gymnasium, thoroughly engrossed in her phone which she held sideways. She was Komekawa Shiron, the president of the drama club. ¡°Hey, Shiron.¡± ¡°Oh, Natsume? What¡¯s up?¡± She was someone that Fukayasu could call a close friend. They were one year apart, and ever since they¡¯d met in preschool, they¡¯d been together ever since, throughout elementary school, middle school, and now high school. ¡°What are you doing over there?¡± ¡°I want to learn this stage down to my cellular level. So I¡¯m spending as much time here as I can.¡± Fukayasu hoisted herself onto the stage, taking a seat beside Shiron. She was watching a video of a performance from another school¡¯s culture festival. Even Fukayasu, with her untrained eyes, could tell that the performance was spectacular. The actors¡¯ words sounded from the phone¡¯s speakers. Occasionally, the audience stirred, sometimes with screams, sometimes with laughter, so loud that the audio clipped. ¡°The culture festival was quite the disaster, wasn¡¯t it.¡± ¡°Finally someone says it the way it is¡­¡± A part of Shiron¡¯s composed features contorted, revealing her true thoughts. Don¡¯t pursue the topic any further, her expression said. The drama club¡¯s performance at the culture festival, which had taken place on this very stage, had ended in utter tragedy. ¡°No one in the club cares. Every one of them thinks that enjoying the process is more important than the result.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re not satisfied?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true at all. If we had fun, then that¡¯s what matters.¡± Shiron¡¯s tone came out dark and emotionless. Before Fukayasu could wonder about Shiron, she noticed that something didn¡¯t feel right. She couldn¡¯t hear Shiron¡¯s thoughts. That was why she¡¯d come to see Shiron in the first place. In most situations, Fukayasu could generally guess what Shiron was thinking. In other words, she was the perfect person for Fukayasu to verify whether or not she could truly read minds. However, no matter how hard she listened, she simply could not hear Shiron¡¯s voice. She was the first person whose thoughts Fukayasu couldn¡¯t hear. ¡°Natsume?¡± ¡°Huh, oh, yeah. I¡¯m listening, I¡¯m listening.¡± Her concentration broken, Fukayasu returned to reality, where she found Shiron staring at her curiously. ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking though¡­¡± ¡°That was a trick question.¡± ¡°Did you trip on air again?¡± Shiron said with a look of wonder. Fukayasu shot back a dirty glare. Fukayasu couldn¡¯t hear Shiron¡¯s true thoughts, and for the first time in her life, she couldn¡¯t help but think of her childhood friend as an ominous existence who didn¡¯t quite belong. Fukayasu Natsume and Komekawa Shiron first met in the playground of the preschool that they both attended. The two were one year apart, and the teachers always treated them like a bundle deal: the older student, giving affection like an older sister, and the younger student, the subject of her affection. On the other hand, seniority and the likes were a complete non-factor for the two. It didn¡¯t matter that one was a year older, or in a higher grade- they were equals, more like friends or siblings. Though their relationship wasn¡¯t quite the same as normal friends or siblings. Unlike normal friends, they belonged to separate friend groups in their respective grades, yet their friendship flourished in spite of, or perhaps due to, those differences. And Fukayasu was well aware that they were different from normal siblings. She herself had three sisters of different ages, and the ones closest in age always ended up fighting amongst each other. One year, fate brought along a decisive event that would change the course of their future. Every autumn at the elementary school that Fukayasu and Shiron attended, the parents¡¯ association would invite a professional drama troupe to come perform at their school. It was during their earlier years of primary school, and the play that year was ¡®The Little Mermaid.¡¯ The mere two hour play impacted the two in drastically different ways. Fukayasu enjoyed the play for those two hours, and not a minute more or less, and meanwhile, during that very same play, Shiron¡¯s lifelong dream flashed before her eyes. ¡°I want to be an actress.¡± It was the summer of Fukayasu¡¯s second year of middle school, and Shiron¡¯s third year. Shiron declared her dream boldly with unshakeable confidence. ¡°You mean, like a job? You realize what you¡¯re saying?¡± ¡°I know it¡¯ll be difficult.¡± ¡®Difficult¡¯ wasn¡¯t the right word. Trying to make a living as an actress couldn¡¯t be called a goal- it was more of a pipe dream. Did Shiron realize the hardships and misery that awaited her on such a path? Fukayasu was doubtful. The little mermaid¡¯s close friends, who cherished her and her once beautiful voice, sought the sea witch who had ruined the futures of countless young men and women before. That sea monster is commonly known to as ¡®dreams.¡¯ ¡°Well, I support you.¡± Fukayasu simply couldn¡¯t disapprove. After all, she belonged in the same boat. Still, she was convinced that her boat was preferable many times over. After all, she didn¡¯t believe that hers was a distant future dream or impossible aspiration. What she¡¯d written on her future planning worksheet was simply a goal. To become a hair stylist. To graduate from high school, complete two years of vocational school, and receive her beautician certificate. It sounded so simple when she put it into words, but in reality, the path she¡¯d chosen was incredibly treacherous. And she would have to walk the entire way without stumbling a single time. At any rate, cutting people¡¯s hair without the certificate was illegal. It didn¡¯t matter how skillful she was at styling hair, or how many tens of thousands of viewers she could garner on her youtube channel, without the bare minimum, she wouldn¡¯t get anywhere. To realize her goal, Fukayasu had no other choice. She needed that certificate. ¡®Certificate.¡¯ In that word, Fukayasu felt the weight of an unbudging reality that refused to move an inch, and the understanding that she needed to face it head on. Precisely during the very same second year of middle school, Fukayasu realized it. The people who had become her parents often told her ¡®As long as you live a long, healthy life, nothing else matters.¡¯ It was at that point of her life that she learned that those beautiful, idealistic words were only for show. In all fairness to her parents, perhaps those words had been sincere for the first few years of her life. However, as their little daughter grew older, she became unable to meet their trifling wishes. ¡®I hope she grows up as an honest girl¡¯ became ¡®a smarter, better girl,¡¯ and from then on, their realistic expectations became unachievable ideals, piling on without her parents even aware of what they were doing. The animal known as the homo sapiens might have eliminated their dependence on mother nature, but they could not eliminate their own, greedy nature still pervaded every aspect of their lives. ¡°Mama, I¡¯m gonna become a hair stylist.¡± It was the day before Fukayasu submitted her future planning worksheet. Fukayasu announced her future intentions to her parents, sitting next to each other in the living room. For a while, Fukayasu¡¯s parents said nothing. Their expressions were anything but pleasant. Her mother, who had continued her job as a businesswoman even after giving birth to Fukayasu, received the news with an especially cold reaction. ¡°This is your future, you know. Have you thought about this seriously?¡± ¡°¡­Is there anything wrong with being a hair stylist?¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t ask that question if you watched the news at all. Understand? We¡¯re living in an era of a rapidly declining population.¡± ¡°So basically, the population is shrinking, so robots are going to replace humans as hair stylists? Is that what you¡¯re saying?¡± Sulking, Fukuyasu abruptly remembered a documentary she¡¯d watched recently about developments in AI technology. ¡°That¡¯s not it. If the population shrinks, then there¡¯ll be less hair to cut. Have you researched the number of beautician licenses they give out per year?¡± ¡°And to become a hair stylist, you¡¯d have to go to vocational school and receive the certificate.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m not saying you can¡¯t retake the test if you fail it the first time, but you¡¯ll have wasted two years of your precious youth.¡± Her mother approached the topic in such a roundabout way while sounding clearly disappointed, and Fukayasu churned with anger. But there was no point in yelling and arguing back. Yelling would make her feel good in that moment, but she wouldn¡¯t gain anything out of it. Fukayasu wasn¡¯t a cool headed person by nature. She only managed to keep her composure by thinking about what Shiron would do in her spot. Shiron most certainly wouldn¡¯t yell, that she was sure of. ¡°Go to a regular four-year university. Somewhere that will actually be useful to your future.¡± Her mother¡¯s mind had been made up from the start. Her father said nothing. If Shiron, who was more earnest than anyone else about her dream, were in Fukayasu¡¯s shoes, then she would have eaten mud if it meant realizing her dream. Regardless of the circumstances, Shiron would have suppressed her self-esteem and done anything and everything possible, stubbornly fighting for her belief. ¡°What do I have to do for you to agree?¡± Fukayasu asked. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ Get into Konohana High first. Then I¡¯ll think about it.¡± Her mother named one of the prominent high schools of their region. Her mother hadn¡¯t named that condition arbitrarily. The harder a school¡¯s admissions process was, the smarter the students that attended it. If Fukayasu managed to somehow get in, then perhaps the influence from those students would change her mind. It was a cold, rational calculation. Parents see their own dreams in their children. Whether it be realizing some unfulfilled ideal, or being recognized by society for their achievements, or simply earning a lot of money- everything that the parents couldn¡¯t achieve is pushed onto the children. Of course, it is completely unreasonable. But parents can¡¯t be blamed for it. Until you tell them how you really feel, parents are free to set as many unreasonable expectations as they want. On the day following the incident with her mother, Fukayasu unexpectedly ran into Shiron on her way back from school. They ended up walking back together side by side, their route leading them to the top of a hill overlooking the town. From here, the entire town was visible in a single, unbroken view. Shiron broke the ice cream she was carrying into two and handed half to Fukayasu. ¡°I think a hair stylist sounds good,¡± she said curtly. ¡°My parents won¡¯t let me.¡± Fukayasu thanked Shiron and took the ice cream, catching a glance at her profile. Shiron had always been good at swimming with the tide. Despite their strict middle school¡¯s rules prohibiting it, she often secretly took money with her to school and bought ice cream on the way back. She knew exactly which stores wouldn¡¯t sell to a child in uniform, or which times to be vigilant for patrolling policemen, deftly avoiding capture. When she was discovered carrying a phone in school, she convinced the teachers that it wasn¡¯t hers, offering up another student as sacrifice. When she was caught with ice cream, she skillfully persuaded the teacher that it was someone else¡¯s fault. As her friend, Fukayasu received a portion of the fruits of her accomplishments. ¡°Parents are parents, I guess. Mine keep trying to tell me that I can¡¯t make a living as an actress.¡± ¡°Well, yeah.¡± The town¡¯s silhouette stretched out beneath the hill. It looked tiny. And Fukayasu, who lived there, was even tinier. ¡°It¡¯s so dumb. It¡¯s my life. Don¡¯t tell me what to do.¡± It was refreshing to see Shiron speaking so bluntly for a change. To Fukayasu, Shiron was an extremely easygoing friend, and someone she wanted to stand on equal footing with. And though Fukayasu would absolutely never admit it, there was no one else on the planet who she admired and respected more. ¡°So, have you given up?¡± asked Shiron. Under Shiron¡¯s intense scrutiny, Fukayasu had nowhere to hide. ¡°D-don¡¯t be stupid! Obviously I haven¡¯t given up! I¡¯ll never give up! It¡¯s just¡­¡± ¡°Just what?¡± ¡°My parents said if I get into Konohana High, they¡¯ll think about it.¡± Fukayasu told her about the condition her mother had set forth, her voice betraying her lack of confidence. It was an unthinkably difficult condition, after all. ¡°I got it!¡± Shiron shouted all of a sudden. A speeding car rushed by them barely a few feet away. The car¡¯s engine was still barely audible when Shiron declared her idea. ¡°I¡¯ll go to Konohana too!¡± ¡°Huh? What the hell are you saying?¡± Fukayasu began to seriously worry if there was something wrong with her one year older childhood friend¡¯s head. But Shiron continued as a matter-of-factly. ¡°All I need is to continue my schooling. Then I¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s going to convince your parents. And what does going to Konohana have to do with becoming an actress anyway? ¡°No, that¡¯s not the point, Natsume.¡± Shiron stood up, and with great vigor, she began to talk without pausing once. As long as she continued her education, as long as she did well in school, then her parents had no reason to complain. If she continued her education through high school, college, and graduate school, she could stay in school until she was twenty-four. That gave her plenty of time to find her big break into the world of acting. It was a life-prolonging scheme, so to speak. And in order to extend the amount of time she could spend chasing her dream, she would aim for a top tier high school. Several thousand hours spent studying for entrance exams was a cheap price to pay for years of time in the future. Shiron explained her plan proudly. ¡°Huh? It¡¯s already September though. Do you realize the difference in level between you and Konohana?¡± Fukayasu didn¡¯t understand. (T/N: Japanese school term begins in the spring) ¡°It¡¯s not impossible for me! ¡­Well, that¡¯s not true. It¡¯s impossible for me, but not for my dream! Besides, it¡¯ll be more impressive this way! I haven¡¯t shown my true power yet.¡± She definitely had a screw loose, Fukayasu thought with a sigh. She looked at Komekawa Shiron pitifully. However, half a year later, she realized that she had underestimated Shiron. Shiron had gone all out in her studies and gotten accepted to her number one high school. That harsh, frigid February, Fukayasu couldn¡¯t bear to look her childhood friend in the eye. Shiron was dazzling, her bright smile and outstretched peace sign shining more brilliantly than ever. However, Fukayasu, now one step further away from her friend, didn¡¯t fail to notice a critical detail. Shiron hadn¡¯t bothered to factor school tuition into her calculations. Perhaps she¡¯d assumed that her parents would shoulder the cost, or perhaps she figured that she¡¯d take out a student loan and pay it back in the future. At any rate, it was an extremely shortsighted and dangerous calculus. At the same time that Fukayasu reevaluated her assumptions about Shiron¡¯s capabilities, she learned something else. Shiron would stop at nothing to achieve her goals. Even so, Shiron¡¯s endeavors moved Fukayasu. Fukayasu decided to pursue her dream, urged on by a sense of duty more than anything else. And so, Fukayasu passed the Konohana entrance exams. It should have taken an entire year¡¯s worth of frenzied studying. That year should have been crammed with painstaking work, endurance, and self denial. Yet for that entire year, she felt nothing of the sort, passing into Konohana as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In all honesty, Fukayasu didn¡¯t think that she had worked particularly hard at all. Shiron passed, so she had to pass as well. That was all. She simply studied for five hours on weekdays after school, and eight hours on weekends and holidays, every day for one year. She wasn¡¯t exerting herself, she was simply studying. It was the day after the ¡®How-Why¡¯ incident. Fukayasu, with an immensely pleased look on her face, was showing her report card to her mother. Thinking that she¡¯d be able to please her mother with her passing grades, her happiness manifested itself as simple childish delight. ¡°Mama! Look at my midterm results!¡± ¡°¡­That¡¯s unexpected. Did you really study that much?¡± ¡°I studied tons!¡± Ignoring the sense of guilt, Fukayasu claimed full credit for her achievement. Her mother¡¯s conditions were to get into Konohana, and keep up with her studies. Based on these midterm results, Fukayasu wasn¡¯t doing bad at all. ¡°So, what about beauty school?¡± ¡°Let me show this to your dad and see what he thinks. Give me a second.¡± ¡°The parent-teacher conference is in two weeks. Don¡¯t forget.¡± So make sure you come to a decision about your daughter¡¯s future, Fukayasu implied with her words. Her mother seemed to understand her intentions. (This isn¡¯t good. This isn¡¯t good at all. Did I set my condition too low?) As she stared at the report card she was holding, Fukayasu¡¯s mother rubbed her white cheek with her other hand, as if trying to stop her facial expressions from betraying her thoughts. However, her thoughts themselves were all to plain to see. (How can I scare her away from her foolish dream?) Her voice, which never should have ever made it out of the recesses of her mind, broadcasted her large disappointment directly to Fukayasu. 3. After classes ended on Wednesday, Fukayasu went to watch the drama club¡¯s practice again. The ballet club was also practicing in the gymnasium while the basketball club was running an informal game. Meanwhile, the drama club was hustling about the stage. Amidst the practice, Shiron alone stood out from the rest of the club members. Even someone who¡¯d never seen a play before could have easily picked out the star actress. It was hard to put into words, but it felt like the other members weren¡¯t made to act on stage. Perhaps they¡¯d be better off doing comedy sketches, Fukayasu thought dubiously. The club president even went so far as to pretending to cry at how terrible they were. ¡°Waaaaaah, Nacchannnn!¡± ¡°I told you to not call me Nacchan. It¡¯s annoying.¡± Shiron hopped off the stage and sprinted towards the entrance where Fukayasu was standing and watching the practice. It was a scene that Fukayasu had gotten used to by now. The club members allowed themselves to chuckle for a brief moment before returning back to their practice. In their childhood, Shiron always called Fukayasu ¡®Nacchan.¡¯ Now, the nickname was used more often than not as a way of teasing. On a separate note, Fukayasu used to call Shiron ¡®Shiro-chan.¡¯ ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I call Nacchan ¡®Nacchan¡¯?¡± ¡°I swear to god you¡¯re still gonna be calling me Nacchan when I¡¯m an old woman.¡± ¡°When you¡¯re an old woman¡­ so you¡¯re saying we¡¯re going to be friends forever¡î¡±¡¡She winked cutely. Fukayasu shivered. ¡°Don¡¯t act innocently in front of me. It gives me the creeps.¡± ¡°Tch. I was giving you fanservice.¡± What part of that was fanservice, Fukayasu sighed. No amount of cutesy acting on Shiron¡¯s part would improve her mood. ¡°Did ya¡¯ll see that? That was my overdramatic character performance!¡± Shiron couldn¡¯t contain the excitement in her voice as she addressed the other club members. ¡°You speak to your members like that¡­? I feel sorry for them.¡± ¡°Just you watch. I¡¯m gonna drown the entirety of America with a storm born from the throes of passion created by my performance.¡± ¡°You mean you¡¯re going to take them by storm?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m gonna drown the continent with a storm made of tears.¡± ¡°Ah, you meant drown them physically.¡± Fukayasu dutifully played the part of the straight-man, enabling Shiron¡¯s antics. Shiron looked towards the ceiling exaggeratedly and boomed in an announcer voice. ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, ¡®The Dumbass Play¡¯!!¡± ¡°We can hear you!!¡± Angry shouts rang from the stage, where the club members had suddenly become riled up. This year, Konohana¡¯s drama club¡¯s performance had been especially terrible. It was so terrible that a scathing student from a different school had dubbed it ¡®The Dumbass Play.¡¯ Originally, Shiron raged with indignity, but after she had vented out most of her anger, she decided that the student hadn¡¯t been wrong, and began using the name as well. Konohana High School¡¯s drama club was at an all time low, to the point where the president admitted it. To begin with, their props were horrible. Their fake flowers withered and died. Dolls they made would shed all their hair. Their chairs always collapsed. They tried store-bought chairs instead, but those kept collapsing anyway. To top it all off, during the actual performance, one of the ringtones of a smartphone they were using as a prop went off. And somehow, the call was automatically accepted via a hands-free feature, following which a shrill girl¡¯s voice was blasted throughout the hall, accusing the smartphone owner of cheating on her. At any rate, legends of the drama club¡¯s incompetence would go down in the school¡¯s history. Fukayasu doubted that their fake flowers had actually withered away, but she knew the smartphone story was real. She¡¯d seen the tragedy unfold with her own eyes. She had gone to see the play, keeping it a secret from Shiron. Saki and Miki, accompanying her, had burst into uncontrollable laughter, and Fukayasu couldn¡¯t help but giggle despite herself. So this is what Shiron meant by the drama club being at an all time low. A tragedy that could have easily been prevented had they used a fake phone instead. Or, they could¡¯ve just turned on Do Not Disturb. But instead, they¡¯d destroyed their entire performance because they couldn¡¯t even think that far ahead. How could anyone be blamed for criticizing the drama club? They really should just stick with comedy, Fukayasu thought. ¡°Ah man, we were so good last year.¡± Shiron stared at the stage with a faraway look in her eyes. ¡°We were so good last year. We had way more practices then. Everyone loved our performance, and our club was filled with people who lived for theater.¡± ¡°You¡¯re still as obsessed with your seniors as ever.¡± ¡°That¡¯s ¡¯cause they were amazing! I know without a shadow of doubt they¡¯ll get their big breaks into the world of theater.¡± ¡°Alright alright, I get it.¡± ¡°But first, I have to sort myself out.¡± Shiron¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Shiron¡­¡± But Fukayasu was an outsider who had nothing to do with the drama club. There was nothing she could say. Shiron had never invited Fukayasu to join the drama club. Other members, who¡¯d grown accustomed to seeing Fukayasu pop in for visits, often joked that she may as well join, seeing as how she was basically an honorary member already. However, Shiron herself had never once extended such an invitation. It¡¯s better this way, Fukayasu thought. Shiron was truly devoted to theater. It was pure, unadulterated devotion. If Fukayasu ever donned the title of actress, she¡¯d probably become the subject of Shiron¡¯s contempt. Nor did Shiron ever invite her to see a performance. There was nothing more embarrassing for Shiron than to be seen in a bad play. Fukayasu was keenly aware of their distance as friends. And for someone as knowledgeable in social affairs as herself, there was no way she could misread something like that. 4. Fukayasu knew it well. She knew that while humans carry out their daily lives under a beautiful guise of universal equality, the face behind the mask is often less than beautiful. She knew that invisible floors separated the students in her class into castes. And she also knew that the floor she walked on was a ceiling for everyone else. Fukayasu belonged to the class¡¯s nobility. She never felt uncomfortable surrounded by her classmates. She wasn¡¯t a peasant, so even when she had to show consideration for someone else¡­ well, such situations were rare to the point of being nonexistent. She never said it out loud, but unlike the peasants who were her peers, she was never particularly concerned about being disliked. Human relationships meant being bound up with fetters of obligation. They were suffocating. It didn¡¯t matter whether you were an adult or a child. If you said what you wanted to say, your words would turn into gossip and come back to bite you. If you did what you wanted to do, they would say that you got carried away and that would again turn into gossip. If things got out of hand, that gossip turned into malicious bullying. Getting your chair kicked out from under you, your belongings being stolen, oh, and, getting stuffed into a locker. Fukayasu had seen it all happen to others before. It was inevitable- the result of shoving a bunch of teenage boys and girls into a cramped classroom. Human beings weren¡¯t angels, they were more akin to monkeys, Fukayasu thought. Such was the caste system within their class. Animals created hierarchies, and they always obeyed those hierarchies without fail. Groups of Medaka fish living in a small container bully and kill their family members without batting an eye. Fukayasu constantly worked to maintain her status as nobility. She never disturbed peace, avoided everything deemed ¡®uncool,¡¯ and demonstrated her values by honoring trends. But there was a student in the class which the caste couldn¡¯t place. Aizawa Ayaka. She didn¡¯t hang out with anyone other than Inaba. Someone who you could never expect cooperation from. The other nobility considered her an outcast. They looked down on her as unfit for society, someone who couldn¡¯t ever compare to themselves. They were idiots, all of them¡­ Those who failed to realize the true nature of her existence were fated for an untimely social death. Fukayasu, who had survived this far in the school¡¯s vicious environment, knew that all too well. Some primal instinct deep within Fukayasu strongly warned her that Aizawa wasn¡¯t an outcast. Harmless if left untouched. But if aggravated, you would end up paying the highest possible price. So what exactly was Aizawa¡¯s true nature? Fukayasu only clearly understood it once she gained the ability to read minds. She was royalty. No one else was aware of it, but Aizawa and Inaba were queens, Fukayasu thought. They ruled over no one, so they weren¡¯t nobility. But nor were they ruled by anyone. They were free, unshackled beings. If you tried to control them, you would be the only one who ended up hurt. Fukayasu, with her acute sense of smell, sensed this whilst no one else had. They said the things they wanted to say, and did the things they wanted to do. They did it as naturally as breathing. And if they felt like it, they could become the center of the class whenever they liked. Whenever Fukayasu looked at the two, standing calmly in solitude apart from the rest, a sour taste would fill her chest. It was a taste commonly referred to as envy. Fukayasu knew how to read the atmosphere better than anyone, and she paid attention to the tiniest details that others might not even consider. Thanks to her efforts, she had attained a certain level of freedom in what she could say and do. But no matter how much she persevered, she could never attain the degree of total freedom that those two embodied. Her jealousy was only natural. It was Thursday morning, and Fukayasu was despondent. First, she had overslept. Her hair was a complete mess, tangled in every which way, and she agonized over how to salvage it. In the end, she decided on a half-up style. Still, she ended up arriving five minutes late. She entered the classroom only to find it uncharacteristically noisy, and she didn¡¯t have time to ask someone to let her copy their classical japanese translation homework. But that was fine; Fukayasu didn¡¯t panic. After all, she could hear thoughts. If she was called on, she would just read the teacher¡¯s mind for the answers. There was nothing to worry about. It was at that point that she heard the voices. The reason behind the classroom¡¯s noise. (Huh¡­ something¡¯s weird¡­) (Did we have a quiz first period¡­? No. Why¡¯s everyone so fidgety?) Fukayasu glanced around the classroom. Everyone seemed aware of the fidgety atmosphere, and were deliberately avoiding looking at a certain spot in the classroom. In that certain spot, three girls were cheerfully conversing. ¡°-so after the test, I went to see the movie! It was really good!¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t seen it yet. I¡¯ve only read the book. ¡­What about you, Michiru?¡± ¡°¡­¡­I¡¯m sleepy.¡± The usually docile Kotani was going on excitedly about a movie. Aizawa chimed in with comments, while the usually sociable Michiru seemed awfully docile. The main problem was how they were positioned. Inaba was sitting on the edge of Aizawa¡¯s chair, as if the two were sharing a chair, which couldn¡¯t have been comfortable for her, but she didn¡¯t let out a single complaint as she sat calmly while every part of her body from waist to shoulder was glued tightly to Aizawa¡¯s. How dare those two act so shamelessly in front of others! (What am I watching. I¡¯m obviously third-wheeling here¡­ I want out¡­) Kotani, despite her inner struggles, kept up her appearances remarkably well. Everyone else pretended not to see. No one said anything. Everyone acted as if they were busy with something else, as if nothing was wrong. After all, royalty lived in a world of their own. Still, the classroom was filled with turbulence that morning. One boy passed by their desk, and his nose twitched. (Wait¡­ What¡­?) Out of pure curiosity, Fukayasu dropped in on his thoughts. (What¡¯s with Aizawa¡¯s hair? Why does it smell like¡­) It wasn¡¯t just him. Several other students sitting near them or passing by noticed as well. (Aizawa and Inaba used the same shampoo?) (Did they have a sleepover? Really?) It was Thursday morning. Yesterday was a school day, and today was a school day. Naturally, it was hard to believe that one would have a sleepover. The atmosphere had infected nearly half the classroom. Aizawa, the person in question, seemed to be acting perfectly normal. ¡°Hey, shouldn¡¯t you sit in your own chair instead of squeezing me out of mine?¡± But on the inside, (I slept over I slept over I slept over I slept over¡­) Beneath her expressionless demeanor was an uproar of activity. There was one more person in question. ¡°¡­I like it here¡­¡­I like it here.¡± Inaba leaned her head against Aizawa, dozing off. Interestingly enough, her thoughts were exceptionally pronounced. (I missed my chance! I missed my chance to tell her! I have to tell her eventually, but I couldn¡¯t tell her! And why the hell does Ayaka always fall asleep so fast!? She¡¯s so defenseless while sleeping, and so cute, so how do you expect me to get any sleep!?) Her thoughts flew by at unthinkably high speeds, and Fukayasu struggled to make coherent sense out of them. ¡®Always¡¯¡­? Fukayasu choked. Did they have sleepovers on a regular basis? When did they develop that sort of relationship? Their pure, honest friendship dropped like a bomb in the middle of their unaware classmates. In that way, morning homeroom passed, and classes started. All throughout class, Aizawa¡¯d mind was soaring through clouds somewhere far, far away, her textbook left unopened. Normally, she was far from being a diligent student during class, but at the very least, she always had her textbook open. She at least pretended to listen to the lesson. Though she didn¡¯t really take notes. Fukayasu kept sneaking quick peaks at Aizawa and Inaba. Aizawa might as well not even have been there. The classical Japanese teacher saw that as a sign of weakness. ¡°Alright, Aizawa-san, please read starting from page eighty three line four.¡± Quite obviously, the teacher was hoping to bring down the prodigy when her guard was down. ¡°Okay.¡± Aizawa looked straight ahead and smoothly read through the passage. Her voice sounded perfectly normal. She never faltered once at the difficult vocabulary or strange pronunciations. It was a praiseworthy performance, but at the same time, that was well within expectations. But one small detail was extremely abnormal. Aizawa didn¡¯t have her textbook open. She hadn¡¯t even taken it out of her bag. Yet she was reading. Her clear voice rang throughout the classroom, entering Fukayasu¡¯s ears. Her words resounded through every person in the classroom. They matched line for line word for word character for character with the textbooks open on everyone¡¯s desk, but she didn¡¯t have hers out¡­ ¡°Excuse me. How far should I read up to?¡± ¡°A-ah, this much is fine. Thank you.¡± The classical Japanese teacher flinched. Such was the girl who¡¯d never gotten anything lower than full marks on anything from tests in school to mock exams out of school. The genius who was said to be capable of passing any college exam. Had she already memorized the contents of the textbooks? Her interest piqued, Fukayasu observed Aizawa Ayaka for the whole day. Fukayasu took every opportunity to gaze at Aizawa, much like how middle school students stare longingly at their crush sitting across the classroom. A few of her classmates noticed Fukayasu¡¯s apparent interest and interpreted it the wrong way. (Fukayasu¡¯s being reckless¡­) (I can¡¯t believe she¡¯s trying to get in between those two) Fukayasu scoffed at their stupidity. In the end, Aizawa never did take out her textbook. The entire incident only reaffirmed Fukayasu¡¯s belief that Aizawa was different, that she had sleepovers at Inaba¡¯s house, which is also why she hadn¡¯t brought her textbooks or notebooks to school. Coincidentally, Fukayasu also learned that Aizawa didn¡¯t store her textbooks at school. After class, Fukayasu went to the drama club¡¯s practice, where she found an nearly unfathomable sight awaiting her. The first thing that seemed off was Komekawa Shiron¡¯s face. Her expression looked vaguely grim. She was still in her school uniform, which Fukayasu thought strange. Shiron was an actress, and given their limited amount of time, she should¡¯ve been in full costume. The next thing that stood out to her was so horrifying that Fukayasu couldn¡¯t bear to look once she realized what had happened. Her childhood friend¡¯s leg looked odd. In particular, something was plainly off about the region from her right knee down. A cumbersome, bulky cast was wrapped around Shiron¡¯s right calf. She was sitting slouched in a plastic chair, watching disinterestedly at the other members practicing. ¡°Broke my leg,¡± Shiron said when she noticed Fukayasu approaching, chuckling nonchalantly. ¡°W-what the hell¡­¡± ¡°It hurts real bad¡î.¡± She stuck out her tongue, which was exceedingly difficult to watch. Fukayasu stared at Shiron¡¯s right leg in utter disbelief. What had happened? She couldn¡¯t even imagine. But the reality of the situation was that Shiron had gravely injured her leg. Fukayasu felt like her body had turned to ice. What had happened couldn¡¯t be undone. Up until today, Shiron had frantically prepared for their next performance. She¡¯d given her life and soul for the sake of the drama club. However, with this leg¡­ How could she act like everything was alright? ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°I dropped a dumbbell.¡± Shiron stuck out her tongue. Was she an idiot? She wasn¡¯t in any position to joke around. ¡°You have your performance on saturday with the other schools, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yeah. Looks like I¡¯ll have to drop out.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re the main lead¡­?¡± ¡°Ah, sucks.¡± Fukayasu could almost see Shiron¡¯s invisible tears. While she couldn¡¯t read her childhood friend¡¯s thoughts, she could somewhat understand what Shiron felt. ¡®somewhat¡¯? Screw that. She didn¡¯t need to be a mind-reader to know exactly what Shiron was thinking. (Fukayasu came.) (Finally, someone who can give President a good ol¡¯ whacking. She deserves it.) (Guess the saturday performance isn¡¯t happening after all.) The club members¡¯ thoughts revealed their concern. Their despondent eyes spoke for themselves, and their thoughts conveyed their desperation far more poignantly than words could. ¡°Please¡­¡± Someone please help. ¡°I mean, what can you do, amirite?¡± Fukayasu looked at Shiron imploringly. ¡°Please, Shiron. This isn¡¯t like you.¡± Shiron said nothing. Fukayasu felt an indescribable sense of discomfort. It was as if Shiron had calmly accepted her fate without any sort of resistance, an attitude that raised goosebumps on Fukayasu¡¯s skin. ¡°Why do you look so unhappy, Nacchan? I¡¯m the one who¡¯s been affected the most.¡± ¡°You¡¯re lying¡­ you¡¯re lying.¡± It was a terrible act. If Shiron¡¯s calm and composed attitude was a performance, then it was one of most unconvincing performances Fukayasu had seen. For someone like Shiron, it was an abomination. ¡°Wait here for a sec.¡± ¡°Nacchan!?¡± But Fukayasu was already sprinting out the door. Currently, she was stuck at deadlock, without any clear way out. But she knew someone who could help. I hope she¡¯s still at school¡­ Fukayasu ran. Time was ticking down to saturday. And there wasn¡¯t a second to spare. Clutching at the hem of her fluttering skirt, she ran down the hallway, school rules be damned. She nearly flew down a flight of stairs. As panicked as she was, a part of her mind remained clear- first step, head to the entrance. After checking that Aizawa¡¯s shoes were still there, thereby confirming that she was still in the classroom, she climbed up the stairs again. She was panting from exertion. As she neared the classroom, two voices became distinctly audible. (Such long eyelashes¡­) (Ah, she smells so good¡­) One voice belonged to Aizawa. And of course, the other could only belong to Inaba. Thank god- Fukayasu felt like she had already been saved. (¡­!!) What sounded like a flustered voice echoed from the classroom, but Fukayasu didn¡¯t stop. (Ayaka¡­ hurry up, do it again.) Normally, Fukayasu wouldn¡¯t have dared to burst into the classroom at a time like this. Just from their thoughts, it was more than obvious that they were in the middle of something. Interrupting their romantic moment would be like kicking a horse- she was just asking to get murdered in cold blood. However, Fukayasu didn¡¯t have the leisure of considering her life right now. ¡°Help, Aizawa!¡± Fukayasu clapped her hands together and prostrated on the ground. Aizawa would help her, somehow. Aizawa the royalty, Aizawa the genius, Aizawa would find a solution to a problem that Fukayasu would never be able to. For Aizawa who achieved full score on all her tests, who read without opening her textbook, who even predicted the earthquake, for Aizawa the witch of the classroom, for that Aizawa, surely something like a high school theater performance was nothing. Aizawa could undoubtedly save the performance before breakfast tomorrow. Unconsciously, Fukayasu pushed all her absurdly unrealistic expectations onto Aizawa. ¡°What¡¯s the matter¡­?¡± At first, Aizawa Ayaka was flustered. She was shaken, so much that she had lost her composure. Fukayasu silently apologized for barging into her time with Inaba, but it didn¡¯t matter right now. ¡°I need your help for theater club.¡± Fukayasu didn¡¯t hesitate as she went on to explain the situation. Several drama clubs from various high schools would gather on Sunday, each giving their performance. Konohana¡¯s drama club was participating as well. The president Komekawa, the main lead, had broken her leg. Without a replacement, they¡¯d be forced to drop out. Naturally, the lead actress showed up in most of the scenes, and was responsible for a mountain of lines, so no one could possible fill that role. (This has nothing to do with me. It has nothing to do with me, but I could help Fukayasu-san. If I do nothing and let her hang by herself, then nothing will have changed up to now. But ever since I met her, I¡¯ve changed. If I believe that I¡¯ve changed, then¡­ Even a hunter won¡¯t shoot a bird that seeks his help¡­ How fitting.) Aizawa, who fully understood the situation, replied tersely. ¡°If there are recordings of the past stagings, I¡¯ll do it.¡± She didn¡¯t ask about the script, nor compensation. She simply asked for a model. ¡°Ayaka!?¡± Inaba reacted sharply. She was being considerate of Aizawa. ¡°You know it¡¯s saturday, right? You only have two days left.¡± To put it bluntly, ¡®Forget about Fukayasu.¡¯ But Fukayasu barely reacted. She¡¯d known that Inaba would react like that. And more importantly, Fukayasu took comfort in the fact that Aizawa didn¡¯t falter in her conviction. (It¡¯s fine, I still have ten days until then. At the bare minimum, I¡¯ll have four days. That¡¯s plenty of time.) But she had no idea what Aizawa was thinking. ¡°Aizawa, I¡¯m just making sure with you. Our show is the day after tomorrow. Can you make it?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m a genius.¡± While Fukayasu did question whether Aizawa was aware of the situation¡¯s pressing reality, a single thread of hope had been dangled in front of her, and she clung onto it tightly. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Michiru started worriedly. Fukayasu took out her phone. Naturally, she would first contact Shiron. Before anything, she had to resolve the question of tapes. It went without saying that Fukayasu felt bad for Shiron, but the performance was the only thing she could salvage for now. (Stop it, Ayaka¡­ At this rate, it¡¯ll be the same as last time¡­ ah-) Inaba met eyes with Fukayasu. Fukayasu felt a torrent of unease envelop Inaba¡¯s heart as she waited for Shiron to pick up. Last time¡­? (Natsume-chan, did she just read my- mrghh) Fukayasu felt a sharp pain as Inaba¡¯s heart skipped a beat. Huh? Did she find out? That I can read minds? Inaba? What was she about to think? -¡¯Natsume-chan, did she just read my mind? I can¡¯t think anything unnecessary then¡¯? Something along those lines? If you¡¯re scared of the dark, then every shadow will start to look like a monster. Fukayasu was no exception as she carefully studied her classmate¡¯s expression. Inaba Michiru, averting her gaze, had a faraway look in her eyes. Aizawa hadn¡¯t picked up on her change in demeanor. Undeterred, Fukayasu considered the implications of what that meant. But before she could read too deeply into anything, the line with Shiron connected, and she let go of her worries. Aizawa had agreed to help, meaning that the drama club was saved. Whether Inaba had figured out her ability or not was irrelevant. And Fukayasu wasn¡¯t the type of person to bother with an irrelevance. In other words, Fukayasu was good at swimming with the tide. If she encountered a wall she needed to get over, she adeptly found a tunnel underneath. If there was a roof she needed to scale, she intuitively knew where the ladders were stored. However, she never realized her mistake. The wall she thought she had to get over was actually a roof, and one look from the roof at the surrounding scenery would change her view completely. The roof she was supposed to climb was actually the neighboring one, and she had placed her ladder in the wrong position. In other words, Fukayasu, with utter efficiency, advanced down the completely wrong path. 5. A miracle had occurred. Everyone in the drama club thought so. Before then, they¡¯d all given up. On Thursday morning, they all thought that they¡¯d have to drop out of the performance. However, the small statured first year student that Fukayasu had brought along perfectly filled the void in their cast. It was almost magical. Her speech was fluent, her movement smooth and practiced, with perfect understanding of the script. If one was taken by some wild delusion, they might even be led to believe that this was better than the original. There were absolutely no complaints to speak of. On saturday, the joint performance was held in the park grounds of the community center. The drama clubs from nearby high schools all gathered, and with every school in attendance, the event began and ended without a hitch. Fukayasu wouldn¡¯t forget it for her entire life. It was seared into her eyes. The magnificent performance of the replacement actress, bathing in the spotlight. She seemed to glow from the very tips of her hair to the soles of her feet. Her movements were refined and masterfully executed, as if she had practiced them hundreds of times. Her clear words echoed grandly through the audience, her voice so pleasing to hear. Subtle expressions skillfully told the play¡¯s story in their own way, while color seemed to emanate from her lively eyes. If she sighed, the audience sighed with her. When she smiled, the audience felt reassured from the bottom of the heart. Aizawa Ayaka was born for the theater. And so, what followed was an inevitability. On the way home after the event, Fukayasu and Shiron headed home together. They rode the bus from the community center, and by the time they get off at the stop near their homes, the autumn sun was already setting. Apart from Shiron¡¯s crutches, the scene reminded Fukayasu of the occasional times in middle school where the two had walked back along this very path. Shiron narrowed her eyes against the sun. ¡°Where did you find a talent like that?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t she amazing? She¡¯s the pride of our class.¡± Fukayasu couldn¡¯t resist the sudden urge to brag. But immediately after, she regretted her lack of prudence. Shiron¡¯s heart was wrenched by complicated emotions. (I can¡¯t believe someone like that¡­ It¡¯s too weird¡­) Fukayasu made out snatches of her dark emotions. It went without saying that she was thinking about Aizawa Ayaka. Fukayasu shrank back in fear away from her friend¡¯s mind. The strong emotions brewing in Shiron threatened to overwhelm even Fukayasu, who began to feel traces of Shiron¡¯s darkness spread through her own mind. ¡°What a monster. I want her to show up for practice tomorrow too,¡± Shiron said. (Her existence shouldn¡¯t be possible.) ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s Sunday.¡± ¡°Then Monday.¡± ¡°¡­Then, should I invite her?¡± Fukayasu asked. Her heart stung. Everything was always about Aizawa. Shiron hadn¡¯t ever offered Fukayasu an invitation to the drama club. And now¡­ ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± Why was she so quick with Aizawa? (She was like just the seniors from last year¡­) Before she even noticed, she had started to read Shiron¡¯s thoughts effortlessly. Fukayasu knew her ability was growing stronger. She no longer had to concentrate in order to read thoughts. Not only could she hear Shiron¡¯s previously unreadable thoughts, Fukayasu could distinctly sense her waves of emotions that couldn¡¯t be put into words. ¡°She¡¯s probably had acting experience before, right? Or been to some special school for theater?¡± Shiron asked. ¡°Nah. I haven¡¯t asked, but I don¡¯t think so.¡± Fukayasu wasn¡¯t sure whether the cracking noise of Shiron¡¯s heart breaking had been real, or whether she had imagined it. Once reverence reaches a certain point, it becomes something akin to jealousy, and once that jealousy becomes concentrated enough, it transforms into hatred. As with all emotions, negative feelings change rapidly and colorfully. (How is she that good, why, unfair, what about me, amateur, dream, same school, impossible, how many others like her are out there? Am I going to have to compete with people like her and beat them and come out alive? That¡¯s absurd¡­) Then, Fukayasu heard the decisive words. (After I went this far! Nacchan ruined everything!) Fukayasu¡¯s legs stopped moving. Shiron¡¯s crutches continued to clunk against the ground as her back receded further and further way. The bright rays of the evening sun shone unwaveringly, and her hair fluttered in the autumn breeze while the sunset hid her features in an orange silhouette. Their distance increased, but Shiron¡¯s thoughts were still infuriatingly clear, and though the sun hid her features, they were clearly audible to Fukayasu, whose heart reflected Shiron¡¯s thoughts like a mirror. ¡°Natsume?¡± Several meters ahead, Shiron looked back. Shiron¡¯s expression was carefully composed, betraying nothing, only expressing puzzlement at why Fukayasu had suddenly stopped. Not even in her wildest dreams could Shiron have imagined that her deepest thoughts had all been exposed. Fukayasu, who wanted to cry at such her childhood friend¡¯s mask, stared back. ¡°Shiron¡­¡± She forced away the trembling in her voice. ¡°How did you get that injury again?¡± ¡°I told you, I dropped a dumbell on my leg.¡± As irritating as Shiron¡¯s lazy tone was, she wasn¡¯t lying. Fukayasu had been deceived. And it was her own fault. I dropped a dumbell on my leg- by accident. I dropped a dumbell on my leg- on purpose. Without further clarification, both meanings were possible. ¡°Shiron, did you do that to yourself?¡± Silence. The autumn wind blew against her skin, and Fukayasu felt an itch on the back of her neck. A sigh. Shiron¡¯s usual gaze had turned grim somewhere along the line. Then. ¡°You really see through everything.¡± She admitted it. ¡°Why, did you¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re always coming to our practices. Surely you know the reason. The drama club has no future.¡± Fukayasu considered her childhood friend dearer than anyone, but at that moment, she seemed ever so far away. ¡°I¡¯d rather die than let people see that garbage performance. A leg is a cheap price to pay,¡± Shiron spat. Fukayasu should¡¯ve been well aware by now. This girl would stop at nothing achieve her goals. She should¡¯ve been well aware after Shiron had passed the Konohana High School entrance exams. But she hadn¡¯t been able to face the truth. ¡°Shiron, that¡¯s not¡­ you can¡¯t just do that.¡± It wasn¡¯t supposed to end up like this. Results weren¡¯t the only important thing when it came to high school clubs. Clubs were places for individuals with a common goal, where they gathered and toiled and cooperated and marched forward together. Naturally, achieving the goal was ideal, but even if they failed, they accepted the result together. Clubs were places to grow. ¡°It reaaaaaaaaaaally hurt!¡± Shiron wasn¡¯t looking at Fukayasu. She laughed brightly, gesturing grandly with her hands as she talked. ¡°At first, I was hesitant, and I dropped it from waist high. But my leg didn¡¯t break from that. It hurt a ton, but I could still walk and move properly.¡± ¡°Shiron, stop¡­¡± Suddenly, Shiron¡¯s memory broke into Fukayasu¡¯s mind. A torrent of mental images slammed into Fukayasu, who had lost all control of her ability as Shiron¡¯s recollection became her own. ¡¶Late afternoon, in a room dyed red by the setting sun. Beyond the red was black. The metal dumbells she used to lose weight were cold, unbudging, cruel. But their weight was more ruthless than the metal itself. No need to hesitate, no need for delicacy¡­¡· ¡°So I had to drop it from shoulder height instead, right¡­¡± ¡°Stop¡­ I don¡¯t want to hear anymore¡­¡± When Fukayasu had sought help from the witch, she hadn¡¯t known anything. What else to call a girl with superhuman abilities other than ¡®witch¡¯? No doubt, Shiron would have known. She would have known the implications of relying on a witch. At that moment, the event which had forever changed Shiron¡¯s life surfaced in the recesses of Fukayasu¡¯s mind. The elementary school gymnasium¡¯s lights were all dark, casting the hall in pitch black. The actors shone brilliantly beneath the spotlight on stage. The Little Mermaid. The little mermaid who saved the prince couldn¡¯t tell him what happened that stormy night. The little mermaid who¡¯d fallen in love with the prince couldn¡¯t even confess her overflowing emotions. After all, she had no voice. In order to obtain feet and discard her life in the sea, she had offered her voice in exchange. The witch demanded her voice, so beautiful that it garnered the envy of the entire world, as compensation for her magic. Every child alive knew how the fairy tale went. Unable to convey her feelings, unable to return to sea, she could only watch pitifully as time passed, and eventually a beautiful bride-to-be for the prince appeared. The witch then offered two choices to the little mermaid, who was still oblivious to the witch¡¯s true nature. The first- kill the prince, and in return the witch would give her back her voice and fins, and her life in the sea. Or- give up on everything. The little mermaid had reached a dead end. Tragedy awaited regardless of which she picked. Why? What had she done wrong? Why did the world respond to such an innocent, brave girl with merciless brutality? The answer is obvious- because she sought the help of magic. When the little girl borrowed the witch¡¯s power, her future became muddied. The witch demanded compensation for her magic. And it wasn¡¯t a price that normal girls could pay. ¡°I went through all that trouble to destroy our shit performance, and you spoiled all of it.¡± Shiron glared daggers at Fukayasu. Fukayasu instinctively drew back. (¡õ¡õ¡õ¡õ¡õ¡õ¡õ¡õ¡õ¡õ¡õ¡õ) Shiron¡¯s emotions no longer took the form of words. Only wave after wave of black amplified by Fukayasu¡¯s mind-reading ability, directed at her, and they resonated within her, staining her heart. Fukayasu was on the verge of tears, half protesting half pleading. More than anything, Fukayasu was devastated by the unwavering corruption in Shiron¡¯s heart. ¡°Don¡¯t say that. Everyone worked so hard for this.¡± ¡°Natsume.¡± Shiron sounded like she was scolding her. ¡°No one worked hard. Everyone was lazy and no one did anything. Unless you¡¯re telling me everyone worked hard to achieve that shitstorm of a performance.¡± Fukayasu understood Shiron¡¯s grievances. She understood them all too well. Even before she had attained her ability, Fukayasu and Shiron didn¡¯t need words to communicate. So right now, her mind-reading ability, which magnified that to the greatest possible extent, had transformed into a curse. She wasn¡¯t just hearing Shiron¡¯s thoughts anymore. She was sharing them. Shiron¡¯s thoughts were now Fukayasu¡¯s. Shiron¡¯s pain, her hatred, her grief, all of it, belonged to Fukayasu as well. The scars and wounds lining her childhood friend¡¯s heart were now carved into her own. Shiron¡¯s actions were wrong. Fukayasu refused to concede that part of her beliefs. But due to her ability, Shiron¡¯s feelings resonated with her. Shiron¡¯s agony and resolve were simply too strong, and Fukayasu had no choice but to empathize. And- (Now is the time¡­ If there¡¯s a monster like her in the same grade as me, there¡¯s no future for me in acting¡­) Resignation poured out of the gaping hole in Shiron¡¯s heart. She was going to quit theater. ¡°No¡­¡± But for Fukayasu, that was something scarier than death. ¡°I don¡¯t want that, Shiron.¡± Fukayasu loved the Shiron who chased after her dream. Because of Shiron, who acted recklessly without hesitation, who did whatever she wanted to, who was always there for her, Fukayasu could endure the melancholy of the everyday. However, (I¡¯m quitting.) Those words came out quickly and indifferently, without any emotion at all. But those bottled up emotions were violently rampaging inside of Shiron. ¡°You can¡¯t do that¡­!¡± Fukayasu cried in desperation. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not like I have a choice¡­ Hey Nacchan, were you trying to help me?¡± Shiron was dead serious. She had gambled everything for theater. Unlike Shiron, Fukayasu had never devoted herself so zealously to something. She never realized how much it meant, how precious that feeling was- and how much it hurt. It was like being stabbed with a blade straight through her heart. An onslaught of unbearable pain accompanied by raging flames, tormenting Fukayasu. Invisible blood seeped from her raw, open wounds, drowning her feet in a red, sticky sea. ¡°Or were you making fun of me?¡± Shiron forced herself to smile as her eyes brimmed with tears. They were standing in hell. The world of the living was being repainted by her blood, by darkness, transforming into hell. Her wounds created by the curse grew wider and wider as if they wanted to devour the world. ¡°No! That wasn¡¯t what I was trying to do.¡± ¡°Is that so. Nacchan, you¡¯re such a good girl. But you see, I¡¯m a bad girl.¡± There was a twinge of self-mockery in her voice. In that moment, Fukayasu felt herself overcome by a strange sensation, and at the same time, became clearly aware how much she had truly admired Shiron. She admired Shiron for chasing after her dream despite knowing the difficulties. She was cooler than anyone else Fukayasu knew. But now, her aspirations were gone, smashed into pieces and scattered to the winds. Shiron once had a dream, but all she held now were broken fragments. Shiron continued on dreamily. ¡°You¡¯re a good girl Nacchan. Don¡¯t talk to me anymore.¡± That was the moment that Fukayasu¡¯s world shattered. Just as she realized how much admired Shiron, she was rejected by that very person, and the pillars supporting Fukayasu¡¯s heart collapsed. When people act on strong desires, they always end up involving the people around them. Desires and wishes that are too strong frequently end up transforming into curses, contaminating everyone else involved. A witch¡¯s curse is infectious. Thus is the magic of a witch. In this previously stable world, only a single witch existed. One time, that witch, caught in the midst of the workings of the world, performed magic to fulfill her wish. The world repeated for far beyond what was normal, and as a result, the world became unstable, allowing for the proliferation of curses. In this unstable world, the oblivious witch wanted to befriend more people and open her heart to others. When people desire something strongly, they end up involving others, whether they like it or not. To be befriended by a witch is to be cursed. And so, the unforgettable curse continued to evolve as it dispersed throughout the world. 6. On Monday, the second of November, Fukayasu¡¯s luck hit an all time low. If supernatural beings like prophets or witches really did exist, then they probably would have warned her to stay inside. (Aizawa¡¯s getting carried away with herself) (So just because she¡¯s friends with Inaba, she automatically gets to join the our social group?) It started during break between classes. The two nobility she normally hung out with, Miki and Saki, were acting strange. They¡¯d probably been talking about something idiotic on saturday. Fukayasu cursed her luck. If she¡¯d met them on Sunday, at least she would¡¯ve known what they were planning. (She¡¯s always so gloomy) (Just ¡¯cause she looks kinda pretty doesn¡¯t mean¡­) Therein lay the problem. Originally, Aizawa had been the unattainable flower. Anyone who tried talking to her would be met with an unshakeable, cold response. However, to Inaba and Inaba alone, Aizawa showed such a lovely smile that many others couldn¡¯t help but wish that smile was directed at themselves. But recently, Aizawa had become more approachable. It would¡¯ve been no problem at all had she continued to shut out the rest of the world, but instead, she began to open herself up and interact normally with others. ¡®I want her to smile at me like that¡¯- endless numbers of students had approached Aizawa with high hopes, only to have their short-lived fantasies dashed and promptly destroyed. To put it plainly, Aizawa had stolen the spotlight from Saki and Miki. (What a boring person) (Are we gonna let her join¡­?) (What does Fukayasu think¡­) (No way Fukaya¡¯s gonna let someone like that join, right?) Idiots, both of you, Fukayasu cursed at them silently. The feeling of emptiness within Fukayasu intensified. I¡¯m the one who has to suffer! Aizawa and Inaba were royalty. Making an enemy out of just one of them would make your life hard enough. But the instant you antagonized one, the other automatically became your enemy as well. I can¡¯t do this, Fukayasu groaned internally. In this place where teenagers undergoing puberty of all backgrounds and philosophies had been gathered, the pit of demons known as a classroom, Fukayasu and the rest of her social group managed to maintain some degree of freedom, to do say what they wanted and do what they wanted to some extent. They were only allowed this freedom because they never broke the peace and followed all the social customs. This was all common sense to Miki and Saki as well. They knew it as much as Fukayasu did. However, the two had lost control of their rationality. They were mermaids among fish, and should¡¯ve been able to swim better than anyone else in this water tank known as a classroom, but they forgot their sense of self, and forgot how to swim. Stop, please, Fukayasu begged inside. I don¡¯t need this on top of Shiron. ¡°I¡¯m going to talk to Fukayasu-san about saturday,¡± Aizawa said to Inaba, getting up. ¡°Ah, I¡¯ll go with you.¡± ¡°Oh, sure¡­ thanks.¡± Aizawa showed no signs of noticing the strange change. Inaba probably sensed something was off. Which is why she didn¡¯t want to leave Aizawa alone. Unfortunately, her sweet considerations were meaningless. Fukayasu and Aizawa¡¯s seats were across the room from each other. Between them were Miki and Saki¡¯s seats. The incident occurred when Aizawa passed through. (Huh?) Inaba¡¯s internal voice cried out. Miki thrust her leg out to the side just as Aizawa passed, clearly intent on tripping her. The tips of Miki¡¯s mouth curled upward into a small smile of contempt. Fukayasu didn¡¯t believe her eyes. You¡¯re acting already!? she wanted to shout. Miki¡¯s solo act may as well have been social suicide. It wasn¡¯t anywhere close to a childish prank. She hadn¡¯t even talked to Fukayasu, who was equal social rank as her, beforehand about her plan. Watch out! Fukayasu¡¯s voice got caught in her throat as she shot out of her seat. Without any time to react, it was evident that Aizawa was going to fall. But Fukayasu could try to cushion the fall, or something, anything! In that frantic millisecond, she met eyes with Aizawa. Or perhaps that was only her imagination And then, an unimaginable deviation followed. Aizawa, her emotionless expression personifying the definition of ruthlessness, stepped on Miki¡¯s leg, trampling it. The ice queen didn¡¯t falter for one second, her frosty eyes not even bothering to look as if Miki was nothing to her. Miki shrieked in pain. The entire class turned to look. Her shriek reverberated through the room, opening a massive hole in the bustling, rowdy conversations of break. (Huh? What was that? Who just screamed?) (Miki-san? That was her just now) (What just happened?) Miki¡¯s body was stooped over and she clutched her leg in pain, her head tilted upwards towards Aizawa. She almost looked like a pitiful slave dangling her head submissively as she quickly averted her eyes. ¡°What¡­ the heck.¡± ¡°Sorry. You stuck your leg out so suddenly I didn¡¯t have time to react, and ended up stepping on it.¡± There wasn¡¯t an ounce of emotion in her voice. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees at once. Miki¡¯s back began to tremble. She shivered, as if her spine had been replaced with ice and it was costing her entire force of will to stop herself from breaking out into uncontrollable shaking. Fukayasu had witnessed the whole thing from beginning to end. Just before Miki had put her leg out, Aizawa had changed her pace. It was¡­ almost like she¡¯d known her classmate would try and trip her, and she¡¯d deliberately stomped on her leg. ¡°Don¡¯t pull that crap with me.¡± ¡°I apologized, didn¡¯t I?¡± Obviously, Aizawa¡¯s apology was just lip service. ¡°Apologize-¡° ¡°You¡¯re really going to drag this on? Are you stupid? Despite the fact that you tried to stick out your leg and trip me? What is this, elementary school?¡± ¡°Why-¡° ¡°¡®Why would I try and trip you?¡¯ Obviously because you don¡¯t like me. That much is clear. If you¡¯re so eager to declare war, that¡¯s fine with me. Let¡¯s get on with it.¡± Finally, Miki broke in the face of Aizawa¡¯s threats. She began to shake uncontrollably. Fukayasu didn¡¯t understand. She couldn¡¯t fathom it. Why? What had prompted the ever-quiet Aizawa to murder Miki in cold blood? ¡°Ayaka, isn¡¯t that enough? You shouldn¡¯t do stuff like this.¡± ¡°¡­¡± Eventually, at Inaba¡¯s chiding, Aizawa released her captured prey. Miki and Saki¡¯s glowered at Aizawa¡¯s back as she walked towards Fukayasu¡¯s desk. Her approaching silhouette blurred. She didn¡¯t look human. Her figure seemed to swell ominously. What was she thinking? (Ayaka¡¯s, angry¡­?) Inaba¡¯s puzzled voice. Aizawa¡¯s cold expression. The mind-reader extended her reach, peering into what lay on the other side of Aizawa¡¯s exterior- but stopped herself a fraction of a second before. Her power didn¡¯t simply read minds. It amplified thoughts, feelings, whatever lay in others¡¯ hearts. If she ventured into Aizawa¡¯s and stirred up whatever lay inside of her, Fukayasu wasn¡¯t positive she would emerge unscathed. In fact, she was almost certain that she wouldn¡¯t be able to bear it. It was an animalistic instinct that warned her against it. Let sleeping gods lie. Dare not to wake her. Dare not to speak of her existence. Even looking at her the wrong way was forbidden. Poking fun at her was taboo. So Fukayasu divulging the contents of Aizawa¡¯s heart wasn¡¯t simply about breaking a rule. It was about avoiding her utter ruin The witch who had saved the drama club stood directly in front of Fukayasu. Panic numbed Fukayasu¡¯s mind, and words refused to form. She stiffened and her pulse quickened. Aizawa, who Miki and Saki were staring daggers at, was at point-blank range. Fukayasu tried opening her mouth. You¡¯re kidding me, Fukayasu thought, realizing her predicament. Her head spun. Forgive me. Please let me go. I¡¯ve suffered enough already. ¡°Hey, Fukayasu-san, about saturday.¡± Sounds came out of Aizawa¡¯s mouth, but it took Fukayasu more than half a minute to understand that they were words. Why did she have to choose this particular moment to talk to me? she lamented. Her throat was dry, incapable of producing noise. The two glares from far away condemned Fukayasu. You¡¯re going to talk to her? their stares screamed harshly. As if they were testing her loyalty. The entire class waited with bated breath for Fukayasu¡¯s next move. After class, Inaba, bringing up some arbitrary reason, promptly told Aizawa to go home ahead of her. It was a cruel move. Just from watching, Fukayasu could see Aizawa¡¯s shoulders droop, and it was at times like these that she looked like an ordinary high school girl. Normally, Fukayasu would never have directly confronted Inaba. In front of others, the two might pretend to get along and talk pleasantly between themselves, but the familiarity that should¡¯ve existed between them was missing. They were in the hallway leading towards the gymnasium. (¡­) ¡°Even I know something has to be done.¡± Before Inaba could say anything, Fukayasu beat her to the punch. Obviously, Fukayasu was talking about the entire stability of the classroom hierarchy. And with just one glance at Inaba, it was clear what she wanted say as well. ¡°Can you talk to Miki-chan and Saki-chan about it?¡± Inaba got straight to the point. ¡°Can¡¯t you do it?¡± Fukayasu hadn¡¯t intended on sounding so dismissive, and she was taken aback at herself. However. ¡°I feel like that might have the opposite effect¡­ you know.¡± Fukayasu reevaluated her impression of Inaba, viewing her with a newfound sense of respect. Without a shred of agitation, Inaba parried Fukayasu¡¯s provocation. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re probably right.¡± Inaba was far too close to Aizawa. It¡¯d be impossible for her to mediate as a third party. No matter what Inaba said, Miki and Saki would assume her words came from Aizawa. (¡­) ¡°But did something happen to Aizawa? She acted pretty uncharacteristically today.¡± ¡°Ayaka¡¯s always been like that.¡± Was Inaba telling the truth? Fukayasu thought about Inaba¡¯s claim, only to be met with a small feeling that something was out of place. (¡­¡­) Reflexively, she used her ability, reaching out to pick out any words from Inaba¡¯s heart. (¡­¡­¡­¡­) Inaba? Her doubts grew, quickly becoming certainty. To prove that certainty beyond a doubt, Fukayasu chose to remain silent. (¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­) It was a clash of wills. Like the game children played, where they stuck their head underwater at the same time, and the first to take it out lost. The more time passed, the more certain Fukayasu was. So Inaba, you¡¯re not thinking about anything? Why not? ¡°I took her to be more mild-tempered.¡± Fukayasu¡¯s tone came out extremely flat. She was truly a terrible actor. No wonder Shiron never invited me to join the drama club, she thought half-jokingly. That was when Inaba¡¯s concentration faltered. For a brief moment, Fukayasu heard Inaba¡¯s alarmed voice loud and clear. (¡­crap! I lost focus!) Caught you. This was definitive proof that Inaba was deliberately thinking about nothing. There was no need to wonder or theorize about why. It was simply because Inaba knew her thoughts were being read, and she had something that she didn¡¯t want others to hear. ¡°She¡¯s just not used to people, so she can be a bit socially awkward.¡± ¡°You call that awkward? She was straight up scary.¡± What was those two¡¯s deal anyway? They both knew things they shouldn¡¯t have known. Somehow, Aizawa had known. She had known about Miki¡¯s cowardly tactic beforehand, about her intentions on tripping her. She had known, but she hadn¡¯t backed down. She¡¯d returned the favor head on. That was probably because Aizawa didn¡¯t have much experience in social groups. She likely wasn¡¯t aware that there were other ways of combating these situations, other than the most obvious and direct approach. Ah. Okay, fair enough. She was certainly socially awkward. But knowing that, Fukayasu couldn¡¯t help but wonder, why? Why hadn¡¯t she quietly dealt with it? Why couldn¡¯t she just avoid Miki¡¯s leg? Aizawa wasn¡¯t an idiot. One glare from Aizawa and Miki would¡¯ve been just as terrified. She probably wouldn¡¯t dare attempt something like that again. ¡°Hey, Natsume-chan. Please, help me.¡± The one talking was a person resembling the Inaba that Fukayasu knew. Her head was bent downward pleadingly, her voice honest without any vanity or pride. She had thrown away her dignity for the sake of Aizawa, who knew neither restraint nor sociability. ¡°Why is it always¡­?¡± Fukayasu heard herself begin. (¡­?) Fukayasu hated it. ¡°Is she that special? Why is everyone so obsessed with Aizawa?¡± ¡°¡­¡± (Huh? Natsume-chan? Why does Natsume-chan care about that?) Everything that had been contained within herself finally came bursting out. ¡°It¡¯s always the same thing, over and over and over. Everyone only acts for their own convenience. I¡¯m sick of it.¡± She remembered her mother. Her parent who continued to selfishly nudge Fukayasu towards an arbitrary future without considering her daughter¡¯s feelings. She remembered Shiron. Her childhood friend who, in a fit of stubborn obsession, tried to destroy her entire club because her ego was too big to handle reality. And now, Inaba, standing before her. Her friend who was pushing her to solve a problem that Fukayasu wasn¡¯t even part of, never wondering if Fukayasu might be against it. ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to, huh? You want me to tell Miki and Saki restrain themselves, right? All for Aizawa¡¯s sake. Well I really don¡¯t fucking want to.¡± Inaba surely didn¡¯t expect to be rejected so forthrightly. Her face hardened and her fake smile collapsed. Fukayasu had never seen this warped side of her classmate before. You might be royalty who has everyone answering at your beck and call for your every whim, but don¡¯t send your dirty work to me. Fukayasu silently prayed as she glared at Inaba. (Natsume-chan. Why¡­ At this rate, Ayaka really will¡­) Again, with Aizawa. Was she really that important? A scornful laugh bubbled past Fukayasu¡¯s lips. She had grasped her enemy¡¯s weakness. ¡°Got it? It¡¯s not my problem. Miki and Saki and Aizawa can continue to fight for all I care.¡± (But that¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s not your problem?) Fukayasu had no intention to mediate. Whichever side won or lost, she watch until the end as a spectator. ¡°Natsume-chan, please reconsider? You don¡¯t hate Ayaka, do you?¡± ¡°You¡¯re acting quite out of character, Inaba.¡± Fukayasu said, cutting off Inaba¡¯s plead. The current Inaba was far too removed from the friend that Fukayasu knew and talked with on a daily basis. ¡°So are you, Natsume-chan. You sound so childish. Did you always hate her?¡± ¡°Fuck off!¡± Inaba tried to approach her, but Fukayasu forcefully shook off her arm. She probably never imagined in her wildest dreams that Fukayasu would raise a hand against her. Letting out a short yelp, Inaba stumbled backwards- if only she¡¯d been knocked down and fallen flat on her back- instead, she stumbled directly towards the concrete steps. Carried by inertia, her body fell precariously backwards. Cold, unforgiving right angles made of concrete awaited her, ready to impale her head. Fukayasu¡¯s heart stopped cold, assaulted by an abnormal pain, while blood rushed throughout her body, agitating every inch of her fiber. Yet. There, a small shadowy figure flew towards the bottom of the staircase. Aizawa caught Inaba¡¯s fall. Well, more accurately, she intercepted it. They were both knocked down, falling flat on their back. It was an awful situation, butt the worst case scenario had been avoided. ¡°Fukayasu-san.¡± The calm, even voice that echoed from below pierced Fukayasu. It was quiet, transparent, and filled with clear murderous impulse. -Making an enemy out of just one of them would make your life hard enough. But the instant you antagonized one, the other automatically became your enemy as well. Two figures collapsed onto the ground as if they were grovelling, and Fukayasu was standing fully upright on her two legs. But in reality, their positions were quite the opposite. Fukayasu had come dangerously close to accidentally killing Inaba. Though she might¡¯ve been standing, her heart was prostrating on the ground. She wouldn¡¯t even have thought it strange if Aizawa walked up to her and murdered her right there and then. That¡¯s why Fukayasu couldn¡¯t help but feel curious. What was Aizawa thinking right now? Obviously, nothing favorable. But exactly how much animosity did she harbor? Nothing was more important to Fukayasu than finding out. In a moment of carelessness, she listened for Aizawa¡¯s voice, a mistake that she¡¯d regret for a long time to come. ¡¶Black¡· Before she could react, Fukayasu was buffeted by a mudslide of thick, viscous emotions. ¡¶An unfamiliar place. A huge building. Mental images will teach you. Playground. Unfamiliar children. They were my friends. ¡®Disgusting¡­¡¯ wasn¡¯t chosen and became nothing¡· Aizawa wasn¡¯t focused on anything. Huge swathes of memories rushed forth. ¡¶An unfamiliar house. A huge house and beautiful furniture. Adults. They wanted me to understand. ¡®You¡¯re a witch.¡¯ That was chosen. The huge empty hole in my heart. Scars that never healed. Numerous nights spent nursing old painful wounds and crying¡· Everything was in vivid detail, as if she was experiencing it firsthand. ¡¶Every place and time, no matter how many times i repeat, the end result never changes. A precious person. A person who disappeared. Alone in the depths of hell. Someone came to save me. Powerless. Fed up with everything, but unable to abandon anything. Millions of yesterdays, and the knife¡¯s tip. Lightning. Someone¡¯s kind voice¡· Crumbling vestiges of memories, almost like Aizawa herself had forgotten them. Like a dream from the night before, which slowly slipped out of your grasp as the day progressed until it became no more. Fukayasu resisted the urge to vomit as she drowned in regret. She had looked at something that never should have been seen. Fukayasu¡¯s tiny, innocent heart was a small boat in the middle a storm, rocking dangerously as wave after wave of black emotion bursting forth from the girl in front of her assailed it. In an instant, the black images devoured every nook and cranny of Fukayasu¡¯s mind and dignity. Without a chance to resist, the small boat was swept away by the looming waves and sunk beneath the ocean¡¯s surface. ¡¶She died. My precious person died. Reduced to a meaningless corpse, but her heart doesn¡¯t move. I should be sad, but I¡¯m not crying. She died again. Endlessly dying. Watching until it makes me sick, the outcome never changing no matter what method I try, continuing to run towards the depths of hell. Continuing to struggle and writhe. -Why do I have to suffer this! The tip of the fruit knife. sharp, comforting, preparing the next iteration. Despair, and despair, and despair, nowhere to run, powerless, with no choice but to repeat, repeating again, repeating and repeating, with no end in sight¡· In the face of the raging storm of desepair and abhorrence, Fukayasu¡¯s mind was paralyzed, like it had sunk to the bottom of the ocean. The life and oxygen was choked out of her, in the dark depths that marked her grave. Fukayasu turned her back and ran. Her heart was a chaotic mess. But it was nowhere near that black storm. She averted her eyes because she couldn¡¯t understand the reality sitting in front of her. Before today, Fukayasu was sure that she had Inaba figured out. The calm, composed Inaba who could get along with anyone. But when tensions flared and a small dispute arose, the peace-loving Inaba somehow ended up as her enemy. What the hell did I do? I should¡¯ve known better. Fukayasu hated herself. But even more importantly, what the hell was going on right now? She got into a small dispute with her quiet, docile classmate. And when she tried to peer into her heart, she found a monster staring back. Who would¡¯ve guessed that beneath Aizawa¡¯s innocent face lived a horrifying beast. What the hell is this. What the hell is this! One week ago, the ¡®How-Why¡¯ incident had occurred. Thinking back now, that seemed like forever ago. At that time, Aizawa had internally defended herself against the accusations. ¡®It¡¯s not my fault. I have nothing to do with her inability to score perfectly¡¯- was it? The realization left Fukayasu reeling in shock. No, Aizawa Ayaka, you¡¯re wrong. It was your fault. You didn¡¯t notice, but the teachers wanted to prevent you from achieving a perfect score, so they intentionally made the test harder. In an attempt to minimize the effect on the average, the very last question of the test had been an extremely difficult problem pulled from a private university¡¯s previous exam. That¡¯s why no one scored full marks. Except you. You probably didn¡¯t even notice it. Trivial matters like the difficulty of test questions didn¡¯t weigh on the mind of someone like Aizawa. For her, tests were routine chores, nothing more than a minor inconvenience. What did it matter if the high jump bar was 1.7 meters high or 1.6 meters high if you were tall enough to easily step over a 2 meter bar? Unfortunately, everything has consequences. As a result of achieving perfect score after perfect score, she robbed the self-confidence away from all the diligent prodigies studying day and night for that coveted perfect score. What good does studying do in the face of a test created for the sole purpose of ensuring no one can score perfectly? Like a natural disaster, one single girl- a witch, had bent reality with her black magic. Witches in old tales called down plagues, caused wars, and ruined harvests. They made milk spoil, compelled children to lie, and made tests more difficult. Her presence alone scattered curses everywhere. Fukayasu was nobility, which meant she was strong. That was her assessment of herself. She wasn¡¯t exactly wrong. She was half-correct. Being nobility didn¡¯t make her any less prone to curses. When all was said and done, she wasn¡¯t so strong after all. Fukayasu didn¡¯t attend class the next day. When she thought about going to school, her stomach hurt and she couldn¡¯t take a single step past the door. After resting for half the day, she went to see a doctor but he didn¡¯t find anything wrong. She spent the rest of the day lying in bed. In an attempt to find something to do, Fukayasu browsed her phone, but shadows of her friends followed her everywhere, appearing in social media posts and direct messages. The normal workings of mundane life were all too bright for Fukayasu, drowning herself in self-loathing. The next day was the same. Though she didn¡¯t go the doctor this time. It probably didn¡¯t have anything to do with the lack of a doctor visit, but that was when the abnormality manifested. She began to hear the thoughts of complete strangers throughout the town, and they refused to quiet down. Her curse didn¡¯t give her a moment of peace. (This month, we sold XXXX products, so next month, we will buy-¡° (Woah woah woah woah woah, someone dropped their wallet¡­ Huh huh huh huh? There¡¯s ten thousand yen bills in here!) (Ribs, roast beef, tongue, tripe, horse meat, and then, and then¡­ I¡¯m drooling already¡­) She couldn¡¯t sleep. When she closed her eyes, she was forced to listen to mind-numbingly boring profit and supply calculations, compelled to stand by idly as a thief got away because some idiot had dropped their wallet, and on top of that, she had no choice but to imagine the delicious aroma of roasting meat and sweet sauce. The cacophony of voices and their shared senses meant that Fukayasu wasn¡¯t allowed to get a wink of sleep. Naturally. Because there was always someone awake in the town doing something. Her curse which let her read others¡¯ thoughts had grown disproportionately large, threatening to devour her entirely. She couldn¡¯t ask anyone for help. All she could do was silently bear it alone. On Thursday, she tried going to school but again, her stomach started hurting like hell, and that was when Fukayasu¡¯s mother became flustered. She made an appointment with a faraway hospital, and drove Fukayasu there at once. Fukayasu watched videos in the waiting room while she continued to hurt inside, alone. Life would continue even without her. The world didn¡¯t change if one person went missing, no matter who they were. The world would feign indifference and move on. There was nothing Fukayasu could do. In the past, Fukayasu had puzzled over that cruelty, that coldness, that mercilessness. How had it come to this? If she could return to the past, she would make sure everything went well. If only. If only she could get just one chance to correct everything. ¡°Is there something about school you don¡¯t like?¡± Her mother asked anxiously on the way back, gripping the wheel. Her mother was concerned for her. That was Fukayasu¡¯s only saving grace, and she clung to it tightly. Fukayasau, sunk deep into her seat, answered. ¡°That¡¯s not it. More like, I had a fight with my friend. Something like that.¡± That definitely counted as something she didn¡¯t like. Coming to the realization, Fukayasu smiled bitterly. ¡°Then apologize before you make things worse.¡± ¡°What if it¡¯s not my fault?¡± Fukayasu asked her mother, who had half her attention on driving. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. But don¡¯t apologize if you think your opinion matters more than your friend¡¯s.¡± Her mother¡¯s words left no room for lies. Fukayasu thought back to Shiron¡¯s right leg. Shiron had made the wrong decision. Fukaysu was convinced. Shiron was wrong, and she was right. But, Shiron was also an irreplaceable existence in her life. She was more precious than anyone else, which was precisely why Fukayasu couldn¡¯t overlook the fact that she had harmed herself. For that reason, Fukayasu would not apologize to Shiron. She had made up her mind already. If Shiron never wanted to to speak to her again, that was her problem. Shiron was in the wrong. So if anything, Shiron should be the one apologizing. Now that she¡¯d clearly put her feelings into thoughts, Fukayasu felt a heavy weight lift from her chest. I¡¯ll apologize to Inaba. And Aizawa. And I¡¯ll forget about the black memories I glimpsed at that time. ¡°Thanks, mama.¡± Fukayasu felt refreshed. She felt perfectly normal, in fact. She had a feeling that everything would go her way starting from now. ¡°Mama, is being a hair stylist really that bad?¡± Fukayasu followed that feeling faithfully. ¡°It¡¯s a difficult path. As your mama, I didn¡¯t want to see you suffer.¡± ¡°I know, Mama, but¡­¡± But it¡¯s my dream. I don¡¯t want to live an easy life. But simultaneously, Fukayasu was reluctant to say it out loud. The girl who could read minds understood what that would entail. After all, once she said it, she could never take it back. ¡°I know, Mama¡­¡± Therefore, she stopped there. Her mother stayed silent, and Fukayasu tensed. Not that she was expecting a quick, favorable answer. However, the silence stretched on. So long that she couldn¡¯t bear the tension anymore. Then, she heard a voice. (Why is she so obsessed with hair styling? I always thought she was a reasonable child) Wasn¡¯t it only natural for children to wish for their parents¡¯ support in pursuing their dream? And for parents, shouldn¡¯t they- ¡°Why can¡¯t you support what I want to do¡­¡± Wasn¡¯t she allowed to ask for something that should¡¯ve been obvious? It was a bitter realization that she had to go this far and plead for something that should¡¯ve been a given, and her words came out in a garbled mess. ¡°Please, I¡¯m begging you, Mama¡­¡± Fukayasu pleaded while tears streamed down her face in an overwhelming display of emotion. How could a mother not be moved at the sight of her admirable daughter who held such great hopes for the future? In this case, words were power. And deriving from the same emotion, one other power was rearing its head¡­ (How do I convince her to give up on her silly idea? Is it even possible?) The power of a witch¡¯s curse. The mind-reading witch, whose power had grown completely out of control, had gained the ability to affect the hearts of others. Unbeknownst to even Fukayasu, the curse had festered and developed within her, and the tendrils of its influence eventually made their way into the outside world. (If she¡¯s so fixated on it, maybe I should just let her do what she wants?) Every word of her mother¡¯s thoughts was clearly audible to Fukayasu. Her mother¡¯s firm resolution against Fukayasu¡¯s plans for the future was rapidly melting. Or more precisely, without the girl herself even realizing it, Fukayasu¡¯s power was melting away her mother¡¯s resolve and shaping it into her own desire. ¡°Of course I¡¯ll support you.¡± (I¡¯m her mother, so of course I¡¯ll support her dream.) The mind-reading witch grew, and acquired black magic that allowed her to control the hearts of others. She could rob others of their free will- no, even worse- she could overwrite it entirely. And without being aware of it, she had used that power. Only now, when it was too late to do anything, did she finally realize. Fukayasu¡¯s greatest desire was forever destroyed. All she had wanted was for her mother to voluntarily support her dream, and now, that desire would never come to pass. When she understood what she¡¯d done, Fukayasu wanted to scream. When they arrived home and Fukayasu got out of the car, the sun was already halfway below the horizon. Fukayasu didn¡¯t enter her house, but began to wander aimlessly away from her home, her legs wobbling unsteadily beneath her. Her legs moved, but she didn¡¯t know where they were taking her. At some point, she realized she was searching for the path from school that she had once shared with her childhood friend. Her pace quickened. She walked past scenes of mundane life one after another, and one after another they all disappeared behind her. The only thing clear to her were the thoughts of others, and they all announced to her that she didn¡¯t belong anywhere in this world. (After I clean the bath, I have to take Coco-chan for a walk, then I have to go shopping¡­) (I¡¯m freezing! I forgot to close my window before sleeping yesterday. I¡¯m so dumb¡­) Fukayasu was aware of someone fretting about walking their dog, and at the same time, that someone had caught a cold. And then. She should¡¯ve been far, far away already, but Fukayasu heard the voice of her mother at home. Her developed curse conveyed to Fukayasu the voice that she least wanted to hear. (Oh dear, what was I being so stubborn for? A child¡¯s life is theirs to decide. ¡­I have to support her) Fukayasu couldn¡¯t bear to witness the reality that she¡¯d forced onto her mother. -You¡¯re so annoying! Shut up!! The witch who could control hearts screamed, and the screamed was heard by the heavens. It was a magic that she put every ounce of her being into. Immediately, the voices all stopped, and she was greeted by a painful, deathly silence. The town, tinged orange from the setting sun, said nothing. The loud, annoying voices that never ended had perfectly and neatly disappeared. Fukayasu realized she was standing on top of the hill. The overlooking hill where she could see the entire town in one look, where Shiron had once proclaimed her grand plan for the future, and now Fukayasu was standing her utterly alone. She couldn¡¯t see a single other person. It was like the world had been destroyed, and she was witnessing the aftermath. As she began to settle into deep thought- ¡°Nacchan!¡± Shiron¡¯s voice called out from behind her. Fukayasu turned around. Along with Shiron, there was the witch herself, Aizawa Ayaka.