Volume 1 - CH 2.3

3 – July 13th (Thursday) – Two days ago

The rain continued into the next day.

Haruki gazed blankly out the window of her classroom, waiting for the period before lunch break to start. According to Kei, the rain wouldn’t stop until late that night, and would start up again before tomorrow morning. Tomorrow was the day that the cat was supposed to die, which meant he would have died in the rain. Perhaps that was nature’s way of mourning him.

She turned her eyes to Kei. He was messing around with his cell phone, probably keeping in contact with Nonō Seika.

They had been exchanging messages in between every period. She must have skipped school, given how frequently she was checking up on the cat. As far as Haruki knew, the cat had still been alive before last period. Originally, the cat wasn’t supposed to be in any danger until tomorrow morning, but it was very possible that his fate had changed due to their reset. Whether it was Nonō’s ability, Murase Youka’s influence, or even buying some cream puffs, anything could have made a difference. They couldn’t make any guarantees.

Speaking of Kei, he looked rather cheerful. He was probably feeling much better today. After all, there was only about an hour till lunch break, and then Haruki could save again. As long as things went well for just one more hour, their chances of saving the cat would skyrocket.

Haruki genuinely wanted the cat to be okay, because if anything were to happen to him, Kei would surely blame it on himself. The fact that the cat would have died anyway would be no consolation to him.

Haruki saw Kei tuck his phone into his pocket, and immediately got up and walked towards him. But Nakano Tomoki made it there before her. She had no choice but to stop short.

“Did you hear about that hole in the wall?” Nakano Tomoki asked Kei.

“A hole?”

Haruki watched Kei’s face as his eyes narrowed. He was so deep in thought that his expressions changed without regard to his surroundings, and something about the look on his face concerned her, but she couldn’t put it into words.

Nakano Tomoki continued, waving his arms and carrying on. “Weird, right? They say it happened yesterday afternoon. We’ll call him witness A. So, A is walking home from school, and the sunset is shining directly onto the road. Just close your eyes and imagine that for a second, with the humid summer air sticking to your skin, everything dyed red in the evening light.”

Whenever Nakanon Tomoki tried telling a long story, he always had a way of making it sound incredibly phony and cheesy.

“Well, that’s not enough to stimulate my imagination. Was this like a main street, or a back alleyway or something?” Kei’s expression had reverted back to neutral now that Tomoki was waxing eloquent, but Haruki knew that he was interested, since he wouldn’t ask such a specific question otherwise.

“It was on Kawarazaka street. Evidently it’s a pretty upper-class area. But even the pure white walls lining the street were covered in red that afternoon.”

Kawarazaka is located just southeast of the school. There’s a consistent gentle slope from the school’s property in that direction which eventually reaches a low mountain. A river courses around its base, and just as Nakano Tomoki said, the area is filled with fairly large and elegant housing. That mountain is Spirit Mountain, the one recently being brought up again in local rumors.

“So, A was headed straight home, with no detours. I bet he lives in that area. Must be nice to be rich. Actually, now that I think about it, rich people seem to be hated on a lot more than poor people, purely on principle. Kinda weird how easy it gets to hate people based on such simple factors.”

“That got kinda bleak there.”

“I know, right? But there’s a lot of bleak stuff like that out there. It feels like there’s a lot less happiness in comparison. And it’s like, you gotta be careful what you’re looking for, cause if you’re not paying attention, you’ll never find happiness…”

The conversation ground to a halt. It was hard to tell if Kei was in agreement with Nakano Tomoki, but he cut through the silence all the same.

“So, uh, what was that about a hole?”

“Oh, yeah, that. So, A suddenly gets a really bad feeling, like someone was staring at him through the wall. Then, when he turns to take a look…”

“There was a hole in the wall?”

“Yes, in the perfect shape of a hand. A could clearly make out all five fingers. It wasn’t big enough to be an adult’s hand, it was smaller, about the size of a child’s. And when A recalled his morning commute to school, he knew for a fact it hadn’t been there the first time.”

Nakano Tomoki was certainly trying to tell a horror story, given his wording and tone, but it utterly failed to scare.

But, although it was a strange story, it wasn’t entirely unbelievable. After all, in Sakurada, the land of abilities, anything was possible.

“Then, just as A was beginning to feel unsettled, the hole slowly began shrinking before his very eyes, and-”

“And the hole suddenly closed, right?”

Suddenly, Minami Mirai stepped in to close out the story. She had appeared next to Nakano Tomoki without anyone noticing. Nakano frowned as his spotlight was suddenly taken from him. Haruki was left completely unmoved by his attempt at a scary story.

Completely ignoring the contempt emanating towards her, Minami addressed Kei with, “So, whadda ya think about that, Asai-kun?”

“I think that if that story’s true, then I wanna know the ability behind it.”

“Whaaat? C’mon, the whole hand shape deal just reeks of a ghost story! I bet even Misora was creeped out, weren’t you?”

Haruki had no intention of joining the conversation, but since she was asked, she answered honestly. “It must have been a very polite ghost, since it had the consideration to fix up the wall.”

“Ooh, good point! That would make the area much safer for investigation. That’s a really constructive point of view.”

Having her sentence so violently mangled made Haruki realize why Kei chose to deal with Minami the way he did. As such, she followed in his footsteps and chose to completely ignore her. Minami continued on, as if acknowledging that she never cared about getting a reply in the first place.

“C’mon, it’s so close to Spirit Mountain! It’s like God himself is telling us to go on a vampire hunt tomorrow!”

Kei looked like the life had been drained out of him as he plopped his chin into his hands. “Since when do vampires make hand-shaped holes in walls?”

“Well, if you didn’t introduce new characteristics, then legendary monsters would just get boring over time.”

“And making holes in walls is the best way to make vampires interesting?” Nakano Tomoki fired back. It seemed even he was aware of how mundane the story was, despite getting so into telling it earlier.

“Well, it seems to me that the obvious call is to go vampire hunting tomorrow. You coming with, Misora?”

No. Absolutely not.

Tomorrow was the day of the cat’s accident. And yet, despite knowing that the cat was supposed to die before noon, they still hadn’t even located him.

And even putting all that aside, Haruki already had plans for tomorrow. She was going to go buy a hair ornament. After all, the festival was on Saturday, and if she was going to use last year’s yukata, then she wanted at least one new way to freshen up her look.

Haruki looked to Kei.

“I’ll go with you if nothing else comes up,” he replied. He hadn’t told Haruki about any vampire hunting before their reset, so it was likely that he was trying to stall for time so he could eventually turn her down.

Still looking at Kei, Haruki sidled up to him and whispered, “Was the hole in the wall new information?”

Kei nodded. “Mhm. I’ve never heard of it before, I swear.”

He wouldn’t lie to her. Probably.

So he had never heard of this story before their last reset. Why? What changed to bring this about? Haruki wasn’t sure, but she knew that alterations in the timeline would be more than enough to hold Kei’s interest.

“Sharing secrets, are we?” Minami asked, smiling and tilting her head.

“Yes. That was a secret,” Haruki replied. Since she was already facing Minami, she made a follow-up question. “By the way, do you know what a MacGuffin is?”

She more or less asked on impulse. Minami knew the ins and outs of all the legends and rumors surrounding Sakurada, so she may very well know about that one too. It was worth a shot.

But as soon as the question left her mouth, she realized her mistake. She didn’t know about the MacGuffin yet at this point prior to their reset. In this situation, she was probably supposed to ask a different question, or say something else. She hadn’t even vetted the question through Kei.

What if this one question could change all of their futures?

Haruki looked at Minami Mirai. Minami looked back. Some kind of emotion flashed onto Minami’s face, but was gone just as quickly as it came. Was she feeling nervous? Haruki wasn’t even completely sure she had seen it right. Maybe Minami was just confused by a word she had never heard before. Kei would probably have known what it was. He was so much better than Haruki at reading faces. You might call that a benefit of having a perfect recall of every expression he had ever seen on every person.

Nakano Tomoki ended up speaking before Minami. “What’s a MacGuffin? Never heard of it.”

Minami’s expression had normalized by the time he was done speaking. “Yeah, what he said. Want me to ask my senpai in U-lab? If it has to do with the occult, then I’m sure one of them knows something.”

If she did that, then she’d no doubt be acting differently from the original timeline. Although the danger of timeline discrepancies were part and parcel of a reset, and Kei was willing to accept that risk, Haruki had done as she pleased without regard to Kei’s judgment and foresight. Who knew what could happen as a result?

Haruki looked at Kei.

He could no doubt sense the meaning within her gaze. He gave her a small, comforting smile, before turning to Minami and answering, “Then please do.”

✽

“I am so sorry,” said Haruki.

“Don’t be. This is actually really good for us,” Kei responded. He wasn’t just saying that, either. Perhaps it would be worth taking advantage of a post-reset world in this instance, instead of constantly sweating the details. He was curious about the MacGuffin, and Minami Mirai was just the right person to ask, given that she knew how to ask around and was privy to info that other regular high schoolers may not have. Ideally, they could have asked after a save, but what was done was done.

The two were on lunch break, sitting together in their usual spot atop the stairs. As usual, they sat outside the locked door, having never set foot on the roof. Kei took his phone out to check the time as they opened up their bentou boxes. There was about 10 more minutes until they hit the 24 hour mark from their last save, and the sooner they could save, the sooner Kei could finally relax.

Just as he was slipping his phone back into his pocket, he received a call. Checking the display, it turned out to be from Nonō. He answered on the second ring, “Hello, Asai here.”

“I can’t sleep,” Nonō responded, her voice heavy with sorrow.

The situation was only to be expected.

Nonō’s ability to share consciousness with a cat only worked when she cleared her mind and removed herself from her own consciousness.  The best way she knew to do that was sleeping. She had been calling every hour with new information, which meant she had been taking short naps in between each call. Of course she would be awake and alert.

“It’s the middle of the day, so the culprit’s probably out of the house anyway. Just take it easy for a while.”

“No, I know that somebody’s there. But somehow, he’s still able to sleep well despite having been kidnapped. Not to mention I still haven’t seen the kidnapper’s face, since every time I try, the connection cuts off again.”

Her story solidified two pieces of evidence. First, whoever took the cat didn’t attend any kind of work or school. Second, they most definitely had the ability to cancel out other powers, and seemed to keep it activated at all times. But why keep it up all the time? Was it impossible to turn off, or was there a reason to keep making sure it was active?

“Either way, I still can’t sleep, so you gotta help me,” Nonō said.

“Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Not a bad idea, but I want something different right now.”

“Well, just tell me what to do, and I’ll do anything I can.”

“I appreciate it.”

He could hear her tired smile on the other side of the phone.

Kei still didn’t quite understand Nonō Seika’s connection to this cat, but it was clear that she was really putting herself out there for his sake. If he asked, would she be fine with admitting, “He’s just a cat,” or would she despise that very thought? If he had to choose one, Kei would prefer the latter.

“So, is there something you want me to do?”

“Just keep talking.”

“About what?”

“Anything you can, just to pass the time. It doesn’t matter what about, as long as it makes me sleepy. Make it as nonsensical as you like.”

That wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Kei thought it over for a moment, then asked, “What are your dreams for the future?”

After a brief pause, she answered, “Keeping the status quo. After saving this cat, of course.”

“I don’t think it’ll be very easy to keep the status quo for long when you’re just a high school student.” Whether they liked it or not, in just a few years, they’d be thrust into the outside world. Their environment was subject to drastic changes in the near future.

Nonō responded in a bored voice, “Real talk sucks, do something else.”

In turn, Kei decided to shoot for the unrealistic. “If you were reincarnated, what would you want to become?”

Nonō considered her answer for quite some time. Finally, she answered in a languid tone, “I know, I’d be a really big tree.”

“Why’s that?”

“So that a cat could climb in my branches, and look far off into the distance. I would watch with them, and the taller I was, the farther they could see. It would just be me and them, in a peaceful world, enjoying the sunshine.”

What a beautiful desire. Her happiness resonated within her words. It was the kind of stable, reliable happiness that everyone was always searching for.

“But, if the tree is too tall, the cat may not be able to get back down.”

“That’s okay, too. I would protect the cat. I’d be a real big tree that grows delicious fruit. It would be a paradise just for the cat.”

“Cats like to eat fruit? I thought they would prefer fish.”

“They all have their own favorites. Some like fruit.”

“But you’d get sick of fruit if you had it all day, every day.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right.”

“It really would be best to make a way for the cat to get down.”

“Yeah. How about I wrap vines all over my body, to make it easier to climb? Then, when the cat’s done eating, he could take their time coming down. He would be safe, whether he was having a good day or a bad day.”

“That’s a pretty great tree.”

Nonō gave a chuckle so slight that Kei could barely make it out. “You know, you’re pretty good at talking nonsense.” Then in long, drawn-out words, she asked, “Kei, what would you want to be reincarnated as?”

“I’d choose to become God. A god that doesn’t give people difficult trials, and that trusts humanity. I’d give bread to the hungry, and happiness to those who are sad. I’d like to spend every day doing that kind of work.”

Perhaps it was less because Kei was a humanitarian, and more because he was egotistical, but if possible, he’d like to be in a world without sorrow. “And then, just for you and the cat in your branches, I’d put a big rainbow across the sky.”

Kei knew that humans could never presume to be gods. He knew, and yet he desired to live that kind of life all the same.

Nonō spent plenty of time mulling over her words before finally giving her response. “Were you one of those sad people once?”

Of course he was. Nobody lived a life without sorrow. And Kei carried every sorrow with him, more so than anyone else. Right alongside the girl who had died two years ago.

“If you ask me, the world has too many of those sad people in it.”

Nonō didn’t say anything for quite some time, and Kei couldn’t find the words to continue, so he sat in silence with her.

Finally, she spoke, in a quiet whisper. “I saw him, just a little. He’s still safe.”

“That’s good.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll call again later.”

Kei hung up, and looked at his phone’s display. 12:58. He watched for a while, till it ticked to 59. He spoke to Haruki, who had been staring at him as he talked with Nonō.

“Time, please.”

“Of course.” Haruki took out her phone, and tapped it three times. She read out the time. 59 minutes, 10 seconds, 11, 12…”

Just before she said 13, Kei said, “Save.”

Haruki responded just a moment later. “July 13th, 12:59:15.”

Listening to her speak, Kei tried to remember the last five minutes. Memories of talking on the phone with Nonō sprang to mind.

“It appears we haven’t reset yet.”

Kei always made sure to recall the last five minutes following a save, to systematically figure out when they had reset.

Haruki gave a gentle smile. “In that case, it’s time for lunch.”

Finals ended in early July, so most of the regular classes were already finished with their material. Even so, the students had to attend their classes at their set times, like good high schoolers, so they ended up with mostly self-study in their afternoon classes. Their homeroom teacher set a chair down opposite of the lecture desk, and sat reading a book. It was the size of an average paperback, but a book cover obscured the title.

Kei stared listlessly out the window into the rainy afternoon, thinking about the incident from two years ago. He considered Nonō’s story of a tall, paradisiacal tree, gazing out into the great beyond. It reminded Kei of the rooftop he always visited during middle school. And just like that, he was there.

In this memory, Kei was standing on the rooftop beside Haruki, waiting for that girl to arrive. Every now and then, she would be the last one to make it up there. And so, they waited.

The Haruki he saw was a little shorter than she was at present. But Kei had also grown in those two years, so their relative heights were about the same. Her hair was also much longer, and her face carried much less emotion.

Back in their second year of middle school, Haruki Misora was, to put it simply, a strange girl. She was simple, pure, and intensely rational. Kei had thought of her as something like a mathematical formula, designed to perform one consistent function.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” said the Kei of his memory.

“Which part of me, exactly?” If Haruki ever came across something she didn’t understand, she would always ask about it right away. It was a level of sincerity he greatly appreciated, but doubted that many others did, even herself.

“Every part of you, all that makes up Haruki Misora. But, if I was forced to narrow it down, I’d say it was your way of thinking and personal philosophy.”

“I don’t understand the word philosophy very well.”

“Then you should look it up. A wise person recognizes where they fall short, but only a fool chooses to stay in ignorance.”

“Is it problematic to be a fool?”

“Depends on the person, but if you’re wise, then you can be a problem solver. I prefer smart people, myself.”

“Understood,” Haruki nodded. Immediately, the conversation broke off. That was the type of girl Haruki was. If there was more to say, he was free to speak up, but it didn’t bother her to stay quiet, either. Simple as that.

Kei decided to continue. “Something’s missing inside of you, Haruki.”

“What exactly would that be?”

“A part of you that would make you human.”

“If I’m missing something, then where’s the piece that will complete me?”

“Where? Well, I’m not sure that I could tell you where to find it.”

“I don’t understand. I am a human. Moreover, I don’t believe that you could find any perfect humans to use as an example, you included.

“Well, you certainly are human, that’s no lie. But you’re still missing something. You can cut an apple in half, and it’s still an apple, right? Yet at the same time, an entire half is gone. You’re like that.”

Kei almost continued, but stopped himself. He was going to explain what parts of himself were missing to make a comparison, but he ultimately decided that would be pointless.

He instead continued with a general statement. “You aren’t wrong, everyone’s missing something. The world probably doesn’t have any perfect humans.”

Haruki’s head tilted slightly. “Then, if everyone is missing something, doesn’t that make missing something the standard form of a human? From what you’ve defined, nobody is more or less human than anybody else.”

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but Kei shook his head regardless. “That’s not the issue. I’m not talking about what the average human is like. At the end of the day, I think what you’re missing is something more significant.”

“What is it that I am missing?”

“What do you think it is? I want you to give it some serious thought.”

Haruki paused, but it didn’t last long. As usual, she defaulted to a quick answer. “Emotions?”

Kei shook his head once more. “I would have thought that at first. It’s a really easy answer for you, and easy to believe when you don’t think about it. But I don’t think it’s true. You do have emotions.”

“I do?”

“Do you not believe me?”

“I believe you, but everyone else has told me over and over that I don’t. On top of that, I’m unable to prove the existence of my own feelings.”

“That’s the same for everyone else. It’s a nearly impossible task for anyone in the world to logically prove that they have feelings.” Kei stared directly into Haruki’s eyes. “I think the idea that you have to logically prove your feelings is one of the proofs of what’s missing in your way of thinking and personal philosophy.”

Haruki’s eyes stayed steady, with no observable changes. No wonder people thought she had no emotion.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Haruki replied.

“Do you want a different explanation?” Kei asked.

Haruki slowly shook her head, “No. I don’t really care. I probably don’t have any emotions after all.”

“There!” Kei clapped his hands. “Just then, some kind of feeling came up from the inside of you, didn’t it? Sadness, resignation, disappointment, maybe even slight superiority. Any one of those is perfectly normal. You can’t call that emotionless.”

For the first time, a flicker seemed to pass through Haruki’s eyes. “…Yes. You’re probably right.”

Kei nodded, trying to affirm her with all he had. Hopefully, she could understand that.

“Haruki. You don’t think that you’re special. That’s what you’re missing. You’ve probably never considered this, but most people think of themselves as unique, or even all-important. For almost everyone, it’s unconscious yet instinctive. You, however, don’t think that you’re special. So since you’re not special, you have no special emotions, and if you don’t have those, you don’t have an identity. It’s to the point that you think you need to establish a logical process to prove that you even have feelings.

There are plenty of words that someone could choose to describe your peculiarities. But I’ll tell you what I think. You, Haruki Misora, are balanced. Other people warp and distort their thoughts and values as a matter of course, but not you. Perhaps you’re not perfectly balanced, but you’re the most stable person I think I’ve ever met. But as a result, you can’t even see what it is that makes you special.”

In an unusual turn of events, Haruki thought over his words for a long period of time. Eventually, she came out with, “I have a single question for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Why are you thinking about me so much, Asai Kei?”

Kei smiled. His intentions were easy enough to read, but he wouldn’t tell. Instead, he flipped it around. “Try thinking about me, Haruki. You just might find your answer there.”

After another pause, she nodded with an, “Understood.”

With that, their conversation was over.

The two of them stood together in silence, waiting for the other girl to arrive.

And with the chime of the school bell, Kei was pulled back into the present.