In a pure white void and empty of everything with an alphanumeric characters floated in the air like scattered notes.
There was no bed where I'd fallen asleep, and I stood rigid, like a scarecrow planted in the middle of nothing.
Then the scene shifted.
Because of him—a man who matched the fortune teller's prophecy and description perfectly.
"Don't be so on guard… or maybe that's asking too much."
His antenna-like ahoge, stark white, swayed once before he gave a wry smile.
He looked approachable enough, but the sheer pressure rolling off him made even Ryuuen seem tame by comparison. I couldn't relax for a second.
Yet something else bothered me more.
His hairstyle was completely different, but that face was identical to his.
"…Who are you?"
I stepped back and forced the question out through a tight throat.
The man smiled, clearly willing to talk.
"I'm #######."
His words glitched.
I thought he was messing with me, but he frowned, touched his throat, and tested his voice as if genuinely confused.
"…####. They still consider it erased."
He stared seriously into empty space.
Even I, still on high alert, followed his gaze. Nothing there.
"Don't worry about it. It's my problem."
He dropped the grim look and offered a warm, easy smile instead.
"I'm not your enemy. You really don't have to be so wary."
He laughed as he said it, but I couldn't trust him at all.
His voice was eerily similar to Kamukura's—to his.
The friendly tone didn't suit that usual low register at all, yet the face was the same.
I exhaled heavily and asked again.
"Are you… Kamukura?"
"I'd love to just say #####, but… sorry, mind if I take the long way around? I can't ##### a direct explanation."
It wasn't a joke or a pun.
The sound itself was wrong. Whenever his voice distorted, the direction of the sound shifted, like speaking through a cheap, crackling microphone.
"I and #####, ########… You could even call us ##### person ######. Not #######, though… Damn, the filter's strict."
He pressed a hand to his forehead.
I couldn't help offering a lifeline.
"If it's hard to say, why not use gestures?"
"I'd love to, but movement's restricted too. Anything related gets blocked, so gestures won't answer your questions either."
He waved his wrist, tilted his head, made an O with his fingers—perfectly free motion—but apparently useless for explanation.
Suspicious didn't even begin to cover it.
"So what are you, exactly?"
"…Former Ultimate #######. An existence that ######## this world… This is tricky."
He folded his arms and thought.
"…A bystander of the world. Oh! That one works."
He grinned, pleased.
No static that time. But—
"Bystander of the world?"
What did that even mean? I didn't get it at all.
"It's not exact, but it's the closest I can manage right now."
He nodded to himself, satisfied.
I still couldn't process any of this.
Where was I? What was this place? If it was a lucid dream, that was its own problem. I needed to figure it out fast.
"I wasn't supposed to be able to ######… make contact like this. But a rift opened between you Ibuki and #######, #####."
"A rift? What are you talking about? And how do you know my name?"
"Because I was watching, obviously."
He smiled faintly.
Watching? Watching what? My guard went up another notch.
"#####… No pronouns either. Anyway."
"I had my own reasons to think about it, and the incident involving Ibuki—the one with the highest ######, #####—gave me an opening."
"The unstable rift that created let me reach you."
Still nonsense.
The vague answers were starting to seriously annoy me.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
"What I want to say is… a request."
"A request?"
I tilted my head. He began to explain.
"I can't easily reach this world because of a forceful ######. So I entrusted it to ######."
"When the true history and this world's history merge, I need someone to watch so they don't ######## absolute #######."
"And along the way, I wanted ######## to learn more about people—about emotions."
"…?"
My blank stare made him laugh.
Then his entire body glitched.
The distortion paused for a moment, then flickered again—slow, like a dying light bulb.
"…Shit. If it's lasting longer than I expected, that means ######### is still there."
"Hey! Don't just decide that on your own! What's going on?"
The static changed too.
It shifted from words trying to break through into the black snow of an old broken television.
His expression turned deadly serious.
"Sorry, but this is as far as we go."
"Wait—"
I poured strength into my legs, lunging to close the gap.
But before I could, he raised his right hand to chest height and held it there.
That simple motion froze me in place, like sleep paralysis.
"What… is this…"
"You're the closest one in this world. So hurry up and ####### it."
"Make… up…?"
The world began to collapse.
Everything in front of me darkened.
The white void crumbled like cheap scenery, swallowed by black.
Black static flooded my mind.
Screams mingled in the noise, twisting into voices.
I saw it—an evil woman's smile, torn and jagged.
I heard it—a woman's voice thick with pitch-black malice.
The white man leapt toward despair.
—Take care of me. Take care of him.
Amid the chaos, one clear sentence cut through the noise.
Somehow, I understood it perfectly.
…
"…What was that?"
I bolted upright in bed, upper body only.
Hands to my head, checking for anything wrong.
My hair was soaked with sweat, but otherwise I seemed fine.
The dream was crystal clear—no gaps in memory.
I scanned the room.
Familiar walls, my usual phone, the bed I'd been sleeping in—everything was there.
"Did that white man… protect me?"
After stopping my movement, he'd charged straight at that horrific thing.
Just remembering it made me shiver faintly. My brain screamed to stay away from that.
But thinking of the white man calmed the trembling. Strange.
I'd felt something like it once before.
The same terrifying presence Kamukura gave off when he cornered Ryuuen.
"…Weird dream."
I stood, straightened the tangled sheets.
Unusually vivid. I even remembered the dream character's request.
Make up. The other person was obvious.
The fortune teller had given me the trigger. The white man had given me encouragement.
Both completely unscientific sources of confidence, but it was time to stop being stubborn.
"Kamukura will be at the pool too, apparently. Let's settle it today."
Decision made, I headed for the shower.
I needed to wash off the sweat.
My preparations were already done—no rush. Short hair meant quick drying.
Plenty of time before the meet-up.
I calmed myself, got ready at a steady pace, and left the room with margin to spare.
…
I reached the meeting spot. A few classmates were already there, but I hated crowds, so I waited a little apart.
Ryuuen had picked a spot near the entrance of a large pool complex close to school.
The reason we were going on the last day of summer break is this huge facility opened to the public only on that final day.
Normally it was reserved for the swimming club.
Far bigger and grander than the school pools used for classes, with food stalls set up for the occasion.
Luxurious changing rooms, space enough for the entire student body.
Perfect for one last summer memory.
"Ibuki-san."
Someone called from a short distance away.
Only one person would. Shiina.
She wore her straw hat low, radiating refined calm. Sun protection on point.
"Thank you for coming today.
I actually hadn't planned to, but Ryuuen-kun invited me to make some memories, and I ended up saying yes."
"Good. As long as you're enjoying yourself."
"Let's both make some good memories, Ibuki-san."
"Yeah. School starts tomorrow—I'll cut loose a little today."
We smiled at each other.
I checked the time. Almost the hour Ryuuen had set.
I didn't plan to get too cozy, but I drifted closer to the group.
Nine of us total, including me and Shiina. Ishizaki at the center, clustered so we wouldn't bother anyone else.
Probably Ryuuen's favorites, high-ability students, or total pawns.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
Ryuuen approached from behind.
Albert loomed beside him as usual, playing bodyguard.
Ryuuen wore sunglasses and a loud aloha shirt.
But no one was looking at that.
There was something far more eye-catching.
"…Ryuuen-san, what's with the leash?"
Ishizaki voiced what everyone was thinking.
Albert held the cord, pulled tight.
We all traced it to the end.
"Don't mind it. Just making sure the idiot doesn't run."
There—Kamukura, the leash looped around his waist.
Clearly dragged here against his will.
"Let's go."
Ryuuen counted heads and strode into the facility.
Albert and the tethered Kamukura followed.
The rest of us brought up the rear.
Quite the odd procession—especially the front three.
We walked straight to the changing rooms without stopping.
"Do whatever you want from here."
Ryuuen said that and disappeared into the men's side.
Albert and Kamukura followed, so we headed into the women's.
"It's huge. So many lockers… and showers over there too."
Shiina's eyes sparkled while I moved toward a locker farther from the group.
I reached for my clothes to change quickly. Even among girls, I didn't like exposing skin.
"Ibuki-san, you really do have a beautiful figure."
Halfway through changing my top, Shiina—who'd somehow closed the distance—spoke up.
Being studied like that made me uncomfortable.
"Stop staring at my body and hurry up and change already."
"That's true, but it's a rare chance to see someone else's body like this, so it'd be a waste not to look."
Pervert. The completely serious expression on Shiina's face shows no trace of impure thoughts, which somehow makes it feel all the more real.
As I start taking off my underwear to change into my swimsuit, Shiina bends her knees and crouches lower.
"Your body line really is beautiful. Your abs are nicely toned too. Mind if I touch?"
"N-No way in hell!!"
I step back from Shiina as she reaches out with both hands, waving her away.
She finally gives up and starts changing herself.
In the meantime, I finish putting on my swimsuit and slip into my rash guard.
"I'll be waiting outside."
"Yes, understood."
Shiina changes slowly.
Maybe because she never exercises, her skin isn't tanned even a millimeter—it's smoother and more lustrous than mine.
The black-and-white polka-dot frilled swimsuit suits her perfectly.
Her bust is just a little bigger than mine... no, we're about even. Definitely even.
I feel myself getting a little heated, but I push down the competitive urge and leave the changing room.
"Oh, you're fast at changing, Ibuki."
Just as I'm about to complain about the blazing sun, a voice calls from the boys' changing room.
I turn with my arms crossed, and there's Ishizaki approaching with a big wave.
His build is a bit unbalanced, but you can tell at a glance he's packed with muscle.
Since he's not in any sports club, he must train on his own.
"You showing up here is pretty rare. Why'd you come?"
"What's with that tone? Is it weird for me to be here?"
"...Ah, sorry. Didn't mean it like that. I was just curious 'cause it's unusual."
Ishizaki panics and apologizes.
I know. I was only teasing him.
He's an idiot, but he's not the type to say things that hurt people for no reason.
He's just clumsy.
"Because Shiina invited me."
"Huh, that's rare too. Shiina hates exercise, doesn't she?"
"She said she wants to make memories. That's why this is her first time at a place like this."
"I see. Then we gotta make sure she has fun."
No lies from this idiot.
The words come straight from the heart, completely unfiltered. He's so easy to read.
"We're planning beach volleyball after swimming—wanna join with Shiina? Everyone's there, and even Ryuuen-san's playing."
"...Honestly, the last part makes me not want to go, but it depends on Shiina. And by 'everyone,' you mean Albert too?"
"Yeah. But Albert will probably hold back just right."
Ishizaki flashes a proud, completely open smile about his friend.
The gender ratio today is almost 1:1.
If everyone plays, Albert's raw power would overwhelm even the trained guys like Ishizaki—no chance for the girls.
But that worry is probably unnecessary.
Albert doesn't like conflict to begin with. He looks like he's always in fights, but in reality he always acts like a gentleman.
He'll surely do the same in beach volleyball.
"By the way, Kamukura-san's the referee. If he's on a team, that team wins every time."
"...Yeah, figures."
Kamukura can crush even Albert without breaking a sweat. Fair call.
Yet Ishizaki is grinning happily about someone who completely breaks the balance of a team sport.
He praises him so enthusiastically—he must really admire Kamukura's strength.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ishizaki! Let's hit the pool already!"
Two guys come out of the changing room.
Komiya and Kondo—the pair that's always together.
"Beach volleyball's over that way."
Ishizaki points out the spot and heads off with the other two.
I watch for a bit afterward; once they confirm no one's around, they cannonball into the pool.
Water splashes everywhere, and an upperclassman on lifeguard duty scolds them.
Such noisy idiots.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
Shiina arrives wearing a straw hat.
She carries a small bag with sunscreen, her phone, and other essentials inside.
"Look at this, Ibuki-san."
She shows me what's in her left hand.
A light-blue-and-white object—deflated, but huge.
"That's one hell of a big float, Hiyori."
The answer comes before I can speak, from the leader of three burly guys emerging from the boys' changing room—Ryuuen.
"Ryuuen-kun, thank you so much for inviting us today."
Shiina says it with genuine gratitude.
Albert and Kamukura are behind him. Looks like Kamukura's "leash" is finally off.
"I invited you, but I honestly didn't think you'd show. You either, Ibuki."
The casual way he lumps me in irritates me, but I hold it in.
"Because Shiina said she wants to make memories. That's why I'm here."
"Memories, huh... Then come with me, Hiyori. I'll teach you the proper way to have fun in a pool."
"No way I'm leaving that to you. Who knows what you'd pull."
He's wearing sunglasses, so I can't see those ferocious eyes.
Sure, Ryuuen's probably good with girls, but I can't let him sink his fangs into Shiina.
"Kuku... then you come too, Ibuki. I'll put you in the best mood."
"Hard pass. Just looking at your face already pisses me off—anything more is impossible."
He lifts one corner of his mouth in a savage grin.
It feels like pure intimidation, and I click my tongue.
"That works. Then let's all go around together."
But Shiina, completely unfazed, barrels forward at her own pace.
With willpower that rivals or even exceeds Ryuuen's, she drops the bombshell.
"Right? It sounds way more fun that way."
She's smiling brightly, full of excitement.
Thinking about that smile disappearing makes it hard to say no.
"That's what she says. What're you gonna do, Ibuki?"
Ryuuen asks in a mocking tone, clearly enjoying my conflicted expression.
He knows I can't refuse. So damn irritating.
"...Fine."
"It's settled, then."
Plan decided.
Well, three intimidating guys should work perfectly as guy-repellent for Shiina.
In the end, this turned out pretty well.
As long as I keep an eye on Ryuuen, we'll probably be fine.
"Ryuuen-kun, I want to inflate this float—how do I do it?"
"There's an air pump over there. Go use that."
"I see. Then I'll go inflate it. Please wait here."
Shiina jogs off toward the spot Ryuuen indicated.
It's fairly crowded, so it'll take a while.
—All right, then.
I steel myself and look straight at Kamukura.
He notices my gaze and meets it calmly.
Still that same blank expression. He's not wearing a rash guard—just black swim trunks.
So his perfectly sculpted body is fully on display, almost toxic to the eyes.
But that ridiculously long hair also demands attention. My eyes have too much to take in.
"...Oi, Albert. Come with me."
Ryuuen clicks his tongue and orders Albert.
The direction he's looking is the air-pump area where Shiina went.
I glance over and immediately understand the tongue-click.
Several figures are approaching Shiina while she waits in line.
From their builds, definitely upperclassmen from a sports club.
Ryuuen looks annoyed yet somehow pleased. He doesn't run, but he strides over quickly.
Without meaning to, Kamukura and I are left alone.
"So we don't have to wait anymore."
His eyes are a deeper red than pure crimson, locking onto me steadily.
He seems to see right through my feelings.
Kamukura moves only his eyes, prompting me to follow.
I do, and we shift from in front of the changing rooms to a quieter shaded spot.
"Your expression changed."
"Maybe."
I let out a deep breath, then slowly extend my right hand toward Kamukura, index finger pointed as if showing him the way forward.
"I can't forgive you."
The words come out strong, carrying everything I've been holding in.
"I can't forgive you for not telling me about a strategy that was built on the assumption of failure."
"I can't forgive you for treating me like a disposable pawn just to win the exam."
Kamukura's face stays completely blank.
Those red eyes remain locked on me.
"To keep the plan from being detected. To conceal the true objective. To maximize the odds of victory.
No matter how many reasons there were, no matter how logically perfect it was—I can't forgive you for never apologizing."
The poor girl who got used. The awful guy who used her.
The woman whining about the optimal path to victory. The man who flawlessly delivered that triumph.
It all depends on how you look at it.
Right or wrong—none of that matters.
"I can't forgive you."
My voice rises without meaning to.
There aren't many people around, but I don't have the spare attention to care.
"Is that your final conclusion?"
"Yeah. But this is... just my conclusion. Mine alone."
"Yours alone?"
A question. Rare coming from Izuru Kamukura.
I lower my hand and step closer, closing the gap one slow step at a time, almost like drawing near in comfort.
Before I know it, less than a meter separates us.
"I heard what you really think. You don't need trustworthy allies or friends. You don't feel those kinds of emotions. —But you were still thinking about me, weren't you?"
"That's correct."
This isn't about romance.
It's about whether what we both did was right or wrong, good or bad.
—Kamukura was right.
He carried out the strategy needed to win the exam and made it succeed.
But he completely disregarded what it would cost me.
In other words, it was reasonable, but not considerate.
Whether it was good or bad—that's decided here and now.
Not by anyone else.
Only the two of us can decide.
And we both agonized over it.
"A person with truly no emotions wouldn't agonize at all. So you do have emotions."
Kamukura narrows his eyes.
I drive straight through the contradiction without mercy.
"You just don't know how to recognize them, do you, Kamukura? Or in your own words—you lack the talent for understanding emotions."
"I possess that talent in abundance.
I am Izuru Kamukura. A human endowed with every talent that exists.
Back then, I gave everything to secure victory and led Class C to triumph. There were no flaws in the strategy."
"I'm not asking to hear about your title or the results."
An emotional argument is fine.
Let everything out, then bridge the gap from there.
I don't understand people's hearts. The way to understand is to lay our true thoughts bare and talk.
Speaking your true thoughts is frightening—it risks wounding something invisible, like feelings or the heart.
You might accidentally touch a dangerous place the other person never wanted exposed.
"What did you really feel back then? What did you think about the disadvantages I'd face because of the plan? Tell me."
But if the prize is trust, the risk is worth taking.
Trust is something that normally can only be built over time. Since this isn't the proper way, we clash instead.
"Tell me exactly what you thought. What you felt."
Kamukura's blank expression doesn't change.
He closes his eyes once, thinks, then answers.
"I thought it was unavoidable."
"...So you really just don't know."
I clench my right hand.
Then I swing with everything I have and slap Kamukura across the cheek.
A clean, sharp smack rings out.
He takes it without trying to avoid it. No stagger, no flinch.
"Good. Now we're even. You didn't understand how friends are supposed to feel. That's why you made one angry. But you've just paid the price for it."
"...Boring. That's far too simple a resolution."
"If you really believe that, I'll give you another."
I glare hard.
There's no collar to grab in a swimsuit, so I force down the tension building in both fists.
I rein in the restless energy with pure reason.
"When someone you thought was close betrays you, it hurts."
"That's the correct emotional response."
"This time it wasn't exactly betrayal... but it still hurt."
"...I understand."
"Then why didn't you discuss it with me beforehand?"
"...Because maximizing the strategy's success took absolute priority. I believed that was right."
That's what Kamukura says.
There's probably no lie in his current words. He truly did put the strategy's success first.
If that's the case, why did he agonize afterward? Why has he carried it this long? Why not a single apology?
—The answer has been there all along.
Izuru Kamukura doesn't know emotions.
It's not that they don't exist. He has them.
He simply doesn't know how to sense them.
The moment analytical thinking begins, it's as if a chunk of memory vanishes—he erases both his own emotions and everyone else's.
A profoundly warped existence. Like someone raised in an environment designed to make him forget how to feel.
"If you genuinely can't forgive me, then do whatever you want to me right here and now. You have every right."
Kamukura relaxes his entire body, assuming a completely natural stance.
A presence that seems impenetrable, yet so unguarded that a fingertip could topple him.
He's offering himself up, prepared to accept punishment. I don't know if it's out of guilt. But I choose to believe it is.
"It's already over."
I understood how Kamukura felt back then.
He didn't understand that people can get hurt—and even knowing it, he felt nothing about it.
Everyone reacts differently when someone fails at something they've been taught. But no one gets angry over something the person genuinely didn't know.
What you don't know, you can learn starting now. You study it. You turn failure into fuel.
And I already have the heart big enough to forgive that kind of ideal.
Then there's only one thing left for him to do.
"—Apologize. If you do that, I'll forgive you for all of it."
I hold out my right hand for a handshake.
It might be an outdated gesture for making up, but the form matters.
Kamukura's eyes widen just a fraction. Seeing that rare movement in his expression, I let a faint smile show.
"...A single apology is truly enough?"
"That single word is the most important part."
"I could fake it perfectly. Tone, intensity, resolve—I can produce whatever expression you want.
A mere apology is meaningless. I could deliver it effortlessly."
"...You're being so roundabout."
I grab Kamukura's unmoving right hand and force it into mine.
"I've decided to forgive you. Have you? Surely the ultimate genius isn't incapable of saying 'I'm sorry'?"
He stalls, piling on rationalizations.
I complete the clumsy handshake just for the sake of form.
"I..."
He hesitates.
But then—
"—I'm sorry."
He says it clearly.
This is the conclusion we reached together.
"Now there'll be no hard feelings left."
The knot in my chest finally loosens.
Making up is far better than dragging out this strained relationship.
I've learned that a single trigger can let us move forward.
"Was that really the right choice?"
"You're still asking? I already decided to forgive you."
Kamukura releases my hand.
He brings both of his own up to chest level and stares at them.
"...Boring. It wasn't supposed to end like this."
To Kamukura, reconciliation with me was probably an inevitable outcome.
He must have grown tired of futures where people inevitably come to rely on him.
Yet now, faced with this unexpected ending—he lifts the corners of his mouth in a faint smile.
"Ibuki-san. Kamukura-kun."
Shiina calls out to us.
Ryuuen stands behind her in high spirits. Looks like he successfully drove off the would-be flirts.
Albert has the huge float slung over his back.
"Let's get moving already."
We start walking toward the three of them.
I glance sideways at Kamukura—he's already back to his usual sullen expression.
But somehow it feels familiar, like something I haven't seen in far too long.
***
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