As I

put my textbooks in my bag, I thought back to what had happened at

lunch.

Miki

had clearly been acting strangely. I didn't mind the fact that she had

been lying to me. Everyone has things they don't want to tell others.

But why

had she seemed so afraid of me?

Was

there some problem with me? ...Well, it wasn't impossible. She did mention

something about her magic getting less potent. It was clear that something

about me had changed.

But I

didn't know what exactly had changed. In fact, I didn't know what kind

of person I was to begin with.

And on

top of that — I didn't really care.

As I

was standing to leave, the voice of a man I once thought called out to

me.

"Hiiragi,

I have something I would like to ask you. Could I have a moment of your time?"

It

turned out that Akiyama had simply been in poor health on that day. But what

did he want with me now? We'd never held a meaningful conversation before.

Also, I

felt like Akiyama's countenance had changed recently. It was like he hadn't

been sleeping much; his eyes had bags under them, and his skin looked awful.

His eyes glinted with a dim light, and his image had taken a slight departure

from that of an honors student.

"When

he was still with us, would it be correct to say that you were the one who with

the closest with Yahara?"

"Huh?

...Uh, more or less."

"That

must have been a harsh blow for you."

He

probably didn't have any bad intentions, but it was clear he was holding back.

In reality, I was likely only one mourning Masato's death.

Upon

realizing that, I finally understood.

Masato's

homicidal aspirations were the real deal, and he had every intention of

carrying them out.

So ever

since he died, I had been contemplating what the largest thing keeping

him from committing murder was. Was it his conscience? His morals? His

antipathy? Fear? The effect it would have on his future? After thinking about

it, I realized that it was none of those. Anything within him that held

him back would have simply be discarded if he fell into despair and abandoned

himself.

So

there had to be something outside of his heart that kept him from killing.

Namely, his environment.

If

someone committed a crime, their family would face repercussions as well. Even

if he was a minor, his name would eventually come out, and the internet would

expose the location of his house. And rather than receiving sympathy, the

a.s.sailant's family would be treated as jointly responsible. You could easily

imagine such a thing happening.

Masato

wasn't so unimaginative a person as to ignore what would happen to his family,

nor did he lack a sense of empathy. He wasn't some natural-born serial killer.

So

Masato took it upon himself to create it. An environment where he could kill

without regrets. A world filled with nothing but enemies and strangers.

Of

course n.o.body would mourn his death in such an environment.

"And?

What was it you wanted to ask me?"

"Ahh, I

simply couldn't help but take an interest in Yahara's incident."

"Out of

curiosity?"

"No,

more like out of a sense of justice. I felt like there had to be something I

was capable of doing."

I felt like Akiyama's words

sounded rehea.r.s.ed.

"I

wonder, was it true that Yahara was involved in some rather unwholesome

affairs? Well...I refer to affairs in the broad sense, by the way. Perhaps that

alone makes it not unusual he was involved in this incident. There were various

things published about him in those periodicals, weren't there?"

Although

their authenticity was dubious, a number of magazines had published articles

about how Masato was abusing stimulants, involved in the prost.i.tution of

minors, and was affiliated with an anarchist organization.

I didn't know how best to answer

that, and Akiyama drew closer in response to my silence.

"Were

you completely unaware of all that?"

"I

knew about the stimulants. But he never mentioned anything about any gangs or

prost.i.tution rings or anything. He didn't show any signs of being involved with

them, either. I'm pretty sure that's all just misinformation."

In

order to prepare the environment for his murder, he likely intimated himself in

things like that intentionally.

"Perhaps

you weren't close enough to Yahara to involve you in things like that? Are you

saying that he never to bring you into his group of delinquent companions?"

"Pretty

much. He didn't involve me in sketchy stuff like that. He never even ate lunch

with me, let alone tried to get me to smoke or anything. If we were around each

other we'd chat, if the timing worked out we'd walk home together. But he

definitely never tried to coerce me, and he never invited me anywhere. That was

about the extent of our relations.h.i.+p."

Bringing

up the one time he called me out to that park late at night would be

misleading, so I felt it would be better I not bring it up.

"I'm

sure that if I ever stopped wanting to spend time around him and started

avoiding him, he wouldn't have so much as spoken to me."

"I

see..."

His

expression seemed somewhat dissatisfied. Had he been hoping I'd say

something different?

...What

had he been hoping for?

"So,

why do you ask?"

I had a hunch that Akiyama didn't

really want to hear about the incident. An odd feeling caught on my mind.

Putting

his hand on his chin, Akiyama answered.

"I

suspect that the reason that Yahara was killed was the fact that he was

sticking his hand in dangerous places. Following that reasoning, I felt it was

possible that you, as his friend, might be in danger of meeting a similar fate.

Am I mistaken?"

I see. So my sense of unease was

because I had the hunch that he was more interested in hearing about me

than about Masato.

"In

fact, I was thinking—"

"—that

it would not be so strange for you to be killed as well."

What

was that?

I just had the oddest sensation.

Far

beyond any of the unease I had been feeling up until now, it had

bordered on outright discomfort.

"...What

makes you s.p.a.ce out so?"

"I,

I'm not-"

Akiyama

furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Well,

I can hardly blame you for being a little out of it after having something like

that happen to a friend of yours. You have bags under your eyes."

The

fact that he had bags under his seemed to be lost on him. Was Akiyama also

plagued by something related to Masato's death? Was that why he was asking me

all this? But if that was the case, what would he, who got along with Masato

about as well as dogs got along with cats, have to worry about?

The

unease got stronger. Something was off.

As I

pondered such thoughts, I heard a loud, rude voice.

"Oy, is

Akiyama around?"

Peering

through the door was, for some reason, Yamazaki. The man who had been hara.s.sing

me and Miki the other day.

I wouldn't have thought Akiyama

would willingly spend time with a person like Yamazaki. In fact, he grimaced

more than he had during our whole conversation.

"I'll

see you later, Hiiragi. Do be careful, now."

Raising

his hand uncomfortably, Akiyama turned his back on me.

"Um,

are you okay? That senpai isn't forcibly dragging you around or anything, is

he?"

"Hm,

well... He isn't exactly doing me any favors by coming to my cla.s.sroom like

this, but... It's no cause for concern."

Akiyama

walked briskly to where Yamazaki was waiting. After exchanging a few words,

Akiyama lead the two of them out of the cla.s.sroom.

Everything

about this was suspicious. But Akiyama wasn't looking for help, so I had

no way of getting involved. And besides, I didn't particularly want to

get involved, nor did I want to help him.

Masato's

body had been discarded deep in the mountains. The autopsy found the cause of

death to be a stab wound in his chest. The body was about a week old when it

was discovered, so the crime was estimated to have been committed somewhere

between May 25th and May 28th. The fact that Matsumi couldn't get reception on

Masato's information on June 2nd corroborated that. The range on reception was

this city, and by then Masato wasn't in this world, let alone the city.

The

investigation was also going poorly. First of all, they didn't even know where

he died. On top of that, his acquaintances were largely unknown, and it was

difficult to narrow down who might have had a motive. The group he had been

interacting with hadn't even known his name.

The

last person to interact with him, a female company worker, gave an anonymous

interview about him calling out to her near a subway station. She claimed that

he had been acting oddly, saying things like "I'll kill you." That was what

lead to the inference that he was using some manner of stimulant.

But

that wasn't it. I had seen firsthand how he had begun acting strangely

in response to Matsumi-senpai's scanning.

The

ma.s.s media had also gotten fixated on the idea that he might have intentionally

put himself in some sort of dangerous situation. But if Masato had fallen into

despair to the point of taking suicidal actions, he would have killed someone

instead. I had grasped Masato to the point of being sure of that.

Masato's

murderous impulses wouldn't have been directed at himself. Only people who saw

life as cheap wouldn't differentiate between killing themselves and others. And

the high value Masato placed on life was the reason he longed to kill in the

first place.

So

getting killed certainly wasn't part of Masato's plan. Perhaps the killer was

someone he knew, someone he didn't expect?

If

nothing else, his killer was an amateur. After they disposed of the body in the

mountains, it was found relatively easily. And they didn't even bother making

it look like an accident or a suicide, which lead to it being investigated as a

murder and the subsequent autopsy.

I was on cla.s.sroom cleaning duty,

and my musings kept me from finis.h.i.+ng until it was rather late. Miki had been

dragged off by some friends and had already returned home.

I headed for the front gate

alone. The throngs of reporters, who had been crawling all over the school when

the incident first came to light, had more or less dispersed.

If I

had to compare, it seemed that the world at large was much less concerned with

the details and perpetrator of Masato's death and more with criticisms of his

life. However, the fact that Masato was a victim wasn't under dispute, so most

of the major news companies recognized that Masato may not have had any direct

involvement in the case and weren't focusing much on his circ.u.mstances. That

meant that most of the people still gathered in front of the gate were

journalists from gossip magazines of questionable repute.

"...Excuse

me."

Someone

called out to me from behind. Although I initially thought to ignoring

them, thinking that they were a member of such a publication, I

eventually turned around after realizing that the late hour made it unlikely

that the question would be of that tone.

Before

me stood a girl from another school. Her face was plain, and she didn't make

much of an impression. She bore a dark expression, and her eyes repeatedly

glanced for side to side. But as if by habit, her mouth alone was upturned.

"Is

this... the school where Masato Yahara went?"

"It

is..."

"It is,

isn't it..."

On that

note, she trailed off. There was clearly a follow-up question, but he was

hesitating.

Thinking

that perhaps I had met her before, I observed her face, but I had

no recollection of her.

"Sorry

to bother you. That's all I wanted."

In the

end, she never gave her follow-up. Looking downwards, she quickly left.

What

was that? Was she an acquaintance of Masato's or something? Even so, she was

acting rather suspiciously...

Tilting

my head at the bizarre encounter, I gazed at the female student. Then

suddenly, a small back that I did remember appeared next to her.

Ririko

Matsumi.

That's

it! Matsumi-senpai might know something about the incident!

With

that flash of inspiration, I ran after that small back.

"Matsumi-senpai!"

Matsumi-senpai

had taken some sort of interest in me, so she would probably greet me with a

smile. At least, that was what I expected.

"..."

But not

only did she not turn and smile at me, she didn't turn my direction at all.

Even when I got close enough to stare at her, she just kept plodding on

slowly and ignoring me.

"...Senpai?"

Thinking

that perhaps she hadn't noticed me, I tapped her on the shoulder. As a

result, she finally saw me. But her deadpan expression didn't change.

I then remembered how

Matsumi-senpai had collapsed and began vomiting after reciting the information

from Masato's scanning. Perhaps she hadn't fully recovered yet? Or maybe she

was angry at me for backing away from her before I eventually set her

free?

As if

she had truly turned into a machine, Matsumi-senpai gave no signs of life.

"Senpai,

it's me. Kouta Hiiragi."

"......hm."

At the

sound of my name, she finally gave a slight response, slightly raising her

eyebrows.

"Hii...ragi?"

"That's

right! I'm Kouta Hiiragi! I have something I wanted to ask

you!"

"Hiiragi...

The white Hiiragi..."

Although

Matsumi-senpai was staring daggers at me, her eyes seemed like they were out of

focus.

"No."

"Huh?"

"No.

You're not Hiiragi."

"What

are you talking about, Senpai? Of course I'm Hiiragi."

But it

didn't look like Matsumi-senpai even head my reb.u.t.tal. Looking away from me,

she resumed her plodding.

I wanted to stop her, but decided

against it due to her strange demeanor. One way or another, it didn't look like

I'd be able to communicate meaningfully with her.

I sighed heavily.

Was she

simply an "apparatus" after all?

Unable

to hold back my laughter, I looked up.

Once I

did, I was met with a surprise. Standing right next to me with eyes wide

open was Akiyama.

"Huh?

What are you...?"

"Are

you and Ririko Matsumi close?"

He was

asking rather intently.

"I

don't know about close, but we've talked a few times."

Akiyama

gazed at Matsumi-senpai's receding back. His expression was clearly warped with

disgust. His hatred for Matsumi-senpai was quite evident.

"Um...

did you finish helping that blond senpai?"

But instead

of answering my question, he returned with one of his own, the disgust never

fading from his face.

"Do

have a habit of getting involved with people like her?"

"'People

like her'?"

"Forgive

my wording, but people with problems. Ririko Matsumi, Masato Yahara, and

perhaps we should count Miki Kouzuki as well."

"It's

not like I'm intentionally hanging out with weird people..."

"But

you're awfully close to a number of them. And you don't seem to be particularly

close to anyone else."

He said

such rude things so casually.

"I

mean, it's true that I don't have many close friends..."

"And

you say that you don't seek those kind of people out deliberately? If that's

the case, then perhaps you hold some sort of fascination from their

perspective?"

Irritation?

Or maybe it was impatience? As Akiyama continued prattling on, it became more

and more clear that something about him was off.

He

seemed to realize this, and quietly exhaled while calming his expression.

"I

apologize. It would appear I've said some rather untoward things. Please forget

I said any of that. I guess the incident has just made me a little

high-strung."

Akiyama

spoke.

"I'm

worried about you, Hiiragi."

Again.

It was

happening again.

That

strange sensation.

"What

do you mean by 'worried about'?"

"Hmm? I

mean that I'm worried about you getting caught up in this incident, of course.

What else might I mean?"

Thinking

about it logically, no other meaning made sense.

But I

knew.

This

man didn't care at all about my well-being.

He

hated me, and was on high alert.

It was

all a deception. The expression he was twisting his face into, one of outspoken

concern, was nothing more than a mask.

Akiyama

was concealing his true nature. Or perhaps he wasn't aware of it.

But I

could see his filthy, corrupt true form, like a swamp of illegally dumped oil.

Ahh, I

finally understood why Masato hated Akiyama so much.

Akiyama

was like Masato's opposite. Masato had turned his back on the world. Whereas if

necessary to traverse the world, Akiyama would readily use others as stepping

stones.

"What's

the matter?"

Akiyama's

smile was warped. No, his expression was the same as before. But even if it

hadn't changed, once you knew his true self the connotation changed. If you

peeled off a single layer of his skin, his evil nature would be plainly

visible. Although up until now I had thought of him as nothing but a

simple intellectual, I could no longer sense anything from those

bespectacled, slit eyes but cold-blooded evil. If it was for his own sake, this

man could commit any crime while still thinking himself pure.

It was

like an optical illusion. Once you had looked under the facade of an honors

student, you couldn't see him any other way. You stopped being able to see him

as anything but cruel and self-righteous.

His

smile was a sneer. His sympathy was cajolery. His kindness was wiliness.

"...I

have to get going."

I left Akiyama, practically

fleeing.

This

was the first time I had felt this emotion.  I had never harbored

this emotion towards myself or towards another. And what's more, it was strong

enough to make my head throb dully.

I was perplexed. I

couldn't believe that I, of all people, could feel this way.

But I

was certain of it.

I—

—despised

Shuuichi Akiyama.

"So,

like, the sky above the hot spring was twinkling like crazy. We'd heard that

there were a bunch of fireflies nearby, so we figured that it was fireflies got

really excited, but it seemed kinda unnatural so then we realized that it

wasn't. So, what do you think those lights were?"

As

planned, I paid Miki a visit at her house on Sunday.

I suspected that her room would

be ominous and packed with magical paraphernalia, but I was completely

off-mark. Although her bookshelves did feature a number of books on magic, the

room was painted a uniform white. If anything, it seemed a bit plain for a girl

of her age, sacrificing stylishness for a wholesome atmosphere.

On a

similar note, despite Miki's gorgeous looks she never wore makeup, and the

plain clothes she was wearing were casual and not conspicuous in the least.

"Would

you believe it! Those lights were the flashes of smartphone cameras! Apparently

some boys got a room above the open-air bath, right, and they were having

themselves a photo shoot! They're the worse! And what's worse, now those dumb

boys have seen my soft fair skin! You don't have a monopoly on it any more! Oh,

I feel so sorry for you! And to think how my chest and such swelled at the

thought of you eventually being the first one to see me naked! ...Ah, but

there's some good news on that front! When that happened, I had a towel firmly

wrapped around my chest! And we all lived happily ever after!"

I felt like the room and her

outfit didn't really mesh with her boundlessly bubbly personality.

She was

putting no small amount of effort into consciously manufacturing that

personality. I had initially been tricked by her audacious conduct, but

in reality she was quite shy. If she couldn't get a decent read on the other

party, she tended to freeze up. Along those lines, the reason she hadn't

immediately approached me when school started up could have been that she was

trying to carefully examine me first.

But why

would she go so far to create that bubbly personality?

Thanks

to her amiability, she could get away without being hated despite being seen as

a weirdo. In order to receive that benefit, I a.s.sumed she was

intentionally making use of her smile.

Did this

too have something to do with Miki being a magus?

"...Kouta,

you aren't listening to me, are you?"

Miki

puffed out her cheeks cutely.

"...Sorry.

I had something on my mind."

Normally

that would be the end of that line of discussion, but Miki pressed her lips

firmly together. Worrying that I had killed the mood, I said

"sorry" again.

After a

little while, Miki spoke in a low voice.

"Those

eyes, they're awful."

"Huh?"

"They're

awful, it feels like they're a.n.a.lyzing me."

With a

serious look on her face, Miki went on.

"I

mentioned this before, but Kouta, you're getting worse at taking in my magic.

Do you have any idea why?"

"Umm...

is it because I've grown accustomed to it, maybe?"

"That's

not it. The reason you're not taking in my magic well is because of the extent

to which your attribute has changed. Someone other than me started staining you

with their attribute. That's why my magic can't reach you. ...You know who that

is, right?"

"Not

really..."

"You

weren't conscious of it? ...Well, I guess that makes sense. Self-consciousness

isn't really something you're capable of. You yourself don't know what kind of

person you are, so you wouldn't have any way of noticing changes. Then I should

put this clearly. Kouta, you're becoming stained in Masato Yahara's attribute."

"Masato's...?"

"It's

to a pretty severe degree; you're already starting to think kinda like him.

That's what those a.n.a.lytic eyes are expressing."

"But,

Masato's already dead. There's no way for him to influence me. Why, after all

this time..."

"To the

contrary, it's like it's because he died... Here, let me explain. Right

now, you're evoking him."

Another

new word sprung up.

"You're

making a face like you don't get it. But it's like, you don't want to forget

about him, right?"

"Of

course I don't."

Everyone

would soon forget about Masato. Without even trying to, even his parents would

likely forget he had ever existed. Masato didn't have any human connections.

That was the environment he himself crafted.

Which

meant that if I forgot about Masato as well, he would truly disappear

from this world. He would disappear without a trace, as if he had never existed

in the first place.

That's

why I spent so much time thinking about him. So I could still

stand face-to-face with him.

"You

want to remember him so badly, you're calling him to your side. That's what

evocation magic is."

"Hold

up a second. If I can use magic, doesn't that kinda mean that I'm taking on your

attribute, Miki?"

"It

doesn't. I told you that anyone can use magic, remember? And I told you that

you had magical talent, right?"

She had

mentioned that.

"If you

took on my attribute, you'd be able to comprehend and master magic. But that

and just being able to use are two totally separate things. For example, Yahara

was a powerful magus. But he couldn't control it. Magic is like a chained beast

- it can lash out at any time. I don't know if Yahara knew how powerful his

influence was, but it looked like he tried really hard to keep other people

from getting involved with him..."

In a

way, him minimizing his influence was probably connected with him creating an

environment in which he could kill.

"You

know, Kouta, you have a talent for mimicry. In fact, I've never met someone who

could imitate people as precisely as you. You don't just copy their attribute,

you copy their capacity as well. I guess it's kinda like being able to copy

someone's results just by copying their batting form? That gets across how

amazing it is, right? And it get across how insane it is too, right? ...So I

realized that I had to split you two apart so you couldn't use that monstrous

magic of his."

Even

without processing it through the lens of the value system of, I could

tell that continuing to spend time around Masato was dangerous. So I

understood why she had been so worried.

Kouta,

you've already completed the first step of evocation, which is creating an

artificial astral body. ...Um, to put it in a way that's easier to understand,

you created a firm 'image' of Yahara himself in your head. Am I wrong?"

She...

wasn't wrong.

The

image I had of Masato in my head was developed enough for me to hold a

conversation with him.

"Normally,

that 'image' won't do anything. When an author keeps images of their characters

in their head, the worst that'll happen is they'll come across as a bit odd.

But your 'image' of Yahara is, regardless of your will, going and acting on its

own. It's leaking into the outside world. You can tell if you just look."

Without

thinking, I stared at my hand, but of course nothing about it was any

different from normal.

"That

'image' of Yahara is trying to entrench itself in you in order to exist. After

you evoke it, it'll possess you. Your barbarous name[1] - it's like an

incantation, but if he learns it, and speaks it, you won't be able to stay

yourself any more."

So, in

other words the kind of thing a psychic would refer to as "possession"?

"...What

should I do?"

As far

as I was concerned, not having been aware this was happening in the

first place, I didn't much care what my image did.

But I

knew that Miki saw this as a huge problem and wanted to stop it. And I

wanted to help her to the extent of my abilities.

"You

don't have to do anything, Kouta."

Miki

pursed her lips, displaying her resolve.

Her

entire body was giving off energy, and it felt like she was at the center of a

swirl of light.

"I'll

stop it for you."

Miki

moved her hand behind her head. Her hair fluttered gently, filling the room

with the smell of shampoo. My first, out-of-place impression was that her hair

was surprisingly long when she let it down. She had unfastened the red hair

band that always held up her ponytail.

Why was

it, I wondered, that her eyes were fixed in place at if she had been hit

over the head with a log. Was she trying to perceive something? Was she trying

to appeal to me? As a result, I couldn't get my thoughts straight. I

just stared at her dumbfounded.

While I

was stunned, Miki drew her face close to mine. Extremely close.

Huh?

I couldn't even let out a

surprised voice.

Because.

Miki's

lips were blocking mine.

As if a

switch had been flipped in em, my thoughts forcibly ground to a halt.

The

image in front of my eyes felt like something far off, something unrelated to

me. My sense of reality vanished, as if I had been sucked into the other

side of a television.

But the

sensation was still there. Miki's lips were soft. They felt nice.

Miki drew

away.

As the

pleasant sensation faded, the implication of what had just happened finally hit

me.

That

was a kiss.

Miki

kissed me.

The

moment I realized this, it felt like explosions were going off inside my

head. Like a baby that couldn't hold its neck steady, my bobbed about

frantically. My eyes were having trouble focusing on Miki, who was right beside

me.

"You're

still shaking. I made you shake. Now it's fixed."

Simply

seeing those lips move was bewitching, and I began to feel dizzy.

Meanwhile,

Miki fastened the red hair band she had removed from her hair around my left

wrist. It made a sharp sound as it snapped tight.

Snap.

That

noise echoed inside my head as if I were standing in a gigantic hall. The The

pain from the snap wasn't just in my wrist, it spread throughout my entire body

in tandem with a certain sense of comfort. As the pain diffused, suddenly my

swelling head felt as though it were deflating. My head, which had been on the

brink of boiling from the heat before, felt like it had been suddenly thrown in

the Arctic Ocean.

Was I

back to normal?

"Miki...?"

"I'm

sorry."

Perhaps

thinking that my soft utterance of her name had been a rebuke, she went on.

"I know

this wasn't fair, but I couldn't think of any other way. I couldn't think of

any way to save you without using magic. Even if you didn't want me to, I had

no choice but to do it by force..."

"Magic...?

That was magic just now?"

"Yeah.

I'm really sorry."

I see. That wasn't a kiss just

now.

She was

just putting our lips together.

I was overcome with surprise. I

didn't know what to think of it. I didn't really mind that she had used

magic.

But I

was beset upon by an unfamiliar emotion.

I didn't know what "it" was. It

felt similar to a blend of rage, sadness, dejection, exasperation, and

disappointment, yet it was different. One thing was certain, though. "It"

wasn't a pleasant emotion.

"Kouta,

make sure you don't take off that band, okay?"

Not

having reached a conclusion regarding my emotion, I glanced at my left wrist.

"That's

a charm containing my full-strength magic. If any fate tries to influence your

will, this will definitely change that fate for the better."

From

the looks of it, it was the same as any other hair band the shops nearby would

sell. But I could feel it tightening not just on my wrist but deep, deep

within me.

"Can

you feel it? Then I guess maybe I didn't need the warning. You shouldn't be

able to remove it by your own power."

There

was no way that was possible. Let's try taking it off, shall we?

"......Huh?"

...It

was no good. I couldn't do it. ...And for that matter, I didn't

want to.

I knew that I was at least

physically capable of removing it. But I was oddly reluctant to. Even if

I knew logically that the work required to do so could hardly be called

work, it felt like I were being sent to a battlefield and was hardly

inclined to go. It didn't feel like I was being compelled not to,

removing it simply seemed tiresome. I couldn't be bothered to.

So this

was Miki's magic. So it was capable of doing this much.

"It's

not like I could just do that to anyone. I was only able to do it to you

because of how much time we've spent together."

Miki

should have been glad that her magic worked, but instead she looked almost

depressed.

"...Let

me give you an excuse, at least. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to.

If it was anyone else, I wouldn't have even considered it."

She

wasn't lying. I could tell by her expression. Miki held me in good

favor, and I likewise.

But in

the end, that kiss was for the sake of magic.

If she

hadn't had that reason, it was something she couldn't have done.

"Sorry,

Miki. I'm going to head home for the day."

Her

face going white, Miki grabbed my hand as I stood to stop me.

"I'm

sorry. ...I'm sorry!"

"Don't

get me wrong. I'm not mad at you, and I don't hold you in

contempt or anything. If anything, I thought that was pretty Miki-like

of you. But if we're together any longer today, it'll just get awkward. So I'm

going to head home. That's all there is to it."

Upon

hearing that, Miki softly let released my hand. But she didn't look relieved,

and she didn't lift her eyes from the ground.

She

probably realized it as well. That our relations.h.i.+p couldn't possibly continue

in the same way as before.

Without

uttering another word of rea.s.surance, I headed for the door.

"Can I

just ask one thing?"

Miki's

lips were trembling pitifully.

"You

don't hate me now, do you...?"

But

when I heard that, the last of my sympathy vanished.

"You

don't have to worry about that. But—"

My next

words might be unkind. But if I didn't say them, I wouldn't able

to settle my raging emotions.

"I

have to wonder, why do you spend so much time confirming my feelings without

voicing your own even once?"

Taken

aback, Miki's eyes widened as she tried to keep her mouth under control.

I was never wrong when it came to

inferring other people's emotions. Normal people make sure conjectures through

the lens of their own value system, distorting the result, but because I

had no such filter I could make accurate evaluations.

But for

whatever reason, my sensors seemed to be amiss when it came to Miki.

Miki

held no romantic feelings towards me.

I had been under the

misapprehension that she felt something similar. But she had just told me quite

clearly that she didn't.

The

reason I was mistaken was because she did harbor affection

towards me. But it was likely similar to the emotion one would feel towards an

abandoned puppy. Miki was a kind person, so if she saw an abandoned puppy she

would probably take it with her against her better judgement. She would then

become emotionally attached to it, and in return for her affection it would

probably come to love her.

But the

world had no shortage of abandoned puppies.

There were

plenty of people who could replace me.

I hadn't realized. At some point,

I had come to expect things of her. I felt that if anyone could

locate my nonexistent contents, it would be Miki.

"I

won't avoid you or anything like that. If you talk to me, I'll talk

back. If you come visit me, I'll be happy. I would never come to

hate you. I know just how nice of a person you are, Miki."

But I

had to say it.

"But

let's not play at being lovers any more. We're different people, after all."

I wasn't just talking about Miki.

My family was other people. Masato was another person. No matter how close we

were, we were different people. People were all in confined worlds created by

their own value systems. Worlds that other people could never enter.

"But if

we do that, Yahara will-"

"It's

not your fault, Miki. It's mine. Of course it is."

I spoke as if to interrupt her.

Perhaps my voice came out a bit loud.

"Later."

I left her room.

Miki

was likely on the verge of tears. I was extrapolating from experience.

But

that might not be true. After all, I hadn't known the first thing about

Miki.

I was scared to confirming it, so

I didn't turn around.

If she

hadn't been tearing up but instead smiling, I wouldn't know what to

believe any more.

But

that was the magnitude of the misunderstanding I had made. If I

had kept going out with Miki after that, a conclusive contradiction would have

been born. One that couldn't be taken back.

So I

put an end to our farce of a relations.h.i.+p before that could happen.

In the

end, Miki's actions might have ended in failure.

After

all, she made me aware. Aware of the fact that I was under Masato's

influence.

A

negative chain reaction had started. The domino effect. Once one piece fell,

the paradise we had so miraculously constructed all came cras.h.i.+ng down.

Another

corpse showed up at the school.

I had no idea how long this chain

reaction would continue. But there was one thing I did know.

"...Kou,

can you hear me?"

Even

"I[2]" would be a target of that negativity.