Chapter Text
“Hoshino-san, you’re having lunch alone again?”
I raised my eyes. It was Chisato, the new girl — she’d transferred to Ohtori a couple of weeks ago, and she’d taken an interest in me. I could understand it: I was an interesting subject. I am not bragging here. I wasn’t like most of my classmates, but I don’t think it made me better than them. I don’t even know if I ever was anything special, really. In the wide wide world out there, there must have been countless other girls just like me. But here, at this school, I was something of a rarity. When coming face to face with this rarity, most responded with mockery, but some others, with curiosity.
In a vacuum, I would not not feel particularly bad or good about these reactions. It mattered little what people thought of me. But I knew that this girl’s attention would do no good to either of us.
“You don’t have to worry about me, I’m okay,” I said, peaceably.
“But I do! Worry, I mean… Sorry, that wasn’t the right thing to… It’s just… Some of the other kids, they say such mean things about you, and laugh at you… about you… but I’m sure it’s just because they didn’t have a chance to get to know you! If they did… I mean, you’re a good person, and it’s not fair that…”
I felt that she could go on for a while like this, so I decided to be a little more forceful. “Really, it’s fine. But if you spend to much time talking to me, they’re going to start laughing at you, too. Go on now, your friends are waiting.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michiko and Reika watching us. Those two had a habit of taking younger girls under their wings, and Chisato must have become the latest protégé. Reika, at least, was nicer to me than most, but she didn’t approve of me.
“I don’t mind if they do laugh at me! It’s just not fair, I can’t…”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, Hoshino-san,” she went on. “Well, if you want to be alone now, I understand. But, um… This Saturday, it’s Tsuchiya-san’s birthday — um, you know him, right? From the fencing club? And some of us are getting together, at his dorm — it’s one of the nice ones, you know — for a birthday party. So maybe you…”
This was getting ridiculous.
“No, no, I can’t,” I said.
“I’m sorry if I’m being too forward! But I think it would be good if you spent some time together with everybody. Everybody thinks that you are some kind of… I don’t even know… It’s not fair! They never even try to talk to you! If they did, they’d see… You get it, right?”
I could see that she was getting more and more fond of the party plan, and of the idea of me as her little pet cause, so there was no getting around it. I had to put an end to it all. I forced myself to stop smiling, and spoke slowly, hoping my voice was cold enough.
“Quite plainly,” I said, “I don’t see the point.”
“You don’t see the..?”
“What would I even do, if I went to your party? I’ve been to one or two of those before, I know what it’s like there. You want me to talk to those people? Nothing they say to each other can be described as “talking”, as far as I’m concerned. They repeat the same words and phrases to each other, only changing the order slightly, about how oh, such-and-such looks so cool, and so-and-so shouldn’t have asked you-know-who out, and don’t you just love that dreamy teacher?, and none of it ever means anything. They go through their entire lives, making friends, falling in love, and what’s the point of any of it? They’re just playing with dolls — except they themselves are the dolls. So yes, I don’t take part in their life, but I don’t think I’m missing out on much.”
“But… But…” She was stuttering.
“To be frank,” I pressed on, hoping this would be the final blow, “I can’t see how anyone with any measure of intelligence at all could find any enjoyment in these things that you seem to find so important.”
“Hoshino-san… I…” She was breathing heavily, and appeared to be trying very hard to come up with something to say. Finally, she turned around and ran off. From various directions, there came muffled snickering. A couple of boys at a table nearby laughed out loud. Michiko shot me one of her famous looks. I ignored it.
I went back to my noodles, feeling shitty. It was cruel of me, and as soon as I finished talking, a part of me began to wish that I hadn’t said anything. It couldn’t be helped, I knew, but I wasn’t being completely honest, either. Then again, it’s not like anything I’d said was wrong. I was just as human as everybody else, and I enjoyed spending time with others, but like that? Who in their right mind would want the kind of lives these people lead? Well, many would, apparently. That was the hardest part. I knew I wasn’t wrong, but I couldn’t say that Chisato was wrong, either. But could we both be right at the same time? And if not, then… what?
That wasn’t the main thing right at the moment, though. I had been harsh with Chisato. I shouldn’t have been. I had to drive her away, but it didn’t have to be like this. Now it was too late. If I went back and apologized to her, wouldn’t that be a good thing? No, it’d only make it all worse. I would just have to stand by what I said. Except that didn’t feel right, either.
As always, I ended up retreating from the difficult questions. I finished my meal (accompanied by continued snickering), stood up, and went back to class.
***
Classes were over for the day, and I settled at my favored afternoon spot, a bench on a hill at the edge of campus. I picked up the manga I’d brought and leafed through a couple pages, but couldn’t concentrate. I put the book aside and looked at the people instead. Near and far, just at the bottom of the hill and off in the distance, there they were, coming and going, stopping to talk to each other and walking away. I followed the movements of one person, then sent my glance darting to the other side of the campus and focused on another. This was a way to spend a couple hours. Not a particularly good way, maybe, but one I kept coming back to. The figures kept moving, and I kept silently observing.
One figure moved closer and closer, until it was right in front of me.
“What was that at lunch today?” it greeted me.
“Ah,” I said, “Reika. Afternoon.”
She only frowned.
“Sorry,” I smiled. “Kiyokawa-senpai, good afternoon, if that works better for you.”
I was being petty. I knew well enough that Reika didn’t really care how I addressed her, and that she wasn’t frowning at my rudeness. Still, it felt good sometimes to prick at people in this way. She probably expected it of me, too.
“I’ll ask again,” she went on, not acknowledging anything I’d said, “what was that at lunch today?”
I sighed. This conversation would need to happen eventually. There was no way around that.
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“Worry about yourself.”
“But senpai,” I said, sweetly, “if I worried about myself, I could never have a moment of peace here at Ohtori Academy. Why, I’d keep myself up all night with worry!”
“Change your act, then,” she snapped. “You don’t like it here, fine. Everyone except you is stupid and doesn’t get what’s really important in life. Fine. You’re not the only person to ever feel this way. Doesn’t mean you have to make everyone around you miserable.”
I smiled and wagged my finger. “Point of order, point of order! I never said I don’t like it here. And I’m not trying to make anyone miserable.”
“Right. I guess someone else must have made Chisato-chan cry.”
“Not trying,” I repeated, “not on purpose. Anyway, I’m sparing her the far greater misery that would come from associating with me.”
“Ah yes, your perennial excuse. Do you really think that’s how it works? That you can be mean to whoever you want, and that’s okay, because people don’t like you? You do understand, don’t you, that people don’t like you because you behave this way, not vice versa? You really think that what you’re saying has any substance to it?”
I said nothing. It would be better to let her finish.
“I suppose you do,” she said after a pause, and I thought I sensed that same measured coldness that I’d used at lunch. “I suppose you love the sound of your own voice too much to not believe every word that comes out of your mouth.”
I chuckled.
“Oh, that’s a new one. And a good one… I’ll need to start writing down the things you all say about me. Some of them are pretty clever. ‘Hoshino had planned to drown herself once, but changed her mind, because the fish never say anything interesting.’ Have you heard that one?”
Reika blinked, and her face, for a moment, looked as though I’d slapped her.
“Really now?” There seemed to be a mix of anger and disappointment in her voice. “You find this funny? Nothing to be concerned about? People joke about you killing yourself, and it’s normal to you?”
I shrugged.
“You don’t have to worry about me, senpai. It’s all good, really. I appreciate a bit of levity.”
“Levity, huh? Right, yes, that’s how it is with you. Everything is a joke. Your own life is a joke to you.”
“Just because I can laugh at it doesn’t make it a joke.”
“Listen, Hoshino. As someone who, believe it or not, actually cares about you as a person, please, can you, just for once, listen to me? Can you start taking things more seriously? Things, and people? Assuming you don’t get kicked out or something, you’re going to be here for four and a half more years. You can’t keep going on like this.”
For a while, I said nothing, only looking at the people downhill. Then I pointed out one of them.
“Look over there, senpai. You see that guy? Tsuchiya, from my class. He entered the fencing club this year.”
I pointed to a different person.
“Before that, he used to spend a lot of time with that girl, Oshima. Now he hardly ever talks to her. I don’t really know why. Last month, though, Oshima stole the chairman’s sister’s clothes during a swimming class and hid them somewhere. As revenge, apparently. It’s funny, despite her brother being the chairman, that girl’s about as high on the social ladder as me. Nobody ever so much as gives her the time of day, but Tsuchiya has been visiting her garden a lot lately. Anyway, when Oshima stole her clothes, the student council got involved, but no one was punished. But this week, Oshima has been looking different. Like something scared her real bad. Also, this week, the kids in our class started inviting everyone to Tsuchiya’s birthday party. You know, that thing, the one that Chisato wanted me to go to? And, wouldn’t you know it, Oshima was one of the first to be invited. Harsh, right? Yesterday, she met with Tsuchiya in private, to give him his present early and say that she can’t come on Saturday. He… well, I don’t know what exactly he said, but now she feels like she has to come. And she looks even more scared.”
I looked Reika in the eye.
“So tell me, senpai, when that’s the kind of thing that goes on everywhere, no matter where you look, who is it that needs to start taking things more seriously?”
She stared at me with an unreadable experssion.
“You really know all of that?” she said at last.
“How would I not know all of that?” I shot back. “No one at this school knows how to keep a secret.”
After a while, I added,
“I guess I really do like the sound of my own voice. But I hear all the other ones just fine.”
She sighed.
“We’ll discuss this again,” she said, before turning around and walking away.
I leaned back and stared at the clouds. I hadn’t mentioned anything about Oshima to Chisato. Part of me thought that maybe I should have. It was certainly a better, more reasonable reason to avoid the party, compared to what I’d said. But I didn’t want her to see me as reasonable. The whole issue was that she’d thought I was a good person, just misunderstood. I didn’t want to be understood. I didn’t want people to take me seriously. It was so much easier to just be the bad guy.
And perhaps I also didn’t want Chisato to feel guilty about going. She was new here, she hardly knew anyone. If she does go, she probably won’t notice anything. She might enjoy herself. Would that be so wrong?
But no, none of that had anything to do with anything. Wanting to drive Chisato away, not wanting to spoil her fun… these thoughts might have been in my head, but none of them were the reason why I said nothing. The truth was, when Chisato mentioned the party, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be there. And I didn’t know what to think about that feeling.
I wanted to be there, at the party with Oshima and Tsuchiya, because I thought it would be interesting. Not that I expected someone to cause a scene, or get into a real fight. Most likely, Oshima would smile through the bullshit, sitting there with a cheerful face, hurting on the inside. And it was the thought of that smile and that pain that, for some reason, made me excited. That was something I wanted to see.
I rubbed my temples and looked at the school, and the people. A small group of girls was deep in conversation by a pond. A bunch of elementary school kids were running around. The student council president stood by an administrative building, talking about something to the chairman. Tsuchiya went into the rose garden again.
Surely I wasn’t the only one who knew about Oshima’s broken heart. But others, who knew and were still coming to the party, weren’t coming because they wanted to see her trying to hide the pain. They just didn’t care.
What about Tsuchiya, though? He made Oshima come. Was it to hurt her? Or did he really just not realize?
There I go again, I’m curious. I want to see.
The setting sun blazed orange light into my face.
“Four and a half more years, huh…” I muttered to myself.
“Well, they can let you out early for good behavior,” a voice said from behind my left shoulder.
“Or maybe it’s the opposite. We’ve never been too sure,” another one added from the right.
“Ah,” I smiled, “it’s you two.”
The twins, Hotaru and Yuki, were the only ones who took me seriously. They were officially recognized weirdos, like me, but of a different genre. I was the type of weirdo people laughed at. They were the type of weirdos people gave a wide berth. To borrow Chisato’s turn of phrase, that didn’t feel fair. They were kind, and brave, and good friends. But they were also wild creatures. They recognized no authority and respected no mores. In that way, they were like me. But if I always ended up retreating from these things, they never did. They always tried to do only what they wanted; and once they’d gotten into their heads that they wanted to do something, no one could talk them down. They were not afraid of offending people, or making enemies, and so they made many. With that kind of outlook on life, it was somewhat strange that they still hadn’t gotten kicked out of this school. But they hadn’t, and I was grateful for that. It was nice to have friends — and friends who were outcasts at that, outcasts by choice. I could talk to them, be friendly with them, live by their side, and not worry that I was dragging them down to my level.
“So what was Colonel Reika bothering you about?” Hotaru asked, sitting down next to me. She and Yuki were identical twins, but nobody mistook them for one another — nobody who cared enough to learn their names, anyway. Hotaru always wore her hair short, while Yuki grew it out; Yuki also had a small but noticeable scar under her left eye. I liked to think that I’d be able to tell them apart even without these, but I never got the chance to try.
“Just some unpleasantness over lunch,” I said, “no big deal. It’s that new girl who’s sweet on me.”
I immediately cringed at my own wording; Hotaru, for her part, laughed, while Yuki stage whispered, “Class S! Class S!” It was just good-natured ribbing between friends, I knew, no offense intended, but something inside me still turned unpleasantly.
“Well, anyway,” Hotaru said, managing to stifle her laughter, “sorry about that. Guess it’s been a while since we’ve had lunch together, huh? We’d keep you company today, but Yamaguchi kept us after class again.”
“Aw, I’m sorry,” I said. The history teacher had been in a war of attrition with the twins for over a year now.
“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Yuki said lightly. “Getting a look at what he keeps in his room was worth it.”
“What? What does he keep in his room?” I was kind of curious.
“Sorry, Azu-chan, can’t tell you everything!” She stuck her tongue out at me. “You’re welcome to try and break in there yourself.”
“Pass.” My gaze swept over the campus once again.
For a while, we just sat there, looking at people.
“It’s kind of warm for winter, isn’t it?” Yuki said.
“Is it?” I asked. “This is just normal weather. It was like this last year, too, right?”
Yuki didn’t answer, but Hotaru mumbled, “Come on, are we really that far gone that we’ll sit around and talk about weather?”
“You’re right, you’re right,” I nodded.
Everyone was quiet again.
“The chairman really looks like he’s from a different place, not from here, huh?” Hotaru said suddenly. “Him and the student council, too.”
“Yeah, it’s a bit like that when you can afford fancy clothes,” Yuki shrugged.
“No, I don’t mean the clothes. It’s more how they all carry themselves. It’s all kind of, I don’t know…”
“No, yeah, I get you. Something’s different about them. Like they’re the real people, that real things happen to, and we all are just set dressing.”
“I don’t think anybody could accuse you two of being just a piece of set dressing,” I interjected.
“Aw, thanks, Azu-chan,” Hotaru said, and ruffled my hair. “We try not to be.”
“I’m glad you do.” That was unusually serious of me. At the moment, I just said it without thinking, but it was certainly unusual.
“What about you?” Hotaru turned to face me. “The chairman and the others, do they make you feel…”
She stopped mid-sentence, not finishing her thought.
“Rather than that, it’s more like…” I began, but quickly realized I didn’t know where I was going with that. “Well…”
I looked at the chairman, a tiny red and purple spot against a plain white wall.
“I can’t be like you two,” I said quietly.
Why did I say that?
“Well, I don’t think you want to be like us, right?” Hotaru said. There was something careful about her voice, or so it seemed to me.
I said nothing for a few moments. Yuki looked down.
I don’t know why I hesitated. It’s not like it was a difficult question. No, I didn’t want to be like them, and we all knew that. Anyone who knew us could tell you that. Why was I making a big deal out of this? It’s not like it would offend them.
“No, not really,” I said at last.
At the same time, Hotaru laughed, somewhat timidly. That timidness was completely unlike her, too. What was it with us that day?
“Sorry, I made it weird,” she said. “Don’t worry about this, Azu-chan.”
For a while, we just sat there. Finally, Yuki said, “How about dinner?”
Hotaru and I nodded. We stood up and left the hill.
***
The next day, the twins and I were walking back to the dorms after class, when we saw Oshima standing by the rose garden’s entrance.
“She wants to talk to him, I guess,” I said.
“She shouldn’t,” Yuki muttered. “He’s just an asshole.”
“It’s a bitch of a situation,” Hotaru shrugged. “But it’s not like there’s anything we can do about it.”
“Nothing she’d appreciate, at least,” Yuki nodded.
If I were by myself, I’d stay there, to try and see what would happen when Tsuchiya came out. With the three of us, though, it’d probably be better to leave.
But, just as I thought that, the door opened, and Tsuchiya walked out, along with the chairman and his sister. Oshima was evidently surprised by this, and seemed to almost recoil upon seeing them — well, upon seeing Himemiya, I supposed. She quickly got a hold of herself, though, and started to say something, though we couldn’t hear what.
I thought for a second about what to do. Should we leave now? I turned to the twins, but it seemed that they were watching the scene as well. I wondered if I should say something, but in the end, I didn’t.
Tsuchiya said something with a smile, turned on his heels and walked away.
“Fucker…” Yuki grunted, through gritted teeth.
Oshima kept talking, then abruptly stopped. Himemiya gave a brief answer, bowed her head slightly, and returned to the garden.
Oshima was left there alone with the chairman. She was breathing heavily, seeming to almost shake. Just like Chisato was yesterday, an unhelpful thought made itself known in my head. The chairman, for his part, just stood there — throughout the whole exchange, he didn’t say a word to anybody.
Oshima then turned around and saw the three of us standing to the side. She gave a pained laugh.
“Oh great, the freaks saw me lose my shit,” she said. This time, it was loud enough for us to hear.
And then she ran off.
The chairman walked towards us. He was tall and lean; his figure had something light and at the same time imposing about it.
“Apologies for the spectacle,” he said with a half-smile.
I breathed in. This wasn’t a role I particularly enjoyed playing, but, with the twins by my side, it naturally fell to me to be the responsible one.
“Um, no, excuse us, chairman,” I said, with a nervous laughter, in my best Normal Schoolgirl voice. “We didn’t really mean to eavesdrop, we were just surprised! We didn’t even hear anything.”
“That’s quite alright,” he replied, in the same flat, measured deep voice, betraying no feeling. “Emotions run wild in you young creatures; nothing improper about that. So long as no one gets hurt, of course.”
A silence followed. Something about this man unnerved me. I normally rarely had trouble finding the right words to say, but this time, I did.
Then, suddenly, Yuki spoke.
“I’m sorry, there’s something I need to…”
And, without finishing, she left — in the same direction Oshima did.
Hotaru glanced at her, then at the chairman, then at me, and, saying nothing, followed after her sister.
The chairman’s half-smile grew into a full one.
“Aren’t twins amazing?” he said. “They say one can always feel what the other is thinking. Most people can only dream of a bond like this.”
I was panicking. I didn’t know why, but I was panicking. I needed to calm down. Honestly, I could just end the conversation there. Just leave, like everyone else already had. Some part of me felt that this would be a defeat of sorts. But then, so what? I never cared about winning or losing. Not about winning or losing in a conversation , at least. That would be just silly. It would be normal for me to not give a shit about sticking it to the chairman; to apologize and go back to my dorm and read and hang out with Hotaru and Yuki again the next day and live out the rest of my time here just like I’ve always been doing —
And I didn’t do that. Instead, I met the chairman’s gaze.
“Yes, I’ve heard that,” I said, cheerily. “I’ve no idea if that’s true or not.”
“You could always ask your friends.”
“I let them keep their privacy.”
“How admirable,” he chuckled. “Well, let me tell you, Hoshino-san. It’s always terrific to get to know my students a little better. I enjoy nothing more than to see such beautiful and formidable personalities, all living side by side, in perfect harmony. Now then, I’ll leave you to your business.”
I was left alone. Well, great. What did this accomplish? I didn’t “win” anything. Nothing about me had really felt right for the last couple of days. A staring contest with the chairman today, making Chisato cry yesterday… And then that awkwardness with the twins…
Right. The twins. Dammit, I wasn’t really thinking about what I should have been thinking about. Yuki had gone off. After Oshima, right? I was sure of it. And that, for some reason, filled me with dread.
A part of me knew that I should go after them, too. Like Hotaru did. Like a good friend would. I didn’t really understand what Yuki was going to do, but things could go poorly. Yuki, no, both of them could need someone to support them, or to keep them from doing something stupid. But oh, what was I thinking? It was Hotaru and Yuki. They were always doing something stupid, and they always got away with it. No, something was different this time. Something that made it almost painful for me to think about all this.
Oh, but are you sure, a voice inside me said, are you sure that it’s not just the same thing as with the party? That you don’t just want to go after them so you can watch?
No, no, it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t. Right?
As I was thinking all of this, I realized that I already started walking back to the dorm. Away from where Hotaru and Yuki were.
I went into my room, threw my bag onto the bed, and flopped down in front of my desk.
I held my head in my hands.
What was this? What was going on with me? Why did I start feeling like this all the time?
What do I do now?
I don’t know for how long I sat like that.
Suddenly, a bright light filled the room.
“Hello, Azusa,” a weird, unfamiliar voice said. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
Chapter Text
The light was just this side of blinding. I could not tell what the source of it was, except that it was just outside my window. And the voice must have been coming from there, too.
The window was a white rectangle; not quite painful to look at, but I still lowered my eyes.
What a supremely silly position to be in. All my life, I had led a painfully normal existence. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happened to me. I was put on this earth to walk the same path as a million other girls just like me — same families, same clothes, same schoolwork, same feelings, same lives. Whatever bit of weirdness there was in my life, I had to claw it out for myself, inch by inch. Even then, thinking about it now, that was nothing more than a child’s game, right? A bit unusual in the moment, but perfectly ordinary at the end of the day. And now here I was, in the middle of something — no other word for it — unnatural, and I couldn’t bring myself to so much as wonder at it. I’d panicked about Yuki running after Oshima, but this I took in stride.
“What is this? Who are you” I asked.
“Don’t worry, silly,” the voice returned. “It can be a bit daunting when something not of this world shows up at your window. But don’t worry. It’s totally fine, no danger at all. I can’t do anything to you that you don’t agree to. Just come with me for a little bit, alright? I can bring you back here anytime you want. But first you’ve gotta see this. You’ll love it, I promise.”
“What… what kind of thing is it?”
“Sorry, can’t say that. Don’t wanna spoil the surprise. You’ll just have to take my word for it that it’s really cool, I guess. But it is. It is!”
I pondered.
“Well, come on,” the voice urged me. “I can’t hang out here forever. I need an answer from you, okay? Will you come with me or no?”
It occurred to me that for a very long time now, I had not really been making any decisions in my life. If someone suggested something to me, or if a course of action presented itself to me in some other way, I might say, “yeah, why not,” and do it, but I never made any effort to take any course of action on my own initiative. Things happened to me, but I did not seek them out. And I had never really been in a situation where I had to choose. I had never hit any crossroads in my life. Until that moment .
It was still silly . Some sort of a weird supernatural light outside my window, calling me to come with it? How could I decide what to do here? What was there to me to base my decision on? These things don’t happen to people, so when they happen to you, you can’t deal with them based on experience. But logic doesn’t really work, either.
This time, though, I wanted to make a decision. I’m not sure why I wanted it, but I did. And I knew what decision I wanted to make. I wanted to go with this — well, this person, it was probably not wrong to call them that — and see what they wanted to show me.
“Yes. Okay,” I said. “I’ll come with you.”
“Alright! Cool beans! Lemme just…” the voice muttered something I couldn’t quite make out, and the light pouring into my room shifted, changed its form, and in front of me, where the window used to be, was a bright white stairway, leading out of my room and into nothingness, and at the end of it was a dark shape.
I hesitantly put my foot onto the stairs, and they held. I began walking up. I could not tell where I was, physically, but it definitely didn’t feel like the air outside my dorm. The stairs were longer than I’d expected, but not particularly hard to climb. I wasn’t a very athletic person, and sometimes three or four flights of stairs at school could leave me out of breath. Now, though, I was fine. I tried to look at what was around me, but there wasn’t really anything to see. So I kept my eyes on the end of the stairs. The thing they were leading to grew closer and closer, and it took on a distinct shape. When I saw what it was, I couldn’t keep myself from laughing.
“A flying saucer? Really?” I said. “It looks straight out of a kids’ book.”
“That’s probably where I got the idea from,” the voice replied. “Probably.”
“Probably?”
“I don’t really remember much. From before the… Before this. Anyway, why not a flying saucer? What’s wrong with a flying saucer?”
“Uh, nothing, I suppose. It’s just that everything about this — this whole thing I mean, you coming here and telling me to come with you, and everything — it all seems kind of…”
“Kind of?”
“Silly, I guess,” I said. “Sorry.”
The voice laughed.
“Nah, don’t be. It is a little silly, yeah. That’s not such a bad thing, though, is it? You’ve said yourself, you appreciate a bit of levity in your life.”
“I’ve said that?”
“Yeah, yesterday.”
I tried to remember. Oh, right. To Reika, that time. So she knows about that, huh. Well, far be it from me to contradict myself.
“Oh yeah,” I nodded. “I guess I did. Alright then, levity appreciated.”
“Thaaaaank you”, the voice responded with exaggerated gravitas.
And with that, I reached the top of the stairway. It led right up to the door — would it be called a door on a flying saucer? A hatch? Something else? Well, anyway, it was the saucer’s entrance. It opened, and I stepped in.
“Welcome, welcome, Hoshino Azusa!” I heard as soon as I was inside. “So glad you could join me! And thank you for trusting a complete stranger who had flown a UFO right up to your dorm window. I knew I could count on you!”
The owner of the voice now stood in front of me. Well, she — and I was sure that it was a “she”, though I couldn’t say why — might have been standing in front of me, but, even as I looked at her, I could not make out anything. It’s not that it was hard to see, it’s just that no details registered in my brain. She was about as tall as me, and seemed about the same age, but that was all I could tell, and even those were just guesses.
“You know my name, then,” I said, as though it was an intelligent observation. After a few moments, I added, “You mind telling me yours?”
“Don’t have one,” she replied. “I used to, but I left it behind when I started this life. Since then, I’ve just been… myself, nameless. All alone up here, there wasn’t much need for me to have a name.”
“What should I call you, then?”
“Nothing, for now. If the two of us will get to see more of each other later, then we’ll come up with something. Otherwise, just think of me as an anonymous benefactor.”
“Right.” I looked around the room. The interior was about as cartoonish as the exterior, with odd-looking levers, buttons, dials, and lamps scattered around without any apparent pattern. “Do these all… actually do something?”
“Probably,” my host answered, shrugging. “I never got to figuring most of that stuff out. I know enough to pilot this little gal, and all the complicated stuff doesn’t really interest me. But here, look, this is the really important one!”
She pointed to a window with what looked like two pairs of binoculars affixed in front of it.
“I installed a second one just for you,” she said. “This is what I brought you up here for. Come on!”
I walked over to the window. She put her eyes to one pair of binoculars and motioned for me to do the same. I did, and saw a bird’s eye view of Ohtori, centered on my dorm.
“Not very impressive for now, huh? But we can zoom in a good deal, and locate anything we want to…” She fiddled with some controls, and the view shifted, and zoomed in on someone — a girl, standing by herself under a tree. My host zoomed in a little more, and I saw that it was Oshima. She looked miserable.
“We don’t just get to see what’s happening now, of course… That’d be boring. Let’s rewind…” The picture gently shook, and soon enough, Oshima stood up and walked away, backwards. The binoculars followed her. She was now in a nook between two old buildings — an abandoned dorm and a mostly unused gym. I knew that place — a place you go when you want to be alone, not to see or be seen by anyone.
“Oh hey, your friend is here!” I looked, and — yes, sure enough, that was Yuki there, talking to Oshima about something.
“This looks juicy… Let’s watch. With sound, of course.” She again fiddled with something, and the sounds of conversation filled the room.
“What do you want?” Oshima barked.
“Look,” Yuki said, in a pained voice, “if you think we’re freaks, that’s fine by me. And you, uh… You did lose your shit, but that’s not your fault, so it’s not like you need to feel… like it’s bad for you that we saw you. We’re not… That is… Look, all I want to say is, you shouldn’t let that guy treat you like that, you know, drive you to…”
Oshima frowned at her. “What do you even know? Or care?”
“I… I care, alright? I can see what everyone can see, can’t I? That’s what everyone can see. That he’s a piece of shit.”
“Great, great. You can’t imagine how much your opinion matters to me. What is this? What are you playing at here?”
“Playing? Who’s playing? I just see something that’s not right, and I speak out. That’s all. I just think it’s unfair...”
“What a familiar scene…” my host purred delightedly.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You don’t remember? Why — ah, nevermind, let’s just keep watching.”
Oshima looked pissed.
“You expect me to believe this, huh? You’re just a concerned bystander? You, of all people?”
“What do you mean, of all people?”
“Oh, you know what I mean! The physics lab last year? The table tennis? The chrysanthemum incident? You think I’ve forgotten all of that?”
I remembered some of what she was talking about — the time when a bunch of equipment went missing in the science building, and the ping pong tournament that ended in a huge cheating scandal. Naturally, Hotaru and Yuki had been involved both times — both times narrowly managing to get away with everything — but I couldn’t remember what any of it had to do with Oshima. And what was that about a chrysanthemum?
“That’s not — that wasn’t about you! You think I’m the type of person who’d do…”
“Not about me, about him! And yes! Yes, I do think that! You and your sister, you’re… you’re just children! You just do whatever you feel like, whatever seems like fun to you! You’ve never gave any thought in your life to anyone, except each other. And that idiot friend of yours. And now you tell me that you’re concerned about me? What a joke.”
“Well, I am concerned! Look, I’ve already said, I don’t care how you feel about me, I just want you to listen! Think of me as a freak, if you want to, but that Tsuchiya guy is worse than a freak!”
“Well, newsflash, freak. You don’t get to talk to me about him. You, or your sister, or Himemiya. Is she in your little friend group, by the way? She should be. You all would just love each other.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” Yuki’s voice was almost breaking. “He’s an asshole! What does that have to do with me or Hotaru?”
“Because it’s your fault!” Oshima yelled. “It’s your fault he’s like this! All of that shit you did! All of that shit got into his head, and now he’s like this! He used to be normal, he used to be sweet! And you saw that, and you ruined him! Because it would be a funny prank! Well, ha freaking ha! And now you come and talk to me like this… What kind of idiot do you think I am?” And with that, she spat, and went off.
“Great stuff, great stuff,” my host muttered, “And now…”
The view shifted again, this time, to a close up of Yuki’s face.
I was thinking. That’s right, Tsuchiya was in that ping pong tournament. And the equipment was stolen right before he was due to present his experiment before the class. But that was just a coincidence, right? Hotaru and Yuki weren’t doing anything to spite him, personally. I still couldn’t remember the chrysanthemum thing.
“Hey, do you know what the chrysanthemum incident is?” I asked.
“Eh, who cares about that stuff. You really should be looking at this. You see it, don’t you?”
I watched Yuki’s face. The expression was dejected, broken. And in her eyes, there was a glint of something tender and wistful.
She whispered something, too quiet for us to hear. We didn’t really need to hear it, though.
Yeah, I saw it, all right.
“So she… Yuki feels that way about Oshima? She… She likes her. Like that.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re surprised!” my host exclaimed. “You must have noticed, right? You’re good at noticing this stuff, normally.”
I must have? Yes, probably. But did I? T he thought must have been there. But it was not a comfortable thought, and I had n’t permit ted it to register in my consciousness, not once .
I swallowed.
“But was she right?” I said. “About Tsuchiya? Is he like that because of that stuff that Hotaru and Yuki did?”
“Who knows?” she replied. “I think he’s just like that because he’s an Aquarius.”
“Really? That’s the explanation? You believe in that sort of thing?”
“Nah, not really. I don’t even know what astrology says about Aquarius, or if it fits this guy. But it’s a story, right? ‘Tsuchiya acts like this because he was born in January.’ ‘Tsuchiya acts like this because Hotaru and Yuki ruined him.’ ‘Tsuchiya acts like this because he’s an asshole.’ All stories. Stories aren’t really meant to be believed or not believed. People tell stories to each other, and it doesn’t really matter if they’re believed or not, only if the story’s any good. And if it is good, and gets repeated often enough, that becomes all anyone’s ever heard of the matter. So everyone takes it for the truth. And then, when people go looking for truth, they only find stories. That’s all it ever is.”
“Yeah, but the truth still exists,” I said. “It’s either true that something happened because of something else, or it’s not.”
“Maybe so, but how can we tell? Even with this thing,” she tapped on the binoculars, “we can only see so much. We can see how someone looks, but not what they think or feel. We can see what choices they make, but not why. We tell ourselves stories about the why, and if those stories stop fitting with what we observe, we correct them. But we never know if they’re anywhere near ‘the truth’.”
“That’s a bit radical, surely,” I said, weakly.
“Oh, but speaking of stories,” she went on, “I’ve got another one for you, and it’s a doozy. It’s a bit long, though, so I’ll just have to make this a ‘greatest hits’ version… Alright, hold on tight!”
The scene started shifting rapidly. A quick succession of brief scenes and images passed before my eyes, never giving me enough time to focus on just one thing. I saw Tsuchiya in some weird place fighting a student council member with swords — and then some other people fighting like that as well, some from the student council, some not. Some of them I didn’t recognize. I saw Himemiya presiding over the duels, and I saw her being ordered around, and hit. I saw rings, and letters, and conspiracies. I saw the chairman in his car, speeding along a highway at night. I saw the chairman in a dark room, Himemiya walking in, and—
And then it was over. Everything was black.
“Sorry, that’s all we’ve got time for!” my host said. “But if you’re interested in seeing more…”
I stepped away from the binoculars. “If I’m interested in seeing more, then what?”
She cleared her throat. “You see, I’ve been doing this — traveling around on this thing — for a long time. I never regretted choosing to do this with my life. It’s wonderful, being here, being able to see anything that happens down there. I’ve observed so many things, and it’s been lovely, and sad, and beautiful. But I realized that something is missing.”
Oh. I realized what she was getting at.
“I don’t…” I began.
“Please let me finish,” she said impatiently. “I’ve been looking at the world, and the people in it, and what happens to them. What I saw was the stories of these people, like I said earlier. But stories aren’t meant to be enjoyed alone. When it’s just you, telling a story to yourself, it begins and ends with you. Even if it’s a story of other people, yours is the only perspective that you have. It’s static. It will never be more than this. Even that is a great deal, of course, but a lot more is possible when there’s someone else. When someone can look at the story you’re telling through different eyes, then the story itself changes, and you look at those changes and change them in turn. You disagree on something, and that gives a story a whole new shape, and from that new shape, another story is born, and then from that one, a third one, and so on, and so on. Just one story explodes into a multitude of possibilities. But here, of course, we’re not limited to just one story — when there’s more than one person, you can make every single story change, evolve, mutate. That’s what I want. I want that experience of change, of ever-evolving perspective.”
“In other words,” I said, “you want me to stay here with you.”
“I need a partner. So consider this your invitation. Or a job offer, if you like.”
“I don’t understand why.”
“Don’t you?” She was standing very close to me now. “You’re already sort of like me. You do the same thing I do. You observe your world — you just do it from the inside, not from the outside. You’re interested in the stories you see, you always want to see more of them. And over here, you can see anything you want. You’re the perfect person for this.”
“But that’s not all of me,” I protested. “I want other things in life, too. I enjoy other things in life, too. I can’t just turn my whole life into this — I mean, this isn’t a nine to five kind of job, is it?”
“No, the change is irreversible. You agree to stay here, and you’re not coming back. But is that really a deal breaker for you? You never seemed to eager to get involved in the world.”
“That’s not really—“
She took me by the hand. “I’ve been watching the world for a long time, Azusa. And you’ve been watching it, too. And I’ve been watching you watching. You’re almost like me — and that ‘almost’ fascinates me. I consider it, and I feel a lack. I can’t tell if I want to be more like you, or if I want you to be more like me.”
“Well, it definitely looks like the latter,” I said, pulling away from her. “You don’t come to me, you ask me to come to you. You don’t join me, you ask me to join you.”
“Like I said, it’s an irreversible change. If I wanted to come over to your side, I couldn’t. But come on, tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me you don’t feel that this is right.”
“I don’t think I know what ‘right’ means. It’s true that I enjoy watching people, seeing the things that happen to them. And it’s true that I prefer to stay out of those things — those stories, I suppose — myself. But the world out there — it’s still not something I can just walk away from.”
“Why not?” she said with a sarcastic smile.
“Why not? Because I have friends there, for one.”
“Oh, those two? You seemed content enough to abandon them today.”
“That…” I sighed desperately, because I knew she was right. “That was weakness. And confusion. I was overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do…”
“Didn’t you? Or is it that you knew what to do, and didn’t want to do it, because it would have pushed you deeper into the world? Made you get more involved? Instead, you walked away. That’s the choice you’ve always been making, for as long as I’ve been watching you.”
This was horrible. It was worse than being cruel to Chisato, it was worse than all of Reika’s lectures, it was worse than realizing Yuki’s feelings. I had never in my life wanted to cry as much as in that moment.
“But I know it’s wrong! I knew every time that it was the wrong choice!” I screamed. “I kept making it because I’m weak and selfish, but I don’t want to! I love my friends, I want to be good to them!”
She once again took my hand in hers. I wanted to pull away again, but couldn’t gather up the strength.
“But it’s not wrong,” she said, gently. “It’s not weak, or selfish. I’m sorry, I guess I provoked you too much. The reason you kept making that choice is because you understood that it was better for you than the other one. You say you want to be more involved in the world, but that desire is causing you pain, don’t you see? Because you’re not the kind of person who can do that. Your friends, the twins, they are agents. You are an observer. Their place is in the world, yours is out of it. If you’re not in the place that’s right for you, you’ll always be unhappy. You’ll feel like you’re doing something wrong, like there is a problem somewhere deep within yourself, but the problem isn’t with you. There is nothing wrong with you; you’re just trying to be something you’re not. And that is always painful.”
“But… my friends…”
“You’ll still be able to see them, even if they won’t see you. And they would want you to be happy, right?”
I said nothing for a while. She finally let go of my hands.
I squatted down and hugged my knees.
“You’re still wrong,” I said. “It’s still… not like that. I can’t walk away from the world. I love my friends, but it’s not just that. I love the rest of it all, too.”
“Really now?” she asked. “You always talk about how you despise everyone, how their lives and relationships are all empty. You dismiss so many things out of hand. Honestly, one would think you would jump at the chance to get out of Ohtori.”
“Maybe I do say stuff like that,” I said. “Maybe I don’t take people seriously, maybe I dismiss them. Maybe I really think that it’s a horrible place to be stuck in, and the company of most people there is miserable. I love all of it nonetheless. All of it.”
That was the truth. I loved Ohtori — loved the stupidly manicured grass, the ugly walls, the disgusting uniforms, the querulous and quarrelsome teachers, the fake smiles, the petty rivalries, the meaningless friendships and love affairs, the conversations of no sense or consequence. I recognized the insipid, lifeless nature of this existence, and perhaps it would be more honest to despise it wholeheartedly. But I could not. I could never help loving everything I saw.
“Well, that’s no good,” she told me, in a sweet but self-assured voice. “If that’s truly how you feel, then you really must stay with me. If you want to love the whole world, you can’t be in it. When you’re down there, your perspective is limited. Your perception is distorted. You only catch glimpses of things, and even then, you can’t help your own self being right there in the middle of it all. You can’t help having to take somebody’s part. You say you love your friends, and everything else, too — but if those two are your friends, and others are not, doesn’t that mean that you love them more than you do the rest of the world?”
“Maybe I do. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing — if you want to be a person of the world. But then don’t say that you love all of it.”
“Fine,” I said, trying to make myself sound angry. “I lied. I don’t love all of it. Happy?”
“No, I don’t think you did lie. You got pretty excited about those, didn’t you?” She gestured at the binoculars. “Getting to see anything you want, anywhere, at any time, without having to worry about having to be there in person, and the pesky social consequences. About what others might say or do, or what they’ll think of you, or what you ought to do… You’ve been pretending not to be bothered by any of those things, but they’ve been hurting you, I could tell. But when you’re over here, they don’t matter.”
I gritted my teeth and looked away.
“Ah!” she said. “Even now! Even now, as I’m talking about it to you, you can’t help it — you’re excited! I saw it! I’ve told you, I’ve been watching you for a long time, I know what you’re like! I saw it! You want this. You want to stay here.”
I kept saying nothing. She wasn’t wrong. I did feel all those things. I did want to be outside of everything, to deal with the world as a whole, to perceive and not be perceived. I had always been aware of those feelings, and always scared of them. Worrying about following Yuki and Hotaru, worrying about wanting to see Oshima at Tsuchiya’s party. I knew that I wanted to perceive the world in that way, and also that I didn’t want to be someone who wanted that.
And I’ve always ended up walking away from that world, from the people I shared it with. Always choosing the path of the outsider. That was what she said, right? “ That’s the choice you’ve always been making.”
N o, that wasn’t how it was. I wasn’t choosing to walk away from the world, I was choosing to walk away from choice. I was faced with having to choose between watching and doing , between being a friend and being an observer, between loving something and loving everything. And then I just didn’t choose. Maybe the difference didn’t amount to a lot . In the end, it still meant that I was not putting myself out there. And that I was abandoning my friends.
But still, she couldn’t say that I was doing so because, deep inside, I wanted to abandon them and to leave the world. I didn’t choose between the two options that I had because I could not find a reason to want one more than the other — and because I didn’t realize that this refusal to choose was pushing me towards one of the options. I avoided even thinking about it all , because it was too hard and painful. But now that I was forced to, I could suddenly see more clearly. It was obvious which choice was right .
“Well then,” I said, standing up.
“Have you decided?” She had walked over to what I assumed was the pilot’s chair. Now the chair rotated, and she faced me. “Will you stay with me?”
“I could do the selfish thing,” I said calmly, “or I could do the good thing. Up until now, I guess I’ve been pretty selfish. If I were to stay true to what I’ve been doing so far in my life, I’d have to stay. But I don’t think I want to be that person anymore.”
“So the answer is no?”
“The answer is no. I’ll go back down there, to the world. I’ll learn to live in it, and not walk away from it. I’ll learn to be a friend. I’ll learn to live with a limited perspective.”
“You wont be happy,” she said, sounding genuinely worried.
“If that’s true, I want to see that on my own.”
For a few moments, neither of us said anything.
“Fine,” she said at last. “If that’s your choice, that’s your choice. I can’t keep you here by force. But my offer still stands. If you ever change your mind, call me and I’ll pick you up.”
“Call you how?” I asked, though I didn’t think I would need to know that.
“Just call me,” she smiled, and pushed some levers.
And then I woke up.
Chapter Text
I was still sitting at my desk, the light was still on. It was — I glanced at my watch — half past midnight. Probably about eight hours since I came into the room. My head felt heavy, and I found it hard to think. I did remember what just happened — what, I thought, must have been a dream, but did not feel like one. I remembered her — not what she looked like, that much I never saw, but her voice, and the feeling of her hands on mine. I remembered what she’d said, and what it was like to look at Ohtori from her flying saucer. And I remembered what I’d said, too. I remembered my own choice. To “go back down” to this world, and to learn to be someone different from who I’ve been until now.
I still wanted that. I still meant to do that. I’d never really experienced this kind of desire to change myself before, and now, I felt it so strongly. Even if I still did not understand how to go about this change, all of me was lost in anticipation of it.
But it would have to wait until tomorrow. Right now, it was night, and I was exhausted. I climbed into my bed and fell asleep, and dreamt, as I remember now, of nothing at all.
In the morning, I did not feel particularly well rested. What’s more, the determination I’d felt previously had mostly dissipated. If I asked myself whether I still agreed with everything I’d told her, I supposed I could answer yes. But the eagerness wasn’t really there anymore. And I still didn’t really know what I was actually supposed to do. It was easy to say, “I will change myself,” but that alone didn’t mean anything.
“I guess I’ll just have to figure it out,” I told myself. First, I’d meet up with Hotaru and Yuki and talk to them about yesterday. Then… Well, then I would think of the next step. For now, it was time to head to class.
But Hotaru and Yuki weren’t in class that day, and I couldn’t find them anywhere at lunch, either. After lunch, I had a literature class, where I unexpectedly somehow found myself drawn into a debate about theater. It wasn’t a bad experience, nor a particularly good one, all things considered. I said some things that were somewhat to the point, and some things that weren’t; the same went for others, too. More than anything, I think people — including the teacher, who until then had barely suspected I existed — were surprised to hear me speak. And I was surprised, too. And in all the excitement, I somehow forgot to think of the twins.
At the end of the debate, the teacher mentioned a book, and I went to the library to check it out. I don’t know why I did that. Did I really want this to become my life? And on the way to the library, I thought to myself: I wanted to start making choices in my life. And yet, here I was again, doing something just because it felt like a thing to do. But still, I didn’t turn away. I got to the library, and got the book, and just as I turned to leave, suddenly…
“Hey.”
Hotaru was there, in front of me. Alone.
Suddenly, everything I’d been thinking about in the morning came back. Dammit, what the hell was I doing here? Theater? What did theater have to do with anything? I thought I had made a decision, I thought I chose to try being a better friend. And then… I didn’t. I didn’t do it. If I couldn’t make a choice and stick to it, then what was the point of all this?
“Hey, Hotaru,” I said, trying not to sound nervous, and stuffed the book into my bag. “Sorry, I’ve been meaning to catch up with you two earlier today, there was just a lot of stuff…”
I didn’t really feel like it made sense to say that. I had never been the type of person that can get caught up in “a lot of stuff”, and Hotaru knew that. But it appeared that she wasn’t really listening to me.
“Azu-chan,” she said. “I need to talk to you. About something important.”
Something important? She sounded kind of nervous, too.
“Um, yeah, of course,” I said. “What about Yuki?”
“No, she’s… It’s… I can’t talk about it to her. It’s a… Look, can we get to somewhere more private?”
“Sure. That place behind the storage sheds?” The nook between the abandoned dorm and the gym was closer, but it didn’t feel right to go there.
“Yeah, okay.”
It was a few minutes’ walk from the library to the sheds. On the way, neither of us said anything. Once we arrived, and made sure no one else was around, we just stood for a couple of minutes. Then Hotaru began to speak.
“It’s… I feel weird talking about this to someone else, even to you, Azu-chan. But I kind of have to. I need to talk it over with someone. It’s about yesterday, when Yuki went after Oshima. Remember? After that whole thing with Tsuchiya?”
Yeah, I remembered. “Sorry… I should’ve gone after you two, too,” I said sheepishly.
She brushed me off. “It’s fine. It’s not that. I went after her, and I saw her talking to Oshima. Well, a bit of it. I heard her talking, and saw her face. And, well, that’s when I understood. How she really feels. About Oshima, I mean.” She paused for a while. “She likes her. Not in the… Really likes her, I mean.”
I stood there, saying nothing.
“You already know, don’t you?” she said quietly.
“Yeah… I mean, I noticed.” Except that I didn’t, not until it was pointed out to me. But I couldn’t tell Hotaru that.
“That makes me feel a little better,” she smiled weakly. “You’re our best friend, but it still felt kind of wrong telling you this type of stuff about my sister… But you’re right, I guess, it couldn’t have been that hard to see.”
“So that’s what you were worried about,” I said. I understood something of how Hotaru must have felt — I myself must have been feeling some of it last night, when I realized it — but there was something else here.
A weighty silence followed. There were a lot of things to be said, but I didn’t feel comfortable saying any of them. Neither did Hotaru, probably.
“I mean, I don’t think it’s bad…” she said, unsure of herself. “To feel that way about a girl. It’s just…” She trailed off.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Oshima might not agree, though.”
“No — well, yeah, that’s true, but that’s not what I… It’s just that…” Hotaru looked pained and pensive. “I don’t feel the same way about her, you know? About Oshima. I understand how Yuki feels, but I can’t share it. And that’s probably the first time this happened…”
So that’s what it was. I had not really considered this about the two of them before. I always saw them as two separate people — that’s what I wanted to tell myself, at least, but at the same time, I always thought about them together, as “the twins”. I wasn’t sure what to think of the matter. But if I was going to put my money where my mouth was, I’d have to say something. To be a friend.
“But it’s fine, isn’t it?” I said, “You don’t have to love the same person she does. You and her are two separate people…”
“I know that!” She raised her voice suddenly, but there was little anger in it. “I… I’m not an idiot. I know she and I are not magically bound together. I always knew we would have to start being our own people eventually. Not sharing everything. Doing stuff separately from each other. Having secrets from each other. I knew it couldn’t be like this forever, us two perfectly synchronized. But now it’s happened, and it’s this huge thing, and… I guess I wasn’t prepared.”
“You can still be close, though, right? Even if you’re not ‘synchronized’,” I said. What was it she’d told me? It’s all about stories? “Maybe it’ll hurt like this for a while, but once you’ve started seeing Yuki, uh… well, you know, separate from yourself… You’ll see that you two still have so much in common. You’ll still be there for each other. It’s not an all or nothing thing — it doesn’t have to be.”
She said nothing.
“It might even be easier that way,” I went on. “I mean, sharing everything, that’s a big burden. It might be easier for you rwo to stay close if you don’t expect yourselves to… to, well, always be like this.”
She still said nothing. I had no idea if I was talking any sense. What if I was saying the last things Hotaru needed to hear now?
Suddenly, she hugged me.
“But what about you, Azu-chan?” she whispered. “I think that… I feel that… I don’t show it enough, maybe, but you… You are out dear friend. Well, our… my… I…” She seemed to be struggling to fight the right words. “You’ve been there with us all along, and I know I wouldn’t want it any other way. I don’t want to lose you, to grow apart from you. But I can’t help thinking… If I don’t feel about Oshima the way Yuki does, what if she doesn’t feel about you the way I do? I… I just wouldn’t know how to deal with that…”
An overpowering, deathly cold washed over me. I felt it, in between the chill of January air and the heat of Hotaru’s body, her arms tight around me, her chest rising and falling. I felt her, a warm blob of flesh, her body an object in the vast world, the air escaping her mouth, hot against my skin. And I felt her thoughts, pouring and pouring over the two of us. The way Yuki feels about Oshima… The way Hotaru feels about me… And in my head, I could only hear her voice, repeating: “You must have noticed, right? You must have noticed, right? You must have noticed, right?”
There was barely any room for conscious thought left. I was terrified. It took all of my self-control not to tear myself away from Hotaru right at that moment. But I didn’t. I tried to summon up the right words to say, but nothing came to me, so I just stood there, muttering: “It’s fine.. It’s fine… It’ll be okay… There’s nothing to worry about…”
Little by little, the terror started to abate. It was still there, but I was now able to think. I understood that rather than empty words, I should tell Hotaru something concrete. That I consider her a dear friend as well, that I’ll be there for her no matter what… that kind of stuff. Even though these were small things, and obvious ones — surely, she understands that I consider her a friend — I felt they would be the right things to say. But I couldn’t bring myself to say even that much.
Hotaru, at least, didn’t seem to mind me not saying anything of substance. After a while, she let go of me, and smiled.
“Sorry, I guess I made a scene,” she said. “But thanks for listening, Azu-chan.”
I just nodded.
“I should go catch up with Yuki,” she went on. “We haven’t actually talked to each other properly since yesterday. I think she, you know, knows that I know.”
“You’ll talk to her about it, then?”
“I kind of have to, right? But man, what do I even say… And what are we gonna do then? Well, I’ll just have to figure it out. It’s really scary, though.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I get it. Sorry, I don’t have much in the way of advice. All I know how to do is to drive people away.”
Hotaru’s smile widened into a huge grin. She ruffled my hair — just like she had done before — and spoke, her voice suddenly so much stronger and more cheerful: “Aw, come on!”
Then, after a few moments, she added:
“Sorry we didn’t get to hang much today. Tomorrow, let’s meet up before classes, okay? All three of us.”
“Sure.” Deep inside, I was still terrified. But I don’t think I could have answered any other way.
Hotaru nodded and ran off.
I stood there. For a while, I just stood. There were sounds all around me, wind and far-off voices and footsteps. And inside me, there was the same terror — and with it, new things, too. Anxiety, doubt, wistfulness… Self-loathing. I stood there, and, without letting my mind think about anything, simply perceived it all, the sounds and the feelings. It was like a wide expanse of bright color, except invisible; like a great wave crashing into me, except it did not move me; like a flame scorching me, except the pain was not in any part of my body. There was a grandness about it all, and I somehow felt that, if I could keep going long enough, something amazing would happen.
But I could not. My brain could not keep going like that, unfocused, and I slipped back into thought.
They were not particularly pleasant thoughts, but they also were unavoidable. For the most part, I was wondering. If Hotaru really felt that way about me, what did I feel for her? Did I feel differently about her and Yuki? I enjoyed their company — I liked spending time with them, both of them. I always felt better, easier, with them by my side. I came back here to this world for them — didn’t stay up there with her for them — well, not just for them, but let’s be honest, mostly for them…
But this was all stuff about both, about the two of them. If I were to think about differences… Maybe it was normally easier to talk to Hotaru about important things — well, no, not easier… And it’s not that the things I talked about with Yuki weren’t important. But then, Hotaru did more often ask me about what I felt deep inside, get into the stuff that was uncomfortable — then she’d always get embarrassed and apologize for making it weird. Even just now, that’s kind of what happened. And I liked that about her. Right?
Or maybe not. Maybe everything I was telling myself was wrong. Maybe I just wanted to believe this stuff because it would make for a prettier, more convenient picture in my head.
I was getting nowhere. It felt impossible, to make sense of everything. A thought occurred to me: I can’t do this on my own. But who even was there for me to ask for advice? It’s not like I had any friends besides the twins.
Maybe I could throw myself at Reika’s feet and beg for her help. “Sorry, senpai!” I would tell her. “I was wrong, and you were right! I’ve decided to start taking things more seriously — but I’m confused about everything. Please, help me out!”
No, no, I could not do that. So instead, I decided to go with a much more absurd option.
That’s how I found myself in front of the door to the rose garden.
I breathed in deep and went in. The chairman’s sister was there, as usual. She looked up and gazed at me in surprise.
***
“Hoshino-san? Did you want something?”
“Um… Himemiya, right? I have something to talk to you about. If you have a couple of minutes.”
She looked at me. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
“Of course. What is it?”
“This is a bit awkward…” I began. It was, but I’d had a few minutes to rehearse. “I’m sorry for coming here out of the blue and talking like this — it’s not like we know each other. But I’m kind of going through a weird time right now, and I need some advice. And, well… I don’t know what exactly the deal is with you and these duels and everything else that’s going on here, but something makes me feel like you would be a good person to ask. That you understand these things.”
“You… You know? But you’re not…” She was evidently confused; then, in an instant, her voice changed, and her face relaxed in an expression of understanding. She glanced upward and smiled a tiny smile. “Ah, I see what it is. Well then, go ahead.”
“It’s probably a stupid question,” I stammered. “It’s not a life or death matter, or anything like that… It’s silly, but I don’t have anyone to ask this kind of thing. It seems a bit out of place to be asking…”
The more I went on, the more awkward it felt. Himemiya said nothing, just looking at me expectantly.
“The question is,” I said, deciding to try and get this over with quickly, “how does one know when one is in love? And, further, how does one figure out how to act towards… towards the object of that possible love? When, no matter how you consider it, no choice feels right?”
She raised her eyebrow at that — only very slightly, I barely even noticed it.
Then, she asked, “You’re not asking out of idle curiosity, are you?”
I shook my head.
“I see,” she nodded. “Well, Hoshino-san, there are only two possibilities. Either what you are feeling is love, or it isn’t. If it isn’t, then you’re more or less free to pursue whatever course of action you end up selecting. It might not be easy to make that choice, but at least, the choice will be yours. If it is love, on the other hand, there will be no choice for you.”
“No choice?”
“Love isn’t something you can walk away from. You cannot choose who you love; and, once love is there, it does not stay or go at your pleasure. Everything has already been decided for you.”
“Isn’t that a scary thought?”
“Indeed.” She paused for a moment. “They sometimes talk of love as if it were something that came from outside you. A strange force that invades your mind and subjugates it. But it doesn’t really matter, I think. Perhaps love is akin to hunger. When your body is hungry, no one is imposing their will onto you. You are free to eat or to starve, but you can’t simply choose not to feel hunger. It might be the same with love.”
I considered.
“But if that’s how it is… Then, if I did feel love, why would I agonize so much about what to choose? If the choice’s already made for me, then that’s that. But I don’t see only a single choice. There are many, and I have no idea which one is the one.”
“Perhaps that’s because you haven’t accepted it yet,” she replied. “If you have accepted that you’re in love, there is nothing more to it than following wherever it takes you. Without acceptance, there is no clarity.”
“So I need to accept it?” Accept that I don’t get a say in my life, is that it? There was something karmic about that. All along, I’ve been avoiding decisions, refusing to live my life all so that I wouldn’t have to make difficult choices. And now, these choices would be taken away from me. There was nothing just or comfortable in that thought.
“Of course, it could also be that you’re not in love at all,” Himemiya went on. “In that case, there is nothing for you to accept, nothing to surrender to. I’m afraid I don’t have much advice for you on how to tell which one it is.”
She was silent for a few seconds, then, said, her tone suddenly different.
“I’ve never known what it’s like not to be sure about this. If I had…”
She didn’t finish.
I sighed and rubbed my temples.
“Well, thank you for explaining it.”
“It was nothing, Hoshino-san. And,” she turned to look directly at me, and her mouth briefly went into a half-smile, “thank you for taking the time to come see me. I don’t think we will get another chance to talk like this.”
I blinked. What did she mean by that?
Before I could ask her, she had already turned her back to me and become completely engrossed in her flowers. I stood there for a couple more moments, then finally left the garden.
***
I was back at my usual spot, on the hill at the edge of campus. I fell down onto the cold ground and looked into the clouds drifting by. Was I in love with Hotaru? All the terror and pain I’d been feeling were because I wasn’t sure of it, because I wasn’t sure what to do. Was that how it was? If I could just surrender to this, make myself accept that I love her, all the anxiety and indecision would go away. If I could just do that…
But was that worth doing? Was it worth it to throw away my ability to choose my way in life? For what, some peace of mind? How cowardly… Yet, the way Himemiya had said it, it sounded inevitable. You can eat, or you can starve.
But what would it even mean to “starve”? If these feelings were really love, then I’d been ignoring them for a long time. I had been friends with Hotaru and Yuki for three years. All that time, I’d been keeping this bottled up. I could just go back to that. I could return to that way of living, keep on ignoring myself and others. I could go on living like that for a long, long time.
But I’d made a choice, hadn’t I? To become a better friend, to get involved in the world. Wouldn’t another retreat from the world mean going back on that choice? And wasn’t it because of that choice that I became aware of it all in the first place?
No, wait, it wasn’t. That was just a coincidence, right? The thing with Oshima just happened to go down now, and that’s how both Hotaru and I learned about Yuki’s feelings, and that’s what brought it all to the surface.
But… It’s like she had said. I must have noticed. There were times like this before, too. Yuki’s feelings were not particularly well hidden, and neither were Hotaru’s. The reason I could see how Hotaru felt this time, when I couldn’t before, was precisely because I had made the choice to not walk away from it anymore.
Still, even though I had made that choice, it was never final. I could always go back on it, it would always be possible. I might not have thought that I should do that, but I could. And then… Then, once I did go back on it, it would always be possible for me to go back again, and make that choice once again. And so on, and so on…
That’s right, no matter what I chose, I’d always be able to change my mind later. Wouldn’t it be like that with love, too? Yes… Himemiya had said otherwise, but that’s just a comforting story. It would be comfortable to no longer have to worry about this. All I needed to do was to believe that love was as overpowering and ineluctable as Himemiya had told me. And then keep on believing it forever.
Until I changed my mind, and stopped.
I groaned. It would just keep going on and on, wouldn’t it? Tomorrow, in the morning, I’d meet with Hotaru and Yuki, and I’d have to choose, how to talk to them, how to look at them, when to be together with them and when to leave them alone. I’d have to choose what to be like with Hotaru. And then, the next day, I would have to choose all of that all over again. And not just with the twins, either, the same would also go for Reika, and Chisato, and maybe Oshima, or Himemiya, too, maybe for everybody at this school. It would never be enough. It would never be done. I had opened Pandora’s box, and now I would have to live with what I’ve let into my life.
I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear going on like that. It was too much for me. I needed to turn it off. To find a way to live without this anxiety, without always having to be unsure about everything. I imagined Hotaru’s face, and my mind was filled with pain. This time, it was clear: I loved her. That much I understood. But I could not bear this; going on and on, seeing her every day, and always having to think, to figure out what it is that I feel, and what it means, never knowing if this is all it is, if this is enough, always having to make choices and live with their consequences, and still never being freed of the weight of that choice. I could not do this. Other people probably could. To normal people, this was simply what life was, so ordinary they never even noticed. I wasn’t like that.
So I stared at the sky, and screamed.
“I was wrong!” I yelled. “I change my mind! I can’t stay here! Please, take me back!”
And it came, just like last time. She came. First there was the light, and then, the stairway. I began to walk up.
And as I walked, I suddenly understood that even this was a mistake. Even up there, in that flying saucer, I would not be free of this world. No matter what I did, how I changed myself, nothing would be irreversible. Even for her, though she said she couldn’t go back to how she used to be — she was wrong about that, I was sure. I could go up there, and change myself, become like her, and still, every day, every moment of every hour, I could decide to come back to this world, or to intervene in it. I would still keep thinking of Hotaru and Yuki, and everyone else I had known down there. I would never be just an observer. Himemiya had been only half right. It wasn’t love that I could never walk away from — love could come and go, just like me — it was the knowledge that I could be a part of the world. Neither at Ohtori nor out there in space would I find any solace from that knowledge.
And even as I realized that, I did not turn around. I kept walking, and reached the top of the stairs. The door opened, and I stepped over the threshold.
As for what happened after that, well…
Do you know, do you know? Do you know what it was?
residentrain705 on Chapter 3 Mon 21 Apr 2025 08:14PM UTC
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cowtown on Chapter 3 Tue 22 Apr 2025 10:26AM UTC
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