Part 62: Heartbreak
Part 62 - Heartbreak

Sh, she felled me with a single blow....
What an unlikable girl, ignoring the kindness of someone's heart. Or was this the stubbornness that tsundere characters are guaranteed to come equipped with?
I won't moe over something like that in the third dimension!






They'd studied that together? In a certain sense, it made for an amusing prospect, but....






Kozu-pii stared steadily at Sena as she began to weep. If she pulled this trick, even Sena--






I, I'd seen something truly valuable.... Totally different from how she'd been when she was rattling off stuff about outstandingly abstruse theories shortly beforehand. Dere mode was the absolute best.
I'd had another glimpse of the possibilities available to the third dimension.
GJ, Kozu-pii.
As a result, I gave my winning popsicle stick to Sena. Unexpectedly, she took it without putting up more resistance.

Since she glared at me as she ostentatiously reshouldered her Di-Sword, I soon lowered my eyes.
I'd given her a present, so why did she have to threaten me? I just couldn't deal with her. I wondered if she'd do me the favor of staying forever in dere mode....






I felt like I'd told her before, but.... Apparently she'd forgotten me.







Saved her.... huh. What had happened in Kozu-pii's past....
It also bothered me that she had mentioned "wishing to kill."





You sure you're speaking Japanese?



Sena didn't appear to be saying it as a joke. She wasn't the type to joke around.










....Kozu-pii, is Sena lying?


The chill in her voice made me shudder. Naturally, I couldn't bring myself to meet her eyes.

Uuuh, why was she so violent.... Had I done anything wrong?



Sena let me go at once.




Sena laid a finger against her chin and lapsed into thought.


A volatile atmosphere. Unidentifiable anxiety. Sena knew something.
What the heck was it....? Who were the people trying to abuse the power of Gigalomaniacs?

Kozu-pii abruptly piped up in a cheery voice, pointing at something. It was--







Obeying the on-screen instructions, Kozu-pii kept pressing the buttons without obtaining our consent.
Before Sena and I had time to mentally prepare ourselves, a voice came out of the screen.
Photo Booth: "Okay! Strike a pose! Click!"




If possible, I didn't want to be left alone with Sena.
Except, she didn't seem to be interested in heading home. Did she plan on wandering around the area again, as she usually did?
I'd have liked leave at once, but beforehand, there was just one thing I wanted to ask the Gigalomaniacs Ph.D. no matter what.


Even if I called out to her, Sena retained her ill-humored expression.
It had been better when Kozu-pii was here, but she remained off-putting....
Heart thumping, I asked my question, deciding to assume my voice had reached her.

I didn't expect her to give me an answer. Whatever the case, I figured it would end with her going "Hmph" and laughing at me.
Sena cast a glance at me, than shifted her eyes to the jumbotron by the pedestrian scramble.

She responded thus.





I myself hadn't delivered any delusions to Kozu-pii's dead spots.
If that were the case, Kozu-pii should only have been able to send a one-way transmission.
Yet we'd carried out a successful conversation with the voices of our hearts.


'Seeing' delusions? Could someone really do that?
I couldn't. So I didn't think I was a Gigalomaniac....
With a suddenly distant look in her eyes, Sena transferred her line of sight from the jumbotron to the crowd walking in the pedestrian scramble.







OST: Doubt

Even so, she faced this ability in her own way, and somehow, she had managed to lead a peaceful lifestyle by concealing it from other people.

Once she entered high school, Kozue began to frequently spot the reflections of "mirrors" as she went about her everyday life.
At first she had thought it a mere coincidence. It happened only about once or twice a day.
But as the months went by, that frequency gradually increased.
She would encounter people in possession of "mirrors" over ten times per day.
Those encounters themselves were nothing special--she saw people passing her on the road carrying mirrors, or students in the same grade as her fixing their makeup in the bathroom, nothing more.
But whether it was a coincidence or something intentional, the reflection in the "mirrors" almost inevitably struck her eye.
At last those who bore the "mirrors," all of them, began speaking to her in "voices containing insinuating laughter."

In her classroom, in the school building, on the way to school, while she was shopping; such people appeared wherever she went.
It wasn't any particular person. On the contrary, there were different people each time.
But to Kozue,
Everyone holding a "mirror" began to seem suspicious.
Everyone "laughing insinuatingly" began to seem suspicious.
At last she began to have the hallucination that even those without "mirrors" were asking her, "Who are you?"
She became borderline neurotic, and those internal voices clung to the depths of her ears, refusing to leave.




Ever since, she ceased speaking. She became unable to look at mirrors.
Despite that, the demands of "Who are you?" continued to reach her.
She could no longer even tell whose inner voice it was.
A broken fax machine, incapable of blocking incoming transmissions. Considering the conditions set by her unique predisposition to hear the voices of other people's hearts, there was nothing she could do about it.
Kozue's heart went to pieces.

Three sophomore girls whispered something to each other while using hand mirrors to put on makeup in the classroom.
"Mirrors" and "insinuating laughter."
And the calls of "Who are you?" she thus came to hear. Were they actually the inner voices of her three classmates? Or else one of Kozue's aural hallucinations?
She didn't care which.
As Kozue's eyes quivered in terror, a mirror's reflection entered them.
For a second, her field of sight went bright. Was it on purpose? Or a coincidence?
She didn't care which.

Before she knew it, she was screaming--rather, shrieking. Her instinctive "desire to kill" controlled her.
For the first time, she seized the Di-Sword she could see at the edge of her field of sight.


OST End


To see Rimi.
Surely my juvie classmates would taunt me about this and that today as well.
That was tough enough, but when you weighed it against the possibility of being able to meet Rimi, I could still put up with it.
I recalled yesterday's events as I passed through the school gate. Sena had emphasized her warning as we parted.




In any case, I couldn't get my hands on a Di-Sword no matter how hard I tried. I'm no hero. I'm only a waste of space who can't even do a decent job of protecting his own little sister.
Except--

Apparently he was targeting me as if we were playing a game. So the next "quest" might begin at his whim anytime now.
That terrified me.
Even my attempts to acquire a Di-Sword had originally been for the sake of protecting myself from "Shogun."
Swordless, how could I escape his evil grip?
If Rimi were with me?
But it bothered me that Rimi was taking time off from school. What would I do if, this time around, Rimi were taken hostage the way Nanami had been?

The candidates would have to be those with Di-Swords.
Ayase was injured, so that took her out of the running.
I didn't think Sena would help me.
And Kozu-pii was a little.... no, considerably weird....

Before I got to my seat, I took one look around the room.

Empty.
Was she absent today, too? Was she really just skipping? Insecurity flickered through me.
I wanted to meet with her.... I wanted to see her cheerful face.
Next, Kozu-pii's seat.

When I remembered the story Sena had told me yesterday, it made sense that Kozue-pii always carried herself this way.

--Good morning, Kozu-pii.
Our eyes didn't meet, but we internally exchanged morning greetings.
The delinquent girls watched me, grinning.
It was the day after yesterday. I wouldn't yet be able to peel of the label of "self-proclaimed psychic boy who's actually an otaku freak and made an idiot of himself on TV."
The male thugs appeared not to have arrived yet. They often skipped our first-period class. Which was convenient for me.

And then that voice-- Called my name.



She seemed faintly bashful as she gave me a little wave.


She wasn't an illusion.
She had a definite presence.
She was breathing.
Her hair stirred.
She was blinking.
She was there.
She was here.
Something burned in the depths of my nose. I was assaulted by a squeezing sensation in my chest. I was about to weep.
Half-standing in my chair, I went motionless, head hanging.



I frantically shook my head. If the juvies nearby knew I'd cried here, they'd torment me again.
I told myself I shouldn't cry. But the tears kept overflowing.


Rimi said in a bright, joking tone, and all I could do in response was go on shaking my head desperately.
Still more, I couldn't look at her face properly. If I did, I'd definitely start bawling....
That was when someone tapped me on the back.

It was Misumi-kun, looking ill at ease. The hand he patted me with was considerably more restrained than it used to be.
Even though he'd ignored me before.... I wondered why he was being nice enough to talk to me again.
Talking with me would definitely bring misfortune on him. He'd end up being the target of the class juvies' bullying.
Right, it would be better for them if neither Rimi nor Misumi-kun put up with a creepy otaku like me--
When I held my silence, Misumi-kun put on a forced smile.



If you asked how I knew, it was because he'd always said such things to me.





I nodded ambiguously. Somehow, my tears had stopped.
The usual scene lay before me.
Neither of them acted concerned by the fact that my position in our class was becoming something very bad.










It was a typical topic for Misumi-kun, sure enough. But because I'd been positive he would ask me about psychic powers or something, it startled me.
Misumi-kun kept chatting afterwards as well.
It was the same as every time before now, with Misumi-kun rattling on by himself, Rimi occasionally jumping in to poke fun at him, and me only grunting vaguely.





The Nozomi Group.
A large enterprise, with numerous subsidiaries, which carried out its business with ministerial authority from the government.
Its subsidiaries had started up business in a variety of fields, from the sale of clothing and groceries to trading in the capacity of a distributor of imports, and they had accomplished measurable achievements.
Norose, who stood at the top of the group and reigned over it, gazed down at the view he could see from his personal castle.
His consciousness, however, was not turned toward the scenery.
While wearing a mocking smile on his mouth, he tapped the floor irritatedly with his toes countless times.
OST: I'm rounder









Norose walked up to his desk.
The top of his solid-looking desk, carved from natural oak, had little of the decorative about it and was burdened only with office-like items.
Except, there was one thing that gave off a different color from the others, and it had tumbled carelessly toward the edge.
Norose picked up that green, bizarrely designed mascot character. He gave it a bored glance, and tossed it in the wastebasket.

His narrowed eyes swung toward the room's dim interior.


















Norose nodded in satisfaction and, blowing out smoke, returned his gaze to the scenery beyond the window.

However, he usually thought to himself that he'd give passing marks to the view from somewhat separated places like this building.
But then, this nightscape would soon become something one could never see again. As a result of the final experiment performed in his Project Noah.

OST End



Lately Rimi had been inviting me to eat with her, but as you might well imagine, I became embarrassed and ended up refusing.
Which was why, when we reached lunch break, I left the classroom and retreated to a place where I could find peace.
At times it was the library, and at times it was the courtyard.
But after the previously mentioned disturbance, everyone in the school had come to recognize my face, and I couldn't calm down no matter where I went.
Gazes stabbing into me without mercy. Sneers and insults thrown my way.
Today, too, I walked around school, but it had the opposite effect of exposing me to even more disparagement, and when I thought I had no other option but to flee to the bathroom--

Come to think of it, I hadn't spoken to Nanami once since that incident. I'd avoided bumping heads with her all week long.
Because I hadn't known what kind of expression to make when I saw her.
I was the worst kind of brother, one who had prioritized my own life over hers.
It was no more than a miracle that Nanami had been safely released. I hadn't done a thing.
Maybe "Shogun" had told Nanami it was my fault he'd abducted her.
If so, she'd definitely be furious at me. She'd disdain me, and maybe she wouldn't listen to me.
That was why I didn't have the courage to go see her.
But now that I'd spied her like this, of all times, I started to get worried.



But I shook my head to rid myself of them.
That severed hand, and the bracelet it wore, and the cell phone it held,
All of them had been delusions. Realistic delusions.
Because the hand was no longer in my fridge. It seemed more natural to think that, rather than having vanished, it "hadn't been there from the start."
Nanami being alive and well like this served as proof of that.



My sister's right sleeve slipped down a little as she twisted her hair.
Sensing something wrong, I gulped down my voice.

I'd seen it.
It was a very minute sense of wrongness, one that truly didn't matter at all, but--
But--

Wound around.
Inconspicuous.



