Chapter 4: Someone Else’s Story
Chapter 4: Someone Else’s Story
The next morning, Taichi and friends met up in the clubroom yet again. Together, they decided they would investigate not just their immediate surroundings but the whole school, all while simultaneously taking care not to frighten anyone. If the CRC was indeed the catalyst behind the phenomenon, then they would need to conduct themselves with the utmost caution.
Then, on their way out of the Rec Hall...
“Hey there.”
“G-Good morning!”
...they bumped into the two CRC first-years, Uwa Chihiro and Enjouji Shino.
“Wait, what the? Chihiro-kun and Shino-chan? Where are you guys going?” asked a flustered Kiriyama.
“This dimwit can’t find the textbook she needs for class and thinks she might’ve left it in the clubroom. Personally, I hardly think she needs a chaperone to retrieve it, but everyone yelled at me to go with her, so here I am.”
“Wh-... What about you guys? Aren’t club activities canceled until after finals...?”
The five second-years fell silent, unsure how to answer.
“...We’ve got a little assignment to take care of,” said Nagase, her voice cheerful with a tiny hint of frustration.
“Oh, is something going on? I mean, not to pry or anything.”
“Chihiro-kun seems really worried about you guys. I think he wants you to let him know if there’s anything he can help with.”
“I don’t need you to translate on my behalf, thank you very much! That is not what I meant!”
“Anyway, um... Did something bad happen?” Enjouji asked anxiously.
At first Taichi was confused how they could have caught on so quickly, but on second thought, these kids had known them for months by this point. Of course they’d notice when something was up. The question was: Should they tell them?
“I guess we should tell them,” Inaba decided.
“I wouldn’t want to drag them into it,” Taichi protested.
“True, but they were safe from the Dream Vision, remember? Plus, «Heartseed» already went after them once—it might do so again. They’ll be safer knowing what they’re up against.”
It was clear she’d thought it through.
“I vote we tell them. They’re part of the club, just like we are,” said Kiriyama.
“I agree,” said Nagase.
“For sure,” said Aoki.
While Taichi had some misgivings about the idea, he wasn’t strictly opposed to it, so in the end he relented.
“Let’s see, how much time do we have...? Alright, we’ve got about fifteen minutes. We’ll give you the general overview of what we’re dealing with.”
“The phenomena are still happening... and this time, it’s not «Heartseed»...?”
“And you don’t even know the rules this time around?”
Both Enjouji and Chihiro seemed skeptical, probably because so much of the explanation was guesswork.
“We don’t have any concrete proof just yet,” Inaba explained.
“But people are definitely acting weird, right? And you keep having memory blips?”
Chihiro grimaced. This conversation probably reminded him of the time during the Phantom Projection when he accidentally wiped Taichi’s and Kiriyama’s memories.
“I’m so sorry we keep dragging you guys into this crap,” Nagase apologized, bowing her head. The rest of the second-years felt just as guilty as she did, and they followed suit.
“No, no, it’s not your fault! It’s the... the enemy’s fault!”
“But if you hadn’t joined our club, then you wouldn’t need to worry about any ‘enemy’!” Kiriyama wailed, her eyes damp.
“It’d be a lot scarier to share the world with them without ever knowing they exist, Yui-san.”
“Oh, Chihiro-kun... You’re so... You’re so tsundere!”
“Cram it, Enjouji!”
Business as usual for the CRC first-years.
“You kids have gotten stronger... I’m impressed you can withstand it.”
“Well, Taichi-san, I think maybe my view of «Heartseed» is different from yours, since I’ve never been on the receiving end of a phenomenon before.”
He had a point; the Phantom Projection was something he controlled at will, and he was spared from the effects of the Dream Vision.
“Yeah... We’ve never truly experienced any of the phenomena,” Enjouji agreed, and Taichi was relieved to know their suffering was thus far limited. “B-But... in that sense, it feels like we’re outsiders... I mean, not that I want to take part in a phenomenon, but, you know... it’s scary to think maybe we can never truly relate...”
“If you feel like an outsider, Shino-chan, then it’s on us for making you feel that way,” Aoki declared loudly. “Don’t feel obligated to get involved!”
“N-No, that’s not it!” Enjouji shouted back. “I just... I want to help you wherever I can. I don’t want to be the sort of person who... you know... I don’t want to be a bystander,” she explained slowly, yet firmly. Anyone who mistook her mild personality for weakness was sorely mistaken; deep down, she was stronger than they knew.
“Besides, I already stuck my nose into this once,” Chihiro continued hastily, as if unwilling to let Enjouji hog the spotlight. “It’d be pretty lame of me to back out now. So yeah, I’m done running.”
Taichi could hear an unwavering conviction behind his words that conveyed precisely how serious he was.
Nearly a year had passed since they first met Enjouji and Chihiro, and that amount of time was more than enough for personal growth. These kids were probably working their butts off in ways the second-years couldn’t begin to imagine. And while at first they both left something to be desired, they were now trustworthy kouhai in their own right.
“Alright, you’ve both made your opinions known. In that case, we want you to help us as much as you’re comfortable with,” Inaba announced.
“Yay!”
“Cool.”
Both Enjouji and Chihiro looked pleased as punch to be treated as equals.
“Nnnn... Chihiro-kun’s all grown up... I’m gonna cry...!” Kiriyama sniffled.
“Aww, Yui! You’re like a mama bird watching over your baby, aren’tcha?” Aoki mused to himself, nodding.
However, the first-years seemed more worried about Taichi and the others.
“B-But what about you guys? There’s so much you don’t know yet... Aren’t you scared?” asked Enjouji.
“Seriously, don’t overextend yourselves,” added Chihiro.
“This is the part where I’d normally say ‘Nothing you two need to worry your pretty little heads over,’ but... then I remember what happened during the Dream Vision,” Inaba sighed. Indeed, their infighting had made for plenty of awkward afternoons.
“This time will be different,” Taichi declared.
“Yeah! This time I’m gonna act like the competent senpai I was always meant to be!” Nagase chimed in confidently.
The original CRC pentagon had gained two new faces, and now the seven of them were stronger than ever.
With everyone on the same page, Inaba started delegating tasks:
“Right now we need to figure out exactly what the hell we’re dealing with. I need you to ask around about bizarre incidents and report back if you find anything.”
“Yes ma’am, Inaba-senpai!”
“Understood.”
“Also... I strongly doubt this’ll happen, but in the event we forget about our friends, or the club... try to remind us, alright?”
“O-Okay... I’ll try!”
“Will do.”
The two first-years nodded firmly.
“Lastly... We don’t know what might happen going forward, so don’t hover around us too much. Think of yourselves like a backup generator, or a satellite unit.”
“R-Right!”
“Got it.”
“Oh, and just to be on the safe side, try to stick together as much as you can.”
“Oh my god, Inaban, you sound like a helicopter mom!”
“Sh-Shut up, okay?! I’m just trying to cover all our bases! An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure! Now then, am I missing anything...?”
But at that point they were interrupted by the bell ringing over the school loudspeakers.
“Wait... Isn’t that the five-minute bell?” Aoki asked quietly.
A beat later, everyone started running.
“Bye, Shino-chan! Bye, Chee-hee!” Nagase called as the two first-years headed off to their classroom.
Then Inaba and Aoki split off to head for theirs. Fortunately, as long as they kept up this pace, they would all arrive in time for the final bell.
“Good grief. I can’t believe we’ve got our kouhai worried about us,” Nagase muttered.
Kiriyama nodded. “We need to be setting a better example for them. Which reminds me, apparently my whole family’s worried that I’m ‘acting weird’ lately. Like, I appreciate their concern, obviously, but sometimes it just feels so suffocating, you know? I can’t let them find out about this.”
Personally, Taichi was amazed she could say all that in a single breath while running down the hallway at full speed.
“Yeah, my little sister said something along those lines last night. The last thing I want is for her to get caught up in this,” he replied.
Once a phenomenon started, their behavior would change in response to it... and at that point, their families would usually notice. (Specifically, Rina had commented, “Are you having another one of your high-stress episodes? Get it together, Taichi.”)
“Same here,” said Nagase. “My mom flat-out called my behavior ‘abnormal.’ She made me promise to stay safe, and to talk to her if things get dangerous.”
Her family situation was probably the most complex of all, since she and her mother only had each other to rely on. Theirs was a deeply complicated bond.
“Whenever a new phenomenon starts, there are times when I wish I didn’t have to go home,” Taichi half-joked.
“Same,” she replied. “I mean, we’re already meeting up super early and staying super late, so we might as well.”
A lot of the time, they were honestly better off staying together as a group.
“And when it’s happening every day, it gets harder and harder to come up with excuses,” Kiriyama muttered, grinning wryly. “If only they’d take a hint and let us do our thing when we need to.”
Evidently Taichi wasn’t the only one wrestling with family issues at the moment.
■□■□■
When Taichi arrived at the classroom and took his seat, he noticed one of the desks was still empty. And when he realized who it belonged to, his stomach lurched as goosebumps shot up his arms.
It was Kurihara Yukina’s desk.
She arrived at school around the end of first period, her once-pristine wavy hair now dry and frizzy. As her friends called out to her in concern, she gave them all a halfhearted, perfunctory response. Then she took her seat and stared down at her desk, almost like she was silently willing everyone to stay away... In Taichi’s eyes, she didn’t seem like she was doing too well.
“Good morning, Yukina,” Kiriyama called, a bit more gently than usual.
Kurihara and Kiriyama were best friends; Kurihara in particular always loved to smother Kiriyama with affection like she was her little sister. But today, Kurihara simply glanced in Kiriyama’s direction, then averted her gaze. She was blatantly ignoring her.
“Yuki—never mind. I’ll talk to you later.”
At first Kiriyama seemed primed to try again, but then she backed down; evidently she’d decided not to cause a stir. Looking back, Kurihara had openly avoided the CRC yesterday, too...
Then Nagase tried to talk to her, but the results were the same. And after second period came to an end, Kurihara staggered out of the classroom.
“Yukina-chan’s not doing so hot. Is she depressed? Did she break up with another crappy boyfriend or something?” Nakayama Mariko asked Taichi, clutching her pigtails in distress as she glanced furtively in the direction Kurihara had disappeared.
Wait, what?
An unidentified lump rose in his chest like smoke.
“Yaegashi-kun?”
“Oh, uh... yeah, she seems like she’s not feeling great. Maybe don’t hang all over her today.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. But for the record, I do not ‘hang all over her’! I’m allowed to be affectionate with my friends, ya big jerk!”
And with that, she (jokingly) stormed away.
It was during that conversation that Taichi realized something: other people had taken notice of Kurihara’s condition. Granted, she wasn’t exactly doing a good job of hiding it, so anyone paying attention was bound to see it, but... wasn’t the CRC supposed to be the root cause of Kurihara’s fear? If so... why was she acting weird with other people, too?
This was the CRC’s phenomenon... wasn’t it?
In the end, Kurihara never came back for third period. Now the whole class had started to notice that something was up with her.
“I really think she should go home and rest, but I know she’ll just say she’s fine,” sighed class president Setouchi Kaoru, looking concerned.
Meanwhile, Taichi, Nagase, and Kiriyama were having a discussion of their own. At this point, it was looking like they’d have to force it out of her.
“We can’t do anything until we know what’s going on with her, and like, I doubt she’ll be in immediate danger once she tells us,” said Kiriyama.
“She needs to just tell us what’s wrong. Then, after that, if she sincerely wants us to stay out of it, we’ll respect her wishes,” said Nagase.
“If nothing else, I’d like to put this Kurihara situation to rest,” Taichi agreed.
Admittedly they were getting a little impatient, but since Kurihara was such a good friend of theirs, they were confident they could patch things up in the end.
At lunchtime, Kurihara wandered off yet again... but this time, the three of them went after her. She walked across the hallway in silence, unaware she was being followed. Then she headed down the stairs and out of the main school building in the direction of the sports clubrooms.
Out here there was no one else around, which meant it was time to strike. They all approached her at once.
“Yukina, wait! Please listen to me!” Kiriyama shouted as she ran up in front of Kurihara.
Meanwhile, Taichi and Nagase walked up from behind, closing off her exit.
“I’m begging you, please, tell me what’s wrong!” Kiriyama pleaded.
Kurihara turned away from Kiriyama—then saw Taichi and turned back—then turned away again and saw Nagase. Panic set in as she realized she was surrounded. If the phenomenon truly did make the CRC appear monstrous to her, then this was probably frightening beyond belief, but for right now they needed her to suck it up.
“Come on, Yukina. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
The desperation in Kiriyama’s voice was as clear as day. But Kurihara didn’t answer; she simply shook her head fearfully.
“Come on!”
“Calm down, Yui. We can’t force it out of her,” Nagase cut in.
“Nngh... Sorry...”
Then Nagase turned to Kurihara. “Okay, but seriously though, what’s going on? If you’re struggling with something, we can hear you out. Or if it’s something we did wrong, we can make it right.”
Fortunately for them, it seemed this unintentional “good cop, bad cop” routine had worked in their favor.
“Look... I’m not doing this because I want to, okay?!” Kurihara shouted. “It’s just... He told me to stay away...”
He who?
“Nngh...!”
She grimaced like the cat was out of the bag—and then she took off running.
“Wh—Yukina—aah!”
Kiriyama reached out to try to stop her, but Kurihara shoved her hand away. Then, snapping to her senses, she turned back.
“I’m sorry, Yui... It’s not your fault!”
With that, she dashed away, tears in her eyes... and none of them could will themselves to go after her a single step further.
“Yukina,” Kiriyama whimpered softly, and Taichi could only imagine the pain she must have felt in that moment. He wanted so badly to help her somehow.
“She made it sound like... like someone’s forcing her to keep her distance from us,” Taichi muttered, thinking back to the one tiny detail Kurihara had let slip.
“But who would do that?” Nagase muttered.
Was someone out there, pulling the strings in secret?
“...Another impostor?” Kiriyama asked off the top of her head.
“That would make sense,” Taichi nodded. “What if there was another type of Phantom Projection that used our likenesses to go around threatening people?”
The possibility was there.
“But she flat-out said it wasn’t Yui’s fault,” Nagase countered.
“Right... Well, we’re not going to find our answer standing around here,” Taichi muttered. His mind was a mess, and he couldn’t think straight.
It felt like there was a giant contradiction tripping them up somewhere... One of their calculations was wrong, and in turn, it was throwing off all the rest of their data...
Just then, Taichi’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Someone was calling him.
“It’s from Inaba,” he explained, and with permission from the others, he answered it. What could this be about? “Hello?”
“Hey, Taichi. I know we weren’t planning to meet up at lunch, but something’s come up.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“It pertains to you-know-what. Is anyone listening?”
“Just Nagase and Kiriyama.”
“Perfect. Basically, I gave our hypothesis some more thought, and...” She hesitated. “Have you noticed that... only a select few people seem to find us frightening?”
Indeed, Nakayama Mariko hadn’t found him frightening at all. If anything, it was just—
“Oosawa Misaki, Kurihara Yukina, and those three other girls.”
All of whom oh so coincidentally happened to be on the track team.
“But what about the conversations randomly going mute?” Taichi asked. “That seems to happen with a whole bunch of people lately.”
“Set that aside for now. Obviously it’s not normal, but we’ll get to that. In terms of people who seem to actively reject us... who comes to mind?”
“...The track team. Like you said.”
“Right,” she replied in a low voice.
“So... what’s the significance there?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to bring it to everyone’s attention.”
And with that, the phone call came to an end.
“What did she say?” asked Nagase.
“Well...”
Only a select few people were behaving strangely and actively rejecting the CRC. Or rather, actively rejecting everyone around them.
What if the focus wasn’t on the CRC at all?
The unidentified lump of smoke from earlier began to change form until it was right on the tip of his tongue. If only he could get the words out, it would all click... but they just wouldn’t come...
“Uh, hello? Earth to Taichi!” Nagase shouted, bringing him back to reality.
“Oh hey, it’s Misaki-chan,” Kiriyama commented, and he turned to look.
Sure enough, tall, slender, short-haired Oosawa Misaki was headed their way, a vacant look in her eyes. She was one of the five track members who had started to avoid them; was she going to the same place as Kurihara? In which case, the most logical conclusion was that they were all meeting up in their clubroom.
Were they... hiding out in there?
Then she spotted Taichi and the others and came to an abrupt stop, her expression stiff, her lips pursed tightly together.
Kiriyama took one look at her and approached slowly. “Seriously, you guys... What’s wrong...?”
“Yui, wait,” Nagase called, then hurried after her. Taichi promptly followed suit.
Meanwhile, Oosawa stared at them intently... and a moment later, she relaxed. Blinking, she glanced around. Then her gaze returned to the CRC.
Her lips twisted in a pained smile, like she was holding back tears... or the urge to scream.
“Be honest... Would you believe me if I told you... that I’m Kurihara Yukina?”
That was all it took to turn Taichi’s world upside down. The revelation made his head spin. And then [Oosawa] went in for the kill.
“What if I told you... that people can switch bodies in real life?”
After that, [Oosawa] ran away, shouting “Pretend I never said that!”
They couldn’t stop her. They were too busy reeling from the bomb she dropped.
“Was I hearing things, or... did she say ‘switch bodies’? That... That can’t be it, right?” Kiriyama asked, her voice shaky.
“There’s a phenomenon happening, alright... but it’s not happening to us.”
Which could only mean it was happening to— No, that had to be ridiculous. Right?
“J-Just hypothetically, uh...” Nagase began, her voice unusually flat, “maybe... one of them made her say that to us on purpose...? To... screw with us?”
Good point. That sounded plausible. It was the sort of cruel joke «Heartseed» and its ilk were bound to enjoy.
“Or... if you want an even wilder theory...” She swallowed hard, and Taichi got the feeling he knew what was coming: “Maybe they’re inflicting phenomena on the people around us to... to mess with us that way?”
“You’re joking,” Kiriyama whispered, staring blankly into space.
It was just so surreal. They needed time to digest it. And so they went back to class.
But naturally, Taichi couldn’t focus on the lecture for a single moment.
His eyes were fixed on Kurihara, shrinking down into her desk like she was trying not to exist.
■□■□■
After school, the five second-years all gathered around the long tables in the clubroom.
“You freaking—why didn’t you come straight to me?!” Inaba raged as they told her what had happened at lunch.
“Sorry, Inaba,” Taichi apologized.
“L-Listen, Inaban! We all needed time to process it for ourselves, and... and we wanted to check on Yukina-chan when we got back to class, and... Ugh, I’m just making excuses, aren’t I? Sorry.”
“It’s just so hard to believe...”
Nagase and Kiriyama hung their heads apologetically. Fortunately, Inaba was understanding. “Nah, it’s fine... I can only imagine what a blow it must’ve been to witness it firsthand.”
“But did they switch for reals, though?” asked Aoki intently.
“It’s... hard to say,” Taichi replied.
“You didn’t make sure? C’mon, man! What were you thinking?”
“We... It all happened really fast, okay?!” Kiriyama spat, frustrated.
“Okay, you’re right. That was a dick thing to say. Sorry.” Aoki scratched his head awkwardly.
“So either they had her say that certain phrase to freak us out, or... they’re straight-up inflicting phenomena on other people to freak us out?” Inaba mused, ruminating on the possibilities Nagase had come up with earlier.
Considering «The Third» had introduced itself to them, and their memories of each other faltered seemingly at random, it would be weirder if there wasn’t a phenomenon currently targeting the CRC...
“I guess those would be the most viable theories,” Inaba concluded.
“Right? I agree,” Taichi replied, bolstered by her confirmation. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but—”
“Actually, hold on a second,” Inaba interrupted, staring into space. “This is a long shot, but what if...” She narrowed her eyes. “What if it’s some—”
Just then, the door opened.
“S-Sorry we’re late...” Enjouji Shino whimpered as she peered anxiously into the room. “You don’t mind if we interrupt, right?”
Now that they were up to speed on the latest bizarre occurrences, the first-years were essentially working as the second-years’ gofers. Their sudden entrance changed the mood in the room, but in a good way; the tension eased, if only slightly.
Nagase welcomed them warmly. “Of course not! Come on in. You too, Chee-hee.”
“I had a feeling we’d find you all up here,” Chihiro remarked.
“Any news? You should’ve finished cleanup duty a while ago... Oh, uh, come sit!” said Kiriyama, gesturing to the empty chairs.
“Actually, yeah. This time we’ve got something solid.”
“Whoa, really?”
“...This is what you meant when you said to report back to you, right?” Chihiro confirmed with Inaba, who nodded.
“At this point, any tiny detail could be relevant. Go for it.”
“Th... There was a fight...!” Timidly, Enjouji shrank down in her seat like she was reliving the memory all over again. “We just happened to be passing by at the time, but it was a big one. Even the teachers got involved!”
“That sounds pretty serious, especially for Yamaboshi,” said Taichi, his eyebrows raised. “You don’t hear about a lot of fights at our school.”
“And... and there was something weird about it, too. One of the boys kept saying stuff like ‘I didn’t mean to do that. I admit I was mad at you, but I never meant to take it that far. There was a [voice] in my head, and my body moved on its own.’ Scary, don’t you think? Like something out of a horror movie!”
Enjouji’s performance was rather impassioned, and Taichi found himself impressed by her acting skills... but that was just his brain trying desperately to avoid thinking about the implications behind what she had described. Because to him, it sounded an awful lot like the Liberation phenomenon.
Surely it would be insane to jump straight to that conclusion, and yet...
“Hold on a minute... Are you saying...? O-Okay, wait a minute. Can you describe him for me?” asked Inaba. Panic was written all over her face.
“Describe him how?”
“Anything you know about him. What’s he look like? Any defining features?”
“Oh... Well... He’s in our class...? As for defining features, um... he...”
“He’s pretty short?” Chihiro offered in Enjouji’s place, since she seemed to be struggling.
“Could it be that same guy...?” Inaba muttered under her breath.
“What are you talking about, Inaba?” asked Kiriyama nervously.
“Remember when I told you a first-year charged at me? He told me he ‘didn’t mean to do that,’ too.”
Wait, so... are you saying...?
“I think it’s probably the same guy,” Inaba continued in a hollow voice. “But given the timing, I completely misinterpreted it... Goddamn it! If only I’d had the sense to consider the other possibilities back then... Oh, but then again... if we consider our hypothesis at the time...”
“Wait, what? Back up, Inabacchan!”
Aoki clearly couldn’t keep up with Inaba’s line of thought, and admittedly, neither could Taichi. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t get the final piece of the puzzle to fit.
Inaba paused to think for a moment, then spoke. “Chihiro. Shino. Sorry to run you ragged, but could I give you another task?” she asked, her voice almost... mechanical.
“Uh... sure...?”
“O-Of course you can!”
“I want you to find out if there are any other people like him. People who’ve done something they ‘didn’t mean’ to do.”
“Wh-... What do we look for, exactly...?”
“Ask around for anyone who’s made similar statements to the one you heard. Or anyone who’s been acting out dramatically. My guess is, you’ll probably want to start with people close to this guy—people in his club, for example.”
“His club...?” Enjouji whispered, looking around at the second-years.
“And if we find any? What do we do then?” asked Chihiro.
“Turn around and report back to us. They’re probably not safe to approach.”
The first-years must have picked up on the gravity of the situation, because they leapt into action straight away.
“Alright then, we’ll be back later!”
“See you.”
“G-Good luck!” Nagase called after them anxiously.
And so it was just the five of them once again. Their numbers had only decreased by two, and yet somehow the room felt palpably empty without the first-years. For a long moment, they all simply sat there in silence... until...
“S-So, uh, real talk, Inabacchan, I’m totally lost here,” Aoki volunteered suddenly. “Are you saying they’re making phenomena happen to other people now? Why the heck—”
“Here I ammm...!” a voice called as the door opened. And this time, it was an uninvited guest.
That was how their “story” always started... when one of them inevitably walked in...
“Who are you?!” Kiriyama shouted, jumping out of her chair and adopting a battle stance. Likewise, Taichi rose to his feet, too.
This wasn’t Gotou. Hell, they weren’t even male at all. It was Hirata Ryouko, the math teacher, her body swaying slightly, her eyes half-lidded.
“...Hello...?” it asked in a soft, floaty voice that seemed to slip right past them.
“I know who you are,” Inaba began.
“Yup... «The Second»...” it replied, revealing its identity without hesitation.
“You’re joking,” she whispered in a shaky voice.
Somehow the room always felt a little different whenever «Heartseed» invaded it... but this time, it wasn’t even «Heartseed». So how far would the phenomena spread? When would it end? This wasn’t going to last their entire lives, was it?
“I’ve met you before...? Quite a few times, as I recall...?” asked «The Second», pointing at Taichi. The second its gaze shifted to him, a chill shot through him, piercing like a knife.
“Is that true, Taichi? Because I can’t say I was ever acquainted with this one,” said Nagase, clearly flustered.
“I’m pretty sure... No, yeah, it definitely talked a lot like this. Plus, it always chose to possess female bodies for some reason.”
Safe to say, this was (almost certainly) «The Second».
“It doesn’t matter if this is the «The Second» or «The Third»... or hell, even «The Fourth» for all I care,” Inaba snapped. “Either way, you aren’t welcome here.”
“Yeah, I know... But you seemed like...? You were struggling, so...?”
“Struggling with what? What do you know that we don’t?” asked a bewildered Kiriyama.
“Alright then... Since you’re all so confused... I guess I can clue you in?” it volunteered, as if out of the kindness of its heart.
“You disgust me. Why are you doing this?” Inaba demanded, though her voice was trembling.
“Why...? Because you people seem to think... that a phenomenon is happening to you...? I’m just trying to answer that question...?”
Evidently these otherworldly beings were in fact keeping tabs on them, though to what extent, it wasn’t clear.
“Well, what else would it be?!” shouted Nagase, looking like she was poised to lunge at a moment’s notice.
But «The Second» didn’t even blink. “There is no active phenomenon.”
There was a pause. No one moved a muscle. As if time itself had stopped.
“What are you talkin’ about? We know there’s a phenomenon. We’ve seen people actin’ weird,” Aoki insisted, though the uncertainty in his voice was palpable.
“No, there isn’t...? Oh, but... yes, there is...”
“Which is it? Please just explain it to us,” said Taichi impatiently.
“There is no active phenomenon affecting you. But for others... yes.”
Others?
“It doesn’t involve you in the slightest. You’re... outsiders...? Yes, outsiders.”
So we’re not at the center of it... nor on the fringe? We’re not in the picture at all?
“Then... then what are you... saying?” Inaba asked, her breathing labored. “That there’s a... a body-swap phenomenon happening? Not to us, but to the track team? And there’s a Liberation phenomenon happening to... to some random first-years?”
“Yep,” «The Second» replied—so casually, in fact, Taichi was at a loss. “For the most part, it’s all managed by... «The Third»...?”
“R-Right, this Third guy! If we’re ‘outsiders,’ then why did it come talk to us?!” Kiriyama demanded.
“Did «The Third» ever say anything about a phenomenon happening to you...?” «The Second» shrugged.
At this, Taichi thought back to the encounter.
—What do you want with us?
—Oh, I just wanted to get a closer look... That’s all...
When it said “a closer look,” it never specified at them. In fact, it never addressed the CRC at all... Had they simply jumped to conclusions about its intentions...?
“Wait a minute. What did you mean by ‘for the most part’?” Inaba asked dubiously.
“Well... Wouldn’t want to forget about «The Fourth», would we...?”
Inaba had just mentioned “«The Fourth»” as a throwaway joke. That didn’t mean they were ready for the news that «The Fourth» actually existed. After so many bombshells, Taichi’s senses were going numb.
“Anyway... As you know, «The Third» and «The Fourth» are playing with other people right now... doing all sorts of things... but it’s none of your concern.”
“Of course we’re going to be concerned! There are people suffering right now!” Taichi shot back.
“Act out of line and you might put yourselves in danger... and your friends, too...?”
“...What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s against the rules for outsiders to find out about what’s happening, remember...? Wasn’t that how it worked when it was your turn...?”
Evidently they weren’t allowed to interfere. This was someone else’s story now.
“Look... Is this another one of «Heartseed»’s schemes? To watch us squirm?” Nagase asked like she was grasping at straws.
“No...? Your story is over now.”
Apparently «Heartseed» was telling the truth when it said it was done with them.
“But—regardless, you have to acknowledge the fact that weird shit is still happening to us! We keep randomly forgetting each other! There’s gotta be something to that!” Inaba blurted desperately.
“Hmmm...? Hmmm...” «The Second» tilted its head for a moment, then nodded pensively. “That’s fascinating...”
“No, it isn’t!”
“Something is trying to happen to you... or perhaps... something is trying to un-happen to you...”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Taichi.
“...I can’t blab too much or they’ll get mad at me... I think...?”
“They” who, damn it? «The Second»’s vague, meandering manner of speech was starting to drive Taichi insane.
“Anyway... You’re not involved, so don’t mess with the people who are... That’s all I wanted to say... Bye-bye now...?”
“W-Wait up! Wh-... Why bother telling us in the first place?” asked Aoki, right at the end.
«The Second» tilted its head again—first to the left, then to the right.
“Because... it’s entertaining...?”
And with that, it piloted its borrowed body right out of the clubroom. It could’ve simply switched back with the body’s owner, but for some reason, it chose not to.
Perhaps, like «Heartseed», it had the good sense to put things back where it found them.
■□■□■
It was then that Taichi realized he had remained standing throughout that entire conversation. Defeated, he collapsed back into his chair. Now that «The Second» was gone, the whole clubroom felt desolate.
“How could it just waltz in like that...? When did we decide they were allowed to walk all over us...?” Kiriyama lamented.
Inaba pressed a hand to her forehead. “Is this whole school insane, or is it just the people around us? This isn’t normal, is it? God, I don’t know anymore... All I know for sure is...” She took a deep breath, exhaled, and finished: “They’re using other people for their supernatural phenomena now. There, I said it.”
Spoken almost as matter-of-factly as «The Second» itself.
“So they dropped us like yesterday’s news and moved on to our friends? Is that even possible? I mean, «The Second» literally said as much, so I guess the answer is yes... Are they just going to keep doing this...?” Nagase muttered to herself. “What even are these phenomena, anyway? Does this stuff happen all across the world and we just never knew about it until now...?”
“Maybe this ‘supernatural’ stuff is more natural than we thought,” Taichi replied, capping it off with a hollow laugh.
“God, I hate this,” Kiriyama growled in a low voice. “I hate how they toy with people’s lives. They’re monsters!”
Taichi was firmly inclined to agree. More than anything, what he felt was a deep sense of emptiness, but underneath that was anger at the injustice of it all.
“But it said nothing’s gonna happen to us, right?” Aoki asked, and instantly their fury faltered.
They were still angry, of course. Enraged, even. But that rage burned at a different temperature this time around. Having been through it themselves, they could fully empathize with the current victims... but that was all they had to offer. Their friends’ imagined pain simply wasn’t the same as their own lived experiences.
It was like watching a TV show; no matter how realistic the events of the story, it would never truly be “real.” There was always a barrier between you and that fictional world.
“You’re not going to suggest we just abandon our friends, are you?” Kiriyama pressed back.
“’Course not,” Aoki replied without missing a beat.
After a moment of thought, Taichi looked up. “We should do everything in our power to help them.”
Not because he couldn’t bear to see people suffering, but because he wanted to break the cycle and end «Heartseed»’s reign of terror once and for all.
“Then here’s our first step!” Inaba barked, her expression hard, as if to chase all the doom and gloom out of the room. Her soft, affectionate side hadn’t shown itself in quite a while. “Let’s find out if we can get rid of «The Second» and «Third» somehow.”
They would need to take drastic measures if they were going to combat this scourge... but...
“Honestly, I don’t think it’ll be easy,” said Nagase, conflicted. “«The Second» doesn’t seem interested in fighting us, and I doubt «The Third» will pay us a visit anytime soon.”
“Right,” Inaba nodded. “It’d be easier to formulate a plan if we had some kind of direct connection to them, but we don’t.”
“We’re ‘outsiders,’ after all,” Taichi muttered.
“Oho, so you agree?” Inaba blinked at him in surprise, then smirked knowingly.
“...Well, what choice do I have?” Not like he wanted to accept it, obviously.
“Sorry, that was rude of me,” she apologized, smoothing things over. “So, this brings us to Plan B: We accept that there’s nothing we can do about «The Second» or «Third» and simply wait it out until they get bored. In other words, the same strategy we’ve always implemented. But this time, we’ll pass it on to the affected students and help them through it.”
“Yeah, that makes a lot of sense!” Kiriyama nodded.
“Same tactics, just with different players. I don’t see why it wouldn’t work,” Aoki chimed in.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite that straightforward.
“That said, before we do anything else, we’ll need to evaluate whether this sort of direct interference counts as ‘acting out of line,’” Inaba continued.
“In which case... what exactly can we accomplish...?” Nagase laced her fingers together, then pressed her hands to her forehead in contemplation.
“I don’t know... I feel like we got plenty of help from so-called ‘outsiders’ during our phenomena,” Taichi mused, thinking back over the past year and a half.
“Oh, we absolutely did. But the thing is, they didn’t know about the phenomena. They weren’t trying to solve our supernatural problems—just the normal ones.”
“Your point?”
“My point is, it’s complicated. When it comes to the phenomena, we have a lot of information at our disposal; how will it come into play if we attempt to help the new victims? How will you-know-who see it? Will they decide the victims must have spilled the beans to us? For that matter, are these phenomena really this common? If so, why didn’t the victims before our time step forward to help us?!”
“G-Guys, don’t fight,” Kiriyama whispered feebly.
At this, Taichi snapped back to his senses. “Sorry...” He stared at the floor.
“I’m sorry, too,” Inaba replied, averting her gaze awkwardly. “You know, it’s funny... I never thought these phenomena would make me feel left out, but here we are.”
Her trembling voice permeated his entire body. They should’ve been over the moon to learn that their “story” was over... and yet Taichi didn’t feel happy in the slightest. Instead, his skies were covered in a thick sheet of clouds as he gazed out at the distant storm.
He wanted to do something, but what? As ready as he was to lead the charge, he didn’t want to run afoul of «their» rules and inflict more suffering on the victims. As long as that possibility existed, it limited the actions they could take.
In the end, it wasn’t his call to make. He couldn’t steer the ship without the cooperation of everyone aboard.
“I don’t know if you remember,” Inaba began, breaking the silence, “but during the Dream Vision, I kept saying ‘we don’t have to let this story start.’ Well, this time around, we don’t even get that option... because this time, it’s someone else’s story.”
This was Inaba’s preferred analogy. For other people, the story was moving along, right on schedule... but for them, nothing was happening. The story refused to start. And if they weren’t part of the story, then they would remain outsiders.
“...Hmm? What’s up, Iori-chan?” Aoki asked. “I see you glancin’ around at us.”
“Oh, I was just wondering—who might these fine folks be?” Nagase asked without a shred of hesitation.
Her expression was so innocent... Taichi’s blood ran cold. This was no light-hearted joke; it was an honest question.
“Wait... No, that was a joke!” Nagase shouted, her eyes wide. She leapt to her feet, knocking over her chair in the process. “Just a joke! Haha! A funny gag!”
But the sweat sparkling on her forehead told them everything they needed to know.
What was happening to them? If there was no active phenomenon affecting them, then why did they randomly keep forgetting each other? Wasn’t their story over?
Or perhaps... now that it was over, was «Heartseed» trying to destroy the evidence...?
And then the door opened again.