Chapter 5: Finally, It Begins
Chapter 5: Finally, It Begins
By this point, it was no longer unusual for the CRC to receive visitors. There was a time when that alone was a sign that they would soon step into a new supernatural nightmare. And now the door was slowly, carefully creaking open once more.
The gap grew wider and wider until a figure was revealed—a tall male teacher in a business suit.
It was Gotou Ryuuzen.
Except it wasn’t.
Its posture was languid. Its eyes were half-lidded. Its presence instantly put everyone in the room on edge. It exuded an otherworldly aura no human being could replicate.
There could be no mistaking it: «Heartseed» was back, and their story was starting at last.
Taichi’s mind went white... and then, as if to make up for lost time, the whole room exploded.
“You bastard! How dare you show your face here again!” Inaba roared.
“Why is this happening again...?!” Nagase choked, unable to suppress her emotions.
“I knew it... I knew you were involved somehow!” Kiriyama shouted, brimming with righteous fury.
“It’s always you, isn’t it? Isn’t it?!” Aoki screamed.
“Then it looks like we’re going to have to fight you. This has to be settled once and for all,” Taichi declared.
Just when they thought it was over, surprise surprise, it wasn’t. «The Second» was wrong. With the arrival of their true enemy, their wilting passion flared up once more.
“You don’t understand... It’s not like I want to be here, either...”
«Heartseed»’s voice was lethargic and tepid, like it was just complaining to itself.
“So you didn’t choose this of your own free will?” Taichi asked the otherworldly being.
“Correct... Honestly... My intention was to wrap things up last time...”
“How can we possibly believe you? You literally told Taichi and Inaba that you were never coming back!” Kiriyama shouted in an accusatory voice.
“Well, I did my best to stay away, but...”
“You ‘did your best’? What a fucking joke,” Inaba spat. “Out with it, then: What do you want? First it’s «The Third», then «The Second», and now you... If this is some kind of joke, it’s getting stale. But the worst part of it is... I find myself actually hoping to have a conversation with you. Disgusting.”
Indeed, for as much as Taichi hated interacting with «Heartseed», part of him felt it was preferable to their other options. That was how numb he had become to the horror of it all.
“Yes... There’s a very important conversation to be had... but first...” «Heartseed» paused—not that anyone in the room was having trouble keeping up. “What did you talk about... with «The Second»... and «The Third»...?”
“What, so... you weren’t watching the whole time?” Nagase asked.
“I’ve been busy with stuff, you see,” it replied in the world’s most idle voice.
Meanwhile, Inaba was losing patience. “Apparently we’re not going to get anywhere unless we tell you, so fuck it—I’ll tell you. «The Third» said some shit about wanting to ‘get a closer look,’ and «The Second» told us «The Third» and «The Fourth» are inflicting phenomena not on us, but other people. Told us to stay out of it, basically. Happy now?”
“Ah... Yes, that’s about the gist of it... These ‘phenomena,’ as you call them, won’t affect you in any way...”
“Wait a minute—then why the hell are you here? If this doesn’t affect us, then what business do you have with us?” Inaba demanded.
This was a valid question, of course. If their time in the supernatural spotlight was over, then why would «Heartseed» bother showing up? For what purpose?
“Isn’t it obvious...? Aren’t your memories... starting to flicker...?”
Instantly, it clicked. Apparently their memory issues were a separate problem.
“Hmph... I get it now. So this memory thing is happening independently of the other phenomena, is that it? Alright then, what is it this time? Some kind of memory wipe phenomenon?” Inaba asked as though she’d already put all the pieces together.
But «Heartseed» shook its head.
“Phenomenon...? Ah... No, not quite...”
“It’s not? Whaddya mean?” asked Aoki.
“What you are experiencing is not a phenomenon... It’s the disposal.”
Disposal. The word had an eerie ring to it. Almost like they were machines on a conveyor belt, headed into a trash compactor.
“These memory lapses aren’t happening at random... or anything like that... The erasure will be permanent.”
Taichi’s mind reeled. Permanent? Not random?
“B-But it’s still just another phenomenon, right? The memories will stay gone for as long as it’s active, but once it ends it’ll all go back to normal? Right?” Nagase asked loudly, her voice full of forced cheer. Normally she wouldn’t try to sound that excited about any phenomenon, but compared to the worst-case scenario Taichi had just envisioned, anything was preferable.
“Ah... Perhaps this will make more sense...”
The five of them didn’t quite comprehend it—didn’t want to comprehend it—so «Heartseed» simplified its explanation for them.
“Everything that happened during the phenomena... will vanish... and your world will ‘go back to normal’... as though the phenomena never happened.”
There was a moment of silence in which the five of them stared, dumbfounded, at «Heartseed».
“Ah... Perhaps I should start with a general outline...” it mused after a moment.
From there, it explained that its kind existed in great numbers, inflicting phenomena across the globe. In most cases, the experiment would end after just one phenomenon, at which point all related memories would be erased from all affiliated parties.
“This world is by no means brimming with phenomena... but... they’re not unheard of, either...”
So it’s everywhere? We’re not the only ones? No, forget it. This is no time to be worrying about other people. First we have to figure out our own situation. We can’t take action without a solid foundation.
“When you say our memories will ‘vanish,’ what... what sort of scale are you talking about?” Inaba asked, like she was begging for the faintest hint of a silver lining.
“All traces of the phenomena’s impact will vanish... completely... And anything that happened as a result of the phenomena... will be undone.”
Vanish completely? Be undone? And what do you mean, “anything that happened as a result”?
“Okay, so for example... we’ll definitely forget that we ever switched bodies with each other, right?” Inaba asked tentatively.
“Right...”
“What about the secrets we learned during the swap?”
“Those, too.”
“And any trauma we consequently overcame?”
“If it’s something you wouldn’t have overcome otherwise... then it will be reverted.”
“What about any friendships that deepened through the Liberation?”
“Those will be reverted, too...”
“What about any romantic relationships that were forged during one of these hellish nightmares?”
“If it would have happened otherwise, the relationship will remain intact... Otherwise, I imagine it will be reverted...”
You’ve gotta be kidding.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me... You... You can’t be serious!” Taichi sputtered helplessly.
Meanwhile, Nagase was visibly shaking. “Surely we can’t forget all of that, right?” she asked in a hollow voice. “Those phenomena changed me. If I forget everything that happened, I won’t be myself anymore! The bonds I made with everyone will just... disappear!”
“I wouldn’t say that... Even if you lost the memories directly pertaining to the phenomena... I’m sure your lives would carry on just fine...”
I mean, yeah, maybe... but still...
“B-But... if you deleted literal years of our memories, don’tcha think we’d notice?! That’s a giant gap, man!” Aoki pointed out.
“Ah... To be clear, you won’t lose all memories of that time period... Just the parts that directly pertain to the phenomena... After all, surely there were still times when you had mundane conversations with friends... ate meals, went into town, did your schoolwork... Those things would have happened either way, and so they won’t be erased.”
Taichi sincerely doubted it would be as simple as «Heartseed» made it sound. It just wasn’t feasible.
“Okay, here’s a question: what about journal entries we wrote during the phenomena?” he asked. “Those wouldn’t disappear, right? So wouldn’t we just re-remember everything? Same for photos or videos we took.”
“Those would, in fact, disappear. Surely you remember... that drastic physical alterations are not beyond our power...”
“Wh-What, so you can just alter the universe or something? No way... That’s... That’s impossible...” Kiriyama croaked.
“Is it...? We turned you back into your younger selves, did we not...?”
Indeed, at one time, they had regressed into their past selves—both physically and mentally.
“You make it sound so far-fetched, Kiriyama-san... All we’re doing is painting over the past, really... and since we limit the duration and number of people affected by any given phenomenon... the impact is minimal...”
“Painting over the past” will have “minimal impact”? Don’t be ridiculous! Without those memories, we wouldn’t be who we are today! And besides...
“Even if you erased our memories, other people would still remember the events as they happened, wouldn’t they?”
“No, they wouldn’t.” «Heartseed» shot his question down point-blank. “I’m not sure you understand... Your world will revert back to how it would’ve been if these things had never happened to you... Naturally, your friends’ memories will be adjusted accordingly...”
As «Heartseed» explained it, all relevant events would be erased from the records of history; any gaps deemed unnatural would be smoothed over in whatever way made the most sense. In most cases, these gaps were fairly small to begin with, so it usually wasn’t much trouble.
“‘Fairly small’? We’ve spent the better part of the past eighteen months dealing with you!” Inaba hissed, openly flustered.
“Oh, I see... So that’s what you’re all worried about... Because I haven’t explained that part... Now I get it...”
“I don’t care if you get it. Help us get it,” Nagase spat.
“Basically... the five of you are a special case... Not only do you still possess your memories... you went through many, many different phenomena... Normally the duration is much shorter... resulting in a smaller impact overall... Key word: normally...”
“What part of this is normal?!” Kiriyama shrieked, and it was clear she had reached the limits of what she could tolerate.
“Normally a phenomenon lasts for a week... maybe two at the most... Then, once it ends, all related memories are erased from history... The end...”
One week? None of ours were ever that short! It’d take us a week just to figure out what was happening!
“In other words... You continue to possess something that should have disappeared long, long ago...”
The number of phenomena... The average duration... The total amount of memories built up over the past year and a half... All of these things were anomalies?
“Hold on a minute—let me get this straight!” Clutching her head, Nagase closed her eyes and began to mutter to herself. “So there are phenomena happening all over the world... Normally they only last a week or two, and after that they’re erased from history... But in our case, we’ve gone through a whole bunch of them for an abnormally long period of time, and we can still remember them...”
Likewise, Taichi started his own mental review of the facts.
“...Why haven’t our memories disappeared?” asked Inaba. It was the next logical question, of course, since their own phenomena-related events were very much present and accounted for.
“The biggest reason is because... you’re all so fascinating...” «Heartseed» paused. “No... Too fascinating, perhaps.”
Fascinating. Fun. Entertaining. It always came back to that, didn’t it?
“The fuck is so fascinating to you?!” Inaba screamed.
“For example... when the body-swap was at the height of its complexity... you all lasted a full month... That duration would have broken most people...”
Evidently they weren’t entirely off the mark when they suspected that their ability to endure the phenomena was part of the reason they were subjected to them in the first place.
“Basically... I’d like to leave the events intact, if I can... After all, once they’re erased from history... my memories will be erased along with them...”
“Hold on a minute... What do you mean, your memories will get erased?”
«Heartseed»: a being that seeks entertainment by inflicting phenomena on others. The criteria for “entertaining” varies between individuals. Once a phenomenon ends, the «Heartseed»’s memories are erased, leaving only the most essential data. And then the cycle repeats itself.
When asked why they felt compelled to do this, the only answer was, “It’s simply what we do.”
“That’s just what a «Heartseed» is...?” Taichi mumbled dazedly.
If «Heartseed» was in danger of losing its memories, too, then that suggested a couple of things. One: «Heartseed» wasn’t fully omnipotent. Two: There was something else out there even more powerful than «Heartseed».
This was perhaps beyond Taichi’s mortal understanding.
“Let’s just say... I’ve started to put two and two together... Thus, I’d like to avoid having my memories undone... if at all possible...”
This was a rather human sentiment, coming from «Heartseed». Almost... relatable?
“Alright, fine. I get it,” Inaba shrugged. “You purposely didn’t erase our memories because you wanted to keep your own. For your sake, I’ll go ahead and ignore all the logistical questions I want to ask...” She let out a mirthless laugh and continued, “So why are they starting to flicker out?”
They were having a metaphysically impossible conversation about a metaphysically impossible scenario. Was that their only option at this stage? Taichi wasn’t sure. His perceptions of “realistic” were utterly warped by this point.
“Well... they aren’t meant to remain intact... and as such... steps are currently being taken to wipe out those last traces... That’s all...”
“Then who’s behind it?” Taichi asked.
“Perhaps the easiest answer... would be «The Third» and «The Fourth»...”
“So that’s how «The Third» ties into all this? Wait... Then what about «The Second»? Is that one in on it, too?” Kiriyama asked.
«Heartseed» nodded. “Probably... Although «The Second»’s abnormal behavior is... something of an irregular case...”
“Okay, so to sum it all up: Once the phenomena ended, all relevant memories and events were supposed to get erased, but you chose not to do that... so now «The Third» and its friends are here to finish the job?”
“Yes... I’d say that’s a very nice summary indeed... Now, as I explained, a phenomenon usually only lasts one or two weeks at the most... Part of the reason for this is to keep the quantity of memories at a manageable size...”
“Wait, but... wouldn’t our quantity be pretty massive by this point?” asked Aoki.
“Precisely... which is why «The Third» brought in assistance... In order to erase memories at that scale, it will take a fair bit of preparation... Yes, the ‘flickering’ you’re experiencing is simply a sign that those preparations are underway...”
In a way it made sense, but it still didn’t feel real—more like the plot of a sci-fi flick.
“That said,” «Heartseed» continued, “would you be willing to... team up?”
Now there was a line Taichi never imagined he would hear.
“If we work together... we can stop it from happening...”
Fury flared up inside him. “Why should we trust you? After all the times you deceived us?”
“I understand that... but right now, we share a common goal... You don’t want those memories to get erased, correct...? I certainly don’t...”
A common goal? Was their situation really so dire that they had no choice but to join forces with the very being who antagonized them all this time? Who showed up out of nowhere and meddled in their lives to its heart’s content? And who now dared to stand before them and ask for their help?
What a joke.
“Guys, are we really gonna fall for this? I mean, our memories? Getting erased?” Kiriyama asked, trying (and failing) to smile.
“What about you three...? Surely you know better than anyone just how very possible it is... to have your memories erased by our hands...”
At this, Inaba, Nagase, and Aoki went completely pale; «Heartseed» was referring to the time during the Phantom Projection when Taichi and Kiriyama temporarily had their memories wiped.
“Back then... Taichi and Yui forgot all about us,” said Inaba.
“They couldn’t even remember they were part of the CRC... Instead, they just figured they were in some other club by themselves... Like their minds invented the easiest possible answer, and they just accepted it,” said Nagase.
“I guess... maybe we should accept that this memory loss thing is legit,” said Aoki.
Back then, Taichi and Yui weren’t permanently affected—they went back to normal eventually. This time around, however, the erasure would be full-scale. Not only would they lose their memories, but so too would everyone around them. And there would be no coming back from it.
At this point, Taichi was tempted to run out of the clubroom and never look back.
“Rrrgh! Damn it! God fucking damn it! Is there anything... anything we can do to combat this... I don’t know, ‘Record Wipe’ or whatever you want to call it?” Inaba asked. She was on the brink of losing it, but as usual, she refused to give in.
“Record Wipe...? Ah, yes... These things are easier to understand once you give them a name, aren’t they...? So much easier... The power of a name must never be underestimated... Oh, but... let’s see... As a baseline... I am currently attempting to... prepare a countermeasure...”
Crisis aside, «Heartseed» was being awfully detailed in its explanation this time around. This was quite possibly the longest conversation they’d ever had with it. Was this a sign that the situation was as urgent to «Heartseed» as it was to them? Taichi wasn’t sure... but if they were going to take advantage of its generosity, they’d have to act fast before it changed its mind.
“That said... I’d appreciate any assistance you could offer... For example, if you could... relay any information you happen to acquire... keep your distance from «The Third»’s group... and take steps to preserve your memories...”
“Not sure about the first two, but if you know a way to preserve our memories, then let’s hear it! Now!” Inaba commanded.
“Well... you could try to create something that could... help you remember after the fact...”
“Wait, what? Didn’t you say this thing was gonna erase physical records? Or am I tripping?” Aoki asked under his breath.
“It does, yes...”
“Quit fucking around with us!” Inaba raged.
“Ah, but... if it has no visible connection to the phenomena... it may not be subjected to the Record Wipe... So just try to come up with something that could remind you... in a more abstract fashion...”
“So no photos or explicit documentation?” she asked.
“Right...”
“...What, you want us to encrypt it somehow?”
“I can’t guarantee it will be effective, but... perhaps you could disguise it just enough...”
“Wait a minute,” Nagase cut in. “So we’re operating on the assumption that we’re definitely going to lose our memories?”
“Well... there isn’t much you can do to prevent it from happening... If anything, that’s my job... but judging from your current condition... it’s possible you may lose some memories well before their Record Wipe hits...”
“How much time do we have left? It’s not gonna hit us right now, is it?” Kiriyama whimpered. Perhaps subconsciously she had already come to terms with the reality that their memories were going to disappear.
“You still have some time. It appears that their preparations are not quite complete... Not to mention, «The Third» and the rest have other things to attend to as well... so I imagine they’ll be busy for a while... Granted, this is only conjecture...”
So their only option was... to create something that could somehow survive a full-scale history alteration. In other words, they were playing defense. And that meant they couldn’t just wing it.
“Alright, let me go over this one more time,” Inaba began, her eyes half-lidded, her tone lethargic. “So, any events or memories pertaining to our phenomena were supposed to be ‘undone,’ with all the gaps smoothed over. But you put it off because you wanted to keep your memories... and in doing so, you broke the rules, leading «The Third» and everyone else to show up. And now they’re preparing a Record Wipe to finish what you started.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. Likewise, Taichi could feel a migraine coming on. Then she let out a dry laugh.
“So now all of us, including you, have to figure out a way to fight it. And we have to come up with some way to encode our memories into something so we can maybe regain them after the fact... How idiotic.”
Evidently that was the end of the explanation as far as their story was concerned.
For the time being—no, more specifically, for the next 24 hours—they needed some time to process everything they’d just learned.
But this time around, the conversation wasn’t over just yet.
“Okay, so now explain why these phenomena are happening to other people!” shouted Kiriyama, her voice quavering. At this point, her love for her friends on the track team was probably the only thing keeping her going.
“Oh... We can talk about that some other time...”
“No! We’re talking about it now!” she roared fiercely.
In response, «Heartseed» regarded her with its usual cold, unenthusiastic stare. “Why...?”
“Because! Yukina and Misaki-chan are my friends, and... and they’re struggling!”
“So... you don’t care for the rest, then...?”
“Ha ha, very funny,” Inaba cut in sardonically. “We don’t have time for your little games, asshole. First, let’s confirm: There are phenomena happening to other students, yes? Specifically, five girls from the track team, as well as some first-year boys?”
“Yes, there are active phenomena... As for the people you specified, that sounds correct to me... I admit, I haven’t exactly compiled a list of all their names... so I can’t rattle them off for you...”
“So «The Third» really is the mastermind this time around?”
“Yes, that’s correct... The same individual who seeks to... erase your history records...”
“Wait, but... wasn’t that the whole point of them being here? So why are they messing with other people?!” Aoki demanded, sounding utterly at a loss.
“Good question,” «Heartseed» muttered, glancing out the window. “Their main purpose here is to erase your records, I’m certain of that... and preparations are indeed underway... but... it seems they’re doing other things in their spare time,” it mused.
“Just wondering,” Inaba piped up, “but is it possible to start up a second phenomenon right after your first one ends?”
“That would be fairly uncommon... but then again, so is conducting two at the same time within close proximity of one another... Normally we avoid that so the groups don’t interfere with each other...”
“Then why are they doing it?!” Kiriyama hissed.
“Well, the prep work for the Record Wipe is taking quite some time, so... perhaps it’s... something to do in the interim...”
At this, Taichi’s rage flared up. Keep your callous remarks to yourself, you bastard!
«Heartseed» seemed to sense this, however, because it quickly amended its statement:
“Or perhaps not... although the possibility exists. It takes effort to conduct a phenomenon... so that would suggest... they have some other objective...”
“Like what?” Inaba asked without missing a beat.
“Who knows...”
“How much do you know about «The Third»’s group and their plan, anyway? Because it kind of seems like you’re rebelling against the rest of your kind.”
«Heartseed» froze for a moment... in a way that felt different compared to all the other times.
“Indeed... I suppose we are on opposing sides... which is why it took me so long to work out their next move... hence I showed up late... They won’t attack directly, but... once they erase your memories... mine will be erased along with them... as will my rebellion... or so they probably hope...”
Not even «Heartseed», in all its omnipotence, had the full story this time around. Even it had limits it couldn’t exceed... For some reason, «Heartseed» was starting to feel a tiny bit relatable. Or maybe it was all in Taichi’s head. Yeah, probably.
“Anyway... I think I’ve gone over all the pertinent details, so... now all that’s left is for you to try your best...”
“Hold it!”
All of them had moved to say it—but Taichi was the fastest.
“You should know... we can’t just turn a blind eye to the victims of the current phenomena.”
He looked around at each of the others’ faces in turn. Sure enough, they all shared the same sentiment: they had to do something.
“Did I not warn you... to keep your distance from «The Third»’s group...?”
“Does talking to their victims count as ‘approaching’ them?”
“...Yes, it does...”
“What’s wrong with that?” asked Aoki.
“We don’t want them to start paying attention... If they find out you’re trying to evade the Record Wipe, things could get... complicated... But right now they’re occupied with other things, so... if we let them stay distracted... it will delay the Record Wipe that much longer...”
“Oh, so you want to use Yukina and the other victims as bait? You’re despicable,” Kiriyama spat. But «Heartseed» ignored her.
“Won’t it be kind of risky, trying to avoid their notice? I mean, they can spy on us whenever they want, right?” asked Nagase. Her apprehension was well warranted, of course.
“Well... I think you’ll be safe for the time being... They assume your memories will simply be erased later on, and so they aren’t paying that much attention...”
“Then surely we can help the victims to some extent,” Taichi pressed. And this still wasn’t his “martyr” side talking; he sincerely wanted to help those who were suffering the same way he had in the past. He was committed.
“Are you still going on about that...?” Surprisingly enough, «Heartseed» actually seemed kind of annoyed. “Are you serious...?”
Its words felt like an implicit threat, and Taichi could feel himself starting to waver—but then backup arrived in the form of Inaba.
“You can threaten us all you like, but I’m afraid sitting on our asses simply isn’t an option for us.”
“You think we can just leave our friends to suffer?” Kiriyama snapped.
“Not happening, dude,” Aoki chimed in.
“All this time, we’ve been trying not to let these phenomena break us. But in my case, it actually succeeded once.”
Taichi’s heart went out to Nagase as she spoke.
“But we never fully gave in to you, «Heartseed». That’s how we got this far.”
Her words echoed the sentiment in all of their hearts.
“Besides,” Inaba added, “if you’re done messing with us, then this is our last hurdle. We beat «The Third», and we’ll be done for real.”
This was the true final battle.
“So we’re gonna keep fighting, right to the bitter end. There’s gotta be something we can do to help the current victims, right? Out with it already.”
Only Inaba had the sheer force of will necessary to bark orders at a supernatural entity.
“I get the feeling you all know full well what a bad idea this is, but if you insist...”
Reluctantly(?), «Heartseed» explained that its species was unable to stop a phenomenon that someone else had started. It estimated that «The Third»’s phenomena would last one to two weeks, come to an end, and then the Record Wipe would go into effect, erasing it all.
The phenomena would end after reaching one of two conditions: either the perpetrator found it sufficiently “entertaining,” or the phenomena lasted long enough that the risk of hassle during the Record Wipe became too large to ignore. Normally the Record Wipe would erase all events pertaining to the phenomena, as well as anything that happened through the butterfly effect, but it would also patch holes where necessary.
“That said... during times of emergency, there is also a nuclear option...”
“What do you mean, ‘times of emergency’?” asked Inaba.
There was a pause.
“Tell us the truth, damn it! You have no reason to hide this shit from us!” she insisted. At this point, she was too desperate to hold back.
“If I tell you... I get the feeling things might... head in the wrong direction... but... if it helps convince you to work with me... very well,” «Heartseed» muttered after some deliberation. “Normally... we try our best not to erase more than absolutely necessary... that way we reduce our impact as much as possible... Plus, it’s less work that way... Of course, when it comes to patching holes... some small details must be sacrificed... but these things happen... However... there is an emergency shutdown option...”
Taichi really didn’t like the sound of that.
“In the event of an emergency shutdown... the result resembles what happened to Yaegashi-san and Kiriyama-san... The subject will lose all memories of their friendships with others in their group... and revert to mere acquaintances...”
“Wh-...?! Why the heck would that happen?! That makes no sense!” Nagase shouted, visibly flustered.
“This problem is avoided if the phenomenon ends safely... but in the event of a problem... the emergency shutdown will occur. It will erase the entire memory block... with none of the usual fine-tuning we do.”
“If you feel the need to erase one to two weeks of our lives, that... that’s one thing. I could accept that,” Inaba stammered.
To Taichi, her perception of what was “acceptable” was clearly slipping.
“But I refuse to let you fucks make us forget our friends!”
“Sometimes there’s simply no way around it,” «Heartseed» shrugged.
Should the phenomenon be revealed to a third party, cause a societal scandal, or result in a full mental breakdown for one or more participants—basically, anything deemed “too complicated to undo”—the emergency shutdown would trigger. Evidently it was their ultimate security measure to prevent any lasting wide-scale effects on human society.
“Ironic. This ‘emergency shutdown’ sounds way more complicated than the other way,” Nagase commented sardonically.
“Ah, but... curiously enough, it really isn’t... That said, it poses the same amount of risk to us as well, so... we generally avoid using it where possible...”
“What about last time?!” Kiriyama shouted hopefully. “After Chihiro-kun’s phenomenon, everything went back to normal, right? I mean, I remember everyone just fine!”
“That was... something of a glitch in the system... It wasn’t a real emergency shutdown, per se...”
“Okay, so... basically, we should avoid this emergency shutdown thing at all costs, yeah?” asked a discontented Inaba. “Which means, conversely, it would actually be more ideal to let the phenomenon end safely... Is that what we should strive for? They’d only lose a couple weeks’ worth of events... Fairly negligible, compared to the alternative.”
“...Perhaps so...”
“Hmmm,” Nagase murmured. “«Heartseed» always got bored with us once we achieved some level of stability... so maybe we should steer things in that direction? Teach them to ignore the phenomenon and go on with their lives?”
Perhaps their best strategy was, in fact, the very same one they themselves had used to survive their own phenomena. After all, it had proven effective.
“...Well, «Heartseed», I appreciate you talking to us about this,” said Taichi with a tiny hint of affection. Then Inaba fixed him with a withering look that said give me a fucking break, to which he replied, “Think about it: now we know what we have to do. We can’t just sit back and let them erase our past.”
They needed to stand up and fight, and for good reason.
“Let me confirm one last thing real quick,” said Inaba. “Are we allowed to talk to the victims about their phenomena? Because «The Second» told us not to.”
As usual, she was one step ahead of the rest.
“I imagine that warning was something of a formality... Frankly, as long as it’s not too excessive, you should be fine... While we prefer to limit the spread of information... you are already aware of what we do... therefore, there’s no point in hiding it from you... However... Let’s see... If you were to, say... inform them of rules they weren’t previously aware of... or other unnecessary details... that would be another story...”
The lines weren’t explicitly drawn out for them, so they’d have to play it by ear... but at least they weren’t completely powerless.
“Hmm... It feels like I’ve made some kind of mistake in telling you all this,” «Heartseed» mused. Evidently it could feel regret.
Perhaps that was why its final words sounded like a warning:
“Just remember... your first priority should be yourselves... Go ahead and look out for others, but... not at your own expense, please...”
And with that, «Heartseed» walked out.
■□■□■
The mood in the clubroom, post-«Heartseed», was neither cheerful nor gloomy. There was no single distinct emotion, and as such, it felt a little different somehow.
No one addressed the room. Instead, they sat still, deep in contemplation, occasionally shifting their weight or muttering to themselves. It was just... a lot to take in.
This was unlike anything they’d ever experienced, and their feelings toward «Heartseed» were jumbled up with their feelings toward their new enemies. How were they supposed to feel? They couldn’t choose between hope and despair.
But when «Heartseed» turned up, their brains all switched into combat mode, like some sort of Pavlovian response. Their behavior, subsequently, was influenced by those emotions—all five of them, united in heart and mind. This was how they’d supported each other through their phenomena... and this time, it was how they’d support their friends through them as well.
“Okay, let’s get real for a minute,” said Inaba, breaking the silence in the dull, murky air. “Worst-case scenario... they’ll survive losing one to two weeks of their lives.”
“It’s not ideal, but... it’s way better than an emergency shutdown situation,” Nagase agreed, her expression conflicted. After all, an emergency shutdown had the power to erase entire friendships.
“But in our case, we went through so many different phenomena for so long that... now everything’s complicated,” Inaba continued.
It had been roughly eighteen months since the start of the body-swap, and during that time period, they had survived six different phenomena. The question was: How much of the past year and a half only happened because of «Heartseed», and how much of it would have happened regardless? Which events were safe, and which were on the chopping block?
“If only we weren’t so abnormally fascinating... If only we’d never bumped into the anomaly that is «Heartseed»...” she mused.
Was there anything they could have done to avert their fate?
“Well, for right now, we just have to do our best,” Taichi assured them. “Our records haven’t been wiped just yet. We’re still us.”
“R-Right! We have to help Yukina! And all the others!” Kiriyama chimed in.
“Maybe our past experiences will help ’em stick it out!” Aoki added.
“We can do this. Let’s make it happen,” Nagase declared, her eyes brimming with the will to fight.
Meanwhile, once again, Inaba was one step ahead of them. “First and foremost, let’s make sure we avoid an emergency shutdown. All we have to do is make sure we all fly under the radar for the next one to two weeks. Just be careful not to hover over them too much so we don’t attract any unwanted attention.”
Perhaps their history could serve as a reference.
“Right,” Nagase nodded. “Other than that, all we have to do is... try to prepare ourselves for the Record Wipe.”
“Yeah, we’ll need to figure out some way to leave a coded message for ourselves... First, let’s each try to come up with something on our own. Then, if you think of anything brilliant, share it with the rest of us.”
“Okie-dokie!” said Aoki.
“You got it!” said Kiriyama.
“It’ll all work out... We’ll make sure of it,” Taichi declared. When the five of them put their heads together, they were unstoppable.
They’d spent the past year and a half fighting against «Heartseed»’s rules. This didn’t change anything. The only difference was that unlike «Heartseed», these new enemies seemed to actually want to ruin their lives... but even then, it didn’t change their gameplan.
Business as usual, no matter what.
■□■□■
With the battle officially declared, Taichi and the others sprang into action at last. As far as they knew, there were two groups currently suffering: the track team and the first-year boys. The CRC’s first step: reach out to the track team and try to talk to them.
They were worried about the first-years too, of course, given that they seemed to be experiencing the Liberation phenomenon, but when they got in touch with Chihiro and Enjouji, they were told that the boys in question had already left school for the day. But on the upside, they had narrowed down the victims to four boys in their class.
There was no track practice scheduled, but nevertheless, Kurihara and the other girls were holed up in the track clubroom. They must have arrived at the same conclusion the CRC once had: that staying together was the least risky option.
The sports clubrooms were located in their own cluster off to the side of the athletic field. Not only was it the middle of winter, but it was getting late in the evening, and no other sports teams were in sight.
“Hey, guys?” Kiriyama called through the door to Kurihara and the others.
These girls had been avoiding the members of the CRC for quite some time. At first they thought it was the effect of a phenomenon... and technically, they were right. But now they knew who was actually in the crosshairs.
The track team was avoiding other people—probably coerced into keeping quiet. They were suffering in secret in their own little isolated world. And they were experiencing body-swaps. Maybe they wouldn’t want to talk right now... but if so, that was okay. Sooner or later, the CRC was going to dig them out of despair.
“We understand that you’re going through a really tough time right now!” Kiriyama shouted. As the person who had a close relationship with multiple track members, she was in charge of outreach. “And maybe you’re not allowed to tell us about it, so we won’t ask you to! But if you did, we could try to help you find a solution! A safe solution!”
The door was open just a crack—wide enough to let them confirm that the track girls were, in fact, inside. They didn’t respond... but surely Kiriyama’s impassioned plea resonated with them regardless.
“But if the stress ever gets to be too much... if you ever need someone to talk to... just remember, the CRC is here for you.”
“You can talk to any of us! Me, Yui, Inaban... and if you’re cool with venting to a boy, there’s Yaegashi Taichi and Aoki Yoshifumi, too!” Nagase finished cheerfully.
This is our battle.
+++
Real talk, I’m at a total loss.
There I was, sitting in the living room. The TV was on, but I wasn’t really watching it—just kinda zoning out.
When everyone else was like “hell yeah, let’s do this!” I joined in, too—tried to keep up the morale. But I was obviously forcing it. We all were.
I mean... this Record Wipe is going to erase the past. For me, for the CRC, and even for some people outside the club. Like, come on. Sheer insanity. Without those “records,” I wouldn’t be me anymore! Put nicely, it’s like being reborn... but from a pessimistic perspective, it’s kinda like dying.
Does that mean my life is on the line here? Instantly my blood ran cold. Brrr.
Why do I have to feel this way? Isn’t it about time someone woke me from this nightmare?
I know we agreed to risk the danger to fight for our friends, but... honestly, man, I don’t know if we have room on our plate for this. I mean, we’re just ordinary teenagers! No special powers!
But when entire friendships are at stake, no way are we gonna shrug it off.
That said, I think we were at least partially bluffing as a defense mechanism... so if we lose morale and start to back down, it’s all over. The guilt of abandoning our friends will start to weigh on us, and we’ll slowly lose control of our own lives. So, for our own mental health, it’s better that we take a more aggressive stance, no matter the risk.
We want to fight both for ourselves and for our friends. Ideally I’d like to dedicate all our resources to both causes, but with enemies this powerful, 100 percent might not be enough.
We live each day the best we can—full-throttle, like it’s our last. I’m a “no time like the present” kind of guy, but... is that mindset enough to get us through this? Is it safe to think like that?
“You look like you’re thinking reeeal hard about something. Who’re you and what’ve you done with my little brother?”
“Oh, hey, sis. Welcome home.”
Then my sister walked in, wearing her business suit. (After she graduated college, she started working at a clothing company.)
“Ugh, it’s so freakin’ cold in here! Yoshifumi, get me some hot sake, will you?” She plopped down and slid herself under the kotatsu table without even bothering to change out of her work clothes.
“Sure, at dinnertime.”
“Aww, c’mon! Your big sister neeeeds to warm up after being out in the cold!”
She was still a pretty lady, even when she was giving me the puppy eyes. That said, this was probably the reason she couldn’t keep a steady boyfriend.
“Sooo, what’s on your mind? Let’s figure it out so it doesn’t make dinner all miserable.”
“...Are you drunk?”
“I got roped into attending this stupid after-work function, and when I got there, it was even stupider than I imagined—so I downed a whole pitcher and left!”
“Damn, that’s badass... but I mean, don’t destroy your liver!”
“Oh, please. I’m barely into my twenties; I can handle it. So whazzup?”
Ugh, you’re so annoying when you’re drunk. “Well, there’s a lotta crap happening in my life at the moment, and it kinda feels like I’ve got everybody’s fates in my hands... so I’m just wonderin’ if I should handle it the same way I always do,” I explained vaguely, since I couldn’t exactly go into detail.
“No.”
“Sheesh, that was fast!”
“What do you even mean by ‘the same way you always do’?”
“Shouldn’t you ask that before you answer...? Well, whatever. Basically, I like to live in the moment, y’know?”
“Hmmm... In that case, yeah, definitely no.”
“Wh-Why not?”
“You’re not strong enough to be holding anybody’s fate in your hands. Go put it back where you found it.”
“How would you know how strong I am?”
“Because you’ve been leaving early and coming home late these days. That’s a recurring thing with you every now and then, isn’t it?”
Uh oh. Granted, my sister was never one to nag about that kinda stuff, but apparently she’d still been paying attention.
“If it was just you, then that’d be one thing. As long as it doesn’t kill you, it’s your business. But when it comes to being responsible for other people’s lives? You’re just not cut out for that.”
This kinda pissed me off. “What are you talkin’ about? I’ve handled tons of crap like this!”
“Hah! That’s what you think. More like you floundered around and got lucky.”
“...Forget it. I’m done talkin’ t’you.”
“Ooooh, the little baby’s sulking!” she teased as she lowered herself to the floor and wriggled herself deeper under the kotatsu blanket.
Grrr. But before I could think of a good retort, she started up again.
“Don’t get me wrong—I like who you are as a person. You’re an optimist, and you always try to see the bigger picture.”
Was this her drunken side talking? I couldn’t see her face, so it was hard to tell if she was serious.
“But sometimes that just won’t cut it. And maybe that time is now.”
Her words cut into me like a knife.
“If that devil-may-care attitude of yours pushes you to bite off more than you can chew, well... I can’t have my baby brother causing trouble.” She forced herself back up into a sitting position. “If it comes to it, I’ll stop you myself.”
The look in her eyes was dead serious.