Chapter 6: Showdown

Taichi had split away from the group, so when he heard Katori’s announcement, he ran straight for the gym. But when he didn’t see anyone else from the CRC there, he turned back and headed for the clubroom. There, he found three people: Inaba, Chihiro, and Enjouji.

“You’re late! Didn’t I tell everyone to meet up in front of the Rec Hall?!” Inaba raged.

“Well, Katori wants us in the gym, so I’d figured we’d all meet up there.”

“No word from Iori, Yui, or Aoki... Tsk! Well, how’d it go? Any luck?”

“Well, their reaction was definitely different this time around, but as you might expect, no one was outright eager to join our side. As it stands, Watase and Ishikawa are the only people who’ve explicitly told me they’ll trust us.”

“Th-That’s still an incredible accomplishment on its own!” Enjouji exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

“Then I tried to bribe Sone and Miyagami by saying I’d teach them how to get a girlfriend, but they both got so offended, they nearly punched my lights out.”

“And you would have deserved it,” Chihiro remarked, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

In the end, it took a fair few minutes to get the whole club together, so they were late to arrive at the gym. By then, almost everyone else was already there.

That said, the crowd looked a great deal smaller compared to the initial 100-plus headcount. Taichi estimated it was about the same size as the audience they’d spoken to on the one occasion they’d gone onstage — approximately 80 students, including the student council and the CRC themselves.

As he looked around the room, he spotted students that had previously never bothered to show up. According to Katori, this was the last assembly he would need to call for... because they were going to escape. And since that was such an appealing prospect, chances were good that the entire population of the Isolation Zone was currently present.

Considering they’d started with 118, this would mean they’d lost... more than 30 students?

The students were gathered at the far end of the room. On the other side of the crowd was the student council and outreach committee... and yet Katori Jouji was nowhere to be seen. Where was he?

In just a few moments, though, Taichi felt a strange fervor spread through in the air. Everyone was looking up at the stage and yearning for something with all their hearts.

«The Third»’s group was conducting an experiment to observe changes in the human heart. Here in this petri dish, emotions of every stripe arose and vanished — emotions that would normally never occur back in the real world. Some of these feelings were positive, while others were negative. So how would one describe the feeling currently dominating the room?

It was so intense, Taichi could practically see the whirlpool of emotions threatening to consume everyone in the vicinity.

Then one person appeared, summoning the entire whirlpool to him. He had style, poise, and a handsome face... and when he stood above the rest, it gave him a natural sense of authority. It was the student council president, Katori Jouji. He positioned himself behind the mic.

“We need to end this. We need to go back to the real world,” he stated calmly, and in a way, he seemed almost... above it all. “We’ve confirmed that the fistfight method does indeed work — we’ve tested it on a dozen different people. And new information has come to light.”

“Get ready. We may have to stop them by force,” Inaba cautioned the others, tension audible in her voice.

“As it turns out, the fistfight can be with anyone, not just your group members.”

“For now, let’s get onstage and start a debate. We don’t need to win; we just need to buy some time. Katori’s dead serious about making this the last assembly, and the mood in the room—”

“Now then, let’s go out with a bang, shall we? All of you, start punching each other.”

It felt like the kind of suggestion only a monster would make. Surely no one would agree to it, right? Who would want to take part in a mass brawl with their friends? Especially since they knew the risks — that participants showed signs of memory loss right before disappearing. Surely this wasn’t what everyone wanted... and yet no one said a word.

Was their silence... tacit approval...?

“Go!” Inaba commanded.

But right as they took their first step, Katori stopped them.

“I’m not letting a single one of you set foot on this stage, CRC. Didn’t you people get the hint last time?”

Following Katori’s gaze, the entire crowd turned and looked at the CRC. The looks on their faces were far from encouraging. In fact, they were downright hostile.

Taichi could practically hear their silent demands: Stop. We’re leaving. We’re ending this. We’re going home. We’re taking action. We’re getting out of here. We’re done. It’s over. We want to forget. You’re getting in the way. The whirlpool of negative emotions threatened to engulf him.

But what of the scant few people they’d managed to convince?

Taichi made eye contact with Watase and Ishikawa. They stared down at the floor in silence. Granted, in a crowd like this one, anyone would be terrified to openly oppose the majority opinion. Watase and Ishikawa had only said they would trust the CRC and nothing more.

Their gazes all bored into him. His knees were shaking. Nevertheless, he took a slow step forward on leaden legs. Likewise, the rest of the CRC followed suit.

But the crowd didn’t stop them; they simply watched as the seven friends walked all the way to the set of stairs leading up onto the stage.

“Don’t let them get up here. Surround them!” Katori commanded.

Instantly, the student council and outreach committee leapt into action. Seven bodies blocked their path. That number wasn’t insurmountable — but it was increasing. Other students were starting to join in.

“The President’s right!”

“Yeah!”

“Butt out already!”

Each of them voiced their support of Katori as well as their opposition to the CRC. Now there were ten students in the way.

Aoki, Taichi, and Chihiro stepped forward to protect the girls of the CRC.

“I wouldn’t cause a scene if I were you. If a fight breaks out, why, someone might disappear,” Katori sneered from onstage.

“Who says we need to fight with our fists?” Chihiro shot back. He started to move, but Inaba held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t. If we resort to force, we’ll lose the high ground... Honestly, everyone should be able to hear us as long as we make sure to project our voices. Problem is, what do we tell them, and how?”

The CRC didn’t have a request to make of literally everyone. So what was their next move? Taichi’s mind raced as he tried to think of something. Then he struck upon an idea: to single out one specific person standing right in front of them.

“What about you, Fujishima? You’re totally fine with this?”

But Fujishima didn’t even look at him. Almost like she hadn’t even noticed he was standing there.

Beside him, Inaba took a deep breath.

“Do you really think now is the time to force your way out of here by destroying your friendships and putting everyone at risk of losing their memories?! Banding together is the safer option and it’s more effective!”

“No, it’s time to quit. Now. These people can’t take it anymore — isn’t that right, folks?”

The students in the crowd were visibly nodding.

“You can’t just give up!” Kiriyama shouted.

“If anyone’s ‘given up,’ it’s you people!” someone shouted back. And since it wasn’t clear where it came from, it felt like the entire crowd had said it... which made it even scarier.

The CRC wanted to help everyone have a change of heart, but there were just too many people. They couldn’t begin to connect with all of them on an individual level. And now that the people had lost faith in them, there was simply no way they could have a meaningful impact on the entire population.

A wall of people moved between the CRC and the stage. Consumed by the whirlpool of emotions, they almost looked like evil spirits. Could Katori really control these people without getting dragged beneath the surface?

What was that boy planning? What was that girl thinking? How was that other boy feeling? What about that other girl next to him?

No matter what the CRC said, it wouldn’t reach the entire crowd... but they didn’t have the time or the composure to address each person individually, either. They couldn’t turn the tables. They were... out of options...?

“So how about it, folks?” Katori called.

No one opposed him... but no one voiced their support, either.

The students started to whisper amongst themselves.

“Right now?”

“What should we do?”

“What choice is there? We gotta do it.”

“You mean, actually do it?”

Very few people seemed to outright oppose Katori’s idea, but most of them weren’t eager to get started, either. Taichi got the sense that they were reluctant to do it on command. It didn’t help that no one seemed to know what would happen after they vanished, either.

“...Hey, Inaba? Guys? What if Nagase and I did a repeat performance of the stunt we pulled earlier?” Taichi whispered to the others. As far as he could tell, the students surrounding them were too busy talking amongst themselves to pay attention right now.

“You’re talking about the thing you did in front of Watase and Ishikawa, right? I suppose if we’re able to prove that it doesn’t work on us, it might render the whole thing pointless,” Inaba murmured, brow furrowed.

“If we make a big scene, I’m sure they’ll all see it,” Nagase added.

“Maybe it’ll break up this awkward tension they’ve got goin’ on,” Aoki commented.

“I’m not confident, but...” Kiriyama shot a glance at Chihiro and Enjouji.

“I mean, if it’s our only option...” Chihiro trailed off.

“Th-Then we’ve gotta do it!” Enjouji exclaimed.

And with that, Taichi was committed. “Alright—”

Suddenly, vice president Sasaki grabbed his arm. It was so out of the blue, Taichi couldn’t help but stare in surprise.

“Everyone, restrain the CRC,” Sasaki commanded, and the rest of the student council took action immediately, seizing the other CRC members.

“Huh?”

“What the heck?!”

“Don’t touch me!”

“Huhwha?!”

“...What the?”

The level of restraint varied widely; Taichi and Chihiro were only held by the arm, while Enjouji was put into a full nelson. As for Kiriyama, she dodged her captor and jumped back a few steps.

“Care to explain this, Fujishima?” Inaba demanded, glaring at the girl in question as she held her by the arm.

“We know you people are... going to try something.”

“We were just whispering. We weren’t plotting anything.”

Why had they chosen now, of all times, to interfere? Based on Fujishima’s statement, it didn’t seem as though they’d overheard anything.

“I saw you all engage in a fistfight... though we don’t know what led up to it,” Sasaki explained.

Inaba stared back, confused. “What? What’s that supposed to — Oh.” Suddenly, her expression shifted to horror. “Your phenomenon lets you see what your friends are about to experience, like, ten or however many seconds from now, right? So if you make use of it, you can see the future... Now I get it!”

“Wh-What is it?” Taichi asked, startled.

“Remember when we were tracking Katori to the dojo, and we kept encountering other student council members in the halls? They were positioned there on purpose to increase the likelihood that we’d run into them.” Inaba glared around at the student council. “He’s completely using you people. Is that what you want? To be his little pawns? I know you’ve all got jobs to do, but... outside of all that responsibility, isn’t he your friend?”

Taichi felt Sasaki’s hand tighten around his arm.

“I understand if you’re nervous. I understand if you’re feeling unsure,” Katori continued without pause. “Which is why I’ve asked someone to speak to you today and help you make the right decision.”

Who on earth was he going to bring out for this?

Then a student walked onstage. She was tall and slender, with stylish bleached hair. And if she wasn’t quite so pallid and hunched over like a zombie, she’d probably look even more attractive.

It was Kiriyama’s best friend and Taichi’s fellow classmate, Kurihara Yukina.

“What? Wh... Wh-What’s happening? What is he making her do?” Kiriyama whispered, glancing around nervously and hopping up and down to get a better view of the stage.

“Arguably, this student has suffered the most since we arrived here. And all of us have the potential to end up just like her. So while there’s still time, I... Well, you can take it from here.”

Katori stepped back and gestured for Yukina to stand at the podium; she stepped up without hesitation. Then she scanned the crowd — and when her eyes landed on the CRC and the student council, she seemed to pause there for a moment.

“I was a victim of the body-swap phenomenon with some other girls from the track team,” she began, the microphone amplifying her weak, faint voice. “And I’m sure it’s been hard for everyone here, but... it was really, really hard for us.”

“...Wait, so... he’s using Yukina as a prop?” Kiriyama hissed, fuming quietly as she picked up on Katori’s intentions.

“First, Misaki... She was my closest friend in the group. But then she lost her memories of us, and then she vanished from this world,” Kurihara continued.

She explained how the sudden body-swaps meant none of the group members could have any privacy. How stressful it was. Then she talked about incidents in which other group members’ secrets had come to light, permanently altering their friendships... and that their only option was to hole themselves up in a room together.

The emotion in her voice added a poignant layer on top of everything else.

“I never realized how terrifying it would be to have a friend forget about you. And then, when I realized it was possibly my fault, it tore me apart inside. I was so full of regret... I kept wishing I’d done things differently.”

Her voice grew even more emotional, and it tugged at Taichi’s heartstrings.

“When Misaki disappeared, I was so confused at first. But now I know that it’s real. I mean, I know we probably won’t die, and we’ll probably go back to normal, but still... Disappearing is scary stuff. Really scary stuff. It just doesn’t feel right.”

Any human being would be instinctively frightened of it.

“But then the President found us a way out of here.”

Two of her friends vanished, then a third... leaving Kurihara all alone.

“I was afraid of disappearing. I didn’t want to hit my friends. So I chose not to do it. But everyone else was willing to make that sacrifice in order to get out.”

But she didn’t sound as though she resented them for it. If anything, she seemed to have accepted it.

“And now that I’m all alone, I don’t have to worry about the body-swap anymore.”

The more she spoke, the stronger her voice grew.

“Now no one’s left to encourage me to stick it out, so it’s like... why am I even here? There’s no point in putting myself through this. I’ve suffered enough.”

It was then that Taichi realized: Katori’s aim was to have Kurihara declare vocal support for the mass brawl.

“She’s his secret weapon?! She comes across so down-to-earth... It lends credence to her argument in a way neither Katori nor we could ever achieve... This isn’t looking good for us.”

Evidently Inaba saw Kurihara as a serious threat.

“Should we interrupt her?” Taichi asked reflexively.

“No, you idiot. If we oppose her, the crowd will tear us apart!”

It was obvious just how deeply the audience sympathized with Kurihara’s point of view.

“...Alright, I think we can let them go,” Sasaki told the rest of the student council. Evidently he’d decided the CRC didn’t need to be restrained any further. Instead, they continued to block the stairs leading onstage.

“M-Maybe Yui-senpai can stop her? They’re best friends, aren’t they?”

“...I can’t, Shino-chan. I don’t have the right to stop her.”

Kiriyama gazed up at the stage, her eyes full of tears, her hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer. She cared about her best friend far too much to stop her from pouring her heart out to the crowd.

“I thought to myself: If my friends are gone, then what’s the point of me keeping my memories of them? Who cares if the fistfights make you forget people? Not like any of them remember me. Those memories are worthless without someone else to share them with,” Kurihara declared, slamming her hands on the podium.

A real conversation required knowledge of the parties involved and the setting in which it took place. Otherwise, it was merely empty words... or worse, just noise. Only context could give it meaning.

And in the current context, Kurihara’s words carried an incredible amount of weight. Right now, she was quite possibly even more powerful than Katori or Inaba.

Once again, Taichi tried desperately to think of a plan. He looked at the crowd... then at Kurihara and Katori onstage... then at the student council right in front of them. He felt the presence of his friends standing beside him. And he thought of «Heartseed», possibly watching them in secret.

Please, let there be something... anything...

He searched and searched, but came up empty-handed.

“I don’t have any friendships left in this world. How can I, when all my friends are gone?”

The world was built on a foundation of inconsequential events, and those smaller pieces could be crushed under the weight of bigger ones. Take the CRC, for example: Despite all their best efforts, they had run out of cards to play. And as far as “bigger events” went, the phenomena were pretty damn big. These «Heartseeds» could destroy a lifetime of hard work in the blink of an eye. They could erase everything. Everything Taichi cared about. Everything everyone cared about.

Just then, Taichi felt Inaba’s hand touch his. At first he pulled back in surprise, but then he reached out again. Their fingers intertwined.

The worst-case scenario flashed through his mind, and he knew it was time to steel himself.

“But...”

But then—

“I still remember. I remember the friendships we shared.”

—a single ray of light—

“And as long as I still have the memories, those friendships are never truly gone.”

—cut through the darkness.

Kurihara’s words were not of despair and defeat, but of hope.

“Isn’t that right, Yui?”

Onstage, Kurihara’s expression was that of a loving older sister. Tears rolled down Kiriyama’s cheeks as the two gazed at each other from a distance. One look at them and Taichi knew: Their hearts were connected.

“I know this isn’t technically the real world, but I’m sure we’ll have to go back eventually. The question is, how much of this stuff will carry over? I mean, these people were emotionally devastated when they disappeared. Their memories were all screwed up. Will we really just... go back to normal once we get back? I’m really not sure.”

Her pace was gradually increasing.

“What if we’re still all screwed up when we get back? Because I can’t afford to lose the memories I have. I’m the only one who has them.”

This was the real Kurihara. Once she got started, there was no stopping her.

“I’ve been friends with everyone on the track team since the spring of my first year. See, the track team holds this big marathon event for new recruits, and they tell the first-years they have to be fast or they can’t join. So I ran like my life depended on it, and then I made it to the end, where there was this big barbecue, and the older students all congratulated me on my time... But now that I’m a second-year, I know better. It’s not about how fast you run; we don’t get a say in who joins the team. Honestly, I can’t believe I actually complained that I was ‘at a disadvantage’ just because I’m a sprint runner.”

Suddenly the topic had shifted to her memories of the track team.

“This one time, we went for a run outside... The weather was so bad that day, but we told ourselves we’d be fine and went for it anyway. Naturally, it started pouring down rain out of nowhere, and we all got soaked! And there was this other time... We were running down Main Street, and someone suggested we sneak away to the store and buy some ice cream. So we did, but then we got busted, and they got so mad at us! And two of the other girls got stomach aches! After that, we all started believing in karma.”

These were all memories no one else had. No one except the people who were present at the time. And if they all forgot, then those memories would be lost forever... but even then, it wouldn’t change the fact that those things really happened.

“But just so we’re clear, we’re not complete slackers. We still put a lot of work in. Whenever we’re at a track meet, we always clap each other on the back right before we go onto the field. It’s, uh, for good luck or something. Oh, and we make paper cranes for anyone who gets injured, and we throw ‘consolation parties’ whenever someone loses a competition. Plus, there’s even bigger parties for when someone wins! There’s just... so many memories that I’ve made with the team...”

She balled her hands into fists.

“But these memories aren’t special. In a way, they don’t matter at all. But when I think about having to lose them... it hurts. I don’t even want to imagine it. Without those first steps, you can’t build something bigger. How could anyone be willing to sacrifice that?”

Life was full of tiny, inconsequential, yet irreplaceable moments.

“Earlier I said these memories are worthless without someone else to share them with. And yeah, they are. But all I have to do is make everyone remember them! And I can’t do that unless I remember!”

The students in the crowd reacted with confusion at Kurihara’s sudden ferocity. Even Katori looked perplexed. Like he hadn’t seen this coming.

“If we can accept the risks involved, then we can follow Katori-kun’s method to end this. But if I can avoid those risks by staying here and standing my ground, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

Her defiant voice spoke directly to their hearts.

“My phenomenon may be gone, but now I’m all alone. And yes, I want to get out of here ASAP. But I’m going to stick it out. Why? Because I’m the only one who can. So I’ll do it for my friends who couldn’t do it themselves!”

Just then, she looked over in the direction of the CRC.

“As long as we can hold out, we’ll make it out of here in one piece. Right, CRC?”

Taichi — and most likely everyone else, too — nodded firmly.

“Alright then. I’m choosing to believe in you guys.”

“Hold it, Kurihara!” Katori hissed. He wasn’t speaking into a mic, but since Taichi and the others were positioned near the stage stairs, they could hear him just fine. “This isn’t what we discussed... but okay, fine.” He switched on his cordless mic. “How can you trust them? For all we know, staying here might pose an even greater risk than leaving. They lied to us! And they have connections to some unknown entity! Are you really going to trust them over me?”

“I’m sorry, Katori-kun. It’s not that I don’t trust you; I just want to believe in them.”

Reeling from her response, Katori lowered his mic.

“See, Kiriyama Yui is kinda my best friend. And I’m pretty close with the rest of her club, too... At least, I’d like to think so.” She shot a playful grin in the CRC’s direction. “And if I can’t even trust my friends right now, then who can I trust here, y’know?”

Her tone was so confident, it was almost provocative.

“If I have to endure a little suffering, then so be it! That’s just how much I care about the track team!” she declared. Then, without making any demands of the audience, she gave a curt “thank you” and stepped away from the podium.

At this point, the actual purpose of her speech was a mystery. Did she just want to make a personal statement? Either way, it meant a great deal to the CRC. At last, someone understood them. At last, they had changed someone’s mind.

Onstage, Kurihara pointed at the CRC and mouthed something: Now it’s your turn. Then her flawless act fell apart, and her expression crumpled. With one hand covering her face, she disappeared backstage.

“Yukina... She really went above and beyond for us. She pushed herself to the breaking point,” Kiriyama whispered, tears still streaming down her face.

Likewise, Taichi could feel a hot lump in his chest. It meant so much to him that there was even one person in this world who chose to believe in them.

“Well, uh... That... That was Kurihara’s thoughts on the matter,” Katori stammered.

Clearly Kurihara had completely derailed his plans. And now that she was gone, all that remained was mass confusion and hesitation. Even the student council looked panicky.

“I’m trying to gauge the situation... Is this our one chance to take action...?” Inaba murmured quietly.

“I don’t know about that. I think maybe we could afford to take a gamble,” Taichi found himself saying.

“Take a gamble? On what?”

“On this. What I’m saying is... we should try to have faith in everyone.”

He couldn’t see the future, but he was willing to believe in a happy ending.

Meanwhile, in the crowd, the negative spiral had come to a halt. Then one voice cut through the uncertainty:

“I don’t have any kind of ‘mission statement’ like Kurihara, but...”

It was a voice Taichi recognized all too well.

“There’s this good buddy of mine... His name’s Yaegashi Taichi. And I want to believe in him.”

It was Watase Shingo, Taichi’s close friend since their first year. Watase was standing near the back of the crowd, and everyone else turned to look at him as he spoke.

He was standing with his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and Taichi had known the guy for long enough that he could tell he was nervous.

“When it comes down to it, this is just one of those things you gotta decide on your own. You can’t cave to peer pressure or let someone else decide for you. You have to make the call.”

His head was tilted slightly upwards, helping to project his voice all across the gym. Even without a mic, he seemed perfectly audible.

“But yeah, it seems there’s two different viewpoints: the President’s and the CRC’s. Honestly, I have no clue who’s right. I wouldn’t even know how to decide that!” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders. “But if I’m looking at 50-50 odds, then I’d rather stick with my best bud. We can regret everything together — the more the merrier!”

“Implying we’re the ‘wrong choice’?” Taichi retorted under his breath. Not that he expected Watase to hear him, of course.

And yet, Watase suddenly looked in his direction. Their eyes met. The connection was there — Taichi could feel it in his heart.

Watase had little reason to place his faith in Taichi, and yet he was choosing to do it anyway.

To think a single bond could make his heart feel so full... If he wasn’t careful, he might actually be moved to tears.

“You say you want to support your friend,” Katori replied from the podium, “but the majority of everyone here supports my position — including your other friends, I’m sure. Don’t you want to value their opinions, too?”

“Well, I mean, no one except the CRC is really trying to take a stance one way or the other. Everyone else is just sort of playing it by ear, y’know? Me included.”

“I would say I’m taking a stance myself. The optimal stance that takes everyone’s needs into consideration.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. You’re an incredible president, you know that? I’m amazed you’re able to lead people at a time like this. It’s just... Hmmm...” Watase paused to think for a moment, then continued, “It feels like you don’t have any... you know... underlying convictions.”

“Excuse me? How the hell would you know? You think you can do a better job than me?! No, you can’t! No one can! Which is why I have to do it!” Katori raged.

“Whoa, jeez! Sorry, I’m not trying to bust your balls here, man!” Watase replied hastily. “I just... wanna believe in the CRC, that’s all. Oh, and I really don’t wanna have to punch my friends. That’s a big part of it, I’d say.”

An awkward tension hung in the air as the conversation between Watase and Katori came to an end. Everyone was on edge, waiting to see what would happen next.

Had the masses switched from Katori’s proposal to the CRC’s? No. The CRC hadn’t gained the confidence of the crowd. They were simply hoping for something, anything, to break them free of their prison.

Was it time for the CRC to take a stand? Would the President change up his tactics? Or—

“Me too!”

“Me too!”

Two girls called out at nearly the exact same time. They were standing somewhere within Watase’s vicinity, and if Taichi wasn’t mistaken, it had sounded an awful lot like...

Nakayama Mariko and Setouchi Kaoru exchanged a look.

“I’m pretty sure I beat you there, Kaoru-chan!”

“It’s not about speed, genius!”

They were bickering, but in a playful way, like they used to do back in Classroom 2-B.

“Iori! I’m gonna show you what love looks like!”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’ll show you what true love looks like!”

Both of them pointed directly at Nagase.

“...The hell are they talking about?” Inaba asked dubiously. This was a question Taichi had been wondering himself.

“Go for it, you two! I mean, uh... assuming your boyfriends are okay with it?!”

From the way Nagase spoke, apparently it was some kind of in-joke between them.

“Oops... I kinda maybe forgot to ask first... Uhh, Ishikawa-kun?”

“As my good friend once said, we should all believe in our friends. I see no reason to hesitate. Besides, I owe a debt to Yaegashi,” Ishikawa replied in his calm, deep voice. The last part was actually meant to be a joke, but the average person wouldn’t know this unless they’d known Ishikawa for a while.

“Same here! I want to be with Setouchi-san... not just for her sake, but for my own. So if she wants to stay here, then I do, too!” Shiroyama Shouto declared as he raced over to her. Then he turned back to look at his groupmates and pressed his hands together in apology. “Sorry, guys! Don’t take it personally!”

...Was it safe to get their hopes up?

“I choose the Cultural Research Club!”

“I’m going to stay behind and stand my ground!”

“Me too!”

“Me too!”

One by one, more voices joined the chorus.

“Basically, it’s like... I want to keep trying. I want to believe in myself, and my friends, and the person I love. Y’know?”

Nakayama’s sincerity penetrated Taichi’s heart. It served both as encouragement to keep fighting and as a warning not to let everyone down. The connections were chains, and the chains were connections.

Meanwhile, some other students had a very different take on the situation.

“Why are they all talking about love?”

“Because they’re dating each other.”

“Wait, what?! I had no idea!”

“Ugh, why are they shouting about it?”

“Are they trying to show off?”

Including Watase, there were now five people siding with Kurihara in support of the CRC. It wasn’t much, but still, it was five more than they had a minute ago. Together, they had changed five minds.

“...Alright then, we’ve heard some more opinions from the peanut gallery,” Katori announced. His voice was shaking, but he held himself together. “If you’ve made up your minds, then I won’t try to argue with you. However... you know you only get to decide for yourselves, right? You don’t get to dictate what other people do.”

His voice was lower than it had been initially, but it showed no signs of breaking.

“Now let me ask: Does anyone else agree with these people? Is there anyone else who wants to stay behind in this frightening world where anything could happen?”

His phrasing struck Taichi as unfair.

“Yeah, well, I can’t imagine a mass brawl is any safer!” Inaba shot back.

Katori didn’t respond; she didn’t continue. No one else said a word. Even Taichi could sense that it wasn’t the right time to do so; after all, they were currently in no position to influence anyone.

No, what they needed right now was a third party. Someone who wasn’t Katori or the CRC. Surely someone will make a stand, Taichi prayed silently. First Kurihara, then Watase, then Nakayama and the others, and then...

But no one rose to the task.

The whole room went silent, making it even harder for anyone new to speak out. Seconds ticked by. Watase and the others were frozen awkwardly in place. Now it was starting to feel as though the next person to speak would decide the outcome of the entire assembly. Was there anyone who could cut through the oppressive feeling in the air?

“...Right. Clearly you’re all tired of being here. I can tell you’ve chosen to go with my proposal.”

Katori was so panicked, he was rushing to conclusions.

“I don’t think that’s true at all. No one’s said a word in favor of your plan,” Inaba shouted up at the podium.

“They don’t need to. But if you insist, we can all make the decision right here and now. How’s this? All those in favor of my idea, stay here in the gym; all those who side with the CRC, leave. Now take some time to talk amongst yourselves before you decide.”

All at once, everyone turned to their groupmates and started discussing their thoughts. Even the student council.

“What should we do?” said one.

“I mean, we can’t not choose the President, now can we?” said another.

“Maybe this would be a good time to make our final stand,” Nagase suggested to the rest of the club.

“Yeah! Yukina vouched for us, and then Watase-kun and everyone else vouched for us. It’s time we vouched for ourselves!” Kiriyama declared.

But Inaba didn’t look convinced. “We could certainly try to convince everyone right here and now. I’m sure we could convert a handful of people. But no matter what we say, Katori will try to argue with us. Then the crowd will split into two factions — Team Katori versus Team CRC — and the former will start a mass brawl without us. Damn it... Do we really have to leave it up to chance? Is there anyone... anyone with the charisma to lead us all into salvation? Or are we completely fucked?”

“You wouldn’t happen to be referring to me, would you, Inaba-san?” said Fujishima Maiko, breaking her silence. “Because I can feel you looking at me.”

“Huh? Oh, no, of course not,” Inaba replied in a tone of feigned innocence.

“And I suppose you and Yaegashi-kun are holding hands just to show off, then?”

“Wha?!”

“Huh?!”

Instantly, Taichi and Inaba pulled their entwined hands apart.

“F-Force of habit,” Inaba stammered awkwardly.

“I know, I know. You’re the damsel in distress, and Yaegashi-kun is your knight in shining armor... You know, I bet if I pointed it out, the crowd would turn against you out of spite.”

“Don’t you dare,” Taichi shot back.

At the surface level, this was a pointless exchange, and yet it felt like Fujishima was finally back to her normal self. Anything could happen.

“Inaba-san, I think you were right about me,” Fujishima continued calmly.

All around her, the other student council associates were shocked to see her acting so casual at a time like this.

“I always hide behind my responsibilities. I thought I’d grown out of it, but I haven’t.” She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Whenever something appears to be beyond my control, I tell myself to stay in my own lane. And until now, I was fine with that. Tell me, Yaegashi-kun, do you remember the conversation we had on the pier, on the last day of the school trip?”

“...Suddenly I’m really interested to hear where this is going,” Inaba commented, her tone barbed.

“Did... did I forget to tell you about it, Inaba? W-Well, to be clear, I wasn’t trying to hide it! Nothing inappropriate happened!”

“I seem to remember we talked about stripping down...”

“Fujishima?! Could you please stop trying to give her the wrong idea?!”

She acted like she was dead serious, but he knew she was totally screwing with him on purpose.

“Long story short, Yaegashi-kun showed me that he was willing to set his ego aside. And likewise, it inspired me to stop clinging to my title and just be myself.”

Technically Taichi had barely contributed to that emotional process at all, but still.

“Ever since then, I’ve been trying to be my honest, unguarded self, but here, it’s simply impossible. I need some kind of armor or I’ll break. Contrary to how I may appear, I’m quite the fragile flower, you know.”

Honestly, she didn’t seem the least bit “fragile” in his eyes, but he knew she knew herself better than he did.

“I wanted to be superhuman. I wanted to be perfect. But whenever I fell short of the absurdly high standards I set for myself, I simply put my head in the sand and refused to acknowledge it. Instead, I found a role to fill and filled it. And like a coward, I told myself that that was enough.”

Taichi could relate to her feelings of inadequacy.

“But life’s not that easy. I’m ready to admit it: I can’t be Superman.”

Growing up, just about everyone aspired to be a superhero(ine) at some point. But Taichi didn’t want her to lose hope altogether. “Come on, don’t sell yourself short, Fujishima.”

“I’m not being pessimistic, honestly; I do have a new plan in mind. You know, Inaba-san, I consider you to be my most formidable rival... Oh, and Nagase-san?”

Nagase turned to look at her.

“Just so we’re clear, Nagase-san, I’m doing this for you,” Fujishima told her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m honored...?”

“And Kiriyama-san, when we get back to the real world, I hope you’ll let me feed you.”

“Feed me what?!”

“Sorry, lady, but that’s my girlfriend, and—”

“I have no interest in you, Aoki-kun.”

“Ouch! Rude! How have you already mastered the art of dunking on me?!”

“Moving on. Enjouji-san, Uwa-kun, I’m amazed you’re able to tolerate these people.”

“Th-They’re all so cool, it drains my MP constantly!”

“Meh, I’ve kinda gotten used to it.”

“Now then, it’s time for... Oh, I forgot about Yaegashi-kun.”

“Th-That’s a joke, right? You didn’t actually forget me, right?!” I thought we were friends, Fujishima!

“You know, friendship truly is magical, isn’t it?” She let out a deep sigh. “Yaegashi-kun, would you consider me a friend?”

Thus far, the two of them had built an odd relationship. And if the CRC lost this fight, and the Record Wipe erased all their memories pertaining to the phenomena, that relationship would surely be altered. Conversations like these would never happen between them again.

“I’d say you and I are fri— I mean, riv— I mean... It’s complicated.”

Fujishima stared back in surprise for a moment, then let out a giggle. “Complicated, indeed.”

She spun on her heel, turning her back to them — something she would surely never do if she saw them as enemies.

“Life doesn’t always work out the way I hope it will, but... it’s people like you that make all the ups and downs worthwhile. That goes for the student council and outreach committee, too, of course.”

“F-Fujishima-san...”

“Fujishima...”

The student council associates looked perplexed, but didn’t seem inclined to stop her.

“I snapped back to reality once I realized I couldn’t be Superman. But...” She donned her most charming smile. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be Batman.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Taichi blinked in confusion. Somehow she always managed to defy his every expectation.

“I’m only human. I’ll never actually have superpowers. But with the right tools and a little elbow grease, I can get pretty damn close.” She raised a hand in farewell, then turned and headed for the stage. “Give me three minutes and I’ll change the world.”

As far as one-liners went, it was pretty badass.

“...What is it, Fujishima? Why are you coming onstage?” Katori asked from the podium.

They could only make out bits and pieces of her response: “...me take the mic... don’t really need it, but... for the aesthetic...”

Apparently she was trying to steal the podium mic.

“What are you going to say?”

“Whatever I want. Is there a problem?”

The whole crowd fell silent, transfixed on the stage. This made it easier to hear their exchange.

“I’ll handle this, and you focus on the outreach committee. Is that not what we agreed on?”

“In that case, I won’t be needing this anymore.” Fujishima grabbed her student council armband and pulled it off. Now her biggest source of emotional support was gone.

“You’re abdicating your duties? Now, of all times?!”

“I don’t care about my duties. Right now, I want to speak from a personal perspective. Now get out of my way. Any student has the right to speak their mind, do they not?”

“Damn it...”

Her demands were unwavering, forcing Katori to relinquish the floor to her. As he stepped aside, she positioned herself behind the podium.

“Hello there, everyone. My name is Fujishima Maiko, and I represent... er, well... not much at the moment. But I’d like to give my own thoughts on the matter as a fellow second-year student at Yamaboshi High School.”

Her well-modulated voice carried easily across the gym, almost like she was born to make speeches.

“Regarding the President’s escape plan...”

Fujishima looked out across the crowd, calmly taking in the faces of those looking up at her. But Taichi knew she was probably terrified inside. No matter how invincible she looked, she had her own flaws... because Fujishima Maiko was far from perfect.

“...It just doesn’t feel right to me.”

Taichi had expected her to immediately go on the offensive with facts and logic, so this opener came across as surprisingly vague.

“Should we really be knocking each other around in order to force our way out of here?”

Even the students protecting the stage were completely focused on her.

“Now I’d like to ask you all a question: What is our purpose as students?”

This caught everyone by surprise, Taichi included.

“Put more simply, I believe we need to consider what it is that we truly value. What do you think, Mr. President?”

She pulled the mic off of its stand and held it up to Katori’s face, like a reporter.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Evidently her performance had put him completely at a loss.

“Tell me, what is our purpose as students?”

“Well... to get an education while learning how to be a functional member of society, I’d say.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“To study a handful of different subjects, make friends, and live your best life at school to ensure your future will be bright.”

“Hmm. Not bad, not bad. Now, what is the purpose of the student council? Fundamentally, I mean.”

“To support the students and... keep that system running smoothly.”

“Well then, that’s what we ought to be doing,” she replied with a smile, then turned back to the crowd. “Now, let’s start at bullet point one: believing in our friends. The CRC wants all of us to make it out of here safely. Is that not one of our goals as well?”

“I won’t deny—” Katori began, and Fujishima pointed the mic at him so he could be heard. “I won’t deny that. I just don’t trust them, that’s all. There’s no way staying here is the safe option when we’re trapped here with these phenomena. And I’d wager everyone here agrees.”

“Yes, I imagine staying here will be incredibly stressful. You, and everyone else, probably feel that it would be impossible to overcome your phenomena at this stage. Is that not what it comes down to, moreso than a lack of trust in the CRC?”

“Well, it’s... it’s both.”

“Then you should try to trust them.”

It was so simple, and yet it cut right to the heart of the matter.

“Let’s all try to have faith. Let’s have confidence in ourselves. It’s all going to end eventually, isn’t it? Then let’s endure it with a smile, right to the bitter end. That’s how a good student completes their extracurricular activities.”

That was certainly one way to put it, even if it was a bit of a stretch. But at the same time, it felt like a weight had been lifted. Thinking about the Isolation Zone as one big extracurricular activity made it seem a lot less scary.

“Let’s all make it to the end with a smile. Why wouldn’t we want to strive for that?” Fujishima asked the crowd. Then she glanced over her shoulder at Katori. “A true leader always strives to pursue their ideals, and that’s exactly what I want to do. So my plan is to stick it out.”

She was by no means condescending to them. She was simply speaking from her own independent point of view.

“How many of you have witnessed your fellow students punching each other in order to escape? I certainly have — I stood on the sidelines and let it happen. As such, I’m in no position to judge. But I will say that it was a terrifying experience. Friends, hurting each other as hard as they can? In a sane world, that would never happen, which leads me to believe that all those who resorted to this method were truly broken inside. Some even expressed joy at the thought of being freed... but in their hearts, all of them were crying. I don’t want anyone else here to have to experience that.”

She named all of the things everyone else tried not to see.

“I want us all to leave here hand in hand. No more fighting, no more tragedy, and definitely no more fistfights. I want everyone to keep their heads held high.”

It was an honest plea; one that everyone would make, deep in their hearts.

“...That being said, I understand that from your perspective, what I wish for is essentially a pipe dream. But to be clear, you’re free to abandon your dreams and give up any time you like. So tell me: Are you sure you’ve hit your limits? Before you go running away with your tail between your legs, don’t you think you ought to put up a real fight?”

There were no brakes on the Fujishima train.

“Did you truly give it everything you had? Did you try every last option? Or did you use your phenomenon as an excuse to sit on your hands and do nothing?”

The crowd was dead silent. How was this speech impacting them?

“These stressful circumstances have no impact on your ability to put up a fight. Just because something is difficult, it doesn’t mean you’ve earned the right to just shrug and give up.”

Out of context, her words were harsh and critical, but her tone was perfectly calm.

“This is a lesson I had to learn for myself today. Now then, I’m done lecturing. Next, I’d like to ask you all a question.”

She scanned each of their faces as she asked:

“What do you believe is the right thing to do at this very moment? What do you want to see happen, and how? Forget about other people’s opinions and just ask yourself. The little voice that answers? That’s the answer you want.”

Ultimately, she chose to let the people make the final call.

Her speech came to an end, and no one spoke out. Not the CRC, not even Katori. To do so would be disrespectful.

Their only option now was to wait. If the CRC wanted the masses to believe in them, then they’d have to start by believing in the masses. But what would they believe in? The strength of their character? Their hearts? These things were invisible to the naked eye. Intangible. So how, then, could they attempt to evaluate it?

Most likely, the answer was—

“Hey, um... I, uh...!”

A boy called out from the crowd. It was Kimura, a first-year who had presumed heavily on Taichi’s kindness during the Dream Vision phenomenon. He was bold to the point of recklessness, and frankly, it was almost admirable. Who’d have thought Kimura would be their secret weapon? Right now, he was the only one with the guts to speak out.

And all it took was one person to set the whole world in motion.

“You there! Go ahead,” Fujishima called, gesturing to him.

“I’m in the same class as Uwa and Enjouji-san, so...!” He glanced around at the people standing nearby and realized everyone was staring at him. For a moment he hesitated, but then he kept going. “I wanna believe in my classmates! They’re good people!”

“K-Kimura-kun...” Enjouji stared at him, eyes wide, with a hand clapped over her mouth like she was touched. It must’ve had an impact on Chihiro, too, because he stared at the floor like he didn’t want anyone to see his face.

“But most of all, I believe in the legend of Lord Yaegashi! Remember what they say? Trust in Yaegashi-san, and everything will be okay!”

“Yeahhhh, I don’t know about that one,” Taichi retorted under his breath. What on Earth was Kimura telling these people?

Just then, someone else spoke up.

“Y-Yeah, I... Ack!”

It was Taichi’s classmate Miyagami. During the school trip, the two of them had been assigned to the same group.

Taichi could scarcely believe it. Miyagami hated speaking in front of a large audience; even now, his voice had audibly cracked under the pressure. And if he was willing to endure it in order to get his message across, then Taichi wanted to give him his full attention.

Miyagami cleared his throat. “Basically, uh... I’ve been kinda overwhelmed. I mean, anyone would be! First we’re trapped here! Then these nobodies try to act like leaders! And then they tell us to take the option that sucks the most!”

By “nobodies,” he must have meant the CRC.

“And everyone else seemed against it, too!”

His voice wavered uncontrollably as he explained his perspective, piece by piece.

“See, I’ve always been the kind of guy who follows the trends. I tell myself, if everyone else is doing it, then it must be the right thing to do... Wait a minute! That has nothing to do with anything!”

If the circumstances were different, the crowd might have laughed. But here, no one did. His courage wasn’t a joke.

“So anyway, uh... Oh, right. I just want to say I’m sorry... mostly to Yaegashi, but to the whole CRC crew. I suspected the hell out of you guys. But now...”

His next words were what Taichi had been waiting for.

“I wanna believe in my friends! I’m done whining and complaining — I wanna actually try my best to survive here! And if it turns out my best doesn’t cut it, then I guess I can always throw in the towel. So yeah, I’m bucking the trend to do my own thing!”

“M-Me too!” Sone shouted, raising his hand in the air as he stood beside Miyagami. “Now, I know it looks like I’m just copying him, but I’m not! At least, I’m not trying to... Well, okay, maybe I am.”

He was so nervous, he broke down in a coughing fit.

“Anyway, I’m good friends with Yaegashi... right? We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Taichi started to reply of course, but Sone continued regardless.

“And I’m good friends with Miyagami, too, so yeah... that’s the kind of friendship I want to believe in.”

Sure, Sone must have been influenced by comments from the CRC, Kurihara, and Fujishima. But the opinion that affected him most of all was probably Miyagami’s. It was like a domino effect; each piece reached out and touched a different piece in turn.

One by one, their hearts connected.

“Besides... y’know, for an ‘extracurricular activity,’ this is pretty wild! It’s like something out of a manga! So if I just tell myself I’m the protagonist of some crazy manga, I feel like I can tough it out!”

The next people to speak were first-years who shared a class with Chihiro and Enjouji. The four of them were standing a short distance away.

“Us, too!” they all shouted in unison. “We choose the CRC!”

“Shimono... Tada...” Chihiro whispered.

“Tomomi-chan... Higashino-san...!” Enjouji exclaimed.

“I just... I really can’t imagine that Uwa and Enjouji-san are capable of plotting some evil scheme behind our backs.”

“Besides, it’s thanks to them that we all opened up to each other.”

“But they didn’t do it to get popular or anything. They went right back to sitting on the sidelines.”

“They only took action because they had to.”

Chihiro and Enjouji had left an impression on their classmates — and everything they’d built since then had paid off.

“As for the rest of the CRC... No offense, senpai, but we don’t really know you. And frankly, you’re kind of terrifying.”

“But if those two trust you, then we trust you, too.”

Their hearts had connected not just to Chihiro and Enjouji, but Taichi and the others, too.

From there, more and more voices spoke up. Had they come around on the CRC’s proposal? Had they sympathized with Kurihara? Had Fujishima convinced them? Or Kimura, or Miyagami, or Sone?

Technically, no. There was no singular reason. In actuality, all of it came together to contribute to this one singular moment.

All of it had significance. All of it had value. All of it had purpose.

“This is so dramatic... Screw it, I’m in!”

“Are you just saying that, or do you actually mean it?”

“I admit, it does feel like I’m just doing it for the attention. But does that really matter right now?!”

“You heard ’em! Let’s give it all we’ve got!”

“Yeah!”

“I’m scared, but... they’re right. Maybe it’s still too early to give up.”

“Yeah. I can keep going.”

“I’m not going to let you people show me up!”

“Let’s do this!”

“You know, once you start thinking of it as an extracurricular activity, it doesn’t seem that bad anymore...”

“Right? I really don’t want to hit my friends and lose my memories.”

“Yeah! I’m not giving up hope yet!”

“Let’s give it our best shot!”

A wave was spreading throughout the gym. They’d all met up for assemblies several times since they arrived in the Isolation Zone, but this was the first time everyone’s voices were clearly audible. They were all talking at once, and yet each of them stood out distinctly without blending into an unintelligible buzz. Was it because Taichi had changed his perspective? Or because they changed theirs?

The world had visibly changed. And to the CRC’s delight, a large majority of the crowd had chosen them.

“We’re counting on you, CRC!”

“Don’t let us down!”

“The CRC always finds a way to liven things up, don’t they? Like the Culture Festival.”

“Oh man, last year’s Culture Festival was legendary! They used a paparazzi photo to get two teachers to confess their love to each other!”

“And their first-year club presentation was a masterpiece! Remember? Nagase Iori’s High-Speed Cosplay Show!”

“I can’t wait to see what they do this year!”

...The conversation was rapidly getting off-topic.

Nearly two years had passed since the CRC was first formed, and a lot had happened since then.

The Isolation Zone was once dominated by anger and pain and powerlessness and despair, but now it was shifting. Humans were capable of finding hope in the most bleak of circumstances. They could take a monochrome world and dye it in their own colors.

Curiously, Taichi stole a glance at the rest of the CRC.

Eyes full of tears, Nagase was trembling like she was threatening to jump for joy any moment now; Inaba was periodically wiping her cheeks as she beamed from ear to ear; Kiriyama was sobbing openly; Aoki was cheering with both fists in the air; Enjouji was flailing around like she just couldn’t take it anymore; Chihiro was smiling sheepishly and scratching his head.

And as for Taichi himself...

“Huh?”

Something trickled down his cheek. Laughing, he hastily wiped it away. Where did that come from?

He was overjoyed, and relieved, and delighted, and touched, and validated — all sorts of emotions blended together. There were no words to describe it... but then again, he didn’t really want to describe it. All he wanted was to hold onto this feeling for the rest of his life.

Now, with his own two eyes, he had witnessed proof that all those tiny, insignificant moments truly did matter. And he wanted to live each moment to the fullest. Just like anyone else, probably. No matter what happened, he couldn’t let them wipe away everything he’d built.

“We don’t have to keep holding ourselves back! Let’s go!” one of the outreach committee members shouted. And just like that, the students who were blocking the stage stairs ran off to reunite with their friends.

“We’re going to meet up with Fujishima-san, right?”

“I’m coming, too!”

The three members of the outreach committee ran up the stairs, leaving a gaping hole in the wall that separated the CRC from the stage. Only the student council remained committed to their task.

“Does it really matter anymore? Go be with Katori,” Inaba told them.

After a moment of hesitation, they, too, turned and filed onstage. The CRC followed after them. Meanwhile, the outreach committee all flocked around Fujishima.

“Fujishima-san! We’re going to stay with you and fight till the bitter end!”

“All of you? Are you sure? I’ve cast away the outreach committee, so you have no obligation to side with me.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’ll always be the outreach committee leader! ...Actually, no, it’s not about that at all. We want to follow you, no matter where you go.”

“We’ve been by your side every step of the way, and we know just how incredible you are!”

How would Fujishima respond to this outpouring of support? Would she shrug it off? Respond with a joke? Or would she defy all expectations?

Biting her lip, she stared at the floor for a long moment, her brow furrowed. And when she finally looked up again, her eyes were red... but no tears had been spilled. Only Fujishima could reach her breaking point and somehow still hold herself together.

“I’m so glad I joined the committee and met all of you... Thank you...”

Sniffling, she gazed at them with affection in her eyes. Then she lifted her glasses, wiped her eyes dry, and turned to face Katori, who had dropped to the floor on the spot.

“Say, Mr. President? ...Katori-kun?”

He didn’t respond. All of a sudden, he looked so very haggard.

“Why...? It was what they wanted... They wanted a way out... so I did whatever it took to make that happen... and now they don’t need me anymore?!”

“Now, now, don’t get the wrong idea. Your ability to lead during this crisis is truly something to be commended, and the students do need you,” Fujishima reassured him.

“Without you, I’m sure this would’ve turned out a whole lot worse,” Inaba chimed in. “You did a great job bringing everyone together.”

Unfortunately, their praise seemed to have the opposite effect. Glaring sharply, he jumped to his feet.

“I’m in the right! I have the answer! But they still won’t listen to me! ...Forget it. If you don’t want to get out of here, then I’ll go by myself if I have to. You’re welcome.”

“Oh, don’t be stupid. As I recall, you’re not so irresponsible as to shirk your duties the second you slip up. Who would you start a fight with, anyway?”

“Sasaki! Miura! Hara! We’re all getting out of here!”

He pointed to the vice president and two secretaries currently watching the scene unfold from behind the CRC.

“Get over here! You know I’m right about this, right? Right?”

At this, the bespectacled vice president, Sasaki, took a step forward.

“Don’t do it!” Inaba called out hastily. “You gotta stop being his little sheep and—!”

“I’ve got this,” Sasaki interrupted, his voice uncharacteristically firm.

“Oh, Sasaki! That’s my VP. I knew you’d understand.”

“Let’s stop this, Katori. The students rejected our idea because it was wrong.”

“...What are you talking about?”

“Actually, it wasn’t ‘our’ idea, was it? It was your idea. The rest of us weren’t allowed to voice our opinions on the subject.”

His voice carried a quiet, yet palpable heat.

“Katori, you’re an incredible guy. You sensed how we were feeling and did your best to fight for us... all while we sat back and let you do all the heavy lifting.”

Meanwhile, Katori was no longer fuming. Instead, he stared directly at Sasaki.

“What I should’ve done was lend a hand and give input when you needed it. But instead, I told myself I was ‘just a subordinate’ and dumped everything on your shoulders.”

Sasaki’s voice was full of bitter regret, but he pressed on regardless.

“From now on, I’m going to make my opinions known. I don’t know what’s ahead of us, but... for right now, I think we should stay and fight it out. Not because we’re the student council, but because you’re my friend, and I care about you.”

“...Why the hell would you want to stay?”

“Do you really think the correct choice is to punch people and lose our memories, all so we can take a shortcut out of here? Or do you think perhaps we should listen to the people who seem to have prior experience with this stuff?”

“I...”

“I know you must’ve realized it at some point. But you went out of your way to make things completely cut and dried in order to give the people hope, right? You wanted to seem like you had it all under control so chaos wouldn’t break out. That’s the kind of thing you like to worry about.”

Katori nodded weakly. “You might be right... You know, I think that’s the first time since we got here that I actually agreed with someone else.” At last, he finally seemed to relax for a change. “I was constantly on guard 24/7... Otherwise I probably would’ve passed out, you know? Seeing as we’re trapped here with all these phenomena...”

For the first time, this competent, capable guy actually seemed like a teenager. This was probably the “real” him, whereas the constant demands of his environment and title had forced him to pretend to be someone else.

“...I agree with Sasaki’s opinion. Miura? Hara? What about you?”

“I’d like to stay here with you, President Katori!”

“Let’s make the student council a united front against the crisis!”

“Alright then, it’s settled. I need to reorganize my thoughts a bit... Is everyone cool with that?”

“Of course,” said Fujishima.

“Why would anyone say no?” said Inaba.

At last, the backbone of the student body had come together as one.

“...But then again, if I change my tune this late in the game, you’ll all laugh at me...”

“Eh, I don’t know about that. Right, Fujishima?” Inaba asked, shooting her a meaningful look.

“Right,” Fujishima nodded.

“If anything, just wait until they remember that the CRC’s supposedly ‘in cahoots with the mastermind’ or whatever. Then all hell will break loose,” Inaba continued wryly.

“I’ll go talk to them.” And with that, Fujishima spun on her heel and grabbed the podium mic. Not a single second wasted.

“Alright, everyone. Is it safe to say that you’re all willing to keep fighting?”

“YEAH!” the crowd shouted back in chorus.

“Thank you, everyone. Whether you’re fully committed or you’re honestly just going along with the rest of your group, I appreciate you. So, is everyone in agreement here? From now on, we’ll all work together to get each other through this.”

Like a true commander of the people, Fujishima gesticulated emphatically with her hands as she spoke.

“That said, I’m sure there will be times when things get hard, or you feel you disagree with the way things are. I won’t tell you not to feel that way. But if possible, I hope you’ll reach out to the people around you and fight alongside them. I promise, I’ll be right there with you. And I’d like to work hand in hand with our President, too.”

She gestured to Katori, and all eyes turned to him.

“While we may have butted heads in the past... Well, perhaps the CRC should speak for themselves. Anyone?”

“Iori, you’re the club president — you go. You know what to say, right?”

“What? I’m not you, Inaban! If I go up there, they’ll just be confused! Ugh, being president always comes back to bite me at the worst possible times... I’m so nervous!” Nagase complained playfully.

Then she walked up to the podium and accepted the mic from Fujishima.

“Hi, uh, I’m Nagase, president of the CRC. For a while now we’ve been at odds with President Katori-kun, but deep down, I think we both wanted the same thing: to keep everyone safe.”

She glanced at Katori as she spoke.

“As long as we have each other, we can get through this. We’re all on the same team, so let’s put our heads together and make it happen!”

Then she walked over to Katori and held out her hand. For a moment, he stared down at it in silence.

“Yeah... We’re not enemies. We’re friends,” he muttered.

The words struck a chord deep within Taichi’s heart. All this time, they’d struggled to see eye to eye and sometimes even got hostile with each other, but they weren’t really enemies. They were only human.

Katori let out a long breath. Judging from the relief on his face, a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. At last, he was no longer haunted by the demonic swirl of emotions generated by the crowd.

In large groups, human emotions could be unspeakably powerful... and sometimes they could be frighteningly dark. But when united in a single direction, those feelings had the power to change the world.

“I’d be happy to fight by your side,” Katori continued as he grasped Nagase’s hand. Cheers rose from the crowd. “Now it’s time for me to take care of business.”

He strode past her to the podium.

“Look, uh... I said some stuff about the CRC being shady, and that it was their fault we got trapped here, and that they were pulling the strings from behind the scenes.”

Wow, he’s really going there? Taichi thought. How’s he planning to handle it?

“But I was wrong,” Katori continued casually. “The members of the CRC are Yamaboshi students, just like you and I. Why should we believe the word of some unknown entity over our own fellow students? It’s absurd. I mean, yes, whoever it was did say that the reason we’re here ‘lies with them,’ but that doesn’t mean they put us here on purpose, does it?”

He paused to contemplate his own question for a moment, then turned to the CRC and bowed deeply in apology.

“I leapt to the most dickish conclusion, and for that, I’m sorry!”

Nagase shook her head. “You don’t have to—”

“Don’t feel bad.”

“Uh, Fujishima? He wasn’t talking to you!” Taichi retorted reflexively.

But Fujishima ignored him and walked up to the podium. Then she leaned into the mic and declared:

“Now then, no more infighting! There are no enemies among us! From now on, we work together as one group! I’m going to fight this thing, and I want all of you to fight with me!”

The crowd went wild with applause. Their hearts were as one... and Fujishima Maiko had returned to her former glory.

■□■□■

The mood in the gym was completely unlike that of assemblies past. The eighty-odd remaining students in the Isolation Zone had unified themselves behind a single goal. And once that goal was established, all the minor stuff started to fall by the wayside.

The audience had split off into several large groups — not just their phenomenon buddies, but their other friends, too.

“Maybe we should have regular patrols.”

“But some people wouldn’t be able to patrol due to their phenomena.”

“Okay, well, excluding them...”

“I wish we knew the exact trigger for the disappearances...”

“Yeah, but we can’t risk testing it.”

“Well, from what I saw...”

Meanwhile, Inaba and Fujishima marched around, shouting words of encouragement:

“Your phenomenon only has as much power as you give it! Make it your bitch!”

“Remember, this is just an extracurricular activity! Think of it as a fun little experiment!”

Evidently their objective was to teach these people how to combat the phenomena.

“I think you’re asking a little too much,” Katori shot back at them. Then he called to the crowd, “If anyone needs to talk, you know where to find me!”

Apparently he was attempting to balance out their hardline approach by adopting a more moderate stance. Thinking about it, he was perhaps better suited to this sort of position.

“Wow... This sure is incredible... Right, Taichi-senpai?” Enjouji gushed. She appeared to be incredibly moved by this turn of events.

“I’ll say. When I look at them, it really fills me with hope.”

Rrrrrip.

“Right?! It feels like we can do anything we... Wh-What’s the matter, Taichi-senpai?” she asked dubiously after she noticed him looking around in confusion.

“Did you hear that weird sound just now?”

“I don’t think so... All I can hear is your deep, buttery voice...”

“Uhh... Should I be concerned...?”

He was so sure he’d heard something. Had he simply imagined it?

“Like, maybe now would be a good time for a quick break,” Kiriyama suggested.

And so, since things were mostly wrapped up here, the seven members of the CRC gathered together.

“Yeah, maybe we should eat something. It might help boost morale,” Inaba mused.

“Alrighty then, how’s about we throw ourselves a little party?! Y’know, like a pep rally! Whaddya think, Shino-chan?”

“Ooh, a party? Coming from you, Aoki-senpai, it’s actually a pretty good idea! I’ve never been to a party with this many people before... I bet it’d be a lot of fun!”

“I’m amazed you people want to party at a time like this,” Chihiro retorted under his breath.

“Times like these, people need to let off some steam more than ever,” Taichi explained to him.

“And when you have a party at night, it feels kinda sophisticated, y’know? Like we’re gonna drink until the break of dawn!”

“Nagase, I’m pretty sure you’re the only—”

RRRRRIP!

Taichi froze. Likewise, Enjouji shrank down and put her hands over her ears. “Wh-What was that?! It sounded like someone tore apart ten shirts with their bare hands!”

This time, the whole gym had heard it loud and clear. Everyone was scanning the room for the source of the strange ripping sound.

Then Taichi looked up at the ceiling—and noticed that a chunk of it was missing, as though it had been torn clean off.

“Uh... Isn’t that, like, really bad?! Is it gonna collapse?!” Kiriyama shrieked, pointing up at the hole.

But contrary to her concerns, the ceiling showed no signs of caving in. Instead, the gap continued to widen, bit by bit. And as it did, they could see a tear in the dark sky up above. And beyond that tear... was a bright white light.

“Whoa... Is that the real world...?” Nagase murmured. “Wait, what the?” She held out her palm for a moment, then rubbed her fingers together.

Taichi followed suit... and found that his hand was now covered in a light dusting of white sand that was presently raining down from the sky. Then he looked back at the ceiling to find that the gym was starting to crumble and the tear in the sky was growing bigger.

Almost like the world was coming to an end.

“Oh my god, what’s happening?!”

“This can’t be real... What the hell?!”

People were screaming and panicking. Then someone shouted:

“Hey, my phone’s got service again!”

Cell service? Inside the Isolation Zone?

Aoki immediately whipped out his phone. “Huh? Holy crap! I do, too! Maybe we can get through to the real world!”

One of the girls was holding her phone to her ear. “Hello? Oh, hi, Mom!” Then she put her hand over the receiver and shouted, “Guys, she picked up!”

“Look at the date! We’ve gone back in time!” someone else shouted.

Taichi looked at his phone, and sure enough, the date had been reset to three days prior — the day they first arrived in the Isolation Zone.

Amid the excitement and panic, someone asked, “Is it over?!”

“Is this it? Is this the end?”

“That means no more phenomena, right?!”

“And since the date’s been reset, maybe everything will go back to normal?!”

“We’re going home! I just know it!”

All around the gym, people were cheering.

“Look!”

The tear in the sky had grown even wider, revealing a familiar city nightscape. If Taichi had to guess, it was probably the street right outside Yamaboshi.

They could hear cars driving by. The sounds of human life.

There was no doubt about it. The real world was right there before them.

The crowd’s tentative hope exploded into unmitigated jubilation.

“WE DID IT!”

“It’s the real world! We made it back!”

“Did the phenomena stop?”

“Mine hasn’t happened for a while now!”

The CRC stood there, surrounded by joy on all sides. Was this truly the end?

Then Katori walked over to them. “Looks like you people were right. We all banded together, and now it’s over, just like that.”

That was... certainly how it appeared, at least.

“Can we safely assume we’ve united the world...?” Inaba murmured, still cautious.

“Yeah, I think it’s a little too early to celebrate just yet,” Taichi replied. “Even if we did our part, it doesn’t guarantee that you-know-who will.”

“I’m willing to accept that it’s over,” she continued, “but without any proof—”

Inaba cut herself off with a gasp and took off running in the direction of the entrance.

“What is it?!” Taichi shouted as he and the others hastily gave chase.

They followed her out of the gym to the nearby staircase... and that was where they found «Heartseed», piloting the body of Gotou Ryuuzen. Even now, at the climax, it stood there lifelessly, like always.

The CRC were the only people out in the hallway. Everyone else was still inside the gym, rejoicing over their return to the real world, and they showed no signs of leaving.

“The Isolation Zone is over now, right? So we’ll all go back to normal? Right?” Nagase asked, forcing herself to stay calm in the face of deep desperation.

“...Yes... I suppose you would be correct...”

“So we succeeded in uniting everyone?” Inaba asked without missing a beat. It was still too early to relax.

“Yes... That’s correct...”

“So you managed to get everything set up for us? And we’ll be able to keep everyone’s memories intact?”

Just one last step.

“Yes... I assure you... they will not have their friendships erased...”

“They’ll go back to the real world and forget about all the supernatural shenanigans?” Aoki asked, making doubly sure.

“Well... I imagine they’ll forget everything that happened here in this Isolation Zone...”

“What about the people who got hit with an emergency shutdown?! They’ll go back to normal, right?!” Kiriyama demanded.

“...All the events of this Isolation Zone will be undone... Therefore, I’m inclined to say they will indeed ‘go back to normal’...”

It was the best-case scenario. What more could they possibly ask for?

“We did it... We did it...?” Enjouji’s voice was devoid of any confidence, but her tentative relief was palpable.

They had gone through a lot and nearly thrown in the towel, but with the power of friendship, they had finally made it.

“So «Heartseed» will get to keep its memories, and we’ll get to keep ours?” Chihiro muttered to himself.

“No... We won’t keep ours.”

What?

That didn’t sound right. But surely Taichi must have simply misheard.

“The events pertaining to all of your phenomena... from the body-swap onward... will be undone...”

Undone?

“And everything that happened in between will be erased as well...”

“Wait just a minute, asshole! Don’t fucking screw with me right now!” Inaba roared, and Taichi was of a similar mind. “That’s not what you told us!”

“It isn’t...? Oh... It isn’t, is it...” As it murmured, a faint smile crept up on its face.

“Don’t you condescend to me! I thought you said you didn’t want to lose your memories!” Inaba grabbed «Heartseed» by the collar. “Now tell us you were joking!”

But «Heartseed» looked utterly unruffled. If anything, it seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of Inaba.

“I could do that... but it wouldn’t be prudent of me to lie to you...”

“What’s... happening...? What’s...?” Enjouji whispered in a tiny, feeble voice.

“You’re not making any sense!” Nagase raged.

And then a third party joined the fray.

“Oh... you spoiled the surprise?”

It was «The Second», piloting the body of Kurihara Yukina. The timing gave Taichi pause, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it, because more importantly—

“Isn’t there anything you can do to protect our memories, «Second»?!”

He placed his hopes not in «Heartseed», but in the double agent.

“I don’t think so... Sorry?”

Just like that, the last ray of hope was snuffed out.

“So when you said we could prevent any memory loss... you were lying...?” Kiriyama asked, defeated.

“Rest assured, nothing of value will be erased as a result of the Isolation Zone... but the prior phenomena... are a different story...”

“So you were screwin’ with us the whole freakin’ time. Go to hell, man,” Aoki growled.

“Come now... Let’s all relax... No one’s going to die, you know... Even we can’t erase living beings...”

At this, Taichi finally lost his composure along with the rest of them. “That’s not the issue here! Do you think we’re supposed to be okay with this?!”

“Well, you know... I do not require you to be okay... You may resent me as much as you like... Remember me as your enemy...”

What the CRC should have been fighting was «Heartseed» all along. They were delusional to ever think they could reach an understanding with it.

After all, they were human, and it wasn’t. It had no heart to connect with.

“Fine... At this point, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll entertain you for my whole life if I have to. Just don’t erase what we have... or else I’ll never forgive you. Please.”

Inaba was clearly desperate. First she tried bargaining, then threatening, then flat-out pleading.

“...More importantly... shouldn’t you spend your last moments with each other? This is the end, you know...”

In a blink, their surroundings had been overwritten with blinding white light, even the floor. Something was still there for them to stand on, but to the naked eye, it looked as though they were floating in midair.

“...Now then...”

But before «Heartseed» could finish its sentence, it had already vanished. Taichi turned to look for «The Second», but that one was gone, too. Everything was being... erased. But there was no pain involved. Instead, everything was steadily growing fuzzy, themselves included.

Taichi had hoped «Heartseed» was lying to them... and yet he knew there was no point in lying at this stage.

Everyone was growing distant, and if they split apart, he had the distinct feeling that things would never go back to the way they were ever again. But they were out of time now... so instead, Taichi used the last of his energy to pour his heart out.

He refused to accept that this was the end... but he didn’t want to have any regrets, either.

“Chihiro! Enjouji! I’m glad you two joined the club! Aoki and Kiriyama: Thank you for being my friends! Nagase, I don’t regret falling for you! And Inaba, I love you—”

The white light engulfed them... as they returned to a world where none of it ever happened.