Chapter 5: World’s Greatest Detective

Chapter 5: World’s Greatest Detective

The next day, all seven members of the Cultural Research Club gathered in the clubroom.

Taichi and Kiriyama believed it was right to use their power, as long as they were doing something good; Inaba and Aoki believed it was wrong to use their power, no matter the circumstance. In the aftermath following their disagreement, no one had turned up at the clubroom after school that day—so, because each “faction” was segregated from each other by class, they effectively hadn’t seen each other since lunchtime yesterday. It was only thanks to Nagase, their faithful mediator, that they were convinced to hang out and continue club activities with each other.

And so the CRC was split into two, with Nagase acting as a neutral third party—probably intentionally.

“...Is it just me, or is it really tense in here?” asked Uwa Chihiro.

“Yeah... Not to mention, they canceled club activities out of nowhere yesterday...” Enjouji Shino mused.

“Oh, right. We kinda forgot to explain things to the little first-years, didn’t we?”

As Nagase got the younger members caught up on the particulars, the other four awkwardly turned back to their independent activities. Then, once Nagase was done—

“So, first-years, whose side are you on?” Inaba asked loudly.

Taichi’s heart nearly stopped. We’re going to have this conversation AGAIN?

Granted, Inaba was facing Chihiro and Enjouji, but he could still feel the hostility she was radiating in his (and Kiriyama’s) direction.

“Wh... What do you mean, whose side...?” Enjouji asked timidly, glancing in every direction but Inaba’s.

In contrast with her trepidation, Chihiro was perfectly composed. “Is there any particular reason we have to choose?”

“Nope. We may have filled you in on the details, but we’re not going to drag you into this. I’m just interested in your honest opinion, that’s all.”

Meanwhile, Kiriyama was trying her best (but still failing) to act nonchalant.

“Alright then...” Chihiro took a deep breath and exhaled. “In that case, I would say the correct choice is to do nothing. ‘Don’t start none, won’t be none,’ as the saying goes. Now, that’s not to say I believe in ‘peace at any price’ or anything... but I’ve already seen how these things can spiral out of control.” He grimaced.

At this, Inaba smirked. “Yeah, you would know, alright.”

“Wh... Come on, Chihiro-kun! We’re helping people,” Kiriyama muttered faintly.

“Shut it, Yui. He’s allowed to have his own opinion,” Inaba cut in sharply.

“Now, now, Inaban. No picking fights,” Nagase scolded—not too harshly, not too softly—as she slid between them to act as a buffer.

“Nice timing,” Inaba snarked, shaking her head with a smile.

“Keheheh! Not to brag, but I’m pretty much a pro at this.”

Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that Inaba wasn’t going to drop the subject. “What about you, Shino?”

“Oh, right! Um... I... I...” As everyone turned their attention on her, Shino shrank back in her seat.

“Relax. You don’t gotta tell us,” Aoki began.

But then, Enjouji drew herself up to her fullest height and declared, “I... I think... if you can make something good happen... then you should! Or... at least, it would be nice if you did... or... something...” Her words faltered as Inaba fixed her with a fierce glare.

“So you think it’s okay to use the power as long as you’re doing something good, yeah?” Taichi asked, helping her along.

“R-Right! It’s hard to explain eloquently, but... if someone was drowning, and you didn’t try to save them, I think that’s messed up. No matter what power you have, even if it’s supernatural, you should still use it to help that person!”

“But they’re not drowning. They’re just wishing to themselves,” Inaba corrected her.

“No, they’re not literally drowning , but it’s the same idea,” Taichi argued.

But Inaba ignored him. “Think about it, Shino. Are we all supposed to sit around and wait for someone else to come along and make our dreams come true? No! You’ve gotta make them happen by yourself! Right?”

“R-Right...”

“Lots of people get help from their friends to make their dreams come true,” Kiriyama cut in.

“And that’s fine, if the person with the dream is actively asking for help. But you’re getting involved without their consent, and that’s different.”

“Wh... but... I mean... that’s... uhhh...” Enjouji flailed.

“What’s your problem, Inaba? Are you trying to, like, out-logic Shino-chan until she tells you you’re right?” Kiriyama snapped.

“I’m just pointing out the loopholes in your flimsy argument. What’s wrong with that?”

Taichi wasn’t enjoying this underhanded tactic.

“Think about it. You people can’t keep going unless you have someone around to validate your actions, right?”

“S-Sure we can! I can validate myself just fine! Because I’m right!”

“Same here,” Taichi agreed. After all, he’d made this choice of his own free will. “I think you’re the one who needs validation here, not us.”

“Wh... How dare you...?!” Inaba’s glare faltered, and for a moment, Taichi hesitated.

“Guys! No more bickering! Constructive criticism only! How many times are you gonna make me mediate this? I might as well get a full-time job as a referee at this point!” Nagase sighed.

Out of respect for her, Taichi decided to drop it... but something felt off. Then it hit him.

Normally, in times like these, Aoki was always the one to jump in with a joke to lighten the mood... but today he was silent.

After yesterday, the club just wasn’t the same.

□■□■□

Following their declaration to Inaba and the others, Taichi and Kiriyama began to proactively take action on more Visions than ever before—solving people’s problems, helping them achieve their goals, and more—just so long as they were within the realm of plausibility, of course.

But as a result—or perhaps simply because they actively wished to have as many Visions as possible—the number of Visions they had per day skyrocketed from a handful to over a dozen. Not including the hours they spent asleep, and were thus unable to have Visions at all, it climbed to as much as one per hour. (Granted, this number had been on the rise ever since the start of the phenomenon, but when they asked Nagase, she said she was only seeing about seven or eight per day.)

That said, the extra Visions gave them more things to add to the to-do list, so in a sense, perhaps it was a good thing. Of course, far-fetched ambitions were still out of the question, but they found ways to make the smaller ones happen. A lot of them only required a small amount of help from them, or else a bit more effort on the Dreamer’s part. Thus, they only needed to give slight encouragement (or pull tiny strings) to see success, and that was that.

But out of all those small ambitions, the job they found themselves stuck with most frequently was that of playing Cupid. They’d seen all kinds of Dreams, from ambitions to take part in the Olympics to idle wishing that math class would hurry up and end already—but more often than not, their Visions involved romance.

Granted, as teenagers, they were all bound to have a crush on someone. And at school, they were bound to encounter said crush at least once or twice a day... at which point they were bound to start thinking about them. This meant that nearly the entire student body was thinking about their crushes at least once a day—and this resulted in Visions for Taichi and everyone else.

But for Taichi and Kiriyama specifically, more Visions meant more work to be done. Whenever they discovered a mutual crush, they would encourage both parties to take action. (And figuring out which crushes were mutual was by no means hard; once they discovered someone’s secret feelings, they inevitably started paying more attention to the recipient of said feelings, which led them to figure out if it was reciprocated pretty quickly.)

Unfortunately, to an outside observer, this started to look like—

“Hey, doesn’t it kinda seem like anyone who talks to Yaegashi-kun and Yui-chan about their crush has, like, a 100% success rate when they confess?! I mean, they’re all dating now! Isn’t that crazy?! They’re the new Love Gurus,” according to one Nakayama Mariko.

And once that rumor spread, it took less than a week before people started approaching Taichi and Kiriyama directly—mostly Taichi, for whatever reason.

To give a recent example, at one point a girl from another class came to him and said, “Yaegashi-kun, I really like Taira. He’s in your class, right? Do I have a chance with him?”

“Give me some time and I’ll find out,” he told her.

From there, he focused his energy hoping that he’d have a Vision about who Taira had a crush on. Sure enough, just two days later—

[There’s a guy. It’s Taira. He’s walking home from school. Next to him is a girl. It’s the girl Taichi spoke to. They walk down the street, hand in hand.]

With that confirmation, Taichi told the girl, “Yeah, I think you have a shot.”

Then, another two days later—

“Thank you so much, Yaegashi-kun! I asked him out, and he said yes! Apparently he had feelings for me, too!”

“Congratulations. That’s great news.”

“So how did you know I had a shot with him, anyways?”

“Oh, uh, well... I heard some stuff from a friend of mine, that’s all.”

“Hmmm... You sound almost like a detective... Well, anyway, thanks again! Without your help, I would’ve been too scared to risk messing up our friendship. You gave me the courage I needed!”

And so another freshly minted couple was born.

September turned to October. After school, one of Taichi’s male classmates approached him to ask for advice.

“And... you’re sure she’s into me?”

“Yeah. Just be brave and put yourself out there,” Taichi reassured him.

“...Okay. Thanks a ton, Yaegashi! Hearing you say that makes me feel like I might actually have a chance. You really are an Apostle of Love, you know that?”

“Break a leg out there.” And with that, Taichi watched him go. He’d only given the green light based on (Vision-based) intel from Kiriyama that the girl in question liked him back.

He got up from his desk—

“Seems like you’re on a roll, Yaegashi-kun.”

The voice was so crisp, it seemed to chill the air itself. Then the last group of three left the classroom, and Taichi was left standing alone with one other person: Fujishima Maiko.

She drew his attention like a magnet, and as he gazed at her, the rest of the world seemed to fade away in comparison... Why do I feel so uneasy all of a sudden?

“You’ve been helping people with a lot of problems—romantic problems especially. It’s quite impressive.”

“Wait... You were there?”

“...Are you implying I’m some kind of wallflower?”

“Well, you don’t really stand out as much these days...”

“Nnngh... I’m trying my best, okay?!” She pushed her glasses up to rub her damp eyes.

“Wh... C’mon, don’t cry! I’m just messing with you. Trust me, there’s no one else quite like you.” If anything, I thought you’d clap back with a spicy retort or something—

[There’s a girl. It’s Fujishima. She stands with her hand on her hips, laughing triumphantly. Before her, someone’s lying on the floor—prostrating themselves. It’s Yaegashi Taichi. He says, “You beat me fair and square, oh great and mighty Fujishima! You were the real Apostle of Love all along!” to which Fujishima replies, “But of course! That title belongs to me and me alone!” She cackles madly.]

...Not sure what to say to that one, but, uh... I’m glad to see you’ve bounced back from your depression.

“Oh, and don’t worry about your Apostle title. I’m sure they’ll all turn back to you eventually.”

“Wha...?! You’re pretty sharp. I can’t believe you figured out what bothered me so much about that conversation just now...”

Why had he felt so intimidated earlier? Fujishima had long since been reduced to little more than comic relief. Evidently, he’d gotten worried over nothing—

“...Psych. Is that the sort of sniveling tripe you were expecting me to say, you poor fool?”

In a blink, her tone had changed completely; now she glared at him from behind her lenses. He froze, speechless—but she wasn’t about to wait for him to catch up.

“Tell me, Yaegashi-kun. Can you read minds?” Her eyes bored into his. This time, she wasn’t joking.

“Wh... Where did that come from...?”

“This must be a recent development. Did you acquire some sort of special power?”

Fujishima Maiko had him pegged.

Sirens blared as «Heartseed»’s warning replayed in his mind:

—Oh, and... try not to let anyone else find out about your power... I’d hate for this to get complicated.

What had it meant by “complicated”? And what exactly was “this” referring to? What would it be forced to do? Would Fujishima be affected? Would Taichi himself be punished for blowing their cover?

Part of him was convinced it would all work out in the end, but with «Heartseed», there were no guarantees. After all, this was supposed to be the “last” time... which meant it wouldn’t be coming back. And once it was done with them, it had no further incentive to ensure their safety.

Their lives were in the palm of «Heartseed»’s hand.

“Yaegashi-kun? Are you listening?”

He was walking on thin ice—but that was okay. He didn’t mind if he fell through the cracks as long as Fujishima was spared.

“...Yeah, I’m listening. Sorry, I was just... blown away by the sheer insanity of what you just said.”

“Don’t pretend it’s not the truth.”

“It’s not, though.”

“Hmmm... It seems you’ll be a tough nut to crack,” she mused, folding her arms in contemplation. Clearly, she didn’t have definitive proof... yet.

“Why is that the conclusion you’ve jumped to, anyway?”

“You’re just too sharp, Yaegashi-kun. Normally you’re completely oblivious! But most of all, it’s obvious from the way you’re advising these people.”

“What’s wrong with the way I’m advising people?”

He was under the impression he and Kiriyama had been rather conservative in their actions thus far, but... had he made some sort of fatal mistake?

“The amount of advice you’re giving is downright excessive, for one thing, but more than that... it’s the fact that you’re the one giving it in the first place.”

“What’s wrong with me giving advice?”

“You’re just not the sort of person who can guide people. I know that for a fact.”

“What?”

“You couldn’t give someone good advice if you tried. Not in a million years.”

“Hold on a minute. ‘Not in a million years’? Come on!” It felt like she was calling him stupid, and it irked him.

“Oh, sorry. Maybe that came across the wrong way. I’ll rephrase: you lack agency . You’re like the protagonist in a retro RPG.”

Protagonist . Inaba had described him that way recently, too. Was this more than mere coincidence?

“Tremendous power dwells within you. You have the courage to make important decisions. With these traits, you can save people... like a superhero.”

“Gosh, is it my birthday or what?” Taichi snarked.

“I’m not just buttering you up; I’m serious about this. They’re great traits to have.”

“Then—”

“You’re just too passive.”

...Passive?

“You don’t take action of your own accord. You just react to the existing problems you see in front of you,” she explained matter-of-factly, and Taichi tried to ignore the fact that she was steadily driving him into a corner. “Basically, you can handle whatever the plot throws at you, but you can’t make things happen of your own accord. You’re like a silent protagonist; you can only choose from the dialogue options presented to you. Pretty good analogy, am I right?”

He refused to accept it, but at the same time he couldn’t decide how best to deny it, so instead he went with an inoffensive retort: “...Feeling proud of yourself, are you?”

“Without any sort of player agency, Yaegashi-kun, you can never hope to protect someone from imminent danger, nor can you intuit their feelings.”

“Excuse me? As if you’re—”

In any position to talk . But Taichi fell silent before he could finish the sentence. There stood Fujishima, hands on her hips, and in that moment, she looked as though she could take on the entire world. She was stronger than he was, at any rate. But what was it about her that made him feel that way? It wasn’t her size or stature... Was it her determination? Her resolve? Her agency?

What IS “agency,” anyway?

“To be clear, I’m not trying to criticize you. We’re both still kids—we’ve got time to grow. That said, we’re going to need to submit our career planning surveys soon, so you should try to find at least some agency by then, ideally.”

“Oh, you’re not trying to criticize me? Could’ve fooled me! Why are you jumping down my throat, then?” he snapped.

“Alright, I’ll just cut to the chase,” Fujishima replied. “The way you’ve been helping people lately? Yaegashi Taichi is incapable of that. One could argue that maybe you’ve matured as a person, but even then, this is simply too much, too soon. Not only that, but your track record is perfect—too perfect. That’s what makes me think you must’ve gained some sort of superpower.”

“Okay, I can accept the first part... but how did you arrive at superpowers , of all things?” he asked again.

She scowled. “Trust me, I know how crazy it sounds, but... it’s just abnormal . Your entire club has been acting strangely ever since... right about this time last year, actually...” She fixed him with a challenging stare.

Taichi swallowed. He had no reply to this.

“In isolation, they were tiny oddities, and I was inclined to let them go. But then they kept piling up and piling up... until eventually I grew convinced that something was wrong. And the more I started to pay attention, the more I began to suspect that something serious had happened.”

Something serious did happen. Six times, in fact. But it only ever affected the members of the CRC, and Taichi had been under the impression that they’d kept a lid on it... but like it or not, their tight-knit community was still obligated to interact with the outside world... Even if they never exposed themselves directly, perhaps it was only a matter of time before they were found out...

“And if my hypothesis is correct, Yaegashi-kun, you’re at the center of it all.”

Okay, maybe she wasn’t one hundred percent on the money, but still... it was enough to make him sweat.

“What are you people doing in that club of yours?”

She took a step forward. He took a step back. And when he went to take a second, he bumped into his desk. He had nowhere to run.

“What are you up to?”

She leaned in until her lips were nearly touching his. Behind her perfectly composed expression, he could feel her unwavering tenacity. And this was the moment he realized he had messed up.

He’d known she possessed a keen sense of intuition—that she was a veritable fountain of untapped potential. But over the past year, she’d only ever devoted her energy to “love” or whatever, so he’d assumed that was all she cared about.

He hadn’t given proper consideration to the people in his life who had witnessed the worst of the phenomena... and in his carelessness, he had brought this situation upon himself.

“...Not that I expect you to answer, of course.” She took a step back. “But the battle has only just begun, Yaegashi-kun. I know there’s more to this than you’re letting on. And I will uncover your secret, I promise you that.”

Her full attention was now directed squarely at him—at the CRC and its secrets. And deep down, on a visceral level, he could feel the severity of his mistake.

“As of this moment, you can consider me Master Detective Fujishima Maiko,” she declared, her finger pointed in his direction.

Somehow her pose was both painfully cheesy and utterly badass.

□■□■□

They’d faced off with Inaba, and now Fujishima had declared war against them, but despite that—no, perhaps in part because of it—Taichi committed to using the Dream Vision that very day. After all, if he stopped now, it would feel as though he was proving them right. Proving that he did not , in fact, have any agency.

If he truly believed in this course of action, then he needed to see it through.

The next day, he told Kiriyama what had happened with Fujishima. Naturally, she found this news alarming. Fortunately, for whatever reason, Fujishima only suspected Taichi, not her; thus, they decided that he would serve as the public face of their operation.

Truth be told, he knew they should probably warn the others that Fujishima was sniffing around, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do it. After all, he and Kiriyama were the only two committed to using their power, so in one sense it was their problem to solve. No longer were the five of them a united front.

A day passed. Then two. Then three. Slowly but surely, the rumors about Taichi and his flawless advice continued to spread. Over this time period, it became apparent that Inaba and Fujishima were taking action to combat them, because every now and then he’d get comments like “You know, Inaba-san told me not to ask you...” or “Fujishima-san demanded to know what we talked about. What’s up with that?”

Regardless, neither of them ever tried to interfere with him directly. And so a few more days passed.

When he arrived at the clubroom, Nagase stormed right up to him. “Taichi, have you been talking to Inaban lately?”

“...Sure I have. You’ve seen me.”

Despite the hostility between them, he was still mature enough to attend club activities. He wasn’t going to treat her like a monster just because of this one disagreement.

“You know what I mean! Have you been spending time together as a couple?”

“Well...” Short answer: no. He’d stopped interacting with her outside of the clubroom—it was just too awkward.

“I knew it! Look, today we’ve got a lot of absent folks for one reason or another, so it’s just gonna be the three of us anyways.”

Indeed, absences had increased among them lately, though not dramatically.

“So I’m thinking—”

Just then, the door opened and Inaba walked in. “Hey.”

“—you guys should go on a date! That’s an order from your club president!”

“Hmm? What’s going on? Wait... Iori?!”

“Ouch! Don’t push me, Nagase! Whoa!”

And so Nagase steered them both bodily from the room.

“What the...? What’s her problem?” Inaba growled, baffled.

“Uhhh... Apparently almost everyone’s going to be absent today, so she wants us to go hang out by ourselves somewhere,” Taichi explained dutifully.

“Wh... Give me a break! We may be dating, but we’re still technically at war. And while I acknowledge that we haven’t cut off all contact, I refuse to fraternize with the enemy!”

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

She was clearly holding him at arm’s length, and yet she seemed... timid, somehow... No, he had it backwards. She was speaking harshly on purpose to make it seem like she was more distant than she really was.

“Either way, you’re still my girlfriend. Now let’s go grab some coffee.”

Without waiting for her response, he walked off... and after a pause, she reluctantly followed after him.

“...Don’t break out the G-word... That’s cheating...” she mumbled somewhere behind him.

See? I can intuit people’s feelings just fine, Taichi thought.

—That’s not what I’m talking about, the Fujishima in his mind replied.

At their usual cafe, Taichi ordered tea and a slice of cheesecake, while Inaba ordered coffee and chocolate cake. They discussed mostly harmless topics, like things that happened in class, or who won the soccer game the other day, or which movies were coming to theaters soon. And by the time they finished their dessert, they had both run out of things to say. Normally, the silence didn’t bother him, but today Taichi felt restless.

Stalling for time, they sipped at their drinks; Inaba was the first to finish hers. With a reluctant sigh, she set her mug down.

“Are you still doing that crap?”

It wasn’t like her to avoid his gaze.

“Yeah.”

“And you have no intention of stopping?”

“...Well, people are approaching me directly now, so I can’t really say no.”

For the briefest of moments, her lips curled in a grimace.

“This phenomenon really doesn’t play by the rules, does it? If only there was a clear enemy to fight or crisis to solve, it would be so much easier.”

They were perfectly civil. The air between them was calm. And yet Taichi remained uneasy.

“...Truth be told, I’d like to do everything in my power to stop you. By force, if necessary.”

“But you can’t?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him; perhaps she interpreted this as a challenge.

“I could actually stop you if I really wanted to. I could always lock you up somewhere. Or I could do something to ruin your credibility to the point that no one would ever listen to you again,” she explained nonchalantly—all the more frightening because she was completely serious. “But naturally, I can’t go that far. If I cross that line, there’s no going back. And that means «Heartseed» wins.” Evidently she was willing to go to great lengths... just as long as they could bounce back from it. But after a moment of thought, she shook her head. “No... It’s just not a line I’m willing to cross, personally. No matter how deeply I disagree with your methods, I can’t lower myself to that level.” She went to take another sip of coffee before realizing the mug was already empty. Annoyed, she set it back down and pushed it away. “So, how does it make you feel, knowing I’m completely against you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on. Surely you must feel some sort of way about it. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Well, I mean... this goes without saying, but... I don’t enjoy fighting with you. That said... this is just something I have to do,” he declared firmly.

“...That’s it...?” Her eyes widened slightly, as if to suggest she could scarcely believe it.

Was there something wrong with what he said? Surely not.

“...I see. So that’s how you feel.” She exhaled angrily. “Okay, I’m just going to ask,” she continued in a shaky voice, and he could tell she was about to say something important. “Who is it that you live to serve?”

That... was not the question he was expecting. “Who do I... live to serve...?”

He couldn’t speak. It was just really unexpected, that’s all. That’s why he didn’t have an answer right away. He searched within himself. Nothing came to mind.

“Well, obviously... my life’s purpose is to serve everyone.” Yes, that was the obvious answer. Obviously he would feel that way.

“Oh, fuck off,” Inaba growled, her voice crawling over his skin. He could feel her fury—quiet, but ever-present—pointed in his direction. “Is your martyr-itis flaring up again or something?”

“No! I’m not just trying to sacrifice myself. I know that’s selfish. This time I’m taking everyone’s needs into consideration—”

“Stop. Just... stop talking,” Inaba interrupted. She buried her face in her hands. “These days I’m really starting to understand who you are... as a person, I mean.” Her voice was faint, almost like she was scared... Scared of what? He didn’t know.

What he did know was that he was scared, too. Scared because it felt like she could see right through him.

He could feel her anxiety in the air, and he wanted to soothe it... but at the same time, he was already so busy... God, I’m so confused...

“Just let me say one last thing.”

She lowered her hands back to the table, and as she gazed directly into his eyes, he could feel a massive gulf between them.

“Let’s say everyone on Earth exists to serve someone else. Person A serves Person B who serves Person C, and so on. In the end, it all goes around in a big circle. And no one can ever have goals of their own, because everyone believes they’re only meant to serve others.”

Surely helping others—serving others—was a virtue. And yet Inaba disagreed completely.

“You know where that kind of world is headed? Decline. The extinction of humanity.”

Taichi recoiled. Never could he accept such an idea... and yet, at the same time, he could see the logic—

[There’s a girl with chin-length hair and piercings in her ears. It’s Setouchi Kaoru. In front of her is a tall bookshelf. Her head is tilted up, and her gaze is fixed on one book in particular... but she can’t reach it. Then, suddenly, a step stool appears before her. Relieved, she steps onto it.]

“—Where are you going, Taichi?”

“Huh...? Oh... uhh...” He realized he’d suddenly risen to his feet. Sheepishly, he sank back down into his chair.

There was a major book retailer infamous for their extremely tall shelves just next door to this very cafe. Was Setouchi over there right this moment? That proximity would explain why Taichi saw her Dream...

“Taichi!”

Snapping back to reality, he turned his gaze back to Inaba.

“Damn it, are you listening to me? You zoned out for a minute there... Wait. Did you have a Vision?”

His heart skipped a beat.

“...So you were about to go help them. Hah... You piece of shit.” She scowled at him contemptuously as she disparaged him.

How long had it been since she last treated him this way? Not since they started dating, that was for sure.

“Hey, Taichi?”

Inaba grabbed the bill off the table and started packing up to go.

“Do you think people with drastically different worldviews can pursue a romantic relationship?”

Her gaze was focused not at him, but at her hands.

“Have you even given any thought to... your future with me?”

Her tone was perfectly composed. A brief ripple of silence passed between them, and Taichi couldn’t help but wonder if that tiny ripple was heralding a tsunami wave.

This was his first serious relationship, so he’d never experienced a breakup before... and yet somehow he could feel one looming on the horizon.

She rose to her feet, and he followed suit.

“Listen, Taichi... I really love you,” she told him dispassionately, without batting a lash. To her, she was simply stating a fact.

This caught him off-guard, and he froze.

“But... do you actually love me back?”

For a moment, he hesitated.

And that hesitation was, itself, an answer. The wrong answer.

In a blink, all the color drained from Inaba’s face as her eyes filled with despair.

“N-No, Inaba, it’s not what you think! Don’t jump to conclusions, I definitely—whoa!”

Without looking up at him, she thrust her fist out—so fast, it resembled a punch. He extended his hand to meet it, and she dropped some money into his palm.

Then she lowered her head until her forehead was pressed against his chest. Her hair smelled like the last lingering remnants of summer.

She was right here, reaching out to him—an oasis in the desert. One blink and she might disappear. But when he moved to touch her, she pulled away. He started to panic. He knew he needed to say something, but he couldn’t think of the right words.

“...You know what? I’ll cover the tab. I’m the one who wanted to come here, after all,” he said at last, donning a bright smile that didn’t feel genuine.

But Inaba simply shook her head. “No thanks. I don’t take bribes from the enemy.”

She was putting up a boundary. Their peaceful moment as boyfriend and girlfriend had come to an end, and now they were on opposing sides once more.

“I love you, Taichi. And that’s why I’m going to crush you with everything I’ve got... even if it means we have to break up.”

□■□■□

At the station, Taichi said goodbye to Inaba and headed home alone.

After everything she said to him, he was so lightheaded, he could scarcely walk upright. It felt like a stiff breeze could knock him over at any moment. And during the entire train ride home, his mind was in a daze.

Then, as he passed through the turnstiles and stepped out onto the street... there stood «Heartseed».

At first, he was sure it couldn’t be real. This ethereal being couldn’t possibly fit in with ordinary society this well. And yet there it was—Gotou Ryuuzen’s body, piloted by someone who was decidedly not Gotou Ryuuzen. Absently, Taichi found himself wondering if all that body invasion ever had any sort of negative impact on Gotou’s life, or god forbid, his health. This was not the first time the question had crossed his mind, either.

“Feels like I’ve been seeing a lot more of you this time around,” Taichi commented aloud after a moment.

“You think so...?” replied the lifeless human puppet. “Well... I suppose you’re right...”

At first Taichi felt nervous to be having this conversation right there on the street, but after glancing around, he realized the sidewalk and neighboring parking lot were basically deserted. «Heartseed» must have chosen this location on purpose.

“Is there a reason you wanted to show yourself to me?”

“Well... I mean... it’s hard to explain, but... I think I’m on the cusp of making... a critical discovery...”

“You are?”

For a moment he thought perhaps it was about to tell him something important, but he quickly dismissed this idea. This was «Heartseed» he was dealing with; it only spoke in riddles. Surely it would say “Oh dear... It seems I’ve said too much...” and change the subject—

“Well... Should things go poorly... Actually, no, if all goes well... if I keep watching you... it feels as though I might just... find the thing I’ve been looking for all this time... or at least a clue...”

«Heartseed» had directly answered his question. Had hell frozen over?

“Why me?”

“I don’t know... It’s just a feeling I have... Oh, but... perhaps... if I were to describe it... It feels as though you and I... are the same...?”

“...What? No we aren’t. What could possibly make you think that?” The thought of being likened to an inhuman entity made him ill.

“Oh... It would appear I misspoke... Well, it’s something along those lines... Anyway, what was I doing here? Oh, yes... I came to give you some encouragement... You can do it.”

Encouragement? Why? «Heartseed» was acting completely unlike its usual self. What did it stand to gain from doing this?

“Now then... I’d rather avoid staying any longer than I need to... Wouldn’t want anyone to catch us, so... I’d better be going.”

“Catch us? Who are you talking ab—Hey!” But it ignored him and walked off.

As usual, «Heartseed» called all the shots.