Chapter 3 – The Argument for Happiness

1 – October 24th (Tuesday), 9 AM

He couldn’t sleep the previous night. Couldn’t even get himself to try.

Asai Kei trudged down a deserted road, his dull headache serving as a constant reminder of his sleep deprivation.

It was October 24th. Despite it being 9 AM on a Tuesday morning, everything in Kei’s eyes appeared lifeless and dull. Telephone poles and mailboxes seemed to slump over. The sky was cloudy, with a 60 percent chance of rain, not even allowing a decent amount of light through.

From the moment his phone call with The Operator had ended, Kei had been thinking about Souma Sumire. 16 hours later, that hadn’t changed. He still couldn’t get her off his mind. A myriad of emotions swept through every thought of her. Annoyance, sadness, even a touch of fear. Empathy, respect, and naturally, affection. He wanted to blend it all together, but they just wouldn’t mix, leaving him with an unidentified, rock-solid, disorganized lump.

It brought to mind his own words that he had once said to her.

Being able to feel all those emotions towards one girl is what’s known as liking her. Surely that still held up.

He kept on thinking. He thought about the things Souma had done, and the possible emotions that would cause her to do those things. If his conclusions were accurate, then… for the first time ever, he genuinely thought she was a fool.

But that didn’t change the truth. Asai Kei loved Souma Sumire.

He loved her, completely and hopelessly, from the bottom of his heart. He loved her… second to Haruki. He couldn’t change that, no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t even feel like he had a choice, as if an absolute force was pushing him in that direction.

Souma Sumire.

If you were the person I valued most, then… could things have been different?

Could she have avoided her own death two years ago?

He couldn’t help himself from imagining such impossibilities. I’m just so tired, he thought. So incredibly tired. He just wanted to run away to a world of his imagination, where he could dream peaceful dreams. He was so very, very tired.

Yet he continued to walk forward.

The soles of his shoes dragged across the asphalt, basic forces of friction and motion moving him along. But no matter how worn down he was, he would keep walking forward. Just like he always did. As he crossed the street, the pedestrian light began flashing, so he quickened his pace just slightly.

He turned the final corner, and Haruki’s house came into view. He walked up to the mailbox at the entrance, shoving a paperback book into it.

That was Souma Sumire’s third instruction. The book itself wasn’t particularly important, but Haruki Misora needed to have it.

He glanced over at the doorbell beside the mailbox. He stared at it for the length of two breaths before turning his back on Haruki’s house.

He walked away. One step, then another. He forced his way forward through his exhaustion.

Then, he heard a sound from behind. It was a door opening. At the same moment, a girl’s voice called out.

“Kei.”

He turned around to find Haruki Misora standing in the doorway, a cardigan slipped over her pajamas. Her breathing was slightly labored, telling him she must have rushed to the door.

“Good morning to you, Kei.” She showed him an incredibly sincere smile.

“Morning.” Kei smiled back, and it wasn’t fake. She makes me feel so safe. “What’s up?”

“I saw you from my window. Did you have some business with me?”

“Just had something for you. It’s in your mailbox, so make sure to take a look at it later.”

“I would have been glad to invite you into my room.”

“I really didn’t wanna bother you so early in the morning.”

A lie.

He didn’t want to see Haruki Misora at the moment. It was too early to get her involved. He likely wouldn’t need her ability until tomorrow evening. Among other reasons.

Haruki walked over to Kei, her expression clouding over. “Kei… Are you tired?”

No, definitely not. I’m fine. You know how I’m just totally not a morning person–

All of those possible arguments died in his throat. After seeing the look on her face, he felt so relieved despite it all, and he just couldn’t keep up the tough guy act. He had expected that, so he really hadn’t wanted to see her.

Kei smiled. “Yeah. It’s been… hard.”

Haruki’s eyes widened in surprise. “Then you must relax, and take time to rest.”

“There’s just a little more. There are things I have to do.”

She peered into his face. Her eyes were deadly serious. “No. You cannot.”

“Why not?”

“You need to rest more than anything else.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a trooper, when it comes down to it.”

She shook her head. “This is the first time you have ever admitted to having a difficult time. Not even two years ago… Even when Souma Sumire died, you never said that.”

She’s right, Kei admitted, at least on the inside.

Two years prior, Souma Sumire had died, and Haruki Misora cried on the rooftop. But what he was currently going through was leagues worse than that day. He felt so helpless, and it was all unbearable.

“What is happening?” Haruki asked.

“Nothing, really. I’ve just been thinking things over by myself.”

“What have you been thinking about?”

“Souma, basically.”

“Do you understand her now?”

“I do.” He knew why she died two years ago. He knew what she was trying to accomplish in the present. He could finally make sense of everything she had been telling him up to that point. He understood the narrative she had been weaving. “I think I finally get it all now. I can’t prove anything, but it all just feels right.”

He had lain in his bed with his eyes closed all of the previous night. He’d get a drink of water when he was thirsty, and wash his face when all the thinking became too difficult. He repeated that process several times over, and Souma Sumire was on his mind all the while.

For every thought that he had, he could feel something within him wearing away, bit by bit. As it softly crumbled away, his thoughts continued to press forward. By the time the sun rose, he was both entirely exhausted and completely convinced.

“You were right, you know. What you said yesterday.” Souma Sumire had made a mistake. “It really doesn’t matter what your reason is… there’s just… nothing about dying that could possibly make it the right thing to do.”

Haruki closed her eyes for a short time. When they opened back up, Kei could see his miserable smile reflected clearly within them. “Souma Sumire died for you… didn’t she?”

Exactly. It was so ridiculous. What was he supposed to do with that?

How was he supposed to just… be okay with it?

A girl died… and it was just for me.

Souma Sumire… died.

How was he ever supposed to be able to accept that?

Haruki laid her left hand on Kei’s cheek. “You really need to rest. Stop thinking, and sleep well.”

Her palm felt so comforting that he almost wanted to nod off right there. “Thank you… but I’m fine.”

He had received Souma’s third instruction the night before, to put his paperback in the mailbox. That was done, but Souma had four requests in total. There was still one left. He couldn’t rest until it was all over.

Haruki looked like she was ready to burst into tears. But he knew that she probably wouldn’t cry this time.

Maybe I’m just seeing myself reflected in her eyes.

She had cried once, two years ago, for Kei. Asai Kei had wanted to cry, but he couldn’t, so Haruki Misora cried in his place.

But Kei knew that now was not the time to cry. So Haruki wouldn’t, either.

She continued to stare straight at him. “What are you going to do now?”

That, at least, was a foregone conclusion. “I’m gonna do everything I can to reach the best possible ending.”

Even if he couldn’t reach it, he could try to get a little closer. Even if he couldn’t imagine it, he would try to aim in its general direction. He just had to keep searching.

“Then there is nothing else I can do.” Haruki smiled. He figured it was probably an intentional expression. But it was so beautiful that he couldn’t tell whether it was straight from her heart, or something she did on purpose. “There is nothing I can do, except ask for your safe return.”

Safe return, huh? So that was what Haruki Misora chose to say. It was the perfect choice.

“Yeah. I’ll be back.”

Kei answered her as resolutely and seriously as he could manage.

✽

Urachi Masamune stood in a conference room on the third floor of one of the buildings owned by the Administration Bureau.

He had just been holding a meeting on how to deal with the recent surge of ability outbursts. The meeting itself had only taken about 20 minutes, because there was only one item on the agenda; Urachi’s countermeasures, which all those present had approved. The countermeasure could have been provided by anybody who knew the inner workings of the Bureau, but nobody else had yet brought it up. Most of the attendees had likely been expecting it ever since the meeting was called.

By and large, the Administration Bureau followed a template for their countermeasures to any incidents. Before any action was taken, an ultimatum was established that could guarantee the problem would be solved. Then, they would draw the line at how far the situation was allowed to progress before utilizing their ultimatum.

In the same way, they would draw a line before the ultimatum, and another before that. Many specifics to consider when drawing lines and their appropriate countermeasures were already set out in a manual, which could be easily referred to during the process.

So, Urachi had suggested his countermeasure as well as the situation that would call for it, not unlike starting at the end of a maze and tracing backwards. Since it was all hypotheticals, and the problem needed to develop up to the countermeasure, it was almost guaranteed to be approved.

“That went well,” commented the Bureau employee who didn’t have an ability, his words pushed out in a tired-sounding drawl. Urachi didn’t know it, but the other man’s name was written down in his notebook as Tsushima Shintarou.

Urachi nodded. “I suppose it did. Not that I can remember.”

The only people left in the room were Urachi, Tsushima, and the ever-silent Bureau employee by the name of Kagaya.

Urachi dropped his gaze to the notebook in his hand. He was consistently using his ability to remove all of his own memories, relegating everything he could ever know to what was written on those pages. He could flip to the 27th page if he wanted, finding a neat outline of all the individuals involved in his plan. But he wouldn’t bother remembering that detail unless he had to. Then, once he didn’t need it any more, he would forget it again.

Flipping through his notebook, he absentmindedly asked, “Will Asai-kun use the Reset?”

His answer came from Tsushima. “It’s almost guaranteed.”

“When would that be?”

“More than likely it’ll be 72 hours after his last save. He’d want to gather as much information as possible, so that’ll probably happen somewhere around 7PM tomorrow.”

“I see. How efficient.”

But that would be too late.

What’s your next play, Asai-kun?

Many pages detailing Urachi’s plans were scrawled over with a “complete”. From what it seemed, he didn’t have long at all before abilities would disappear from Sakurada. And if that happened, then not even a reset would be possible.

“You sure spend a lot of time worrying about Asai Kei.”

Urachi turned his eyes to Tsushima as if he were tracking his voice. “Mhm. That boy’s the only exception.”

“What kind of exception?”

“The exception to Sakurada’s rules.”

His single, trivial ability broke all the rules of Sakurada. His was the only one in all 40 years of Sakurada’s abilities to go beyond the Boundary Line.

“But, that’s all he is.” When put in a Sakurada without abilities, nothing the boy wanted to do by himself would mean anything.

Things needed to end sooner rather than later.

Urachi turned to Tsushima, saying, “I have a request for you.”

The man furrowed his eyebrows cautiously. “You want something else?”

Tsushima had been entrusted with all external response to ability outbursts. It was preferable to leave such work to someone without an ability, so they couldn’t possibly cause any more trouble in the process.

Of course, to Urachi, the position itself was of no significance. It was merely a formality to give the illusion of incident progression so his countermeasure could be accepted.

There’s a better reason to keep him close at hand.

“I need you to help persuade a particular individual.”

Smiling, Urachi’s eyes lowered again to the notebook in his hands. Only one line remained in the schedule. Just one more move, and his plan would come together.

The Administration Bureau would soon be ready to follow his plan and use the ultimatum.