2 – The same day, 5:30 PM

After that, the two of them ate chicken curry. During their meal, Souma told Kei all kinds of things. They were important, but fairly insignificant compared to what came prior.

By the time their talk in the bathroom had finished, the sun had fully set, but it wasn’t completely dark outside, as a slight fading glow remained to lead into the moonlight. It was the perfect time for the two of them to relax and enjoy some chicken curry.

As Kei took another bite, Souma asked, “How’s it taste?” with a focused look into his face.

Kei offered his most honest smile as he responded. “It’s incredibly delicious.” It wasn’t at all spicy, but instead had a very light and sweet roux with sour undertones. The curry was incredibly delicious. “It tastes kinda nostalgic.” Kei, of course, was perfectly capable of tracing back that nostalgia.

I’ve eaten this chicken curry before. Not just once, either. Maybe 10 times? 20? Definitely more. He started counting every individual instance, then stopped himself.

It was his mother’s recipe for chicken curry.

“The trick is to add plenty of tomato with just a little bit of yogurt,” Souma proudly proclaimed.

The ingredients brought back memories. “When I was little, my mom would add yogurt to keep it from being too spicy. She added less over time, but our curry always had at least a bit of yogurt in it.”

Spoon in hand, Souma tilted her head. “But it tastes just a bit different, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. It’s not exactly the same.” It was incredibly similar, but just not quite what he remembered. “There a reason for that?”

“Nope. I just couldn’t do it.” Souma took a bite of curry, smiling. “I don’t know how many times I used my ability to make this curry. I’d see your reactions and redo it little by little, like some kind of science experiment. I tried all kinds of combinations.”

Kei tried to imagine what she was talking about. Thinking about her crossing off curry recipes in her mind during all of their previous conversations brought a small smile to his face.

“Still, no matter what I did, I could never get it just right.”

“That’s odd. I wonder why.” The same recipe should have made the same curry.

“I don’t think future sight can compare to a mother’s love. Probably just comes down to that,” Souma admitted, rather straightforwardly.

Kei took his last bite of the curry. It really was incredibly delicious. “That was amazing. It may not have been exactly the same, but it was just as delicious.”

“Of course it was,” Souma said with a smile. “It might not have been the same type, but it still had love put into it.” Her expression was calm and bright, and all her worries seemed to have fallen away.

Kei figured the chicken curry was her way of trying to sweep things under the rug. A way to push back all of their conversations, all the crying in the bathroom, and end things on a happy note.

He really wanted to play along. It would have been nice to just smile and wave, and see her off.

But he couldn’t end the day with a conversation over curry.

Ever since she had gotten in that bathroom, the only thing he wanted to do was scream at her. How could she die, claiming it to be for his happiness? What about all the suffering she put him through? He wanted to put it all on the table.

But she knew all of that. She knew everything, and she still chose.

I need to tell her something else. Kei looked straight forward, meeting Souma Suimre’s eyes. “I want to protect abilities. Or, to put it your way, I want to control all of Sakurada’s abilities.”

Two years ago, Souma Sumire had dubbed a small black pebble as “The MacGuffin.” A MacGuffin was an item to tie the protagonist to their story. It was a prop that served a single role.

But Souma Sumire tied a prophetic rumor to her MacGuffin.

Whoever holds the MacGuffin can control all the abilities in Sakurada.

Kei still had possession of the MacGuffin. It was sitting somewhere in a desk drawer. He figured it was something like a crown, not having any power in itself, but representing the power of its owner. Similarly, the MacGuffin didn’t mean anything, but its owner would become the protagonist. The protagonist of Souma Sumire’s planned narrative.

Souma always knew that I wouldn’t be able to abandon Sakurada’s abilities. She knew the lengths that Kei would go to protect them, and prepared a narrative to run alongside him.

“I’ll control them, using them all the way that I please. I’ll use abilities to make Sakurada a place where wonderful miracles happen.”

He knew that abilities presented problems. He understood Urachi Masamune’s motives and intentions. But those other viewpoints weren’t his ideal. And he had firmly decided to chase after his ideals.

Souma nodded, smiling. “And I know you’ll do well. You’re my protagonist, after all.” Her voice resounded with satisfaction. Like she had no regrets.

It made him sad. It was so frustrating. “Y’know, Souma… Ever since last night, ever since August, and ever since two years ago, when you died… I’ve been constantly thinking about you.”

Souma tilted her head in faux innocence. “More than Haruki?”

“Well, I also thought about Haruki, but I suppose I spent more time overall thinking about you.”

“Well, that makes me happy.”

The world outside the window was silent. Kei was sure that if he looked up into that soundless night sky, he might find a few twinkling stars. But he didn’t have time for such distractions. He stared ahead, focusing only on Souma Sumire. “I wonder why I never did that before you died.”

That summer of two years ago. The summer period declared by Souma Sumire herself.

That whole time, Kei’s thoughts were filled with nothing but Haruki Misora. What if he had spent that same time thinking about Souma Sumire? Could things have been different?

For a long while, Souma didn’t say a word of response. She sat there, staring back at him. Kei listened hard, but nothing was coming. They were in a calm, blank space.

But the longer she looked at him, the more emotions raged and filled his chest.

When Souma Sumire finally spoke, her voice was only a whisper. “Do you regret it?”

“I do. So much.”

“Will you always regret it?”

“Yeah. Probably forever.”

“Then I suppose that’ll have to do for me.” She quickly moved her spoon around, scooping up her remaining curry. Then she smiled, as if everything had been neatly resolved. “Well, mind if I leave the cleanup to you?”

“‘Course.”

“Then I guess it’s time for me to head home.” She stood. “It’s gonna rain soon. Mind if I borrow an umbrella?”

The dark blue sky was entirely clear, without a single cloud in sight.

“When will it rain?”

“In about ten minutes. It’ll be over by tomorrow morning.”

“I see.” Kei also stood up, heading to the entrance. Two plastic umbrellas were laid by his door, his old one, and the new one he had just bought. He grabbed the newest one, handing it to Souma, who had already slung on her sports bag. “Can I walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be okay.”

“A girl shouldn’t walk home alone in the dark.”

“Maybe not normal girls who don’t know the future.” She accepted the umbrella with a genuine smile. “Well, goodbye.”

Kei shook his head. He wouldn’t allow that word. “You only ever said goodbye once.” Two years ago, at a rainy bus stop. The last place he ended up seeing her.

He couldn’t let her leave like that.

Souma Sumire– that solitary, high-minded, whimsical, earnest, stray cat of a girl– smiled and corrected herself. “Then I’ll see you next time, Kei.”

“Mhm. Later.” Asai Kei nodded, taking her words as a promise.

It was 6:05 PM. Only 12 minutes before the rain would start to fall.

✽

Urachi Masamune stepped out of a small, blue car, into the underground parking lot of a particular building. The parking space was notably small.

The driver’s door opened, and Kagaya stepped out. He walked directly towards the back of the building.

Urachi followed behind him, asking, “So this is where it was. I’ve been here a few times for meetings. Did you know?”

Kagaya shook his head and offered only a curt, “No.”

“Well, that’s how it goes.”

The two got into an elevator. Its doors closed, and it began moving soundlessly. They went down and down, but it was unclear just how far they were really traveling. Eventually, the elevator doors opened to a dimly lit corridor. They began walking again, passing through several doors in the straight corridor.

Urachi noticed a difference in Kagaya’s pace. The man was walking slightly slower than usual, falling behind by a few steps. “Does it hurt to think about seeing them again?” he asked.

Kagaya was the ability user that the three founders had been waiting for. Anything his right hand touched became unable to change. He alone could establish the permanence of the Boundary Line.

For a while, the only sound was the echoing of footsteps. Eventually Kagaya answered, “Yes. Of course it does.” His voice had become childish, close to tears.

It brought to mind the day that Urachi Masamune first met Kagaya. He was only a boy then, and he had been crying. Urachi could still remember the apologies the boy pushed out through his sobs. “Don’t let it get to you. You did the right thing. You should be proud.”

“Yes. I understand that.”

Of course, Urachi knew there would be no rational way to convince him of that fact. Emotions always worked on a different scale.

Kagaya had stopped time for two people. For all intents and purposes, they became stones. They were the two ability users who made up the Boundary Line, Urachi Masamune’s mother and father. They no longer spoke, and no longer thought.

“But don’t you–” Kagaya started, hesitation palpable in his voice. “Won’t it be difficult for you to see them again?”

“Of course it’ll be difficult. But I’ll finally be able to see my mother again after so long. That’s something to be happy about.”

His mother had been turned to stone exactly eight years after his father, transformed by Kagaya’s power on Urachi’s 20th birthday. She had left him with a few parting words.

I’m sorry that I have to leave you alone. She smiled. I’m going to become just like him.

His mother loved his father deeply. In a way, she was likely looking forward to joining him for eternity, becoming unchanging by his side.

Urachi could only think how foolish it was.

The target of Kagaya’s ability would become entirely unable to hear, think, speak, or see anything. They would lose all consciousness. What value could there possibly be in being with someone in that state? What could anyone have to gain by joining his father in that kind of existence?

It made Urachi think of a question the Witch had once asked him.

Do you think you could fall in love with a stone?

The obvious answer was that he couldn’t. And it was unthinkable to turn a human into a stone. Humans weren’t meant to be anything but humans. There was nothing else for them to become.

“Today, my mother will no longer be a stone.” In order to remove all information from the world about abilities, his mother had to stop using her ability. That meant she needed to be freed from Kagaya’s ability. “She will return to being a human. That’s a joyous thing.”

They finally reached the end of the long, dark passage. They were met with a small room shaped like a cube. There were no windows or lights of any kind. It was a room nobody was meant to be in.

A pair of Bureau officers shone flashlights into the room. The only objects within the room were two large boxes placed in its center. They were roughly 20 inches tall, with a length of about 6 feet and a width not much larger than 2 feet.

They were coffins. These ones weren’t designed for cremation, but rather to allow people to sleep inside of them for a long time. Preferably until the end of the world. The coffins were white and rather beautiful, looking like they had just been made. Of course, they had been in use for nearly twelve years.

“This one,” one of the officers stated, pointing at a coffin with his flashlight.

Urachi turned to Kagaya with a nod. “If you would.”

Kagaya walked hesitantly up to the coffin, kneeling and touching it with his left hand. The coffin was unlocked after twelve long years. The two other officers deftly removed its lid while still holding their flashlights.

Inside lay a woman in a sleep like death.

Of course, neither part of that description was completely accurate. She was entirely still. More so than sleep, more so than death. She was unchanged. She had remained in that singular state for twelve years, her ability the only active part of her.

Strangely, the sight of her stirred no emotion within Urachi. He was not particularly moved by their twelve-year awaited reunion. He didn’t feel sad, and he didn’t feel angry. Rather, he felt relieved. His heart was entirely at peace.

After all, once she awoke and stopped her ability, everything would be completed.

Kagaya gently touched her shoulder, releasing his ability’s hold over her. Her eyelids moved ever so slightly. The stone became human once more, and time resumed its flow over her.

Whispering quietly enough that nobody could hear, Urachi said, “There’s no more time for dreaming.”

There was only the Sakurada Reset.

A holy revival of the town.

✽

It was 6:17 PM.

A droplet of rain hit Souma Sumire’s nose, but the girl no longer understood its significance. She opened the plastic umbrella in her right hand, looking up at the sky.

Hm? It’s cloudy? She had the strangest feeling that she had just been walking under a beautifully clear sky. But even so, she must’ve known it would rain, because she was holding an umbrella.

This umbrella… that’s right, Kei lent it to me. She borrowed it because it looked like it would rain as she left his house.

It was the strangest feeling. Her memory was hazy, like she had just woken up from a dream. Dreams filled her mind with the strangest memories and notions. It gave her fantasies of flying elephants and reunions with the dead. But after waking up, reality always set back in. She would usually forget whatever she was dreaming about, soon forgetting that she had ever dreamt at all.

She was feeling a sensation quite similar to that.

But looking up at a clear sky had to have been no more than a silly fantasy. The sky had to have been cloudy for a while, leading to her asking Kei for an umbrella. Surely that was what happened.

Rain pattered down upon her umbrella. She shifted her chin uncomfortably towards the sky, and her sports bag slipped. She panicked, moving to quickly support it.

Wait, if I went over to make curry, why did I bring an extra bag?

Now that she thought about it, it had to have been because she went running earlier that day. Right, she went for a jog, then went to Kei’s place to make curry. She was planning a shower there, so she packed a change of clothes and an apron in her bag.

Well, that’s dumb. Why would I go for a run before visiting Kei?

Oh, of course. It was an excuse to use his shower.

She thought she might get him a little riled up. She figured that a girl showering in his room while they were alone together might get his heart thumping a bit, but it didn’t really go according to plan. That was a little frustrating.

Oh, well. At least he told me the curry was really tasty.

There really wasn’t a problem. It had been a very happy day. Yeah, very much so.

But what about tomorrow? What would she say when she ran into him at school?

So her thoughts continued as Souma Sumire walked down the rainy, nighttime street.

She was completely oblivious to the rewriting of her own memories.

✽

She could hear some kind of white noise.

When Haruki Misora awoke, she was lying in a bed. She sat up, and her long, wavy hair flowed beside her. Shaking her head, she glanced out the window. She identified the noise she had heard as the sound of the falling rain.

She slowly looked around, concluding, This is a hospital room.

But why was she in the hospital? She couldn’t quite comprehend her situation, but that was okay. She continued sitting in her bed. The room was dim, as the lights weren’t on. But there was no need to go turn them on. She sat in place, not wanting anything, not even thinking, like a doll placed upon the windowsill.

The door to the room opened eventually, and the light turned on. A man in a white coat entered the room. Haruki figured he was a doctor, because he was holding a clipboard with a chart on it in his hand.

“Are you awake?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Haruki nodded.

“Do you have any memories?”

The question was quite difficult to understand. Memories of what? She knew her name. She knew her address and phone number. Those were memories. But were they the memories he was asking about?

Such thoughts went through her head as she answered, “I can remember all that I remember. What memories are you speaking of?”

The doctor cleared his throat. “You were brought here because you fainted in your room. Do you remember that?”

Haruki Misora shook her head. “No. I do not remember that.”

“I see. I have some questions for you.”

He had already asked several questions, but Haruki decided not to say so. The remark seemed unnecessary. “Very well.” She offered an affirmative nod.

The man glanced down at the chart in his hands. “What is your name?”

“I am Haruki Misora.”

“Your age?”

“I am thirteen years old.”

The man grimaced slightly at that, but continued. “Are you attending school?”

“I am.”

“And where do you go?”

“Nanasaka Junior High.”

“What is your year, class, and attendance number?”

“Year 1, class 4, attendance number 24.”

“What is today’s date?”

“I do not know.” She thought for a moment, then added, “I recall going to sleep on March 15th, so I would presume it is March 16th.”

“What year is it?”

“20-”

The questions continued as such for some time. Eventually, the man shook his head. “I would like you to calm down and listen carefully.”

“I do not know how to calm down.” Haruki didn’t remember ever getting upset, so she wasn’t sure how she would do the opposite.

The doctor scratched his head with his right index finger, and his face distorted. There were no tears to indicate crying, and he wasn’t laughing to indicate happiness. As such, Haruki was unable to comprehend what emotion he was feeling. “Then I suppose you can stay like that. Haruki Misora-san… You have lost the last two years and seven months of your memories.” He gave her the correct year and date.

“Understood,” Haruki responded. It was the 24th of October. Now she knew.

The man’s face distorted again. Then, he slowly and carefully explained what had happened to Haruki Misora.

Haruki had lost her memories starting from the 16th of March two years prior. She had never woken up from the previous night’s sleep. Her mother called her name, yelled in her ears, and shook her shoulders, but she never responded. Haruki Misora was taken to the hospital by ambulance, but not a single test could ever show what was wrong with her.

Then, on the third day, she regained consciousness, and after a litany of tests, was discharged on the sixth day after her coma. Despite that, she experienced frequent spells of weakness, and was prone to fainting. Nothing could be diagnosed, but she was clearly experiencing consistent physical decline.

She took a leave of absence just before moving on to her second year of middle school to focus on treatment. She was also provided with psychiatric care, as it was noted that she suffered from some mental trauma.

It was unclear if any of the provided treatment was effective or meaningfully helpful. Regardless, her health had somewhat stabilized recently, allowing her to recuperate at home.

That was the series of events taking place over the last two years and seven months. However, just 30 minutes prior, she had fainted once again at home, being rushed to the hospital.

“You experienced several lapses of memory in the past after fainting, but I’m sure it will all come back to you soon,” the doctor finished.

Haruki Misora nodded. Illness, leave of absence, memory loss. “Understood.” None of it really mattered all that much.

Haruki Misora did not realize that everything the doctor told her came from false memories.

Nobody could have possibly imagined that every single resident of Sakurada would have had their memories rewritten just as the rain started to fall.

Only a single boy understood and comprehended it. But Haruki had forgotten that boy, right alongside everything else.

As such, her only thought was, What could I have had that was worth remembering, anyway?

Haruki Misora did not know what she had lost.

End of Chapter 4