Chapter 5 – I Still Can’t Say Goodbye

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“I love communicating,” Souma Sumire said, her low voice resonating with slight huskiness. It was August 31st, and Asai Kei sat next to her at a bus stop in the rain.

She continued as if whispering to the rain itself, “I want to exchange all kinds of words with all kinds of people, from the greatest of blessings to the smallest of formalities.”

Kei had no clue what Souma was going on about, but something about her drew him in. Maybe it was her fingers, relaxed and naturally bent, or her neck, tilted to look at his face. She had created a space that was comforting.

Kei spoke softly so as not to disturb the space. “What if you had to convey something sad?”

Souma smiled. Her smile was like an air bubble rising to the top of the water, only to burst. It was natural, it was inevitable, and it was somewhat sad. “I would devise a strategy. If I had to tell them no matter what, then I would use the right method, with the right words, and convey it to them in the right way.”

Her smile made her look more dazzling than ever as Kei gazed down at her. Water cascaded from the roof of the bus stop, splashing into the puddles below.

“But telling them would still make them sad,” Kei remarked. Nobody liked to be sad.

“You’re right. But that’s much better than not telling them. Besides, there would be no need to convey the message if it was purely meant to cause sadness.”

But what needed to be conveyed? What was he supposed to say to someone who was caught in sadness? He would have much preferred to bury such emotions away. He would rather dig a great hole, so deep that nobody would ever rediscover what he had put there.

But Souma Sumire added, “You don’t have to be afraid. I know that you could do it.”

The rain continued to fall.

Not long after, she died.

1

It was as though the last remains of summer were clinging onto his uniform, refusing to let go.

Asai Kei climbed the stairs of the southern school building, halting right before the door to the roof as if stopped by some force. He just couldn’t bring himself to open the door.

It was after school on Wednesday, September 15th. He had no reason to be there. He couldn’t come up with a single good excuse. But there he was, alone on the rooftop landing.

He sat down on the stairs, his back to the door. He put his palms down on the cold tile, tapping with his fingertips. Tap, tap, tap, in a rhythm that suggested irritation at someone being late to meet him. Kei did in fact feel irritated, or something close to it. After all, the other party never made it. No matter how long he waited, she never showed up. Each tap echoed off the white walls, disappearing before anyone else could hear it.

It had been just about two weeks since the second semester of his second year in middle school had started. The same length of time since Souma Sumire had died.

She wasn’t on the rooftop any more.

A few minor changes had taken place in Kei’s life over the past weeks. He no longer spent free time during or after school on the southern school rooftop. He would go up the stairs nearly every day, but never ended up going through the door.

Plus, with Souma gone, he lacked any pretense to go looking for Haruki Misora.

Being together had started to feel like second nature.

Of course, they had never had that kind of relationship to begin with.

Kei and Haruki had only spent so much time together during the first semester because of Souma. It just so happened that every meeting with Souma meant spending that time with Haruki. It didn’t go any deeper than that.

Kei looked upwards and was met with the dirty ceiling. If he went outside, that view would be replaced by the blue sky. Not that he imagined staring at the sky alone would be of any more value.

The last time he had seen Haruki was about a week ago. They had both been called to the staff room, where they were heavily encouraged to join their school’s Service Club. Kei wasn’t at all surprised by the event. He and Haruki’s abilities were incredibly powerful when combined, after all. If anything, the invitation was coming late to the party. Besides, he wasn’t at all against the proposition. Joining the club would give Kei the perfect alibi to naturally gather information on more abilities, and he wanted as much info as he could get his hands on.

Kei and Haruki had both decided to join the Service Club on the spot. They stood together as they signed the admission form, left the staff room together, then parted ways at the school gate.

That was the last Kei had seen of Haruki. And he knew exactly why. He was avoiding her.

He still wasn’t sure that he could act strong enough in front of her. Every time he saw her, Souma’s death became real all over again. He did everything in his power to prevent her from seeing his weakness. To prevent her from seeing him so sad.

But now it’s been two whole weeks. Something had to change. There was a certain comfort in keeping his face downcast and his sighs long, but he couldn’t keep going like that forever.

He knew that it would be okay. Since his ability prevented him from ever forgetting, things would work out. After all, no matter how many fake smiles he made, no matter how genuine those fake smiles became over time, he would never forget the gaping pain that he felt from within. So it would be okay. He could be assured in that, and press forward.

With perfect timing, an opportunity for change was presented to him. It took the form of his first Service Club task.

It was a simple task. A boy had hurt a close female friend by using an ability. The boy didn’t understand the scope of his ability, so really it was more of an accident than anything else.

In short, Haruki would reset, and the incident would be erased. Kei would inform the club advisor about the incident before it could ever happen, and the Administration Bureau would handle all the details. Simple as that.

Kei went through the entire briefing, but Haruki never showed up. He assumed that her homeroom ran long, and decided to leave on his own. He was sure that before long, she would get the briefing on her end and then reset.

I should meet up with her after the reset.

He didn’t have any concrete plans, but at the very least it was worth informing her that she had used a reset for the Service Club. It was the perfect excuse to get together with her. They would have just solved some random boy and girl’s problem, so they could have a leisurely, enjoyable conversation together. He could start small. Maybe they could eventually get around to talking about Souma. Maybe they could do it on the southern school rooftop, or anywhere else, really, as long as they could look up at the sky.

They had spent the whole summer getting closer to each other, so it was only expected that they would be sad. But now, something new could spring forth.

Kei pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. He had purchased one just after joining the Service Club to make it easier to get ahold of Haruki. His phone told him that it was 4:15 PM, long past time for Haruki’s homeroom to be over.

Kei rested his chin on his knees, holding his cell phone in one hand. He stared at the cat strap on his new cell phone. It was a black cat with white around the mouth and paws. Its age showed. It was made of a soft material that would indent when pressed before slowly swelling back up over time. Kei poked the cat with his fingers as he waited for a reset.

But no matter how long he waited, the reset never came. His cell phone display ticked ever forward, the numbers only increasing.

There were so few people around that Kei had become attentive to even the smallest of sounds. Thus, at 4:35, he heard footsteps approaching him.

Haruki Misora was walking up the stairs.

Haruki Misora’s first words were, “I cannot utilize my reset.”

Her expression seemed largely the same as what Kei had always seen before. She was quiet and emotionless, her countenance remaining eerily unchanged. Rather than appearing like an artist’s painting, it was more like her face was structured or elaborately designed by an engineer.

Kei slipped his phone into his pocket, asking, “As in, you didn’t make a save?”

A reset was impossible without having made a save in advance. On top of that, any save would expire in exactly three days. Which was to say if Haruki hadn’t created a save in the last 72 hours, resetting would be impossible.

But she shook her head. “No. I saved two days ago at around five PM.”

“Then what do you mean you can’t reset?”

“I do not know. All I can say is that I do not feel that I can use my ability.”

What the heck was that supposed to mean? Kei was sure that he had known all the rules regarding resets, but obviously he had overlooked something. Then again, what if it wasn’t about the rules, but instead some other external factor?

Kei pointed to the stairs next to him. “Well, how about you just sit down for now?”

Haruki tilted her head. “Would it be better for me to sit?”

“Not necessarily. You can do what you want.”

Haruki stared directly at his face for a while with an entirely calm and unmoving gaze. But eventually, she nodded, taking a seat beside him on the steps.

Kei followed her with his eyes as she moved. Her short hair bobbed just above her shoulders. Suddenly, her clear, jewel-like eyes stared into his.

Their eyes had met. Kei felt slightly embarrassed, but he doubted Haruki would mind either way. So he continued intently staring into her eyes.

In a surprise twist, Haruki looked away. Her gaze shifted slightly downward, and her expressionless face seemed to convey a sort of sadness. I hope I’m reading that wrong, Kei thought. Such a blank expression made it hard to accurately read her feelings. Her face from a month ago had spoken volumes in comparison. He could have known without a doubt if she were feeling sadness or pain. She had even shown him a smile.

When Souma Sumire died, Haruki Misora cried. Since that day, Haruki’s expressions seemed to have fallen away.

Kei recalled something that Souma had told him. Haruki is changing. She will come to know all sorts of new emotions. She’ll learn from you. Maybe she was more right than he had known. Kei realized that Haruki was mirroring his emotions. She was sad when he was sad, and emotionless when he was emotionless.

Kei forced a smile. It was incredibly fake. It wouldn’t be enough to make Haruki smile. But he smiled nonetheless, asking, “Were you really able to save two days ago?”

He could only handle one thing at a time. For the moment, Haruki’s reset was front and center. If her reset didn’t work, their Service Club work couldn’t be done.

Haruki nodded. “Yes. I am quite certain I was.”

“What makes you so sure?” Not that her saving would have any real effect on the situation at hand.

“I experienced no particular struggle in saving, but I felt immediately that I could not reset.”

“So you can save, but not reset.”

“Yes.”

“What’s even the difference?”

Haruki looked down for a long time.

A trumpet was playing from the school building beside them. No doubt the brass band was practicing. Kei recognized the song, but didn’t know the name. It was a kind of sentimental song with an easily recognizable melody.

Haruki’s gaze moved upwards. Their eyes met for a second time as she said, “You instructed me to save.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You told me that I must save at least once every three days.”

Naturally, Kei remembered the conversation in question. It had taken place some two and a half months ago, and during it Kei had in fact instructed her to do just that.

The sound of the trumpet petered away, blanketing the stairway in silence. It was as though God himself silenced all other sounds so that Haruki Misora’s voice could be made clear.

“Kei. Please instruct me to reset. I feel that if you tell me to, I will be capable of resetting.”

When did she start calling me by only my first name? For the longest time, she had only ever called him Asai Kei, his full name.

Something about that caught his interest, but he didn’t spend the time to trace back through his exact memories.