Book 5: Chapter 10 |
Daiya Oomine 09/11 FRI 8:57 PM
“You and I have something in common,” says the Maria Otonashi on the screen.
A question slips from my mouth. “What is this?”
After yet another teleport, I am being shown the third movie alongside Yanagi. She’s sitting behind me to the right, and beside me is a shell of Maria Otonashi. That means she is the lead in Repeat, Reset, Reset, the film for this round.
This seems suspect to me, though. Why would it be Otonashi? I can’t recall anything significant between us. We didn’t have a close relationship like I did with Rino or Haruaki. If we’re screening my transgressions here, does that imply I did something to her without knowing it? This is meant to bring me pain; Otonashi isn’t really in a position to do that, is she?
Or so I thought.
However, my expectations are betrayed.
What’s appearing on the screen now are things I could never have foreseen.
These are interactions between Otonashi and me in the Rejecting Classroom that I have no recollection of. The two of us are putting our heads together on how to get out of it.
It’s an odd thing to see. What’s more, my expression toward Otonashi isn’t hostile, or even the one I have to make normally.
It’s almost affectionate.
“What’s with that meek look on my face?”
…Wait, maybe it isn’t so hard to understand.
I glance at Otonashi’s face on the screen.
She’s already formed her aloof aura. You might think she couldn’t help but appear that way to the rest of us because she’d been retaining her memories of that world, but that’s not it.
The others may not be able to tell the difference, but I can see it.
I can see that Otonashi is straining to create herself.
Once I saw through that back then, the me from that time felt an affinity for how she was suppressing herself for the sake of some goal, just like I was.
“Help me.”
Maybe that’s why, on the 1,536th March 2, I said something so ridiculous.
…Geez, past Daiya. I don’t know when you’re from, but get it together. What kind of torture is this, just showing me embarrassing stuff? Has the design of the Silver Screen of Broken Wishes been altered so it puts the screws to me by humiliating me instead?
Why do I have memories of the previous time to begin with? I briefly wonder, but the answer comes soon enough. I don’t. Unlike Kazu, I can’t. But in much the same way my NPC was able to discern the goals of the actual me, if I heard what had happened previously in the Rejecting Classroom from Otonashi, I could gain a very accurate grasp of the previous cycles of the world.
In that sense, I might have qualified as a partner, if only barely.
“I don’t know what to do. What can I do for Kiri? Nothing. If I touch her, she goes pale. If I hug her, the memories of the past emerge, and she begins to cry. All I do is bring her suffering, no matter what I try. But she’s hopeless without me. She can’t do anything on her own. If I abandon her, I know she’ll commit a grave mistake. I’m wrong if I get too close and if I get too far. Hey, what should I do?”
What the hell am I blabbing to Otonashi about…? As if she could help, even if I did tell her. She’s as powerless as I am.
But the me from the past continues.
“I think maybe you can find it for me.”
The Daiya in the screen speaks fervently.
“A solution for what to do about Kiri, amid all these repetitions.”
There is no such thing!
If my warnings now could reach the me back then, I would shout until my voice was gone. The Daiya on the screen is sounding that stupid. He’s shockingly soft.
However, Otonashi’s response to that is incredibly irresponsible, too. I know the answer. The problem between Kiri and me has yet to be resolved as of the present, which means she never found a solution.
And yet, she says this.
“Sure. I’ll see what I can turn up.”
But in the following scene—the 1,539th March 2, three transfers later—Otonashi has this to say.
“I’ve discovered a way of resolving things.”
What the hell is she talking about? There isn’t such a thing… There was never meant to be.
“At the very least, I know the best course of action for you in regards to Kirino.”
“The best course of action… What would that be?”
Embarrassingly, the boy on the screen isn’t even hiding his excitement.
Dumb as I was, I probably hoped for something. I must have believed in the possibility that this method, one that I myself hadn’t found, existed.
Otonashi speaks to my past self.
“Don’t concern yourself with her anymore.”
It goes without saying that I was disappointed by her words. In fact, I was angry.
“Don’t be stupid. Who’s going to save her, then? Or do you mean to say she’s already recovered?”
“…No, Kirino’s wounds run deep. They’ll likely never heal.”
“Then why would you suggest I should leave her?!”
“Because no one can save her.”
“What did you say?”
“That is how deeply she’s been hurt. An arm doesn’t grow back once it’s been lost, right? You can’t get rid of those deep scars.”
“As if you know anything. Did you give up on everything because you wasted your time dragging your ass? If an arm is gone, you can at least attach a prosthetic one with surgery.”
“Maybe someone out there can do that. It may not be the same as before, but that would be a form of salvation. But, Oomine, that is more than you can do.”
“Why?! Who else besides me could?!”
“You know the answer to that.” Otonashi looks uncomfortable as she says, “Oomine, you’re keeping Kirino’s wounds from healing.”
The boy on screen goes quiet.
“Your presence makes Kirino want to go back to who she once was. Even if it would save her, she wouldn’t accept a prosthetic, because that’s not being whole again. Just being near you is enough to stop Kirino from moving forward.”
Yeah, I know that. Even stupid as I was back then, I thought the same in my heart of hearts.
“I know you understand. But… No, I guess I should say that it’s why you’re searching for a way to help Kirino. It is also true that distancing yourself from her won’t necessarily solve everything. Losing you, her greatest supporter, will likely present her with a new set of problems. But I’ve realized that this is still the optimal solution. In the end, all you can do for Kirino is leave her.”
“If I go away, she’ll suffer and mess up and probably even get hurt again. She may not be capable of extracting herself from that chain of negativity. You’re suggesting I just ditch her anyway?”
“Yes.”
“Are you messing with me?”
“Not at all. While your departure may not necessarily cause her harm, your presence absolutely does. That’s not all. If you don’t remove yourself, Kirino is not the only one who will suffer. If you don’t go, your own wounds will become more fatal than hers.”
“I don’t care about me!”
“Well, you should!”
I’m more than a little surprised by this display of emotion from the normally apathetic Otonashi.
“Are you—trying to become me?”
It’s a plaint of grief.
Only now, I understand what it means, too.
I am truly walking the path to ruin here. I’m sure the same goes for Otonashi. It makes sense, now that I think about it. There’s nothing aside from self-sacrifice in her actions so far. She lives for something other than herself.
She believes she’s the only one who needs to do it.
But there’s no reason the word of some mysterious girl who just transferred to our school today would convince me of that. Even if we did team up on previous cycles of March 2, the memories of our time together don’t exist.
Unlike Kazuki, it doesn’t seem real to me.
“If you aren’t going to lend me a hand, then I won’t cooperate anymore.”
“…Oomine.”
On the other hand, Maria has already interacted with me as a person for 1,539 days. Given her personality, spending that long together would lead her to grow attached to me.
That’s why she’s going to want to help me.
“If you truly want to heal Kirino’s wounds, there is only one option. I will do it. I will see it through to the end, for your sake as well.”
That’s why she says what comes next.
“I will perfect my Box.”
But I can’t accept that option, either, and we go our separate ways.
Even after such a definitive farewell, though, our partnership doesn’t dissolve there.
It’s like nothing at all, because Otonashi hides our parting on the 1,539th March 2. I don’t need to say that it essentially makes it seem like there never even was a good-bye. However, while that may be true for me, Otonashi isn’t quite shrewd enough to pretend she isn’t holding something in. The incident lingers, even if I don’t have any memory of it.
We no longer have a trusting relationship in the truest sense.
That brings us to March 2 number 1,542.
To our surprise, we finally hit upon Mogi.
But in the end, that’s as much as we can manage. There would be no further progress. The Rejecting Classroom is formed around the core of Mogi’s wish to “reach March 3 with no regrets,” and to enable this, part of the system causes the owner to be forgotten, even if they are identified. When the upcoming 1,543rd time arrives, I, and Otonashi, too, will naturally forget that Mogi is the culprit.
We’re able to pinpoint Mogi several times after that. Unfortunately, we’re never once able to get beyond that. Even if we do track her down, Otonashi is unable to do anything violent, so she can’t defeat the Box. What’s more, as I have no real sense of the loops, nothing’s driving me to do whatever it takes to escape from the Box. Though extreme measures may be the only means open to us, we never attempt to resolve the situation by harming Mogi.
We’re at an impasse. Honestly, the only one who has a chance of overcoming Mogi’s Box is Kazu.
That’s why our relationship comes to an end.
“This is good-bye.”
On the 1,635th March 2, after more than one hundred cycles as partners, Otonashi finally abandons me.
She gives the farewell in the classroom during the break after first period, and I scowl at the sudden and perplexing event.
Kazu is next to me.
“Daiya, do you know Otonashi?”
“No, not at all.”
I’m frowning, but not because such a longtime partner is suddenly telling me good-bye. Unless she tells me about the Rejecting Classroom, to me, Otonashi is just a stranger who transferred to my school today. Her farewell means less than nothing.
She looks unexpectedly hurt by my reaction. I’m sure she’s experienced the bewilderment of others plenty of times amid the cycles of this world, but she can’t keep it from getting to her.
…Why?
I don’t understand, but I put together a theory. Otonashi was immensely alone in this world, and then she met someone she could share the cycles with. For her, that moment would amount to her first release from solitude within the Rejecting Classroom.
But then she goes back to being alone again.
Alone forever, in a world that may very well last for all eternity.
If so…then of course. Otonashi is lonely.
It means she was still wet behind the ears on the 1,635th transfer.
She carries on, without explaining to me about the Box.
“You’re just going to forget what I say to you once the 1,635th time ends anyway, so telling you this may be worth nothing as a countermeasure. So what I’m about to tell you is just for my own sake. But I’m going to do it anyway.”
Ignoring the deepening frown on my face, Maria says her piece.
“Don’t use a Box.”
I have no memory of this warning now.
“You will attempt to have the Box grant a wish that is too big. You will chase ideals that are beyond your control. Just as I have.”
What does telling me these things mean to her?
Needless to say, the warning is worthless. I would forget all about it, as she predicted, and end up using a Box. She was talking only to herself.
Oh, that’s it.
She really is talking only to herself. Just speaking of her own fate. Distracting herself by venting vulnerabilities she can’t share with anyone into a world destined to vanish.
That’s how weak Otonashi is at this point in time.
“I know what results from asking a Box for such a wish. The outcome is—”
And that’s why she tells me what amounts to her own ultimate end.
“—ruin.”
This is a bitter admission, one that should reach my heart.
Inside the theater, I mutter, “…What? What the hell are you saying?”
But hearing this confession doesn’t suddenly bring my memories with Otonashi flooding back so that I can treat her kindly, or any other similar development.
There are no miracles.
We cannot make them happen.
The boy on the screen laughs coldly, put off by the crazy talk of a girl he’s just met. In the end, I ignore Otonashi and leave, taking Kazu with me.
Only Otonashi is left behind.
She stands where she is, while our other classmates whisper about what that could have been about just now.
Grinding her teeth, clenching her fists, Otonashi keeps talking to the empty air.
“But then what will I do if you learn of the Boxes anyway and obtain one? I won’t feel inspired to steal it from you. I may not stand against you, like I would against other owners.”
She won’t stand against me?
What is she saying? There’s no way—
“—”
No, wait. It’s true. As of the present, Otonashi hasn’t lifted a finger toward me since I returned to school with Crime, Punishment, and the Shadow of Crime.
Hey, what if…?
A certain possibility pops into my head.
Before, I thought the reason Otonashi hadn’t tried anything yet was because Kazu really had her fooled. Or maybe because she was onto him but purposely going along with his instructions. Either way, I figured Kazu was at the root of her inactivity.
If I’m to believe her, though, what if she was unsure of what to do about not just Kazu, but my Box as well?
“We will be partners again— No, we won’t. I won’t work with you. I don’t want to interfere with your affairs, either. I guess we’ll both just be moving in the same direction. We were never meant to be partners. Our original relationship—”
What she says next doesn’t carry any especially negative connotations, but Otonashi’s expression is taut with distaste.
“—was as kindred spirits.”
Yeah, I can see why Otonashi would make that face.
After all, this means I will fall into ruin, just like she has.
“……I feel sorry for Kazuki.”
A voice pulls my attention back from the movie to reality.
Its owner, Yuri Yanagi, was speaking quietly as she watched the film. What’s more, her brow is furrowed in disgust.
She feels sorry for Kazu? What’s up with that reaction? It’s like she caught Otonashi in the act of cheating or something.
…It’s not like I don’t know where she’s coming from, I guess. Otonashi wasn’t unfaithful or anything like that, but Yanagi probably felt there was something sacred in Otonashi and Kazu’s relationship. That’s why my cooperation with her in the Rejecting Classroom, and even my influence on her, seems like going behind Kazu’s back.
In my case, too, I considered the Rejecting Classroom to be only the source of the bond between Otonashi and Kazu. I didn’t think it held any other significance.
The reality is different. It’s obvious when I think about it. Kazu isn’t the only person Otonashi spent the equivalent of a lifetime with. Yeah, he was the only one to hold on to his memories and stay at her side, but she did end up in long-term contact with all our former classmates in Year 1, Class 6.
I, of course, was one of them. Without my memories, I couldn’t call her “Maria,” since she always introduced herself as “Aya Otonashi,” and I could never fully join her as a partner. But she stuck with me for a long time anyway, no matter how many times I forgot her.
Otonashi and I had our own story within that repeating world.
I reflect on what she said and mutter, “Ruin, huh?”
As a consummate realist, I already knew without her pointing it out to me. Using a Box will destroy me.
In knowing my own abilities, I’m simultaneously aware of my own limitations. I understand that no matter how I struggle, how carefully I scheme, my strength will eventually run out.
My understanding of those limitations, in turn, places limits on my Box.
And that makes me unable to use it to the fullest.
Damn… I knew that, so why am I already past the point of no return? I’m dragging so many people down with me, forcing them to play along with my ideals, and wrecking their lives? And worst of all, I’m even committing murder. Just throwing in the towel won’t be nearly enough at this point.
Why did I use a Box?
When did I get like this?
—Do you have a wish?
Oh, right. I was past hope the second I encountered O and learned of Boxes.
Once I learned about them, there was never any other option but to use one. I knew my wish would never be granted for all eternity, but I had no other choice. I had exhausted every option and failed to realize this wish; if a Box would grant me even the slightest possibility, I would reach for it. I would pay any price to make it happen.
The coercion was real. The compulsion was real. And the downfall was set in stone.
If O was aware of all those things before they gave me a Box— I decide to put a lid on those thoughts.
…That’s enough. That’s enough. That’s enough about all of that.
The movie is still going, and I decide to give it my attention.
“Oomine. If you fail—if you end up unable to make it back—I will help you. That’s why I exist. If you are beyond all help…,” Otonashi says within the now empty classroom on the screen, “…I will use the Misbegotten Happiness on you.”
“I acted as if none of this had happened.”
The voice is the same one from the movie—except it’s not in stereo, and it comes from somewhere other than the speakers.
“After all, for you, it basically didn’t. It’s a story that doesn’t mean anything even if I hold it close to my heart. That’s why I decided it never happened. My relationship with you isn’t the only instance of this. I decided lots of other incidents also never took place.”
A shadow appears on the screen. A person is standing in the way of the projector.
Blocking the view, as if to suggest that neither the Silver Screen of Broken Wishes nor the story of the movie matters.
“—”
My breath catches in my throat when I see that silhouette, and I hate to say it, but I’m powerless to do anything else. She looks no different from usual, and I’m so used to seeing her, but I’m still blown away.
Is it really possible to react so strongly to the mere appearance of one person? …Well, yes, since that’s what I’m doing. I forget how to breathe for a time. My eyes open wide, and for some reason, the corners of my mouth lift upward in a silly grin. My heart beats a wild rhythm, heavy sweat beads up on me, and my fingertips tremble.
Just her presence makes me feel faint. The air is beyond tense—more like sharp and pointed like a bladed weapon. That’s the level of pressure I feel just coming face-to-face with her.
When I see her, I don’t know why, but a name leaves my mouth, as if a hand reached into my throat and yanked the words out.
“Aya Otonashi.”
I whisper, and I understand.
Yes, that’s it. That’s the right name.
“It never happened, huh? Why didn’t I ever think of that?” “Aya Otonashi” muses. “Why did I never think to erase my history with Kazuki?”
She went by “Maria” until now due to the constraints placed on her by the one who couldn’t forget that name.
But Kazuki Hoshino has been cut away.
Kazuki Hoshino is now her enemy.
The name Aya Otonashi is appropriate, now that she’s released from the spell of the name Maria. It wouldn’t be right to call her Maria anymore.
She’s broken the unbreakable bond for her purpose, and she is no longer human. She lost that humanity the moment she proved she could do it. As one striving for the same things, I know that better than anyone.
This perfect, sculpted beauty is monstrous. This girl, who has completely killed off her past self, is my ideal personified. A being that exists to accomplish a single purpose.
It’s clear to me just beholding her now, and I let out a sigh.
There is no longer any trace of the zeroth Maria.
It would be impossible even for Kazu to bring back “Maria Otonashi.” If he can’t stop me, he can’t stop “Aya Otonashi.”
And I understand.
A glimmer of an idea occurs to me, seeing this girl whose humanity is long gone. Though the thought is proof that I cannot use a Box to the fullest, it still flashes into my mind.
That is to say—
—the true nature of O.