Main Story – Prologue: The Reality’s End

That day.

This reality, which began with a letter in my shoe locker.

This reality, which I wish I could have avoided.

…Perhaps, I’m sure.

It was so much fun, dazzling above all else, and perfectly fulfilling.

And—.

A world where everyone could keep smiling.

That kind of ideal fiction…

I will rewrite it into non-fiction reality.

◆

“Wh-Why are you here…?”

Nagasaka-kun stared at me, his face blank with confusion.

Leaving a bewildered Sachi-senpai to deal with the election results, I had come to the rooftop. I bit my lip, thinking how everything had gone exactly as I’d predicted.

I knew it… This is how it would turn out.

The reality of the situation I was seeing again made me feel sick to my stomach.

I couldn’t forgive myself for being the one who had to bring this all about.

…No, that’s not right. It’s no use.

Wallowing in self-pity won’t help me achieve my goal.

Since I decided that taking advantage of this situation was the best option, I have no right to complain now.

Otherwise, I’d have nothing to say to the people whose smiles I’ve taken away, and those whose smiles I have yet to take.

And so—I froze my heart.

I would confront the root of all this evil.

“Numbers are so easy to understand, aren’t they? They show you reality for what it is.”

“Eh…”

“You, of all people, should know that best, Nagasaka-kun.”

Nagasaka-kun’s eyes shot wide open.

Numbers—in other words, objective data.

I had found out from Sachi-senpai that Nagasaka-kun was exceptionally good at handling that kind of information.

And with that, I finally understood the sense of unease I’d always felt from him—.

I understood what it was that made him so far from ordinary.

—The Nagasaka-kun I knew had always made the best possible choices.

Take small things, like when he was chatting with someone. He would casually bring up a topic he knew they’d be interested in and steer the conversation so they would feel good.

For me, it was novels; for Tokiwa-kun, sports. For Torisawa-kun, it would be something stimulating and challenging. And of course, he would fine-tune his tone and the way he spoke for each person.

He did that with everyone in our class—no, even more than that. He did it with such a wide range of people, it felt like he could probably do it with our entire grade.

There were other times, too. When someone was unsure of themselves, he would see right through to their secret wish for how things could be and either show them the path to making it a reality or rally others to help.

The most prominent example was Ayumi’s trouble. Nagasaka-kun saw through to Ayumi’s true nature, something not even her closest friend, Hibiki-chan, had seen, and presented the perfect solution.

And he made our class, which had been so fractured, accept that optimal “answer.”

To flawlessly and reliably select only the best possible solution and execute it.

Anyone who can do that… is definitely not normal.

But I couldn’t figure out why Nagasaka-kun wasn’t normal.

He wasn’t the type to be perceptive of the subtleties of the human heart like Tokiwa-kun, nor was he quick-witted like Ayano or Torisawa-kun. I thought that, at his core, he was a simple and earnest person, much like Ayumi.

That’s why I’d always found it so strange that he could do those things, and it was why I could never predict his actions.

I had to solve that mystery first, or I wouldn’t know how to deal with him. And so, I threw myself into gathering information, watching him closely to see what he was thinking and how he would act, and secretly contacting people connected to him to ask what he was like.

—And then, before the election.

I heard his evaluation from Sachi-senpai, who for some reason had started interacting with him, even having him help with her work.

At the same time, I recalled hearing that his specialty was research, and in a flash of intuition, I understood.

Nagasaka-kun… he was skillfully using information he’d gathered beforehand to get a jump on the best possible choices.

If that was the case, all of his unnaturally optimized actions finally made sense.

Still, it’s a case of “easier said than done.” I wasn’t sure if something like that was truly possible… but if you dug deep enough, if you spent enough time and specialized only in that, then maybe it was.

In any case, I concluded that data was the weapon that made him extraordinary, the source of his strength.

—And so, I decided…

I would make Nagasaka-kun understand reality… by deliberately feeding him the very information he relied on.

“—Those numbers are your proof. Most of the students at this school—the ‘normal’ ones—were completely turned off by this whole charade.”

“Charade…?”

Nagasaka-kun, whose eyes had been darting around restlessly, froze.

“From what I heard, it was things like, ‘It’s cringey how worked up they are,’ ‘I wish they’d leave us out of it,’ ‘Seems like a pain whether they win or not,’ and ‘The whole thing was boring from start to finish’—”

“…”

“‘They’ve read too much manga.’”

At those words, Nagasaka-kun clenched his fists tightly.

I didn’t miss his reaction.

So that’s it. That’s the ideal world you’re trying to create, the one that makes you so different.

I grit my teeth internally, then continued with forced composure.

“Shiosaki-senpai’s passionate performance didn’t just fail to connect; it backfired. Everyone lost interest the second they heard it.”

“…”

“And Sachi-senpai’s online Q&A session, too. At first, everyone seemed to enjoy it for the novelty, but once they thought about it calmly, they apparently realized, ‘She’s just trying to score points.’”

“…!”

“What’s more, there were even people calling her a total basket case or an attention seeker. People who have nothing to do with Sachi-senpai and don’t know a thing about her. And there’s more—”

“K-Kiyosato-san!”

Nagasaka-kun’s voice cut through mine, as if he couldn’t take any more.

He immediately looked startled, his mouth moving wordlessly.

“Ah, Kiyosato-san, is… um…”

Hmm…?

“Why… all of a sudden, are you talking about what everyone thinks…?”

His question was vague, not quite getting to the point. He was probably so confused that his thoughts couldn’t keep up.

Still, I could guess what he wanted to know.

“I wanted you to see what would become of what you and the others are trying to do. That’s why I came here to tell you.”

“What will become… of us…?”

“That’s right. From the very beginning, I knew this election would turn out strange.”

“—?!”

That’s not to say I did anything special to get this result.

Like manipulating public opinion to vote no confidence, or controlling people’s actions to cast blank ballots… I couldn’t have done something like that even if I’d tried.

I just gave a little push, to draw everyone’s attention to Sachi-senpai and Shiosaki-senpai—to the people trying to do something that isn’t normal. All I did was make the reaction of the “normal people,” which was bound to happen sooner or later, easier to see.

…Yes.

I simply knew it would turn out this way.

“You see, when ‘normal people’ feel like they’re about to be dragged into something that isn’t normal—no, when there’s an abnormal person nearby, they absolutely cannot accept it.”

“…”

“It has nothing to do with whether what you’re trying to do is right or wrong. They just see anyone who deviates from their common sense as ‘weird’ and reject them, wanting nothing to do with them.”

“…”

“In the end, you’re left with a conclusion like this, one where nobody can smile. And it doesn’t just affect the people involved; it drags in everyone around them, too.”

“…Nobody… can smile…” Nagasaka-kun muttered, as if in a daze.

I nodded silently and took a step forward.

—And so.

In this reality.

The one who started doing something abnormal, dragging in all the “normal people” was—.

“Nagasaka-kun.”

It’s you.

“And people like us.”

“The kind of damn fool who tries to make an impossible ideal a reality—our very existence makes everyone unhappy.”

—And my former self.

Nagasaka-kun’s eyes flew wide open, and he staggered a step back.

“People… like us…?”

He started to speak, then clenched his jaw as if to hold the words back.

“No… sorry, I’m… I’m leaving for today.”

He turned hastily and began to walk away.

I immediately added another volley of words.

“Are you thinking you need to investigate this properly first? That you need to gather solid information and then decide what to do? …With Ayano, right?”

“Wha—?!”

“I don’t think you need to. I was planning on giving you all the information you need to make a decision from the start.”

Brushing away the hair that fluttered against my cheek, I glanced around.

—The student council is in chaos due to the irregular election results. The teachers are tied up in meetings about whether to accept this outcome and have no time to worry about anything else. It shouldn’t be a problem even if the rooftop key is returned a little late.

And I’ve made sure that Ayano, who would have been the biggest obstacle, is properly held up.

I let out a soft “huff” and leaned my back against the wall of the rooftop storage shed.

The sky above was completely covered in thick, gray clouds. It wasn’t raining, but the blue sky was nowhere in sight.

“…I’m going to tell you now… how I knew this would happen.”

—And so, I began my story.

About my past self, the abnormal one.

About what I aimed for, and where I ended up.

“It was when I was in middle school—”

—The conclusion to that ideal reality.