"What are you talking about…"
Facing the short-haired gray girl before her, fierce and utterly unlike the image in her mind, Sakiko, already feeling guilty, suddenly found herself at a loss for words.
She had believed she could stay calm no matter how drastically someone's personality might change, yet the expression Tomori wore now made her instinctively feel guilty. Perhaps it was because she still carried guilt over what had happened with CRYCHIC, or perhaps simply because she had planned to confess to Haru before anyone else could.
Whatever the reason, words began to fail her.
"Sakiko, why aren't you saying anything?"
At first, Tomori's voice held only a faint chill, but now, watching Sakiko shrink back with guilty hesitation, an inexplicable wave of suspicion and displeasure surged within her.
Yet confronted with this aggressive questioning, Sakiko only grew more tongue-tied.
"I… I just…"
How should she answer?
The reason she had asked to speak to Haru alone was to confess, but was she supposed to do it now, in front of everyone? Even in a one-on-one conversation earlier, she had hesitated endlessly, much less now, with Tomori standing right there.
The weight of guilt and unease pressed deep into her heart, and her trembling lips betrayed her extreme fear.
"I just… was talking to Haru about some band matters…"
She couldn't do it, she couldn't bring herself to say the truth.
"A band?"
The girls nearby all looked stunned, and even Haru's eyes widened in disbelief. He had never imagined that Sakiko, who had been so unwilling to reveal anything about the band before, would suddenly bring it up herself.
After a brief explanation, the members of MyGO finally understood what was going on.
But the relief Sakiko had hoped for never came. Tomori's expression, at first surprised, grew cold, her beautiful eyes, so much like Sakiko's own, widening as she spoke with chilling clarity.
"So you dragged Haru off to form your own band, and you made sure he didn't tell us, is that it?"
"No… it's not like that! I was just waiting for the right time to—"
"Stop making excuses!"
Her gray-haired figure trembling with anger, Tomori clenched her fists and stepped forward, but Haru quickly grabbed her hand.
"Tomori, calm down!"
"Haru, let me go! I have to make this clear with Sakiko!"
Still held by the left hand, Tomori glared at Sakiko. Seeing this, Shiina Taki hurried over, her face full of concern, to help restrain her. The sudden flare of anger made Sakiko stumble back a few steps in fright.
She gripped her left arm tightly with her right hand, lowering her head in timid confusion before the scolding.
Tomori, her rage boiling over, felt heat surging through her veins. As Haru held her back, she spoke in a cold, biting tone. "Sakiko, do you remember how badly Taki was hurt that time because of you? And now you've already forgotten?"
"You abandoned CRYCHIC… and now even MyGO isn't good enough for you?"
Sakiko's eyes widened, her pupils trembling as she stared back.
Even Haru hadn't expected Tomori to be this furious.
He quickly turned toward Soyo, who, startled out of her daze, immediately hurried to Tomori's side, speaking with the gentlest, most soothing voice she could muster.
"Sakiko, why don't you go home for today?"
"I'll take care of this. If you have anything to say, I'll listen later."
Haru's urgent voice reached Sakiko's ears, snapping her out of the haze of fear clouding her thoughts.
Already burdened with guilt and unease, the moment she heard this, her will to stay evaporated.
"I'm sorry…"
Her voice barely above a whisper, Sakiko apologized to Tomori, then turned and fled the recording studio.
Tomori seemed ready to say more, but then a sudden warmth touched the top of her head, calming her at once.
She glanced at Haru with a faint trace of guilt in her eyes.
"…Sorry, I got a little carried away."
Haru could only sigh helplessly before answering gently.
"It's fine. I know you were just thinking about all of us."
"Don't worry about Sakiko. I'll talk to her properly later."
Standing nearby, Soyo understood that Tomori's feelings were the most complicated now. If this hadn't involved Haru, Tomori might not have been so angry at Sakiko. The naturally gentle Soyo lowered her head in self-reproach.
It was her fault after all. If only she had tried harder…
She swallowed her discouragement and forced a smile, offering a cup of mocha coffee. Wisps of steam drifted up, carrying the rich aroma of roasted beans, and Tomori's expression softened slightly in response.
"Tomori, drink up. It's still nice and warm."
Tomori stood in silence, murmured her thanks, and drained the cup in one go.
Meanwhile…
Having fled RiNG, Sakiko wandered the streets in a daze. Tomori's angry voice still rang in her ears, and her face had gone pale. She pressed her hands to her ears instinctively.
But blocking out the noise of the street only made the ringing in her head clearer.
Inside, she repeated "I'm sorry" over and over. Her guilt toward CRYCHIC had never been heavier.
She suddenly remembered the day she had seen Soyo walking alone, looking utterly broken and hopeless. Now, she thought she might finally understand what Soyo had felt then, this crushing sensation of being abandoned by the whole world.
She didn't need a mirror to know it.
Her face now must look absolutely terrible.
"Vice-manager, it's almost closing time, you know?"
The sudden voice pulled her back to reality. When she looked around, the scene and the space around her had changed. A familiar blonde girl stood beside her, smiling brightly.
The grief and disappointment welling up inside nearly choked her voice.
So this is it… I've failed again, haven't I?
"…It's fine."
It was only a rewind. She should have been used to it by now.
Without expression, Sakiko took a black notebook from her bag, and with automatic precision, she began to write in it with a ballpoint pen.
Next time. Next time, she would not make the same mistake.
"V-Vice manager?!"
Just when she thought her heart had calmed again, Sakiko slowly raised her head. She found the familiar blonde shop assistant looking at her in surprise, her expression filled with shock, confusion, and a touch of disbelief.
That strange look froze the expression on Sakiko's face.
Why was she being looked at like that?
Plip…
A sudden dampness touched the back of her hand. Only then did Sakiko realize that a warm sensation had been running down her face.
Her fading eyes widened in shock, and she instinctively reached up to touch her cheek. The mist welling in her vision overflowed, spilling out as hot tears.
She stared in disbelief, eyes wide, finally recognizing what was happening to her.
At some point, the ink on her notebook had been soaked and smeared, and her most treasured drawing was now wrinkled from the moisture. Her trembling fingertips reached out to brush the image, trying to draw some comfort from it.
But her shaking hand slipped, and she accidentally tore a small rip into the picture.
The tearing of the paper felt as if it had ripped her heart open, sending a wave of pain and suffocating pressure through her.
She… was crying?
Panic rising within her, Sakiko's eyes widened further. She hurriedly tried to wipe the tears away from the corners of her eyes.
Why was she crying? Why had the tears come so suddenly?
Ever since that day, she had decided that Sakiko would never cry again.
No matter what happened to her, she would always keep her composure and strength. She would never again let a single tear fall. That was how it was supposed to be. That was how it had to be.
But now, the hard shell she had built was shattered, and the soft, unguarded heart beneath was laid bare.
…
"Vice manager, it's almost closing time, you know?"
Was this the fortieth time?
The seventy-fifth?
Or the ninetieth?
Even with her exceptional memory, Sakiko could no longer keep count. Once so certain of her own "strength," she now felt like a fragile, pitiful doll, endlessly repeating the same mistakes. The notebook she had used to write down her observations no longer even came to mind.
She could not remember how many times she had failed, but she remembered each event she had gone through in those failures.
For instance, she remembered that her last "failure" had come at the hands of someone she had never expected.
"Mutsu…"
The one who had utterly crushed her courage was her childhood friend and other half in spirit, Wakaba Mutsumi.
She had grown numb after countless failures, but being broken by Mutsumi herself had brought the despair flooding back.
Her entire body was now filled not with determination or stubbornness, but with a faint bitterness, coupled with a near-numb emptiness.
Since the "thirty-first time," she had become distracted, carrying out what seemed to be the most cautious plans in a weak and timid way.
Sakiko, who had once gathered all her courage, no longer dared to take that one step forward.
Naturally, this led her to keep failing, keep starting over, and keep falling into this so-called "cycle." Now, after yet another failure in an uncounted number of loops, she was so hollow and self-conscious that she could not even bring herself to step outside the store.
"…Either way, I'll just fail again."
"After all, I'm so weak, and I've done so many things that hurt everyone."
Too tired to move, Sakiko muttered to herself. She could see clearly now that she had no right to stand beside Haru.
Through countless failures, she had learned one thing that in this "dream," everyone else seemed to be alive, truly alive.
Without her knowing, each of them had fallen in love with Haru, and their resolve in that love was far stronger than hers. Unlike her, who only thought about being with him without truly considering his feelings, they were thinking of him wholeheartedly.
They were the ones who held real love for Haru.
They were completely different from someone like her.
"V-Vice manager? Are you okay?!"
Sakiko's dim eyes stared straight ahead, but she could not bring herself to answer the voice beside her that filled her with dread.
She simply walked into the Rabbit House staff break room, locked the door, and curled up in the corner with her head in her arms.
Exhaustion and despair filled every corner of her being. Even her once-warm blood seemed to have gone cold, and her trembling soul began to fade into a haze.
…
[Simulation End]
At his desk, the black-haired boy pressed his knuckles to his forehead. Even without looking in a mirror, Haru knew his eyes were bloodshot. Every fragment of memory from each simulation poured into his mind, and the helplessness brought by failure after failure was hard to shake off.
Unable to make any choices within the simulation, Haru felt as though he were bound to the audience seats, forced to watch each run end in failure again and again. Naturally, it was not a pleasant feeling.
But Haru did not complain. He only let out a long breath.
"This should be the hundredth simulation… or maybe the hundred and first?"
Since he could not make "choices," his only option was to try changing his way of thinking in reality to increase the probability of stepping onto Sakiko's route. This had worked somewhat in the beginning.
But after thirty-something simulations, it had completely lost its effect.
Haru vaguely remembered that his "influence" had, on a few occasions, brought the simulation to the brink of success.
But just when they were about to cross the finish line, Sakiko had suddenly turned around and run away.
"I used to think that 'running away' at Anon's level was already an unbreakable ceiling."
"Didn't expect there was always someone higher, someone stronger."
Haru let out a weary sigh. The dull ache running through his nerves left him both mentally and physically drained.
The teacher he had once thought would be the easiest to win over had now become the hardest.
Even if these were not full, hands-on simulations, experiencing so many "memory fragments" was no joke. Of the one hundred and fourteen revival chances he had started with, only a little over ten remained.
…
Haru silently rubbed his temples, trying to steady himself.
Endless failed simulations still came with the simulator's consolation prizes, but those rewards tied closely to the target were limited. After dozens of attempts, most of what he received now were just "gifts."
"…Though I have picked up a bunch of weird skills because of it. Wilderness survival, basic first aid… I can even operate a steamroller now."
"At this rate, maybe a few more tries and I'll be able to pilot a fighter jet?"
He couldn't help but let out a self-deprecating laugh before turning his attention back to the simulator panel.
It was now five thirty in the morning—
In fact, Haru and Sakiko shared one thing in common: an extraordinary stubbornness toward a goal. Even after running over a hundred simulations, trying every possible approach and still failing in the end, he still wanted to use every remaining attempt.
What happened afterward, he would think about only once he failed.
If he were the kind of person to give up so easily on "winning over" someone he liked, then he probably didn't have the right to shoulder everyone's future.
"As long as I keep moving forward, the road will extend."
Taking a deep breath, Haru adjusted his mindset once again, focusing seriously on the simulator panel. The notebook lying open on the desk was already crammed with dense writing, but his right hand still gripped the pen firmly.
"Restart."
[Simulation Start]
[When you woke up this morning, you seemed to have made up your mind about something. Even if you weren't sure exactly why, you knew that even for the sake of an uncertain future, you had to always be ready.]
[This determination filled you with energy, and artistic inspiration began to surge within you.]
[Not wanting to waste this sudden burst of creativity, you decided to take the day off and work at home on the painting you planned to submit to an exhibition.]
[But accidents have a way of appearing without warning. Just as you were laying down the base colors on the blank sheet, your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a phone call. The caller ID showed the number of the café's landline.]
[So, you decide... ]
[1. It's probably just some routine store matter. Since you are in the middle of a rare and precious wave of inspiration, you choose to ignore it and remain the hands-off owner.]
[2. Even though this burst of inspiration is rare, you believe the café's business should take priority.]
Two options suddenly popped up on the panel, making Haru's pupils contract slightly as he sat in place.
"Options? Why now, of all times?"