On the morning of the second day of the weekend, I was sitting on a bench a short distance from the shopping mall, before it opened.
I was currently waiting for the person I'd promised to go shopping with today.
Originally, I had planned to go alone, but since I happened to have plans in the same place as this person, we ended up going together.
—What I needed to buy was, of course, the tools for making kusamochi and sakura mochi.
Bowls, pots, plastic wrap—things like that.
For the record, the yomogi powder and domyoji powder were already arranged.
The day I decided to try making kusamochi, I'd scouted the mall but couldn't find them, so I had them ordered.
I planned to pick them up around noon today.
Until then, I'd just kill time accompanying my companion, so the day's schedule was perfect.
"That said, the idea of me, of all people, going shopping with someone..."
If the people who created me saw this, they'd probably be deeply disappointed.
The long-cherished wish of humanity, wisdom, hope—titles carrying that kind of reverence... Ultimate Hope.
Unlike Makoto Naegi, who was called hope that triumphed over despair, I was an artificial hope born from ego.
The other day, Arisu Sakayanagi called me a true genius—but that's both right and wrong.
My existence defies reason.
...What even qualifies as "true" in the first place?
For example, someone who excels at one thing to the point no one else can follow is called a person with innate talent.
Someone who can do everything above average is called a person with versatile talents.
There are other examples too.
Sakayanagi probably called me a true genius based on her own theory.
Someone who possesses both of the examples I just gave.
In other words, someone who can do everything to the point no one else can follow.
Yes, that might be a true genius.
Because it's as close to perfect as possible.
If that were honed through natural education, it would be an undisputed genius—a true one, without question.
But I am different.
Whether it was to create a perfect human or to forge some imitation of a god.
In any case, I was pushed outside the framework of humanity by a grotesque ego.
It would be more accurate to call me a monster existing beyond the bounds.
And the fate of such a monster is to be worshipped blindly by despairing humans with clichéd words like "god," or to become a convenient tool for the vermin.
Somewhat self-deprecatingly, I reconfirmed my own existence, even now.
"Hey."
A voice reached my ears, interrupting my thoughts.
Mechanically, I turned only my gaze toward the source.
There stood a girl whose sharp, predatory eyes completely undermined the neat, refined impression of her casual clothes.
"Good morning, Ibuki-san."
The person I was waiting for was my classmate, Ibuki-san.
Yesterday, she'd contacted me asking for help with shopping.
Apparently she needed a guy's strength, and I'd been chosen.
Going out with the opposite sex on a day off—essentially a date.
My heart would dance with excitement, unable to contain the joy.
What clothes should I wear? What approach should I take? What route should we take through the mall?
—If I could think like that, I wouldn't be a monster.
Since I was going shopping anyway, there was no reason to refuse, so I agreed.
Just walking beside someone—that was all.
"Come on, let's go. Get up already."
"Yes. Let's make it quick."
I stood from the bench, brushing the dust off my clothes.
"...That outfit looks so hot even I'm sweating just looking at it. Totally wrong for the season."
A plain white dress shirt, black jacket, skinny pants, and sneakers.
It was exactly the same color scheme as the Reserve Course uniform I'd worn before, just made lighter for casual wear.
Her comment was the predictable criticism I'd expected, so I didn't mind.
"Clothes just need to be wearable."
"You seriously don't care about being attractive to anyone?"
"No interest."
Hearing my reply, Ibuki-san put a hand on her hip and sighed.
"Hey, want me to pick something out for you?"
"Unnecessary. I possess talents in design and coordination as well."
At that, I felt her suspicious gaze.
"Liar."
"It's true."
"This time you're definitely lying! If you had that kind of talent, you'd have good fashion sense even without trying!"
Her usually sullen expression cracked as she raised her voice in protest.
But it was momentary—she seemed to remember where we were and quickly returned to her normal face.
Still, she was undeniably right.
I'd worn this color scheme for so long that I'd assembled my wardrobe without much thought.
If anything, attachment. I hadn't consciously chosen an image color, but living in a world of despair might have left me with some lingering sensibility.
"Hey..."
"No need to pick clothes for me."
Ibuki-san turned away as she spoke, but when I cut in, her faintly flushed cheeks twitched.
"You're rough around the edges, but your heart isn't the same, is it?"
Despite her tomboyish personality, she clearly put effort into her appearance.
Light makeup, and a different scent from usual—perfume.
For someone like her to let another person—especially a guy—choose her clothes would take considerable courage.
Pointless. I couldn't possibly harbor romantic feelings. I'd wasted time thinking about it last night.
"Y-you really have zero tact!!"
"I possess every talent related to communication."
"Liar!! I'm a girl too—pay a little attention to that kind of thing!!"
"You think I'd take interest in someone else's casual clothes, let alone compliment them?"
A sharp crack seemed to echo as multiple veins bulged on Ibuki-san's forehead.
But she quickly sighed and showed a slightly disappointed expression.
"...I feel stupid for putting in even a little effort."
She muttered it quietly. No need to provoke her further, so I let it slide.
"Let's go."
"Hmph."
—With Ibuki-san in a bad mood, we entered the shopping mall and began shopping...
...
About two hours had passed since entering the mall.
I'd been dragged around, made to carry things, and walked endlessly for her shopping, but it wasn't that boring, so I forgave her.
Clothing stores, electronics, daily goods, and the grocery section.
Amid the various bags, the yomogi powder and domyoji powder were already collected.
"...Heavy."
Ibuki-san grumbled as she walked home at her own pace.
But her mood was considerably better than when we'd started.
It seemed this shopping trip had satisfied her.
"You're planning to make wagashi with this stuff?"
She eyed the small tools I'd bought—sugar, anko, and the like—and guessed correctly.
"Yes, this time—"
I briefly summarized my kusamochi-making plan.
"Huh, hey—can I come too? I've never made sweets before, but I'd like to try."
"I don't mind. But aren't you going to the movies after this?"
"Yeah, it's fine. I was planning to go alone anyway."
"Not with Shiina-san?"
"I basically go to movies alone. Before graduation, I want to see every film shown on campus. Going with someone wastes time and is annoying."
I had no intention of commenting on others' hobbies, but it felt uncharacteristic of her.
Yet it was also very Ibuki-san—acting like a lone wolf.
"You said 'conquer them all,' but surely some films aren't to your taste?"
Watching something you dislike isn't just a waste of money—it's a waste of time.
Since she's passionate enough to want to see them all, she can probably handle any genre, but it still feels somewhat wasteful.
For me, movies aren't for enjoyment, so I can't help thinking this way.
"Even flops can be fun in their own way, and there are unexpected gems. Sometimes your perspective changes a little. For example, I never watch anime and had a vague aversion to it, but the romance animation I saw recently was genuinely good—it chipped away at that prejudice."
"A romance movie alone... really unexpected."
"How do you want to die?"
Setting aside her murder threat, I was actually impressed.
That mindset requires the willingness to challenge what you dislike.
It's obvious, but surprisingly difficult.
Depending on the degree, humans naturally want distance from things they dislike—it's unavoidable.
But deciding to overcome it means challenging yourself.
Voluntarily seeking the truth—gaining experience.
With accumulated experience comes true confidence, and your mindset changes.
The first step from becoming a boring person.
"Zero tact."
As I admired her, she started sighing.
"You think it's better to be considerate, smile to avoid making others uncomfortable?"
"...Imagining it gives me chills. Absolutely don't."
"Do you know what tact is?"
"Shut up."
Leaving Ibuki-san pierced by her own boomerang words, I slowly scanned the surroundings.
Time had passed, and the mall was getting quite lively.
Groups of same-sex friends, larger mixed-gender groups, couples—various clusters caught my eye.
But among them, a short distance away, I spotted a group with a tense atmosphere.
"It's definitely getting crowded. Let's get out of here."
"I'd like to, but it seems we can't just yet."
At my words, Ibuki-san shifted her gaze in the direction I was looking.
Right after, a shrill, piercing scream echoed through the mall.
"You bumped into me first! Don't get cocky just because you're from Class B!"
Everyone's attention focused on the source.
I recognized one of the girls at the center.
"That's Manabe and... someone from Class B."
The one hysterically shouting was Shiho Manabe from Class C; the other seemed to be from Class B.
Manabe Shiho is the typical boring type—weak toward the strong, strong toward the weak.
As usual, she was acting with her weaker followers.
"Why over something so trivial... oh, right."
Ibuki-san seemed to grasp the real situation.
On the surface, it looked like a simple argument, but the truth was different.
They were ordered by Ryuuen behind the scenes to harass Class B.
He was currently using classmates to test how far the school would respond.
We'd simply stumbled onto the scene.
The pawns had diligently worked even on their day off to create this situation.
Pointless.
This was a public facility. Escalating further could affect points.
He should have ordered them to consider that.
No—from his perspective, anyone caught over something like that would just be disposable.
"Yes, stop!"
Suddenly, a voice intervened between the arguing students, so I turned my attention there.
A girl with light peach-colored hair flowing energetically, radiating vitality, had stepped between them.
"Ichinose-san!"
The victimized girl's expression brightened with relief and trust.
It was easy to see how highly regarded Honami Ichinose was.
"Chihiro-chan, this is a public place. You can't raise your voice like that. ...Manabe-san too."
"Ichinose-san..."
"Is this another of Ryuuen-kun's 'orders'?"
"...Ryuuen? What are you talking about?"
Things were moving fast.
Ichinose had seized control of the conversation and was pressing forward.
Manabe Shiho, now at a disadvantage, could only bite her lip in frustration.
Apparently, Ichinose appearing here was unexpected.
Her attitude spoke louder than words.
If they kept arguing, evidence might surface.
Which could lead to point deductions.
"Aren't you stopping it?"
Ibuki-san's simple question.
She'd realized points could drop if this continued.
But I had no intention of intervening.
This mistake was his fault in giving orders. I wouldn't help with every little thing.
Besides, Manabe Shiho herself was boring.
I'd only stopped things in the library because it was his direct order—this time, there was no need for me to step in.
"...You're saying it's boring. Fine, I'm going to watch Manabe make a fool of herself. Hold these."
"Please keep it brief."
"Mm."
She nodded, handed me her bags, and walked off.
She valued class points.
That was likely her reason for helping someone she didn't get along with, like Manabe Shiho.
With time on my hands and the bags in the way, I looked for a place to sit.
Spotting a rest area a short distance away, I headed straight there.
I placed the bags on an empty spot and sat beside them.
With nothing else to do, I relaxed and kept an eye on Ibuki-san's situation.
Manabe and the others were partially blocked by Ibuki-san, so I couldn't see their expressions.
By now, as she'd declared, Manabe was probably making a pathetic display.
It was so boring that I ended up killing time thinking about boring people.
"Hey, got a minute?"
A voice came from the side.
No one else was around me, so it couldn't be a mistake.
I shifted my gaze to the owner of that high, feigned-catlike voice.
"What do you want?"
Standing before me was a girl with short blonde bobbed hair and a voluptuous figure.
Probably around 155 cm tall. Her light clothing suited the season perfectly.
And eyes filled with fear and disgust were fixed on me.
The contrast of her smile with those negative emotions sparked a faint interest.
"Um, there's something I 'want to ask'! Mind if I take a bit of your time?"
Her beaming smile was drawing stares even from unrelated passersby.
To people like them, her smile—the kind that indiscriminately enveloped everyone, a boring smile if I had to say it—made her seem like an angel bringing good fortune.
I gave her a slight nod of consent.
"Yeah, thanks!"
She lowered her hips to meet my seated eye level, clasped her hands to emphasize her chest, and leaned her face closer.
"You're Kamukura Izuru-kun from Class C, right?"
"Yes."
"My name is—"
A conversation with a girl wearing a false mask began.
...
A few minutes later, having quickly wrapped up the talk, I picked up the bags and headed toward Ibuki-san and the others.
We weren't far apart, so they'd noticed me too.
Ichinose-san turned this way, raising her left hand high and waving it enthusiastically side to side.
Manabe Shiho and her followers were nowhere in sight.
In other words, they'd been driven off. As declared, she'd kept it brief.
"You're late."
The moment Ibuki-san saw my face, her expression turned openly displeased.
"Long time no see! Kamukura-kun!"
Ichinose-san, who'd been beaming even before spotting me.
This was exactly where the difference in character showed.
"Long time no see. Well then..."
"Yes, stop! Let's chat a little! Okay?"
She responded to my curt attitude with a smile while swiftly blocking my escape route.
This being the second time, she didn't seem flustered like before.
"There's no point."
"Just a little—a really little bit is fine."
She pinched the air between thumb and forefinger to indicate time.
On the surface, it looked like nothing more than a cute girl making a plea, but the strong will in her eyes suggested there was something more.
I had a rough idea, but getting involved would be troublesome—I just wanted to head back quickly.
Plus, the stare from the victimized female student had been irritating me for a while.
"Hey, Ichinose-san. This guy is really..."
When I glanced at the victim, she immediately hid behind Ichinose-san and asked that.
"It's okay! He wouldn't do anything like that! Not everyone in Class C is harassing people—Ibuki-san was like that at first too, remember!"
"I-I know that! But he's 'that' Kamukura Izuru-kun, right? The only one Ryuuen-kun acknowledges as an equal..."
"...Well, that's probably true, but he's fine."
Ichinose-san looked at me with a mischievous smile.
The first time I'd experienced something like karma had felt fresh, but I'd grown tired of exchanges like this.
"You're still diving headfirst into trouble as always."
"Hahaha, but you did the same thing in the library! You can't talk!"
They're not the same at all.
Someone who stopped a conflict out of self-interest and someone who did it out of goodwill are entirely different.
The only commonality is the result of stopping the conflict.
The process—how responses differ based on personality—is what's truly worth observing.
Though she'd probably never listen even if I told her.
"Honestly, I never expected to run into you here~. Maybe today's my lucky day!"
"Running into an annoying person like you is an unlucky day."
"T-That's harsh... Ah! I get it~."
Her sad expression shifted to one of realization.
"You're on a 'date.' Of course you wouldn't want to be interrupted."
Saying that, Ichinose-san smiled apologetically.
If I showed any fluster here, it might reveal whether I had feelings or not—a rather pointless thought even for me.
I subtly checked Ibuki-san's expression behind me, without letting Ichinose-san notice.
As expected, her face hadn't changed at all.
"It's not a date. Kamukura and I aren't going out anyway. Don't get the wrong idea."
"More importantly, could you take these bags already?"
Ignoring Ichinose-san's completely off-base guess, I extended one hand toward Ibuki-san to return the luggage.
"You could look cool right now."
"I don't feel the need to raise my favorability with you."
Perhaps sensing it already, her response was quick.
She roughly snatched the bags from my hand.
Her expression at that moment screamed utter annoyance.
"Ehh!? You're seriously making a girl carry the bags!?"
The female student who'd been hiding behind Ichinose-san the whole time raised a shocked voice.
Apparently, our casual exchange had eased her guard.
"I was carrying them until now, but originally—"
"M-Making a girl carry bags is awful! Ichinose-san, this guy's no good after all! No wonder he's friends with Ryuuen-kun!"
"What exactly are you misunderstanding?"
Her face flushed as she shot me a contemptuous glare.
"Hahaha, it's probably a misunderstanding, Chihiro-chan."
"Ichinose-san is too nice! Guys are beasts who leer at women and order them to do this and that!"
An astonishingly discriminatory statement, but I sensed something twisted beneath it—something unlike ordinary people.
Most likely, she's homosexual.
Analyzing her behavior closely, she was the one gazing at Ichinose-san far more leeringly, so the probability was near certain.
In short, possessiveness. She wanted to be Ichinose-san's number one. To achieve that, she kept anyone who might like Ichinose-san—especially men—away.
That desire had probably slipped out as discriminatory words.
Boring.
The girl—who later introduced herself as Chihiro Shiranami—grabbed Ichinose-san's shoulders and shook her as if to bring her back to her senses.
The one being shaken showed no resistance, so her face was bobbing up and down at considerable speed.
"Th-That's unfair."
Ibuki-san's frustrated voice came from the side.
Glancing at her again, she had both hands on her own modest chest.
I looked back at Ichinose-san once more.
In real time, Shiranami was still shaking her.
With each bob of her face, her breasts moved in sync.
I see—her proportions were indeed blessed.
If this school allowed external contact and she had a bit more confidence, she could easily blossom into gravure idol talent.
Though that probably had nothing to do with Ibuki-san.
"Hey, you compared them, you beast."
"...Pointless."
"Don't dodge! You definitely compared!"
Saying that, perhaps to confirm the truth, she grabbed my collar and pulled my face closer.
But right after, her uncomposed movement froze as if her thoughts had stopped.
I was about to ask why she'd stopped, but before that, she timidly touched my chest.
...
—Ibuki-san collapsed from the knees.
...
"Phew. You calm now, Chihiro-chan?"
Things were getting noisy, so we'd moved a short distance from our previous spot.
"Yes, I'm sorry for losing my composure."
She said that, but her gaze toward me hadn't changed much.
In fact, similar stares had increased to two.
"I'd like to head back soon."
It was already past noon.
I wanted to start making the kusamochi as soon as possible, so I pressed Ichinose-san.
"...You really do hate me, don't you, Kamukura-kun?"
"I do find you troublesome."
Ichinose-san seemed unsure how to react to my answer.
As a good person, she's slow to adapt to direct insults. Unable to process it, she turned to Ibuki-san for help.
"...He didn't call you boring, so he probably doesn't hate you."
"I see—then that's good!"
Ibuki-san straightforwardly threw her a lifeline, and Ichinose-san showed a relieved expression; once the conversation ended, they both smiled faintly at each other.
"But he's right—it's about that time."
"Yeah, it's already lunchtime~!"
Hearing that, Ibuki-san seemed to remember the kusamochi and reacted with an obvious "Ah!"
"Hey, hey—we're about to grab lunch, want to join us?"
"...Sorry, it's a nice offer but I'll pass. If I eat lunch now, I won't have room for mochi."
"Mochi? ...Ah, those bags have ingredients! I get it~."
"Exactly. So we'll be heading off here."
With those words, we turned our backs on Ichinose-san and the others.
"Wait a second, Kamukura-kun, Ibuki-san. Can I ask one serious thing before you go?"
The atmosphere shifted. Ibuki-san sensed it instinctively and turned back with her usual sharp-eyed expression.
We waited for her next words.
"There's something I 'want to ask.' Mind answering?"
"If it's within reason."
Hearing that, Ichinose-san smiled brightly and asked us.
"Hey—is Ryuuen-kun the one pulling the strings behind that violence incident?"
The violence incident. The harassment he ordered to gauge the school's response.
She really was someone not to underestimate.
It was truly a waste that she clashed so badly with Ryuuen-kun.
"...Who knows? It was Ishizaki's own fault, wasn't it?"
"I agree."
Deceiving her again left a slight bad taste, but it couldn't be helped.
No matter how boring, I couldn't unconditionally sell out the class.
"...I see."
"Conversation over?"
"Yeah... I guess so. I had more I wanted to ask, but I can't keep stealing any more of your time."
With an "Ahaha," she made a smile mixed with slight resignation and sadness.
"Sorry for taking your time! Good luck with your mochi-making date!!"
Quickly returning to her usual bright expression—as if to hide any lingering feelings—she added a light joke before leaving with Shiranami.
...
"Hey—do you think there are people who are impossibly good?"
It's understandable she'd feel that way after seeing her behavior.
She was as close to an ideal as possible.
Someone who selflessly serves others without compensation—yet unable to recognize their own contradictions—is merely a fool.
She doesn't forgive evil, the opposite of good. Evil harms unrelated others, so it's fine to punish it.
Ichinose-san doesn't hold such arbitrary emotional views, but she's not the impossibly good person Ibuki-san described either.
She's a 'hypocrite.'
But not an ordinary one. One who touches both good and evil, agonizes over which is right, yet ultimately chooses the path for the greatest happiness of the greatest number.
An impossibly good person—a "true" good person—absolutely does not exist.
It's merely an aspiration.
Roughly speaking, let's think along dialectical lines here.
Take good-natured people as the thesis, bad-natured as the antithesis, and sublate them.
A synthesis emerges. And we name it.
The vermin clinging to ideals do.
That is a good person.
It's neither a coward who believes staying neutral between good and evil is correct, nor an indecisive relativist easily swayed by others.
Someone who reaches out for another's sake, bestowing smiles and hope on countless strangers.
Yet that existence has no emotion.
No contradictions, no dreams, no will.
It simply does the bare minimum required of a good person. Nothing more.
That is the nonexistent "true" good person. An existence infinitely close to the ideal.
If a "true" good person were to appear—it would surely be an existence like mine.
"You shouldn't think about things that don't suit you."
"...Nor should you."
Unusually, our opinions aligned, and we looked at each other.
"Shall we head back?"
"Yeah."
We made our way straight to the dorms.
***
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