"I'm planning my own death."
"I hate things that can't be predicted yet are bound to arrive sooner or later—like when a teacher announces a surprise test ahead of time. It does nothing but make you restless."
"So if that's the case, I might as well take control of the rhythm that leads me to the end of my life myself."
In this life, his place was a damp, cramped little room even smaller than a student apartment. The landlord had originally intended it as a storage room, so the ventilation and lighting were atrocious.
When his whole body felt weak and his consciousness began to blur, he lay there in the tiny room littered with empty beer bottles, inexplicably missing the real-world apartment he used to rent—small as a sparrow, yet fully furnished in every way.
"Smoking and heavy drinking aren't good habits… using your life to prove that point feels a bit like using a cannon to swat a mosquito."
But there was no helping it. Because of this world's "settings" for him, he found that a cigarette after meals and several bottles every night were like code etched into his DNA—he simply couldn't stop.
Likewise, all sorts of ailments that came hand in hand with smoking and drinking arrived right on schedule, slowly crushing his body. Add to that staying up all night and eating irregularly—things that had long become routine for him—and it was no wonder.
So this must be what the system meant by the "hidden setting that accelerates the process." It was different from what had been promised at the start of the simulation.
His mind racing nonstop and his thoughts tangled, Narumi forced himself to sit up. Pushing aside the scattered bottles and clothes tossed everywhere, he placed his fingers on the bass strings.
Thankfully, no matter how bad his habits got, the sound of the bass was always enough to calm his irritation.
He suddenly found himself understanding Yukinoshita Yukino a little better—when you're seriously ill, it's hard not to think pessimistically when facing troublesome problems.
"Ah… it's been a while since I heard that name."
Even though it hadn't felt like long since the second simulation began, hearing it now made it seem as if ages had passed.
There was no way she could associate that laid-back, odd yet sharp-witted novelist, Narumi Tōru, with the current version of him—the self-destructive, awkward, sharp-tongued third-rate bassist also named Narumi Tōru.
He really wanted to see the expression she'd make if she saw him playing the bass.
For the sake of that curiosity alone, it would be better to end this simulation early and return to reality.
After finishing his relaxed playing, Narumi lit a cigarette and picked up a pen from the hopelessly cluttered desk.
Then, fighting off the dizzy, spinning sensation in his head, he began to write in his notebook.
[Using the reward skills obtained in the first simulation during the second simulation? I truly didn't expect such a sudden inspiration from you.]
"What, that doesn't break any rules, does it?"
Narumi, who usually only responded to the system in his head, let out a weak smile. As he wrote, he took a drag from his cigarette and muttered softly.
[There are no rules against it, so it can't be called a violation… though it certainly is quite inventive.]
"Well, it can't be helped. If a third-rate bassist can't make any progress musically, then maybe opening up a new lane will give him some kind of edge—cough, cough!!"
After the uncontrollable coughing fit came a sharp discomfort radiating from his lungs.
Even so, Narumi didn't stop. Pressing a hand against his chest, he refocused on his writing.
[You've maintained this schedule and lifestyle without rest for two days straight now. Do you really want to end this simulation that badly?]
"Yeah, you're not wrong. No matter how you look at it, the me in this world is a tragic nobody. Playing a role like this for too long might mess with my own mindset."
Even as pain and discomfort surged through his nerves like waves, Narumi spoke in a voice so calm it was almost frightening—as if the one suffering weren't himself at all.
"How to make a small character's ending more dramatic… that's what I need to pour my energy into right now."
[Are you planning your death?]
"Yeah. Didn't I say that from the start?"
The curly-haired boy smiled, stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette in an ashtray already overflowing with butts, then lit another and dove back into his writing.
[To use even your own life as a resource to achieve your goal—viewed from a certain angle, your rationality is rather terrifying.]
"Because it's just a simulation… I'm actually pretty attached to living, you know. Did that scare you? How about popping an achievement for 'scaring the system'?"
[Achievement unlocked: Cold-Blooded Strategist / Using one's own life as part of the objective is indeed quite unconventional.]
It really did pop up.
Narumi smiled, said nothing more, and continued writing a story known to no one.
When the book reached its final page, that would also be the moment this life of his came to an end.
———
Later that same day, around the time the sunset was fading and night was about to blanket the land.
Gotō Hitori followed the address given by the shop owner and arrived at Narumi's place, but she hesitated outside his door for nearly half an hour, unable to press the doorbell.
It was her first time coming to Narumi's home. Though Nijika and Ikuyo had offered to come with her, Bocchi ultimately decided it would be better to visit alone.
Because this time, she intended to follow the Ijichi sisters' advice and explain everything related to Narumi to him—clearly and honestly.
"Go for it… Gotō Hitori…!"
Being brave for once, she cleared her throat and cheered herself on in her heart.
"N-Na… Narumi-kun, are you home?"
Summoning her courage, she knocked lightly, but even after waiting a long time, she heard no footsteps coming to open the door.
Lowering her head, Bocchi checked the light seeping through the crack under the door. Only after confirming someone was inside did she finally let out a breath.
"I-If you don't want to open the door, or you're just too lazy to… I understand. I can talk from out here."
Honestly, that might even reduce her sense of awkwardness.
There was no response from inside, but she faintly saw the light under the door flicker—someone was definitely there.
"Thank you… for being willing to be friends with me when we were kids."
The pink-haired girl lowered her head, clutching the hem of her clothes tightly, trying not to let her voice become too faint.
"I-I really wanted to form a band with you, Narumi-kun. That's something that's never changed since I was little. Talking about the music we both loved with you made me so happy. I even thought about whether we could ever get along like we used to again, and just thinking about that made me really happy."
"Because when we talked about music together, you understood every point I made. Even though you always dragged me into doing things I didn't like… when we separated, I still thought maybe I'd never find someone I clicked with that well again. But even so…"
'Even so, that's still not a reason for him to treat you so harshly, Bocchi-chan.'
As Bocchi hesitated over whether to continue, Nijika's earnest advice echoed in her mind.
'No matter how much he says one thing and means another, or feels you owe him something, that's not a reason to hurt you with such rough behavior.'
'Kindness you never feel might as well not exist.'
"…Ugh."
Unwilling to accept it, Gotō Hitori drooped her head like an abandoned pet.
"I still don't understand what I did wrong to make you hate me so much… If it's because I forgot our promise and that's why you treat me so coldly, I can understand that. But e-even so…"
She gripped her opposite elbow. She had already spoken far more than her daily limit—but Bocchi clenched her teeth and kept going.
All the emotions Gotō Hitori had been piling up were already at their breaking point.
"Even I… have things I don't like."
She finally managed to say it.
"I know I-I don't have the right to ask for so much, and I'm actually used to being ignored on purpose or by accident. Even if you don't like me, I can understand that—as long as you d-don't use violence, I can stay out of your sight on my own. But you, Narumi-kun… even though you're different from those people, you always manage to do things that are even worse…"
Saying "I just want to talk to you," while knowingly continuing to do things that troubled Gotō Hitori.
If it had just been playful teasing, maybe she could have endured it—but he had relentlessly belittled her through the guitar she cherished more than anything.
'That's not tsundere behavior, Bocchi. Trouble expressing emotions has nothing to do with being cute—especially when he keeps hurting you,'
Ijichi Seika had sighed as she reminded her.
'Someone who truly cares about you would never take pleasure in hurting you. I know you might still be clinging to the past, thinking he's still the same—but people change. It's not uncommon for a kind, understanding kid to grow into a troublesome teen who can't stand seeing others do well.'
"I hate being treated like that… e-especially by you, Narumi-kun."
She said it at last.
"Everyone around me—Ijichi-senpai, the shop owner—keeps telling me not to let you bully me like this anymore… but I still thought maybe there was a reason you were doing such awful things, something you just couldn't tell me. Because it was you… that's why I thought that."
If she'd never been firmly chosen, never been warmed by someone else, Gotō Hitori would probably still be curled up in a dark corner, hugging herself like a hedgehog.
But that boy had once pulled her out of unnoticed darkness, grabbed her hand, and ran with her toward a brighter place.
He was her first friend—dragging her out of her comfort zone on his own, talking about the things they both loved on his own, leaving on his own—
And in the end, he'd also turned into someone she didn't recognize, lashing out at her with cruel words.
That indescribable sense of frustration and disparity was something she'd never been willing to accept.
"Saying nothing and still expecting others to understand… I-I hate, hate that version of you…!"
As she poured out these intense emotions, Gotō Hitori still carried a faint sliver of hope.
"Am I supposed to just keep accepting all your awful behavior? I never asked you to do anything for me. Even if you thought you were pushing me to try harder and leave my comfort zone… I'm still really, really unhappy! How can you live comfortably if you don't stay in your comfort zone…?!"
Perhaps the boy behind the door would come out after hearing her heartfelt words, open the door, argue back, and explain his past actions.
But she held her breath and waited for a long time—and there was still no movement from inside.
"..."
Disappointment and regret crashed against her wavering heart like waves against rocks.
So this was Narumi's answer.
If she'd known it would turn out like this, she wouldn't have come.
"From now on… p-please don't talk to me anymore."
Without her friends' encouragement, Gotō Hitori could never have said something this firm on her own.
"This kind of 'kindness' of yours… let someone else deal with it."
As she said those words, tears streamed down her face.
"Tomorrow is the day we promised to perform together… This time, I absolutely won't break that promise. But after the p-performance ends, we…"
Biting down hard, she forced herself to say the rest.
"We'll have nothing to do with each other anymore."
"Goodbye, Narumi-kun."
As if saying those words had drained every last bit of strength from her body, the pink-haired girl dragged her already exhausted self away from the boy's door.
From start to finish, he never came out to speak with her—and that only made her feel colder inside.
Gotō Hitori had never been good at dealing with people. Even when conflicts arose, she would retreat into her shell at the first opportunity, avoiding confrontation. That was how she'd learned to always endure.
But after meeting the members of Kessoku Band, she gradually realized that sometimes, honestly expressing what's in your heart is necessary.
If you don't say it, no one will understand. If you don't explain it clearly, misunderstandings are bound to happen.
He couldn't possibly not understand that.
Charging into Gotō Hitori's comfort zone like a ferocious tiger, recklessly driving her out… yet at other times, like an inscrutable cat, occasionally showing her the same gentle side he'd had in childhood.
Which side was the real Narumi Tōru? Gotō Hitori realized she couldn't tell at all.
And now, she didn't really want to try anymore.
Ending this relationship—which had been unclear from the start and never guaranteed a happy outcome—might be a relief for everyone.
Since the boy was no longer the one from her memories who treated her gently, clinging to the present reality felt forced.
Gotō Hitori was very good at retreating—and in this case, that suited her just fine.
Just before leaving the street, she turned back for one last look.
The boy's door remained tightly shut.