Kokoro Connect Volume 7: Yume Random E-Book

Sadanatsu Anda

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Kokoro Connect
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 351

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Kokoro Connect Volume 7: Yume Random

Leseprobe

—This will be the last time.

Chapter 1: The Dreaded Career Planning Surveys

I asked myself, what is my life’s purpose? And when I did... I came up empty-handed.

I imagine this question hit Yaegashi Taichi just as hard as it hit me, Inaba Himeko.

If we had never stopped to think about it, would we have carried on living in blissful ignorance forever? No... I don’t think we could have escaped it. We each would have been forced to come to terms with it sooner or later. And then we would’ve had to check in with each other about it.

Worst-case scenario, that’s the point at which it ends. I get that.

And I’m really, really, really scared... but the resolution to this confrontation will determine what path I take going forward.

So that’s just the way it’s gotta be.

+++

Summer break had come to an end for the second time since Yaegashi Taichi first enrolled at Yamaboshi High School, and the new fall semester had barely begun. That day in particular found Taichi on cleaning duty after school. Once he was finished, he headed across campus in the direction of Rec Hall Room 401.

The Culture Festival had come and gone, and now the school was shifting gears back to business as usual. The sunlight still beat down harshly, but if he stood in the shade with the breeze brushing past, he could almost convince himself it was autumn.

Just before he entered, on a whim, he paused to look up at the quaint, old-fashioned Rec Hall building in all its glory. It was a structure in desperate need of earthquake retrofitting, and at this point, some were of the opinion that it would be easier to simply build a new Rec Hall from the ground up. Personally, Taichi hoped the old building would hang in there until after he and the rest of his club graduated.

Nearly a full year had passed since the Cultural Research Club was forcibly dragged into a world of supernatural phenomena. Over that time, they had been subjected to countless crises, each of which they survived by working together. Most recently, their new recruits had gotten themselves caught up in yet another incident, but even then, it was nothing the seven of them couldn’t handle. So when would it end? Surely not even «Heartseed»’s bag of otherworldly tricks was bottomless... though admittedly it was starting to feel like it.

The second-years only had 18 months left until they would leave this campus for good.

As he walked up the stairs, Taichi pulled out a sheet of paper—the handout his class had received that very day. This handout was titled: CAREER PLANNING SURVEY. Below that was a form in which he was meant to detail his plans for the future—college or employment—and choose between the humanities or a science course for his third year.

For the second-years, this decision was of paramount importance. Yamaboshi boasted a relatively high grade point average, and as such, most of its students were college-bound. Some classes even featured separate coursework for humanities or science majors—and this binary choice would affect which homeroom class he was assigned to next year as well.

Taichi flapped the handout back and forth through the air. It struck him as kind of silly that a single sheet of paper could change his life so drastically. Granted, the submission deadline was still two-ish months away, but it couldn’t hurt to turn it in early... He knew he was definitely interested in college, but as for the rest...

As he contemplated his options, Taichi arrived at the fourth floor. He walked down the hall until he located the door with a sheet of A4-size printer paper taped to it bearing the words CULTURAL RESEARCH CLUB. Then he grasped the knob, twisted it, and opened the door.

The first thing he heard was a cheerful voice belonging to their very own Nagase Iori: “Shino-chan! Chee-hee! What do you guys wanna be when you grow up?!”

As he stepped inside, Nagase glanced over at the door and spotted him. “Sup, Taichi!” she called, offering him a playful salute, her long, silky hair swaying with the motion. She was a total goofball at heart, but with that flawless beauty of hers, she could make just about anything look cool.

The other six members of the CRC had already gathered here; with his arrival, they were all accounted for. The others greeted him in a similar fashion as he took his seat at the table.

“When I... grow up...?! Right... When I grow up... Me, all grown up... My future... My life... My afterlife...”

“Getting a little ahead of yourself there,” Taichi snarked under his breath.

“Oh, right! Uhh... When I grow up... I, uhh... well... umm... mmgghh... ggghhh...!”

“Just forget it, Shino-chan! Like, don’t have an aneurysm, okay?!”

“Nngh... Thank you, Yui-senpai!”

Enjouji Shino relinquished her grip on her poofy brown locks and lowered her hands, gazing at Kiriyama Yui with damp eyes. This was one of two first-years who joined the CRC as of earlier this year. Reminiscent of a small animal, she inspired a protective instinct in pretty much everyone around her.

“You’re still just a first-year. You don’t have to worry about it for a long time still,” Kiriyama Yui cooed, stroking Enjouji’s hair with a big grin on her face. Her own long, tawny locks were looking as radiant as ever this afternoon.

“Yuiiii! Pet me next! Meooow!” a certain blond-haired, lanky youth cut in. This was, of course, Aoki Yoshifumi.

“Ugh... I’m gonna barf... Aoki-senpai, you should honestly go to jail for that offensive cat impression...”

“Don’t worry, Shino-chan. I’ll handle him. Three kicks and four punches sound good to you?”

“Seriously, y’all?! I get that it wasn’t amazing, but was it really THAT bad?!”

For an outside observer, perhaps it would come as a surprise to learn that Kiriyama was a trained karate fighter, or that Enjouji knew how to drop a sick burn. But for Taichi, it was just another day.

“What did I do wrong?! I just wanted to join in the fun for once!” Aoki wailed to himself, clutching his head in exasperation.

“Did you really think today would be any different...?” Taichi muttered under his breath.

“Can’t fault a guy for trying!” Aoki shrugged, stretching his arms out widely.

“Whoa... You know, when you do that, you kinda look like Riki Choshu when the ring announcer—”

“You can keep your asinine pro wrestling analogies, thanks,” Inaba Himeko cut in.

“Whoa! Inaban actually stopped Taichi! Does this mean you’re finally back to normal?! Because I’m pretty sure Ina-bashful would let him get away with murder!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Iori. As Taichi’s soul mate, I’m always looking out for his best interests as my number one priority, no matter how—”

“Aaand there it is. Okay, Ina-bashful, you can keep your swooning.”

“HEY! That was my line! Don’t copy me!” Inaba snapped back at Nagase. Her remark may have been childish, but her looks were less cutesy and more sophisticated. At rest, she was captivatingly sexy, but with her emotions on full display and her shoulder-length dark hair ever so slightly out of place, it afforded her an alluring contrast... or was that just Taichi’s bias talking? She was his girlfriend, after all.

“Uh, Taichi-san? Why are you ogling Inaba-san like that?”

Busted. Caught off-guard by the sudden steely voice, Taichi turned to find Uwa Chihiro staring at him with an icy expression on his face. This was the CRC’s other new recruit, and as it happened, he and Enjouji were in the same class.

“I... I’m not ogling her! Well... I mean, she is adorable, but...”

“Now I’m going to barf,” Chihiro muttered dryly, and as he turned away, Taichi got a good look at the shorter side of his messy, asymmetrical haircut. Even at this angle, his facial features were pointed and sleek.

Earlier that year, Uwa Chihiro had succumbed to «Heartseed»’s temptation and taken control of a supernatural power that wasn’t his to wield. And despite having caught on to his deception early on, Enjouji Shino had chosen to do nothing.

But that was all over now, and in the end, the two of them both decided not to quit the club. Personally, Taichi and the rest of the second-years were fully prepared to let bygones be bygones, but nevertheless, the first-years still seemed to carry some residual guilt to this day.

Not that he blamed them, of course, after what they’d gone through. It would be beyond unreasonable to expect them to simply bounce back from that. Still, it was such a waste of heartache to keep agonizing over it months later. He hoped that over time, as the second-years continued to show them unconditional kindness, the first-years would eventually open back up to them.

“Anyway, we’re getting off-track! I wanted to talk about what Shino-chan and Chee-hee want to be when they grow up!” Nagase declared brightly.

“And why should we tell you?” Chihiro asked coldly.

“You’re the one who asked us if we turned in our career planning surveys!”

“That wasn’t me. That was Enjouji.”

“What?! B-But... judging from your voice, you sounded really curious about it...”

“You can tell just from his voice...?” Taichi muttered, though he knew she wasn’t listening. She had a thing for voices that, as of late, had turned into a bit more than just “a thing.”

“I mean, when we left the classroom earlier, you were saying—”

“HEY! Don’t bring that up, damn it!”

“Ooooh! Chihiro-kun’s blushing! How cuuuute!” Kiriyama teased, reaching up high to ruffle Uwa’s hair.

“Yui-san! Stop that! Nngh...!” Chihiro grimaced, but didn’t push her away. Compared to his early days in the club, he had chilled out considerably—whether this was a genuine change of heart or merely a symptom of his guilt, Taichi couldn’t say. The boy was still prickly, but he was notably less outwardly pessimistic. Naturally, this meant Kiriyama could mess with him to her heart’s content, and as a result she was in high spirits these days.

“Well, in my case... I’m mostly just hoping to get into a decent university. Then after I get my degree, I’d like to work for a good company. Something stable,” he offered after a moment.

“Wait, what? I thought your biggest dream was to be cool like our senpai.”

“Quit making shit up, Enjouji!”

“Awww, you want to be like us? That’s so sweet!”

“Yui-san, will you quit ruffling my hair?! Keep it up and I’m going to smack you!”

“So he says, and yet he never does! Classic tsundere! I guess someone’s gotta fill those shoes, now that Inaban went full deredere!”

Chihiro now had Enjouji and Kiriyama and Nagase to contend with.

“Y’know, Yui’s due to make the deredere switch any day now, so there’s actually a second tsundere slot openin’ up soon—”

“Thank you for your contribution, Aoki,” Kiriyama interrupted without looking at him. Her tone was perfectly cordial, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hey, uh, Taichi? Is it just me, or did I stop being ‘the guy people make fun of’ and instead now I’m ‘the guy everybody hates’?”

“Hah! Now you know what it’s like to have Chihiro steal your thunder. Remember that time Nagase was saying how he and I are both so calm and rational that it felt like we were ‘two of the same guy’? You have no idea how much that got to me.”

“Oh, did that actually upset you? I had no idea. Sorry, Taichi!” Nagase shrugged. “Seriously, don’t sweat the details. Either way, you’re still pretty [bleep]. Like, totally [bleep]. Your [bleep] is so [bleep], the rest of us are all like, ‘Holy [bleep]’!”

“Sheesh, that’s one hell of a throwback! But you can’t just bleep out all the important words and call it a compliment!”

“I... I think for now I’d just like to focus on keeping my grades up!” Enjouji cut in, steering the conversation back on track. “I’d like to be a bit above average, if possible... but I still want to work on myself too, of course!”

“How so?” Taichi inquired.

“Well, umm... To put it simply... I want to get to the point where I can make Taichi-senpai say ‘You’re so cute, Shino’ in that cool voice he does! Eeee!”

“I’m not sure what you mean by my ‘cool voice,’ but if you want me to say it, I don’t min—gaahhcckk!”

Inaba promptly lashed out at him with a throat thrust.

“Did Inaban just attack Taichi?! Is her Ina-bashful phase gone for good?!”

“You don’t really need those vocal cords if you’re just going to use them to flirt with other girls... Wouldn’t you agree?”

“What do you call this next phase?! Ina-bloodthirsty?!”

Inaba’s probably just playing along with Nagase, but still... I really, really hope she’s kidding...

“So, humanities or science? Who’s picking what?” Chihiro asked the older students.

“Oh, yes! Good question! I’d love to hear everyone’s awesome future ambitions!” Enjouji joined in, increasing the pressure tenfold for no apparent reason.

“Alright then,” Inaba replied. “Personally, I’ll be taking the science course. They say the humanities field has more job prospects, but as long as I get into a decent college and pick the right major, I’ll be set.”

“How very pragmatic. That’s our Inaba-san, alright.”

“Note to self... Get into a decent college and pick the right major...”

“Hmph! What’s the harm in being realistic? That said... I do have my own irrational reasons as well.”

“Like what?” Aoki asked curiously.

“I’m not confident I can do it, and I’m not exactly planning to put a ton of effort in, and I know it’s probably just a waste of time... but on the tiniest off chance that I get lucky, I want to expand my existing knowledge base—” she paused, and with a haughty smirk, declared: “—so I can solve the mystery of «Heartseed».”

“Whoa... I thought you gave up on that...” Kiriyama blinked.

“It’s only human nature to want to take a peek under the hood and find out how things tick, natural disasters included. Me, I hate not understanding things. But just to be clear, I’m not going to base my major around it. I doubt my affiliation with any one specific department will make a drastic difference.”

Evidently Inaba’s motto, “maintain total control of the situation at all times,” still applied to things that most people would simply accept as immutable. Not only that, but she was taking a rational, level-headed approach. All in all, it was an impressive stance from any angle.

Nagase clapped a hand to her forehead and sighed dramatically. “Jeez, Inaban, way to sound like a total badass! Now everyone else is gonna sound like a loser by comparison! I swear, you can be sooo inconsiderate!”

“L-Let’s hear it, Iori-senpai! What sort of... wonderful future do you have in mind for yourself...?”

“Gah! She’s merciless, this one! I’m starting to think she actually delights in our misery! Nngh... Or maybe not... Look at those innocent little puppy-dog eyes... Now I sound like a bitch for suspecting her...!” Nagase clutched at her chest and grimaced like a thespian onstage. “Fine, you win! Real talk, these days I’m actually starting to get a sense for what I want to do with the rest of my life.” She chuckled sheepishly. “And I don’t really need to pick one course or the other to get there, per se. There are entire departments dedicated to it.”

“The more you dance around it, the more I want to know the details,” Chihiro remarked.

“Well, too bad! It’s still a secret! But here’s a hint: it has to do with kids, most likely. Anyway, once I get all the particulars ironed out, I’ll be sure to tell everyone. Just sit tight for a bit!”

“I get the sense you’re not-so-subtly dodging the question,” Inaba commented.

“Dang it! I almost had you guys, too! You’re always the toughest hurdle, Inaban!”

Meanwhile, Taichi could scarcely believe it. All this time, Nagase had wandered through life, unsure of her desires, preferences, or ambitions... but now she had a tangible goal that she was actively working toward. He’d known she was in the process of overcoming her hangups, but he didn’t realize just how much progress she had made.

Their eyes met, and Nagase offered him a radiant smile reminiscent of a sunflower. For a moment, he thought he heard her voice: thank you. He nodded back quietly.

“Gosh, you guys! Am I the only one who still hasn’t decided?! Don’t leave me behind!” Kiriyama flailed her arms in a quasi-tantrum.

“What are you talking about? I thought you were gonna get a sports scholarship or whatever,” Nagase replied.

“I mean, maybe if I do well in the next tournament... I’m still conflicted, though. I might retire from karate after high school.”

“That’d be a ridiculous waste of talent,” Inaba mused. “Are you sure you want to throw it all away?”

“I don’t know if I’m that talented... but what I do know is that I want to spend my life making the world a better place. Not that karate isn’t useful in its own way, but like... there’s more to life than just being physically strong, you know?” Apparently her natural talent and her ambitions weren’t quite one and the same. “When I look at «Heartseed»—like, I know it’s an extreme example, but when I look at it, I can’t help but think about all the people in this world who suffer on a daily basis with no way to escape. I want to help those people, you know? ‘Cause in a way, that’s kind of like purging the world of evil, if you think about it. So maybe I should be a police officer or something?”

At first glance, her toothy grin might’ve come off as cute and nothing more... but upon closer inspection, Taichi could sense her physical and mental fortitude peeking out from within.

“A charming sentiment, but I find it funny how quickly you went from ‘purging evil’ to ‘cops,’” Inaba snarked.

“Rrgh... Look, I’m gonna figure it all out over time, okay?!”

“So what course will you take? Humanities, I guess?” Nagase asked.

“Mmm... I’ll keep thinking about it,” Kiriyama answered.

“You’re all so cool... I wonder if I’ll be this cool a year from now...” Enjouji murmured.

Beside her, Taichi felt a rush of anxious excitement. The three second-year girls were all wildly competent in their own right, and with their powers combined, he was sure they could accomplish damn near anything. This was, of course, a potentially terrifying concept.

“So, what about the boys? Starting wiiiith... Taichi!” Nagase whipped around and pointed her index finger in his direction.

“Well...” Taichi began. But the words didn’t come. His mouth hung open, idle. Silence.

“What’s the matter?” Kiriyama asked, puzzled.

He couldn’t respond. He couldn’t move.

“Uh, Taichi?” Inaba prompted.

Then, finally, he snapped back to his senses. Everyone was looking at him. His cheeks grew hot—was he turning red? He could feel himself start to sweat.

“I just, uh... haven’t had time to really think about it yet, so I’m actually kind of... completely undecided. But I’m gonna start thinking about it, you know, soon.”

“You don’t have to hide it, you know.”

“No, Chihiro-kun, you don’t understand. For someone at Taichi-senpai’s level, you have so many options available to you that it can be impossible to choose. He could be a voice actor, or a narrator, or an announcer, or my personal morning wake-up call...”

“There’s a lot I could say in response to that, but I’ll limit myself to just one thing: that last one isn’t even a profession.”

“Oh crap... Did I say that one aloud...?!”

“Get my damn boyfriend out of your fantasies, Shino. That said, I’m not against the idea of a morning wake-up call... for my ears only, of course...”

“No! Inaba-senpai, please! You’ve got to record it and let me listen to it! Just once!”

“It’s actually kind of impressive just how aggressive you get when it comes to voices,” Chihiro commented dryly.

And with that, the spotlight drifted away from Taichi. He heaved a sigh of relief—then found himself wondering why exactly he felt so relieved in the first place.

“Hmmm... Fine, whatever. What about you, Aoki?” Nagase asked.

“Well...” he began, then fell silent—not an intentional pause, by the looks of it. It wasn’t like Aoki to hesitate. “I think I might just start my own company! Live that CEO life! If I can’t go to college, then I might as well work, y’know?”

“You’re too stupid to get into college? That’s so sad... Surely there’s got to be at least one low-ranking university who’ll take pity on you? I mean, you made it into Yamaboshi, at least!”

“Don’t feel bad for me, Yui! My stupidity has nothing to do with it this time! Er, I mean... Y-Yeah, it’s because I’m stupid, that’s all!”

“What’s gotten into you? You’re acting like a dumbass,” Inaba snapped.

“No he isn’t,” Nagase replied, then turned to Aoki. “Look, um... Is this a ‘don’t pry’ sort of thing?”

For a brief, tense moment, they simply looked at each other.

“Maybe don’t... Ugh, forget it! Pry away! Not like it really matters!”

“Are you sure? I’m not holding you at gunpoint here. I was just checking.”

“Yeah, I know. I just decided I don’t mind telling you guys.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Taichi asked.

“I’ll explain it,” Aoki replied. “Seriously, it’s no big deal, but just so you’re all in the loop... it’s looking like my old man might lose his job. The company was already looking to lay off some folks, and now Dad’s been caught up in a scandal. He swears he didn’t do it, and the rest of the family believes him, but yeah.”

It was obvious from his tone that this was something serious.

“What’s he been accused of?” Kiriyama asked, looking extremely concerned.

“Mmm... I’d rather not get into it. Anyway, you don’t have to worry, Yui. We’ll be fine.”

“Oh... Okay. Sorry.” Kiriyama stared at the floor, seemingly unsure of how to respond.

“It’s fine. No sorry needed,” Aoki reassured her with a halfhearted smile. “If we need to, we could stay afloat on my sister’s income, but... when you add in the mortgage payments and everything... payin’ for college kinda just isn’t an option.”

“What about scholarships or student grants?” Taichi suggested as soon as the idea came to him.

“Well... Technically we could afford to pay tuition, but then my poor sister won’t be able to get her own place, y’know? And she’s already 24. Mind you, she’s been saying she’ll stay with us until I get my degree—she’s always been the super-responsible type—but I can’t do that to her. Not after she finally found someone she wants to start a new life with.”

“...I almost feel bad saying this, but... that’s actually a perfectly valid reason not to pursue higher education,” Inaba mused, her expression sympathetic.

“Guys, c’mon, quit acting like it’s my funeral! My family’s tryin’ ta figure something out for me, so I’m sure it’ll all work itself out eventually!”

Aoki donned a smile... but they’d known him for too long, and Taichi couldn’t pretend he didn’t see the pain lurking just beneath.

Sometimes real-world problems carried far more weight than the supernatural. After all, the supernatural was only temporary.

“I only knew about it because... I kinda overheard Aoki talking with his teacher about it,” Nagase confessed sheepishly.

Kiriyama looked up. “Um... If there’s anything we can do, please tell us, okay? I mean it! Anything!”

“Thanks. I might just have to take you up on that!” Aoki grinned.

For a moment, Kiriyama’s expression softened... but then it darkened all over again, and she hung her head. Then she muttered something in a tiny voice that no one else was likely to have heard—save for Taichi, who was right in front of her and thus was able to read her lips:

I wanted to tell him how I feel and lay this whole thing to rest... but I guess it’ll have to wait.

□■□■□

After club activities ended, Taichi and Inaba headed to the local cafe. The two of them actively made an effort to spend some quality time alone together, even if the end result wasn’t a full-scale “date,” per se. (And naturally, Nagase teased them relentlessly every time they left campus together.)

As they were sitting there enjoying their drinks, Inaba suddenly reached across the table and poked Taichi’s cheek.

“Poooke.”

“What’s up?”

“Poke, poke.” She continued to press her index finger against his skin.

“Okay, seriously—”

“Poke.”

“C’mon—”

“Poke, poke—”

“Knock it off.”

“...Poke?” Inaba tilted her head innocently without pulling her hand away, reminiscent of a child begging for attention. Needless to say, it was adorable.

“I-Inaba... You know I’m weak to that kind of stuff...”

“Gotcha right in the heart,” she grinned, miming a gun with one hand and “firing” it off with a wink that was somehow both cute and badass.

“Gah!” Taichi clutched at his chest. He didn’t even have to pretend—it was just that effective. Seriously, how is she so good at that?!

“Hmm... Okay, I’d say I’ve met my lovey-dovey quota for the day.”

“Can we maybe not talk about our relationship like it’s a business transaction?” You don’t have to ration out how much you flirt with me!

“So tell me, are you really 100% undecided?”

Once again, the topic had shifted back to the career surveys.

“Yep. But hey, we’ve still got two months or so until it’s due... so...” Taichi took a sip of his milk tea to mask his awkwardness.

“Do you at least know what course you’re taking?”

“...No.”

“We’re already more than halfway through our second year. Surely you have at least some idea of what you want to do,” Inaba pressed.

He’d noticed she was a bit more critical of him as of late, and it made him feel like she was angry with him—possibly because he’d gotten so used to the soft and sweet “Ina-bashful” version of her. Then again, maybe she had every right to be angry.

Unlike Aoki, Taichi had every option available to him, and yet he had no clear vision for his future like Inaba did. He wasn’t even at the “conflicted” stage. He was just a blank slate.

Thinking back, he didn’t have any particular future ambition at the start of high school, either.

“I know you can be indecisive, and I know it’s because you care about making the right choice.”

Wasn’t that a little overly generous?

“And because you care so goddamn much, I want you to...”

Suddenly a shadow fell over her face—so dark, it seemed to reject all light—but then it was gone, and her expression brightened once more.

“...think long and hard, young grasshopper.”

“We’re the same age,” he retorted.

She chuckled, her glossy dark hair swaying over her shoulders. Overall, she had a very mature vibe—but perhaps that was only natural, considering she was on the cusp of adulthood now.

As was he.

College. Future. Employment. Dream. Life. The words towered over him, immeasurably vast, weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. He knew he had to pick something, but he didn’t have the slightest idea of what he wanted.

A low hum of anxiety settled over him, and he exhaled sharply, hoping to expel it from his system.

“Eh, we’ll figure it out,” Inaba offered.

And so Taichi decided to stay optimistic for the time being.

Chapter 2: It Began, Prefaced as “The End”

“Thank you for all of your hard work, everyone... This will be the last time.”

Yaegashi Taichi sat in Rec Hall Room 401 with his four other fellow second-years. The two first-years were absent that day. And as it happened, that was the day «Heartseed» turned up, almost as if it had planned it—oh, who am I kidding? Of course it planned it, Taichi thought.

Just two days had passed since they’d been given their career planning surveys.

“Sorry, uh... what?” Nagase Iori asked, blinking.

“I said... thank you for all of your hard work...”

“The second part, you shit-for-brains!” Inaba Himeko roared.

“Oh... I believe I said... this will be the last time... Yes, that sounds about right...”

As usual, it spoke in a lethargic drone, piloting the body of physics teacher Gotou Ryuuzen. Unlike the normal Gotou, however, something about it screamed inhuman. Indeed, this was not Gotou—this was a different entity entirely. An entity of unknown origin that had foisted countless otherworldly phenomena upon the Cultural Research Club. An entity known to them only as «Heartseed».

“What do you mean, the last time...?!”

“Well, Kiriyama-san... It means exactly what it sounds like, I would imagine...”

“Okay, but... the last time for what?” Kiriyama Yui replied in a shaky voice.

Beside her, Aoki Yoshifumi leaned forward, as if to shield her. “We’re not gonna buy that crap from some apathetic liar like you!”

“I beg your pardon, Aoki-san...? At what point did I ever lie to you...? Maybe I left out crucial details... or dodged a few questions... but believe it or not, I actually haven’t lied to you... No, wait... I apologize... I actually have lied quite a bit... especially near the beginning...”

“Are you here to jerk us around again?” Taichi asked coldly.

During the last phenomenon, «Heartseed» had only made contact with the two first-years. As such, it had been nearly six months since the five of them last spoke to it. Not to suggest they missed talking to it, mind you. Its presence always triggered painful memories and deep-seated contempt.

They’d all tried their best not to think about it—to put it behind them and get over it—but when faced with «Heartseed»’s half-lidded eyes, slumped shoulders, and utter lifelessness, it all came rushing back.

“Let’s all take a second and calm down,” Inaba said quietly.

She let out a long breath, and Taichi intuited that she was trying her best to keep her composure despite the burning rage she clearly felt inside. Glancing around, he could tell that the others had caught on to this, too. Together, they wordlessly agreed to let Inaba take the reins for now. The moment it looked like she needed them, they would be there.

“...So, what’s the deal with this ‘last time’ shit? Why now?”

“Oh... Well, you see... My work here has come to an end, that’s all...”

“So you’re done, but «The Second» or whoever else might not be? Is that it?”

“No... Chances of that are... nil... most likely...”

“So you’re saying there is a chance!” Nagase snapped before she could stop herself.

“Look, maybe you could just trust me on this... Well... Given what you’ve been through, Nagase-san, I understand that might be a tall order... Regardless, I think you’ve all... worked hard enough for one lifetime. So this last round will be... yes, that’s it... a bonus stage...”

“You know, the word ‘bonus’ generally implies something good. And given your track record, I’m not getting my fucking hopes up.”

“We don’t want your stupid bonus stage! Just leave us alone!” Kiriyama shrieked.

Inaba clucked her tongue in frustration. “So, is this new phenomenon already active? Because we haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

“Oh god... Did you do something to our kouhai again...?” Taichi whispered as a chill shot down his spine.

“Relax, you two... It hasn’t started yet...”

«Heartseed»’s lip curled in an amused smirk. Amused. Today, for once, this typically inscrutable entity was emoting.

“But it’s about to.”

This was the first time «Heartseed» had ever warned them in advance. Over time it had adapted its tactics, and as a result, «Heartseed» itself had changed ever so slightly. But now all those tiny changes had added up, and for some reason, Taichi had a feeling that they’d created something brand new.

“For the record... this won’t impact any of you...”

“...What? Then why bother telling us?” Inaba asked, staring blankly.

“Well, obviously... to give you your bonus stage... Anyway, I’m getting tired of dealing with you, so... I’m just going to give you the rundown...”

“Oh, right. I almost forgot what an unrepentant asshole you are.”

Only a few meters separated the CRC in their chairs from «Heartseed» standing at the door... but as with heaven and earth, that gulf could never hope to be closed.

“This time around... you will have dream-like visions... in which you see the hopes and dreams of other people... more or less...”

“We’re going to have dreams... of other people’s dreams?” Nagase repeats skeptically.

“Oh... I suppose that sounds a tad confusing... Basically, you will have visions... of other people’s wishes... be it future ambitions... or short-term desires... Hence, dreams of dreams...”

Its explanation was patronizing to the point of outright condescension.

“To put it simply... I figured I’d show you images of people’s hopes for the future... completely at random, of course... Oh... Not just images, but sound as well... Similar to the sort of dream you might have in your sleep...”

“So we’re going to have dream-like ‘visions’ of other people’s desires... Sort of sounds like the Sentiment Transmission, in a way... except instead of feeling other people’s feelings, now we’re dreaming their dreams...” Inaba mused. Despite her clear distaste for all things «Heartseed», she was already hard at work analyzing and digesting this new information. “On top of that, these ‘dreams’ will run the gamut from future ambitions to short-term desires... Look, pal, I don’t think you’re gonna wring anything more out of us with some half-assed Sentiment Transmission knockoff.”

“Exactly! We’re stronger than that now!” Nagase chimed in.

“No... You misunderstand... Perhaps I should have been more clear... When I say ‘other people’... I don’t mean your fellow club members... I’m referring to... everyone in this school.”

“What? No... Y-You’re joking... You can’t be serious...!” Kiriyama sputtered, wrapping an arm protectively around herself.

By the time Taichi’s brain finished processing this, his body was trembling in fear.

“You will see the dreams of everyone who attends this school... with the exception of yourselves... Oh, and... Uwa-san and Enjouji-san are exempt as well... seeing as they already associated with me once... Oh, but... I suppose you already knew that... Okay... I’m done...” «Heartseed» continued, in a tone that utterly lacked the appropriate level of gravitas.

Apparently the five of them would now suffer visions of someone else’s hopes and dreams for the future—mainly in image format with some accompanying sound—popping up randomly in their minds. Supposedly it would be easy to tell once the phenomenon struck.

These visions would include both short-term and long-term desires, but for the most part, the dreams themselves would feature desires the subject was actively preoccupied with. Only the five second-years of the CRC would be able to have these visions, and the subject of said visions could be anyone at Yamaboshi except for the seven current members of the CRC. When asked if this would apply to teachers, «Heartseed» responded vaguely: “Oh... Well, probably...?”

It was also possible for multiple people to see the same vision. These visions would be completely randomized regarding when they struck and who they featured, but allegedly it would be comparatively easier to see visions of those nearby. And if someone wanted to see a vision of a specific person—or if that person was simply on their mind—that would also potentially increase their chances of “dreaming” about them.

“So... now that I’ve given you a fairly thorough explanation... as you can see... you have nothing to fear... It’s the perfect bonus stage... Yes, how lovely...”

«Heartseed» had a point there; nothing about this seemed directly threatening, per se. But Taichi still didn’t like the idea of it using people outside the CRC as part of the phenomenon.

“You are free to use this power... however you wish... This is the end, so... I intend to observe as closely as I can...”

“What do you mean by that?” Taichi asked.

“Well... as close as I can possibly get... It’s the last time, after all...”

At this point, with the way it kept repeating “the end” and “the last time,” it was starting to feel like it actually meant it.

“Depending on how you use it... you could accomplish wonderful things... but rest assured... this time, you don’t have to worry about... ‘entertaining’ me...”

We don’t? But wasn’t that your goal?

“And if you wish... I’ll consider expanding the limits of the people you can dream about... Consider it a sort of... token of my gratitude... for all the fascinating things I’ve witnessed thus far...” It spread its arms out wide—a gesture that would’ve been dramatic if it hadn’t been so sluggish.

Taichi wasn’t angry, nor was he frightened. He simply felt distinctly uncomfortable.

«Heartseed» claimed this was the last time. It didn’t seem to want to cause trouble for them... and it was spreading its influence to people outside of the club.

Looking around, Taichi could see that the others were similarly struggling to process this... well, except for one.

Inaba Himeko sat with her arms crossed, her posture perfectly straight, her head held high—looking up at «Heartseed», but looking down on it at the same time. Of course. Inaba was always one step ahead of the game. Taichi felt bad for putting all the heavy lifting on her, but at the same time, she was the best fit for the job.

“Whatever,” Inaba scoffed coldly. She and the entity stared each other down for a moment, but Inaba didn’t flinch. “Oh yeah, almost forgot to ask. Will these people know that we’ve dreamed about them?”

“No... they won’t...”

“Figured as much. Otherwise you’d have one hell of a time keeping everyone quiet,” she replied smugly.

“You seem to be enjoying this quite a bit, Inaba-san...”

How did it make «Heartseed» feel to get a taste of its own medicine?

“I just pity you and your stupidity, that’s all. Honestly... To think you’d try to saddle us with such a total non-issue.”

“I see... Perhaps I should have expected someone of your caliber to catch on so quickly... but still... did you really think I wouldn’t be aware of that...?”

“You’re just embarrassed that I caught you with your pants down.”

“Am I...?”

Once again, the two of them silently glared daggers at one another. An intense battle was playing out somewhere beyond Taichi’s understanding. Then «Heartseed» looked away, its gaze drifting to each of the other four.

“Well then... since Inaba-san has such a strong grasp of the situation... I’ll be going now...”

Once again, the entity refused to admit defeat, even once. Inaba scowled, but «Heartseed» promptly turned its back on her and put its hand on the doorknob.

“Hey! One last thing: when will this be over?” Inaba asked.

“Who knows...? I’ll be seeing you again before long...”

And with that, it was gone.

“...D-Do you really think this’ll be the last time?” Kiriyama asked, breaking the silence that lingered after «Heartseed» had left the clubroom.

“I find it hard to believe, but... I can’t see why it would bother lying to us at this stage,” Nagase replied.

“Wait, so... one more phenomenon, and then we can kiss «Heartseed» goodbye? Is it time to throw a party, or something?” Aoki made no attempt to hide his uncertainty.

“Dreaming other people’s dreams... What on earth would we call this one, anyway?” Taichi mused, having already resigned himself to his fate.

None of them showed any signs of fear. They were ready to face what came next. That was the strength this past year of oddities had given them.

“Hmph... You wanna name it?” Inaba scoffed. “Alright, fine. Let’s see... Watching other people’s dreams... without their permission... peeping Tom... no, X-ray vision... Okay, how about ‘Dream Vision’?”

“Works for me... Ugh, it’s really not safe to get other people involved in this,” Kiriyama sighed.

“Seriously,” Aoki agreed. “Seven is already a lot of people, but now it wants to screw with the whole school? That’s one heck of a jump!”

“We’ll really need to be careful. Now more than ever,” Taichi murmured.

They had the strength to rise to the challenge, but it was still uncomfortably heavy. How could they possibly handle a phenomenon that would affect hundreds of people? The thought alone was enough to make Taichi shiver.

“Alright, guys. We’re going to be holding the fate of other people’s lives in our hands, and that’s serious business... which is why we need to start brainstorming our strategy!” Nagase declared in her most cheerful voice, as if to shoo the doom and gloom from the room.

“That won’t be necessary,” Inaba replied without hesitation.

“Okay, so—wait, what?” Aoki slumped his shoulders. “We don’t need to? ¿Por qué?”

“«Heartseed» was right; this is a bonus stage. Don’t you get it?”

“Uhhh... No, I’m not sure I do,” Taichi replied quizzically.

“Even if the phenomenon happens, nothing has to happen.” Inaba tapped the table with her index finger. “Think about it. Say it strikes, and we have a Vision of someone’s Dream or whatever. They don’t know we saw it. And you know what that means?” Her eyes hardened with powerful resolve. “We do nothing, and it’ll be like we never saw it in the first place.”

“Wait, so, like... you want us to just ignore it?” Kiriyama asked.

“Damn right. Until now, the phenomena were contained within the club, and we’d all know when it was happening. But the rules are different this time. With Dream Vision, no one will ever find out that we saw. So what problems does it create? None.”

She clearly had a lot to say on the subject... perhaps a little too much.

“I mean, sure, there’s a chance we’ll learn something that will make it hard to interact with that person, but we just have to suck it up. All we have to do is endure it.”

She didn’t even pause to take a breath.

“The thing about bonus stages is that they’re optional