Me, too. Haruyuki very nearly gave voice to this thought but managed to hold it back.
But almost as if she had heard it anyway, Chiyuri popped her eyes open, and she looked directly at Haruyuki as she wiped away the droplets. “That’s it…so why?! Why are you leaning on her now?! You tell me not to do anything, so why are you fawning all over her and getting her to help you?! You’re terrible…It’s so frustrating. I spent all these years worrying about what to do, and she—In a single day, she goes and fixes everything. And almost like you’re…like you’re hers…”
Her. Kuroyukihime.
Having her come up now so unexpectedly, Haruyuki practically forgot about peeking inside Chiyuri’s memory and shook his head as if convulsing. “N-no, that’s not it. It’s not like I asked her. She’s the vice president of the student council, so she just took care of the bullying for me—”
“Then why is she parading you around like you’re her pet or something?! And why are you all small behind her like you’re her servant?!”
“No…it’s not like that!” Shaking his head fiercely once again, Haruyuki found himself wanting to ask what on earth he was trying to do here.
When Kuroyukihime had insisted Chiyuri was Cyan Pile, he’d stubbornly fought her, and now Chiyuri was blaming Kuroyukihime and he was earnestly denying that. The situation was like a jigsaw puzzle stirred up in a mixer, and he had no idea what piece to put where anymore. Lowering his voice, he repeated, “It’s not like that. I mean, I…I don’t hate it or anything—”
“Well, I do!!” Chiyuri interrupted, shouting so loudly she could probably be heard on the other side of her door. “Ever since we started junior high, you’ve been so cold, Haru. You never walk home with me, you give me this annoyed look whenever I talk to you at school, and, I mean, you never come over anymore. That never happened when we were in elementary school.”
“That’s…that’s just how it is. You already—I mean, you have a boyfriend.”
“And you’re the one who told me to get him! You’re the one who said that that way, you and Taku and I could always be together!! Was that a lie?!”
“It wasn’t a lie! It wasn’t a lie, but…we can’t be little kids forever!!” Haruyuki yelled, clutching the sheets on either side of Chiyuri’s face. “Back then, it didn’t bother me, walking together with you and Taku. Going to get a burger together was totally no big deal! But…I can’t anymore. It’s too hard! Taku gets cooler and cooler, and you…you’re cute, and then standing there next to you guys is me looking like this! Just being in the same place as you guys makes me want to dig a hole and crawl right into it!”
He had never before confessed his own inferiority complex so honestly to Chiyuri—no, to anyone. Although he was certain he would regret it and the mere memory would make him squirm so hard, he’d bore a hole into the ground. Haruyuki couldn’t manage to stop his thoughts.
If he were to try and say the same things using his mouth, the words would probably get stuck and never make it out. But they were directing and using neurospeak, and Haruyuki’s thoughts were a raging stream pouring into Chiyuri’s brain.
“I mean, it’s the same for you! Taku gets to walk along holding hands with you, but I don’t! Really, you’re the one who chose Taku! What I said had nothing to do with that!!”
Twenty centimeters below Haruyuki, Chiyuri opened her eyes wide as she took in this monologue.
A film of saline once again covered her light eyes. Screwing up her face, lips trembling violently, a voice like a whisper slipped out of her. “Do you really think that? Do you really believe someone’s value is totally decided by how they look? You always do this. You always just decide things on your own like this. Why do you hate yourself so much? Why do you have to be so critical of yourself?”
“Of course I hate myself,” Haruyuki replied, almost groaning. “And if I were someone else, I’d definitely hate me, too. I’m fat, I sweat all the time, I’m spineless…There isn’t a single thing about me a person could like. Being with me…just looking at me, I hate it.”
“But there are things. I know so many things to like about you. I know so many good things I can’t even count them using both hands!” Chiyuri continued, heaving with sobs just like when they were kids. “When it was snack time, you always gave me the biggest one, and that time I lost the charm I had on my backpack, you stayed out late looking for it for me, and you always fix my Neurolinker for me right away whenever it does something weird, and you have all these great things about you that no one else has. It doesn’t matter how you look. I-if that time two years ago, you had…” Chiyuri looked like she was swallowing something back suddenly and then smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say that, should I? I…I was afraid it wouldn’t just be the kids at school you pulled away from, it would be me and Taku, too. So I just did like you said.”
Haruyuki felt the back of his throat close up tightly but managed somehow to squeeze out a thought. “You didn’t actually…for me…? So that Taku and I could stay friends…?”
“Because you always looked like you were having the most fun when you were fooling around with Taku. And I used to have the most fun watching the two of you. I didn’t want that time together to change. That’s all I was thinking. But…I guess it’s impossible, huh? Everything changes; you can’t stop people’s feelings.” Chiyuri suddenly lifted both arms and wrapped them around Haruyuki’s large body, squeezing tightly.
Frozen, Haruyuki was confronted with an extremely close, tearstained, smiling face.
“You’re already somewhere I can’t reach, aren’t you? To be honest, when I saw you and Kuroyukihime at the gates before, I thought maybe…you were hers then. And I hated it. Because I know that I know you a million times better than she does. But…if she has the power to change you…”
Caught up in a serious maelstrom of confusion, Haruyuki could only listen to what Chiyuri was saying. Her body pressed up against his hadn’t changed at all from those long, long ago days, still small and warm.
“But please, quit with the attitude. Quit acting like her follower. If you’re going to do it, then do it. Be her boyfriend. And give everyone at school a heart attack.”
If I hugged Chiyuri back right now, what would happen?
For just a moment, Haruyuki seriously entertained the idea. Of course, he didn’t actually move his body, but the fingers on his right hand twitched, betraying his thoughts.
The holo cursor moved in sync with this movement and happened to hit the icon for the installed applications folder in the window showing the contents of the internal memory in Chiyuri’s Neurolinker. After the tiniest lag, a new window opened silently.
Unconsciously checking each of the apps shown one by one, Haruyuki murmured in his physical voice just as unconsciously, “I’m sorry…I’m sorry, Chiyu. I…I didn’t even think that you would be worrying about stuff or struggling. Which is exactly why I’m no good.”
“That’s right. I do worry, and Taku has stuff he worries about, too, and probably…even her…She does, too. Everyone’s the same; no one’s any different from you, Haru.” He felt the warmth of Chiyuri’s voice and her small hands in his bones.
What is wrong with me? Haruyuki wondered in his head. Suspecting for even an instant that she was a Burst Linker and hiding it from me.
He saw at a glance that, in fact, there was no icon patterned after that flaming B in her application folder. Just in case, he went through each of her installed programs, but they were all things like off-the-shelf mail programs and media players, and simple games. He didn’t find a single thing that came from anywhere suspicious.
So Chiyuri’s not Cyan Pile or anything after all, he said to himself as he opened the properties on a few of her apps, when suddenly something felt off. The program wasn’t the problem. It was—The reaction time as he clicked and moved around the screen was slightly slower than before.
If it were a wireless signal through their cheap home server, that’d be one thing, bu
t he was directing with Chiyuri’s Neurolinker through a high-grade (although short) cable. There shouldn’t have been a response lag he could feel. The only reason for such a lag to occur would be if a large part of Chiyuri’s Neurolinker transmission bandwidth was being monopolized by some other circuit.
Increasingly suspicious, Haruyuki opened a network status window.
Chiyuri’s Neurolinker was currently connected to three routes: the global net, the Kurashimas’ home net, and the direct link with Haruyuki. The only one of these that should have been having this kind of packet exchange was the one with Haruyuki.
But when he checked the routes, he very nearly cried out loud. A large quantity of packets was being sent on the global net. The local sender was an unknown program installed incredibly deep in the folder. The receiver on the global side was unknown. That would mean—
There’s a back door!!
Someone had hacked Chiyuri’s Neurolinker and was secretly connecting to the outside. And more than that, that someone was right now, this very instant, stealing information from Chiyuri’s vision and hearing.
That bastard!!
Very close to screaming, Haruyuki moved his finger to try and delete the problem app. But he stopped on the verge of dropping the icon he had dragged over into the trash.
The someone connected through this back door right now was Cyan Pile. Whoever Cyan Pile was, he or she hadn’t managed to change Brain Burst; using Chiyuri’s Neurolinker as a stepladder would, without a doubt, make it possible to erase one’s existence from the matching list.
In other words, if he identified where the packets were going, he could discover Cyan Pile’s true identity. But to pursue whoever it was without making that player suspicious would be nearly impossible. The only time it would be even remotely doable was during a fight. In which case, he had to hide the fact that someone had noticed this back door until the next attack came.
Exhaling quietly, Haruyuki closed all the windows. “Thanks, Chiyu,” he murmured, and he gently pulled his body away.
The quietly sobbing Chiyuri also lowered her arms and nodded, smiling.
Returning her smile awkwardly, Haruyuki reached out with his left hand and pulled the plug from Chiyuri’s Neurolinker.
6
Friday.
Haruyuki trudged forlornly down the road to school alongside students whose shining faces were full of excitement at the thought of the approaching end of the long week’s studies; soon they would be free for two whole days.
“I…A guy like me…,” he groaned to himself, having been overtaken first thing that morning by the deepest self-hatred.
If the dream he had the night he installed Brain Burst was the worst of his life, then the one last night would have to be said to be the lowest low point in his life. If it had been only Kuroyukihime performing acts he knew only virtually, it might have instead been the best dream of his life. But in the space of a heartbeat, the one person had become two, and on top of that—
“Ah! Aaaaaah…” He desperately resisted the urge to run off with his head in his hands.
Currently, Neurolinker companies were in ruthless competition to develop an app to record dreams, an idea that was itself almost dreamlike. He was deeply relieved technology hadn’t yet materialized. Well, a not-insignificant part of him had to admit that this was slightly regrettable, but—
“Oh! Good morning, boy!”
Haruyuki jumped at the sudden, chipper voice and corresponding pat on his shoulder. Turning and seeing the beautiful girl in black standing there, he jumped again. “Hyaho?!”
“Is that some kind of hip hello?”
Haruyuki shook his head back and forth at Kuroyukihime and the doubtful look on her face. “No! Uh! It’s nothing!! Um, g-good morning!”
“Mm.” Tilting her head even farther to the side, Kuroyukihime coughed lightly and continued. “Hmm. Oh. Yesterday…I apologize. That was childish of me.”
“N-no, not at all. I’m sorry, too…I barely even said good-bye before I left.”
On either side of the pair as they stood talking, students wearing the same uniform gradually came to a halt. Not only seventh graders, but eighth and ninth graders as well, looking on longingly and trying to say good morning to Kuroyukihime. Before they knew it, a line had formed behind them.
Seeing this, Kuroyukihime addressed the issue with a collective shout at the assemblage. “Oh! Morning, everyone!” She slapped Haruyuki on the back and started walking quickly. Haruyuki hurried after her, whispered conversations in hushed voices still reaching his ears.
“No. It’s completely understandable that you would want to leave. After all, your close…friend was accused of being a cowardly assailant. And on top of that, I made you say there’s no way you could direct with her to check it out. I am so sorry.”
“Huh? Uh…um. I did, though…direct.”
Kuroyukihime’s profile stiffened. “What?” Faster than the warning bells telling him something was off again somehow: “Where?”
Pinioned by that sharp voice, Haruyuki had no choice but to answer her honestly. “W-well, at her house…”
“Where in her house?”
“H-her…bedroom.”
“I see.”
For some reason, Kuroyukihime’s pace gradually started to increase. Her stride already a fair bit longer than his own, Haruyuki chased after her, sweat popping up on his forehead. In a few seconds, he was walking alongside her again, attempting to resume their conversation.
“I peeked into her physical memory. And her Neurolinker, it’s—”
“How long was the cable?” Kuroyukihime’s aura was piercing as she cross-examined him.
“Th…irty centimeters,” Haruyuki answered fearfully.
“Mm.”
Tak tak tak tak tak tak tak tak.
Dumbfounded, Haruyuki watched Kuroyukihime’s long hair swinging as she approached the school gates, now visible before them, at an incredible pace.
I don’t get it. This world is nothing but stuff I don’t get.
Haruyuki listened earnestly during morning classes, in an escapist kind of way, taking extensive notes, and when he heard the light chimes that signaled the lunch break, he had a hard time bringing himself to move.
If he’d thought about it rationally, he should have gone to see Kuroyukihime, who was likely in the lounge, to inform her immediately about the back door Cyan Pile had set up in Chiyuri’s Neurolinker and to discuss a means to follow the packets. But unless he figured out the reason for Kuroyukihime’s strangely foul mood before then, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on their conversation at all.
The truth was he often made people around him uncomfortable. Overweight guy, sweating like a greasy waterfall, talking nervously in a quiet voice; it was rare to find people who weren’t annoyed by him. Then the looks on their faces would just prompt Haruyuki to shrink further, lower his voice to its bare minimum, making it even harder to hear anything he said.
Kuroyukihime must have secretly been putting up with him until now. Maybe she had finally reached her limit.
In which case, it might have been better to just give up entirely on having a face-to-face conversation with her in the real world. If he did a full dive and they talked as avatars, at least he wouldn’t be sweating and the volume of his voice would be automatically adjusted. If everything would go more smoothly that way and proceed in a more businesslike fashion, then that should have been what he wanted.
Dejected, eyes on his desk, Haruyuki was in the middle of hashing out this debate with himself when suddenly he was loudly interrupted by an unfamiliar voice above him.
“Hello! You’re Haruyuki Arita from grade seven’s class C, right?”
Haruyuki lifted his head with a start. Standing before him were two female students he had never seen before. They wore eighth-grade ribbons, and both had holo tags displayed on their shoulders indicating that they were on club business. Newspaper club.
Throwing his head back with a g
runt, Haruyuki saw a new icon flashing in his view: SREC. This was to let him know that the Neurolinker of the person with whom he was speaking was recording their conversation. Of course, this wasn’t permitted for just any conversation, and within the school, it was only allowed in a handful of situations.
For instance, reporting for the school newspaper.
Without even noticing the students around them watching, ears perking with interest, Haruyuki got ready to run as fast as he could, not caring how it looked. However, he saw that his interlocutors clearly had experience in this type of situation, as one of them had slipped in behind him to block his retreat.
As he sat paralyzed in a half-standing position, a pair of hands popped out to rest atop a holo keyboard, and after a quick glance over at the recording icon flashing brightly, the newspaper club’s hard-nosed investigative journalist let fly with a question that hit too close to the heart of things.
“We’re working on the column ‘Heart of the Rumor: Head Shot’ for the Umesato Real Times! Let’s clear this up once and for all: Is the rumor that you and Kuroyukihime are dating actually true?!”
Haruyuki mustered all his mental strength and responded in a voice that could almost have been called calm. “It’s a lie. It’s a rumor. No basis in fact.”
Ten fingers tapped away in front of him at the invisible keyboard while the owner of those fingers attacked again. “But according to the information we have obtained, you and Kuroyukihime have directed on two occasions in the lounge. Not only that, but the two of you even went on a direct date at a café within the school district!!”
“Wh…”
The girl looked down at Haruyuki, who was stunned they knew that, and the light caught the lens of her glasses, which appeared to be real.