---

---

Amidst the resonance of the third-rate speakers, a single, dissonant thud struck the gymnasium floor. It flew up to my stomach—currently disconnected from the ground—and scrambled desperately to make my consciousness hide in the shadow behind the back of my head.

This field I'm ill-suited for was advancing—slowly, steadily, fraught with caution.

This situation, where I have to wait for an opponent closing the distance to execute me by firing squad… At the end of this provocation, which feels far from the best or finest course of action I could have taken, is there really any chance of victory? Well, assuming sanity is already out the window… looking back at my battle record, Sugawara basically let me win out of pity, Watari-san was an old man with barely any time left, Biwashima was a surprise attack, and Mayu pinch-hit against Nimou. Against the Saka couple, it was a crushing defeat… Hmmm, my win rate *is* eighty percent, though. But it feels like I’ve just been racking up consecutive wins against Sea-Monkeys, only for my next opponent to suddenly be a tropical rat mite.【T/N: イエダニ (Iedani) - Typically 'house dust mite', but can refer to tropical rat mites. The comparison is likely meant to be absurdly jarring, emphasizing the sudden leap in danger despite the seemingly unimpressive foe.】 Making the leap to land-based combat is way too fast. Right now, Mr. Criminal is aiming for the evolutionary podium, carefully advancing near the center of the basketball court… or so I predicted. That’s probably about the distance and speed.

Can I manage somehow this time, too?

Given that hand-to-hand combat is involved in my current state, my left brain denies it’s possible. But I’d spent too much false bravado facing the attacker to redirect any towards bolstering my own courage enough to push my right brain into continuous denial. I was kind of hoping for a reply from my bad luck, though.

Setting aside resignation and taking a breath, I belatedly formulated a reply to Sugita.
"The two of us will manage somehow, right?"
"Manage how?! What are we gonna do?! Hurry up and tell me, he's gonna be here any second!"
"Okay, okay, don't be in such a panic. It's not like I'm without a plan, you know. I even have a special *tool*."
I'm the type who can never bring himself to use precious full-party recovery items until the absolute last moment, but today, I'm going all out.
"Tool? A cane? Huh?" What's he getting so flustered about, spitting like that?

Isn't there one right here? A tool. A *thing*. Sorry, but I don't recruit assets as actual human beings.
Apparently, being the "bug type" means, in normal terms, being a cold, twisted person.

"Huh? What?"
"High places and low places... why do you think they exist?"
"Me? I think they're for jumping off." *And you're the one doing the jumping.*

I caught sight of the cautious hunter's toes below, at the edge of the stairs—alright, here we go.
"See ya, accomplice," I said, giving Sugita a push on the back.
"Guh, eh—" He fell forward, just like that. Since his feet were tied, even someone as weak as me could easily push him off.
Sugita spun once, crashing onto the stage back-first.

And me? Without resisting the recoil from the push, I jumped down on the opposite side from Sugita.
I remembered a drama club member playing an old witch falling from 3,000 meters up during the cultural festival had jumped from here. It was well within the safe zone; even without breaking the fall, it would just be bruises.

Right now, falling, is Sugita from the drama club.
He's supposed to be one of the culprits too… so I made use of him.
He performed the task of tying everyone's hands and feet, and then he was done.
Without anyone forcing him, he went back to the very front row.
Someone who genuinely wanted to be saved, with that kind of expression on his face, getting *closer* to the dangerous individual?
Normally, you'd try to get in the back row, right? Unless, of course, there were orders accompanied by the barrel of a gun.
He'd persistently asked about my situation, my defiance, and even smoothly told the attacker my name. 【T/N: Refers to an earlier interaction where Sugita called Mii-kun "Edase".】
He was entrusted with scouting, too, and kept asking about the cell phone.
In other words, he was the information provider for unforeseen circumstances. Obtaining the key would also be possible for a student.
Well, it doesn't really matter if this reasoning is wrong.
If I'm mistaken, I can just bow my head later and say, "Thank you for your cooperation."
Either way, this time, I had him play the part of the volleyball.

Almost simultaneously, we finished falling onto the stage. And there, we had our first face-to-face encounter.
In the sense that he hadn't killed anyone, he was the most benevolent criminal in my life.
His appearance【T/N: The original text has 利用が変形も (riyou ga henkei mo), which is grammatically awkward. Assuming a typo for 容姿も (youshi mo - appearance too) based on context.】, too, possessed a degree of normalcy that surpassed most of the adults I knew.
But, my gaze didn't meet his.
It, along with the instantly aimed gun barrel, was projected towards Sugita, who had landed slightly earlier and closer to the shooter.
However, the bullet did not mercilessly bloom a red flower.
See? Just as I thought. He didn't shoot because they're partners.

The attacker's eyeballs darted around so much they looked like they might burst.
At the end of that dizzying processing, he fixed his aim on me.
And there again, a slight pause.
His recognition wasn't complete, so he couldn't pull the trigger instantly.
Oh my, that twitching, furious expression is quite terrifying.
I knew that attacker's face, but my face was unknown to him.
Not knowing the enemy's appearance delayed his judgment for just an instant. The target wasn't fixed.

If I had that much time, it was more than enough leeway for me to reach his immediate vicinity. Slapping my bare feet against the floor, I leaped at the enemy as if bouncing. As long as I didn't give him any fixed distance, unless his arms stretched like rubber, it would be impossible for him to take aim and shoot me. After this, I just needed to keep gripping his sleeve, allow no distance, and restrain him. *If* I could, that is. This is where the problem started. The real show, the domain my plan couldn't protect.

Clenching my teeth and toes hard enough to make my hair stand on end, I braced myself to resist his struggles. If I could just get the gun out of his hands, I could at least keep a fatal wound at bay. However, the arms I'd thrown around the attacker—who was merely letting out a human roar like "Gaaaaaah!"—were easily shaken off. My fingernails lacked the arm strength to dig in; it wasn't like they possessed any deep devotion.【T/N: The phrase 親思い (oya omoi - thinking of parents/filial piety) is used oddly here. It likely implies a lack of tenacious grip, unlike clinging tightly to a parent, rather than a literal meaning.】 It was obvious, but as expected, it was no good—a part of my brain, acting like a detached observer, instantly mocked me.

While my body was flailing, the opponent took a step back, creating an opening for the gun barrel to slip between us. Still staggering, I instinctively tried to step towards him, but he shoved my chest back with that same barrel, creating complete distance between us. Aah, this is just too useless.

Having survived being beaten half to death, I was going to be shot dead here.
The rifle, aimed with practiced movements, felt like it tore holes in my vocal cords and consciousness even before firing.
*Hyuu, hyuu,* the sound of leaking air echoed in my ears for an instant.
*Idiot,* my five senses warped with the illusion of being laughed at by the gun barrel itself.
A flash covered my eyeballs, my consciousness converging on the point of death being thrust upon me—

The shadow of a charging object pulled everything back to reality.
The wolf had come.
Yes, like the shepherd boy cried wolf, reality came and went.
Like the illusion of a zoo crammed onto a bus and suddenly arriving—

Piercing through, shaking off, pressing the attack—
No, not a beast. It possessed no fangs, no claws, no tail.
And, an existence utterly without hesitation.
Not a beast, but… could that child even be called human-like?

Misono Mayu, having abandoned her hiding spot, was leaping onto the attacker from the side. Tumbling together, the two of them rolled off the stage. Well, this *was* in a corner of my predictions, but still—ah, geez!
"Maa-chan?"
Ahh, ahh, ahh, my head’s spinning, stamping my feet, stamping my feet—
"Mayu!"

Though startled by her charge, I leaped over Sugita—who was writhing and curled into a ball—and peered down below the stage. Mayu was pressing down on the attacker, pinning his right hand holding the gun and the nape of his neck, having succeeded brilliantly in capturing him. She must have picked it up before hiding—a shard of glass was at his neck… far from just resting it there, it was stabbed in quite deep, and the attacker's blood was dripping down. Well, I guess it falls within the bounds of behavioral deterrence; it's not fatal. The pinned-down attacker, breathless from the assault from an unexpected direction and the shock of feeling his *own* blood flowing, his eyes showing the severity of his state, wasn't even struggling to shake Mayu off. The glass shard embedded in his neck seemed truly effective. Maybe I should have brought at least one weapon myself when I charged him. That said, with this arm, I couldn't have handled it properly, so maybe the result would've been the same.

"Looked like he was gonna bully Mii-kun, so I tried exterminating him." Staring intently at the embedded glass shard, Mayu reported her motive without looking my way.
"...I see. Thanks." She certainly saved me, so I had no grounds to complain.
I let out a breath, almost collapsing onto my backside.
...Come to think of it, Mayu was the clean freak who'd scrub her skin raw with a toothbrush if a boy touched her. After this, she probably won't feel right until she takes a shower.
Well, whatever. All's well that ends well. Reflections on this event can wait.
"Just wait there like that for a second. I'll be right down," I called out to Mayu.

Looks like my bad luck stirred up the people around me and let me survive this time, too.
All that's left is to knock the attacker unconscious and be taken care of by the personification of state power.
As for figuring out how to avoid getting yelled at by Natsuki-san, I'll deal with that when it comes.
First, "Bene,"【T/N: Italian for "Good" or "Well".】 I celebrated the success in solitude.
Ah, but the bento awaiting me after this was curry, wasn't it?
My stomach clenched.
But that feeling wasn't solely composed of peaceful anticipation.

"Ah, right, right. Mii-kun."
A carefree glance back towards me. Then she pointed—to the giant mat in the stage wings.
*At least don't relax your grip—hey, you idiot! Let go of the glass, too—*
"What, hey, h—" *Hey!* The right arm pinned beneath Mayu moved—
"The bento—wanna eat it over there? I bet nobody'll be here during lunch break."

I had failed to understand the girl named Mayu yet again—a regret so frequent it was uncountable—

A gunshot.

A sense of dark clouds and suffocation, as if my eardrums and eyeballs had swapped places.
The holes in my face vanished.
Shot.

Mayu—who was shot—*Misono Mayu*—crumples in red—
*muh—*takes aim—
*gururururube—*【T/N: Onomatopoeia suggesting spinning, gurgling, or collapsing sound.】
—it became like that. Why? In that, you know, kind of way—
*thump*—Mayu collapsed—is that all? *thump*—just that? No, my consciousness too—droplets seep—soaking into my underside—it sticks to consciousness—threads waver—dyed scarlet—but everywhere—if I reach out I can touch it—so there shouldn't be any problem—yet my feelings are far—far—extremely far—my legs forget bipedalism—guide my hands to the ground—so I crawl—crawl—crawl—red afterglow on my cheek—but it will eventually drip—vanish—boil away and vanish—must not catch my attention—soon remove the four legs—into half—into half-prose—movement and attack—essential for human communication—republic and harmony—moderate attack is maximum understanding—so violence is denied—but cannot follow the path to disappearance—it is eternal—like fresh blood sprouting from humans—it is noble—normally drifts in the air—expecting intelligence from humans who inhale it—is clearly the psychology of pests soaking in insensitive tranquility—between ignorance and innocence—*BOOM! BANG BANG!*—because of things like that—the right to negotiate with aliens will be taken by insects—how many times must Deorias El Chio Jimi【T/N: Likely nonsensical names generated by delirium.】 warn before humanity transforms—this state of mind worrying—I put it into my fist—resisting the earth—incidentally how did I permit the squishy thing【T/N: ぐにゃぐにゃ (gunyagunya) - squishy, floppy, limp. Likely referring to the attacker's body/face as he punches it.】 to hit my palm bumpily【T/N: ごつごつ (gotsugotsu) - bumpy, rugged, lumpy.】—a reason absolutely no one can accept—yes—that is—falsehood—bluffing—and above all—not enough lies—*that itself is a lie*—but there are plenty of people who like lying more than me—skilled people—let's serve them on a plate—decorate with flowers—add paper lanterns too while we're at it—even so—people who need lies more than me to live—in these blood vessels—this brain—this skin—these organs—there are none—yes—I am a rare species—rare but not valuable—therefore scrap—discarded goods—unwanted things—dreams fill me up completely【T/N: 詰りつく(tsumari tsuku) - possibly a typo for 詰まりつく (tsumaritsuku), 'to be completely filled/clogged'.】—body fluids go on a trip—from west to southeast—away from me—shaking off speed and acceleration—but that too is—*Ora Bora Ari*【T/N: More nonsensical sounds, potentially referencing JoJo's Bizarre Adventure ("Ora Ora" / "Muda Muda").】—Useless Useless Useless Useless Useless Useless Useless—Humans have limits—things that can't be filled—things that can't be changed—if you accept that—the world expands—however—you have to gaze at hope in a place you can't reach—at the same time it narrows the heart—but—that's why people stop seeing reality—make excuses of effort—are misled by possibility—there's no way you can't know unless you try—because you can't bet on the one-in-a-hundred-million chance of success *definitely* not succeeding—decadence and laziness's rotten meat is completed—it forms a large distortion—that's why I have lived—properly giving up—compromising—what meaning does my resistance give?—the deformed spirit—abandoned responsibility accompanying actions—daringly crushed the room for salvation to intervene—establishing itself—because I was able to support life in this space with paradox—now—I absolutely cannot remember or produce any memory of being denied by someone—and yet—without reason or emotion—the wall approaches—is the only means of escape to climb up?—but I abandoned the sports club—ahh—impossible—give up—then this gloominess【T/N: もやもや (moyamoya) - hazy, gloomy, vague feeling.】 contains even one *ri*【T/N: Unit of distance, approx. 3.9km.】 of elements that should become *tsu-nitsu-ni hoki-hoki*【T/N: Nonsense sounds.】—it's chemical analysis—the secretary is the humanities type—so not one result comes out—the moment fingertips touched one end of morality—that is not an abyss with no answer—nor application—nor higher level—if I must be informed that the inside of the mandarin orange was rotten—though it's easier to live thrown outside existence and reason from the start—outside that is full of common sense—we who noticed were trapped—inside healthiness—inside there is nothing—irrationality swirls—we can adapt there but—it's full of petty tricks like a *dokkiri* house【T/N: Candid camera prank show house.】 that strip human qualifications—so my shoulder stiffness got bad—I became unable to live alone—unable to live satisfactorily—violence lost responsibility—attacks were replaced by weapons—stared at by creatures of helpless malice—
That's why I became unable to raise my fist.

The dog's body【T/N: 犬の身体 (inu no karada) - 'dog's body'. Likely a metaphor for a primal, broken, or subservient state Mii-kun feels reduced to, rather than a literal dog.】 stabilizes everything, establishing instability.
My finished breath catches, unable to find balance.
The surrounding commotion stays at a pre-sound level, making me hazy.
This feeling of nausea, like I'm about to vomit up my semicircular canals.
It's the basic symptom when something is lacking in both mind and body.
It's not abnormal at all. So, still, I'm okay.

The switches inside my head all broke.
The sound of plastic pieces shattering echoes in my ears.
Reconnection between brain and heart made impossible—forced shutdown.

When I came to, both my fists had bone lightly exposed, the skin torn, the flesh pulpy【T/N: ぐじゅっと (gujutto) - squishy, pulpy sound.】, half-dead.
Attacker A was asleep, something attached above his neck—maybe a face, maybe a red pond, I couldn't tell.
Because he was crying in red, I stopped hitting him—but that's a lie.
For some reason, the male student accomplice I was mounted on was also the red of someone who'd failed to die, and ah, I found myself convinced I'd done this to both of them.

............What is this? I can't get angry (Was I always like this?), I can't get desperate (Was this the case too?).
Am I tired? Has my heart worn down?
Don't just lie here playing dead【T/N: 返事がない屍 (henji ga nai shikabane) - literally 'corpse that doesn't reply'. He's telling himself not to be unresponsive.】, go to Mayu. Gotta go.

Huh? Can't move. I pitched forward.
A sense of loss, like blood draining from somewhere in my body.
Crap. The red fruit burst on me, too?
It's been a while. Since Sugawara got me at the end of last autumn?
Really, scumbags like me never succeed, no matter what they do.
Looks like I was shot once somewhere along the way. No, twice?
Stuff's splattered everywhere… blood, something yellow, various things on the floor.
And, because I fell onto that floor, I can't see my own body. Wood grain, and just a little bit of Mayu, fills my entire field of vision.
Mayu…… is she moving?

Even by her side, now distant as the shores of the afterlife, red flowers are blooming madly.
Her shoulder blades rise. Her fingers are wriggling.
She's starting to move.
Confirming it, I let out a sob, snot smelling of breath and iron dripping down.
Aah…
If she hadn't moved, I could have just slept peacefully like this.
…Huh? What is this thought? What the hell is this!

Am I in trouble? Was I shot?
Isn't the skull meant for Mii-kun about to crumble into sand?
Yeah, crap. My consciousness was about to fade.
I force precious, self-supplied blood to my forehead. Distribute some to my eyeballs too, while I'm at it.

Don't screw with me. It's still too early.
Like hell I'll escape reality yet.
I won't lower my eyelids, won't let my mouth shut.【T/N: 口はけさせない (kuchi wa kesasenai) is slightly ambiguous. 'Kesu' means erase/extinguish. Could mean 'won't let my voice die' or 'won't be silenced'. Translating as 'won't let my mouth shut' to convey resistance.】 I clench my teeth.
If you say I lack iron, I'll chew up frogs, I'll suck the living blood of others!

Mayu, lying face down with one person—the attacker—between us.
There was no one around Mayu.
Before I knew it, always, everyone and everything had disappeared.
She, who gets lonely easily, had become solitude itself.

Just drifting along, living in the "alone" she couldn't help but choose.
The reason Maa-chan seeks Mii-kun… was always right beside her, yet no one could fulfill it.
Ah, ah, so that's it.
Is she… similar to me, after all?

Guilt becomes a lump of vomited blood, tormenting my insides.
How utterly belated.
And the most helpless part is…
That I want it all to be a lie.

To the point I can't even comprehend if my classmates are murmuring, everyone, *everyone* is different from us.

Mayu is coming.
She came crawling.
*Drag.*
*Shh.*
*Drag.*
Covered in blood, red, with blood, vermilion, dripping, swaying.
It's like she's indifferent to her own injuries, crawling reluctantly simply because it's the only way she *can* move.
Letting it overflow, she's stopped being human.
But her hand catches on the floor. Nails looking like they'll peel off, she pulls her body forward. Mayu's expression maintained its normalcy, her acted-out quietness in front of others was not easily【T/N: 如きに (gotoki ni) is unusual here, often meaning 'like/as if'. Assuming 容易に (youi ni - easily) fits the context better.】 disturbed.
*She's strong,* I lamented at the sight.
Because she's strong, she's brittle. Because she's hard, she breaks easily.

Though I intended to imitate her and reached out my hand, my arm just soaked redly in despair.
My elbow… is dead.

Mayu, having crawled around the attacker, her gym clothes dyed red—a school uniform violation.
Mayu's blood-smeared hand covers my swollen one.
And it makes my headache even more pronounced.
"*Pyoh,*" *Uinn...* Hurry, someone, call for help! A teacher! Koibi-sensei! Someone!
"*Byah!*" Something flowed from my mouth. Blood? Stomach fluid? My tongue? I choked.
Damn it… everyone's hands and feet are tied… the lock… it's locked… and…
Too early… I dealt with him too soon. How much time is left until class ends?
"………Ah…" Unsure what I even wanted to assert, a strange cry escaped me.

Suddenly, my right hand was gripped, slightly stronger.
That should have hurt, but the wound just throbbed, merely feeling unsettling.
Fed up with the smell of blood, I looked at Mayu.
Our eyes met.
Mayu was observing me, looking deeply interested.
What she was staring at… wasn't my wound.
It wasn't me, either.
She tilted. The unreliability of her joints, looking like they could just roll away, come undone.
She doesn't complain of pain. Like the old days.
She doesn't cry.【T/N: 泣きかない (nakikakanai) appears to be a typo for 泣かない (nakanai - doesn't cry).】 Like the old days.
But… the one thing she's sought since *that time*… absolutely does not waver.

She's staring intently, only at Mii-kun.
At the precious thing residing behind her own eyelids.
Mayu… simply satisfied her own curiosity.

*Mii-kun… if I die… will you cry?*

I don't want to cry.
Enough to make me want to scream 'Don't screw with me!', I want to kill my tear ducts.
But, enough to make me scream 'Don't screw with me!', my tear ducts feel like they're about to die.
What should I do? I can't put any strength in my stomach; I can't prevent anything. My tongue won't move, so I can't even spin any vanity.
I want to reply. I want to give her words back.
*Forget that, talk about the bento!*

What… she's aware of her own condition? That's not like you, Maa-chan.

I want her to stop. Spare me. Please… don't notice.
Giving up on moving my limbs, I pour strength into my eyes. Offer it up. Push it out.
Because if I cried, I felt like it would all end right there.

Even if, after this, some omniscient, omnipotent police lady received cosmic radio waves, barged into the gym, carried Mayu and me, transported us to the hospital at Shinkansen speed, got us treated, not just saving our lives but removing maybe nine brushes with death, making us perfectly healthy in mind and body, making us grow fifteen centimeters taller, giving us double eyelids, blessing us with beautiful personalities, and making the murders, the kidnappings, the First Grader Confinement【T/N: 監禁一年生 (kankin ichinensei). Uncertain meaning. Could be a literal event ("Confinement of First Graders"), a title ("Confinement: Year One"), or just part of Mii-kun's hyperbolic list of traumas.】, making everything become as if it never happened—
Even then, I felt something would be irrevocably ruined.
My and Mayu's daily life would rot away, ruined by this disastrous plunge.【T/N: 落水 (rakusui) - falling into water. Used metaphorically here for their current catastrophic situation.】

Our daily life didn't have to be perfectly ordinary days.
As long as it was simply *lived*, that was enough.
No matter the cost…
Not crying out at the fatal wounds that visited so often.
I didn't want to give up on maintaining that backward-looking existence.
Achievements gained over the years.
Distant dreams, deemed impossible.
Feelings spun out, swelling until they bore fruit.
All of it, if fulfilled, gets incorporated into daily life.
Everything gets digested by the days, circulates, becomes flesh and blood.
The "specialness" vanishes there, becoming imperceptible, but…
Daily life continues to be extraordinary.

I feel like that's what I wished for.
In the past, with my family.
Probably, including my sister's mother.
Now, with Mayu.

Mayu's eyes stopped meeting mine.
Faster than her eyelids could fall, she indulged in a staring contest with the floor. Are her eyes even open now? Her face is prone, her hair scattered on the floor; the possibility of recovery cannot be read from that.
Her hair is matted with blood; taking care of it later will be a pain…
But right now, that doesn't matter at all.

*If you sleep, you'll die! Hey!*
My consciousness struggles desperately with thoughts like that, but I can't shout. Am I half-asleep too?

You can sleep when you're dead, so don't you dare doze off during class!

Even if I die, things will work out somehow.
Like when my brother died, the people around me will keep living.
A death of this degree… viewed in the grand flow of things, it might just be processed as a "Mii-kun replacement flag."
But if Mayu dies, that means *Mayu isn't alive anymore*.
Talk of average lifespans is irrelevant; Mayu is someone who should die *after* me.
Even if that's a truth more commonplace than pebbles rolling on the roadside, I don't want to let it go.
Within these hands that can't even grasp her, I want her to go on spilling peaceful breaths.

...Well, maybe it's needless worry. I feel like I'm about to die soon, too.
In terms of average lifespan, right! *Ha!*

I recall the sight of Nimou trying to stab Mayu to death.
This time, I got caught up too, and the escape route was sealed.

Death isn't escape. Rather, "escaping" is something you do while you're alive.
To escape boredom and emptiness, finding fulfillment is the reason to live—that's the conclusion I've arbitrarily reached.

Dying is, simply put, digestion. Fate swallows your life whole and dissolves it completely.
With our bodies diagonally half-lost, I have to admire that we've been kept alive this long.
Banzai for Fate! May you be tormented by the death of immortality where nothing is swallowed!
...But that's a lie.

Is this the end?
One day, inside the gym, I met a wannabe madman, failed, got shot.
Yeah. It's the end.
It ends.

Daily life always exists side-by-side with death.
It just happened to exchange "hello" greetings right next to me this time.

Aaaaaaahhh aaaahhh aaaah!

This time for sure, I'll jump off from life itself.
If this might be the very last lie…
I thought I'd try clinging to an impossibly difficult hope.

*If I die, Maa-chan will—*

***

**Later: "Until Now—From Now On"** 【T/N: This section shifts perspective to the Shooter during interrogation.】

And so, the play is over.
Ah, you mean *my* role.
No way do I see this whole thing as just some play.
I mean, if it was, there’d be no point.
Well, I couldn’t exactly leave behind much significant meaning, so the Ossan【T/N: The older accomplice.】 is probably unsatisfied.
But *I* had fun. I was happy.
That said… regrets… yeah, I have some.
If I could do it over, next time I’d show you I could kill Inazawa, at least.
But calls for an encore…
aren't likely to echo in this cramped room.
Well, duh. It’s obvious.
There’s no convenient reset button.
‘Cause this? This is reality, man.

Seriously, I don’t like Edase.【T/N: Mii-kun.】 Hated him since way back. I was jealous.
…Ah, talking about Edase doesn’t matter, right? Yeah, probably not.

So, the motive, huh… Alright, maybe I’ll answer with a serious face for just five seconds.
Special, peculiar, abnormal—call it whatever you want.
I wanted *that* in my everyday life. That’s the only reason.

…Still got questions? Look, there really isn’t anything more to it than that. You guys are persistent.

That Ossan? Like I said, he was just some guy I happened to know. Lived nearby, family owned some mountains or land, our hobbies kinda clicked. His objective was different from mine, but we agreed that doing it *that* way was the best method to achieve both our goals.

By the way, is that Ossan alive? Edase beat me nearly to death, too, you know. Ah, so, he *is* alive? Good for him. Hey, cut me some slack if I’m mumbling; my face is swollen, and talking wears me out.

Anyway, you over there—are you really a detective? What’s with that hair color? A slightly faded Super Saiyan?

Ah, the reason I chose gym class time? Easy. I hated that gym teacher. Something about the way he talked was so high-and-mighty, always repeating obvious stuff over and over. When he did that, class would run late, but he’d just keep gym going anyway. Cut into lunch break, made everyone late for the next period… seriously, I think everyone hated him. Also, the fact he was pretty popular with the girls was kind of a minus point, maybe—just kidding! But still, even in that, I wasn’t special… ah, just felt a pang of self-loathing. Anyway, since I hated him that much, I asked the Ossan to shoot him thoroughly. He’s alive? Hah, *still* alive? Amazing. Guess being a gym teacher really means he’s built tough. Getting shot that many times… maybe he just has strong bad luck. If he’s not gonna die, well, either way, it doesn’t change anything for me.