Inou-Battle wa Nichijou-kei no Naka de - Volume 2 - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Cyclical——Regression

Takanashi Sayumi’s power, Route of Origin, granted her the ability to return anything to the way it’s meant to be. The one and only condition for its use: she had to first touch the subject in question.

When you really think about it, though, “the way that something is meant to be” is a pretty darn abstract concept. Determining how something is meant to be, as far as I can tell, is totally impossible from any sort of objective perspective. It stands to reason, then, that Route of Origin’s definition of the way something is meant to be was based purely upon Sayumi’s own subjective perception of reality. There’s no other way it could possibly work, really.

In other words, how Sayumi perceived the things she observed—how she perceived the world itself—was profoundly connected to the function of her ability. She could only heal injuries if she believed that the human body was meant to be healthy and whole. She could only repair a broken object if she believed that object was meant to exist in the state it was in before it was destroyed.

She had a certain degree of control over the process, to be clear. If she were presented with a torn notebook, for instance, she was capable of both returning it to a brand new, fresh-off-the-shelf state and also returning it to the wood that had been used to manufacture the notebook in the first place. My best guess is that in her mind, both of those states counted on some level as the way that it was meant to be. That’s what it always boiled down to: on a fundamental level, her view of the world trumped all.

That raised some interesting questions, and at one point, I decided to ask her one of them. “So,” I said, “what if you decided that humanity was a blight upon the planet Earth? If you managed to convince yourself that the way the Earth was meant to be didn’t include people, would you be able to wipe out the whole human race by just touching the ground?”

I was mostly kidding, of course. Sayumi sighed as she replied.

“I’d never develop an opinion as infantile as that in the first place. The thought that humanity poses a threat to the Earth is in and of itself a perfect example of humanity’s persistent self-importance. We’re too prone to forgetting that we ourselves are nothing more than one part of the Earth’s ecosystem, and get the mistaken, arrogant idea in our heads that we’re somehow separate from the totality of it all. I certainly believe that protecting and preserving the beauty of our environment is important, don’t get me wrong, but even that—the concept of ‘beauty’—is based solely upon our uniquely human sense of values. That’s something I couldn’t forget, even if I wanted to.”

It was a thoroughly informative sermon, as I’d learned to expect from Sayumi, but there was one tiny detail that I couldn’t help but catch: she never actually said that she couldn’t do it. And when you really sit down and think about that fact, the implications are horrifying. I realized that Route of Origin’s true, terrible potential may very well surpass even the limits of my imagination.

“Mnh, ’m sweepy...”

“I’m very sorry about this, Chifuyu. We would have preferred not to wake you up, if at all possible.”

“Mnh, ’s okay, Sayumi. If Hatoko needs me, I can do it.”

The sun had long since set, and we’d made our way to a nearby residential district. Specifically, we were standing before the Himeki household. Chifuyu was dressed in her pajamas, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and carrying Squirrely under one arm. Apparently, she used the plushie as an improvised hugging pillow.

Sayumi had a plan, and pulling it off required Chifuyu to be present. We never would’ve dragged her out of her house at that time of night otherwise. It was around nine o’clock at that point, and bringing a grade schooler out into the night at that hour was a patently absurd proposal. Further complicating matters was the fact that we couldn’t even begin to explain the circumstances to her parents, not to mention the fact that she was already off in dreamland by the time we’d arrived.

Thankfully, we had Closed Clock on our side. The operation was the picture of simplicity. First, I went up to Chifuyu’s house and rang the doorbell. The moment one of her parents came to answer the door, Tomoyo stopped time and slipped inside. She made her way to Chifuyu’s room, scooped her up (Squirrely and all), and brought her outside. Mission accomplished, just like that.

And yeah, okay, technically it was totally kidnapping on our part, but this was a state of emergency! Cut us some slack! Anyway, we took a moment to explain the situation to her, and Chifuyu enthusiastically told us to leave it to her.

“Mnh. Done,” she said, holding out a hand. A black circle appeared in the air before her—a different shade of black than the nighttime scenery around us. She’d used World Create to generate a warp in space-time. “It goes to the literary club’s room.”

“Thanks, Chifuyu! We owe you one!” I exclaimed.

“We should hurry,” added Sayumi. “Otherwise, her parents might realize that their daughter is missing.”

“Ugh... I swear I’ll never get used to jumping into these Gates...” grumbled Tomoyo.

“It’s not that hard. It just feels normal after a while,” said Chifuyu.

And so, the four of us stepped through the portal. Our school had closed up for the night quite a while back, incidentally. We didn’t have the skills to sneak past the guard or deal with the building’s security system, so the only way for us to make it into our club room was to have Chifuyu teleport us there. Of course, that wasn’t the only reason why we went to the trouble of dragging her out of bed.

A strange sort of floating sensation came over me as I passed through the Gate, and an instant later, we were standing in the dark, unlit club room. I’d never been there at that time of night before, and the walls that felt so familiar during the daytime came across as anything but in the darkness.

“I would recommend against turning the light on, Tomoyo,” said Sayumi.

“Ah, right, duh! Sorry,” Tomoyo replied. She’d been reaching out toward the light switch, but quickly pulled her hand back.

“Thankfully, we’ve been blessed with a beautiful moon tonight. Even without the lights on, I don’t imagine we’ll have any difficulties,” Sayumi added with a faint smile that I could just barely make out thanks to the moonlight shining through the window. It made her expression look almost mystical, somehow.

“Sayumi...are you really sure about this?” I asked, unable to contain myself. “You really think you can pull it off? I get the theory and all, but if this works, it’ll be a downright miracle.”

“Perhaps, but if I fail, that just means that we’ll have to try awakening your power next. Don’t worry. If it comes to that, I won’t stop you.”

I fell into silence.

“That said,” added Sayumi, “I believe the odds of my success aren’t bad at all.”

The four of us sat around the table, just like we always did. Just like usual.

“Now then, allow me to take attendance. Please respond when I call your name,” said Sayumi. Her voice projected with the clear, formal authority of her position. She was in club president mode. “Kanzaki Tomoyo.”

“Here.”

“Andou Jurai.”

“Here.”

“Himeki Chifuyu.”

“Here.”

“Kushikawa Hatoko.”

Needless to say, no reply came. Sayumi’s voice echoed through the room in vain.

“Oh, dear. Is Hatoko absent today, perhaps? That won’t do at all. The forty-fourth generation of Senkou High School’s literary club simply isn’t complete without all five of us present... Indeed, if even one of us is missing, then our club is not the way it’s meant to be.”

Sayumi raised both hands up to the level of her chest, silently bringing them together as if she was grasping the air between them—touching the atmosphere of the room itself, touching the very concept of the Senkou High literary club.

“And, in that case...let us return things to the way they’re meant to be.”

And so, with her characteristic lack of flair, Sayumi activated her power. She attempted to return a concept to its natural state of being.

This was the new method of using Route of Origin that she’d come up with. We’d always talked her power up, saying that it could restore anything, but when all was said and done, she’d never actually used it on anything without physical form. I hadn’t even considered the possibility, really, so when Sayumi described her plan to me, I was seriously shocked.

Sneaking into the literary club’s room and bringing Chifuyu with us were all for the sake of completing the picture. We needed to be in the right place, and we needed the right members present. The image had to be strong and all but whole, lacking only the presence of Kushikawa Hatoko to bring it to completion.

“Route of Origin’s next stage...” I whispered, very nearly trembling with awe. Sayumi’s power had indeed surpassed my imagination by leaps and bounds, and I was so amazed I couldn’t possibly hide my delight. “Route of Origin: Ouroboros’s Circle.”

“Andou, I’m trying to concentrate. Please be quiet,” snapped Sayumi, shooting a glare in my direction.

Just a moment later, a faint glow began to manifest in the single empty seat remaining in the room.

No way... Is it actually working? Did we actually manage to summon Hatoko right to us from who knows where? Has the literary club returned to the way it’s meant to be?

Finally, Sayumi lowered her hands and let out a sigh of relief. “I believe we can consider this a success. Heh! I’m surprised how simple it was when I put my mind to it, actually.”

As she spoke, the light—fainter than the moonlight, even—faded away, revealing the silhouette of a girl laid out on the table. She was perfectly still, but I could hear the regular rhythm of her breathing.

“Hatoko!” I shouted, springing up from my chair and dashing over to her. She was still wearing her apron, and her feet were a mess. She must’ve lost both her slippers somewhere along the way as well. “Hey, Hatoko! Wake up! Hatoko!”

“Mnhh... Mnah?” she mumbled as she stirred. “Mmngh... Five more minutes...”

“This is no time for stupid clichés, Hatoko!”

“Mmngh... Five more light-years...”

“Light-years measure distance, not time... Wait, quit making me sound like the Jr. Trainer from the Pewter City Gym!”

“Hmmnhg... Oh, it’s Juu. Morning.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Yeah... Huh?!”

Hatoko finally achieved consciousness and sat up with a start. I, meanwhile, was relieved. Oh, good. She really was just asleep.

“What? Wait, wha, huh?! Where am I?! Th-The club room? And why’re you here, Juu? Wait, everyone’s here...? Huuuh?”

“I have so many questions...” I sighed. “First off, where were you? What on earth have you been doing this whole time?”

“Oh, umm,” Hatoko mumbled, “I ran until I got tired, and there was this nice young man with an eyepatch, but then he got really scary, and there was something about an Evil Eye, and then I felt really heavy, then really light, then really sleepy, and then suddenly, a bunch of his friends showed up all around me...”

“What does any of that mean? Are you still half asleep?”

“N-No, I’m awake...but...huh? Huuuh? Was it...all just a dream? Maybe I just fell asleep on the riverbank and never even realized it...?”

Hatoko looked more than a little worried as she sank into thought. I still wanted to know what she’d been doing all evening, of course, but I couldn’t bring myself to care that much in the heat of the moment. I was so happy to see her safe and sound that nothing else mattered to me.

“B-But why am I here?” asked Hatoko. “How did that happen?”

“Oh, that was Sayumi’s work,” I explained. “Her power’s reached its next stage. It’s all thanks to Route of Origin: Ouroboros’s Circle!”

“Ou-Ouroboros? Umm, that’s the hungry hungry snake that eats its own tail, I think?”

“What?! No! The Ouroboros doesn’t eat its tail because it’s hungry!”

“Huh? Then, did it bite it by accident? What a klutzy little snakey!”

“No, no, no! The Uroboros isn’t a klutz! It’s not like some stupid dog that chases its own tail!”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really! In ancient Greek, Ouroboros translates to ‘tail-eating serpent,’ and its act of self-consumption is a symbol that represents life and rebirth, beginnings and endings, a complete, transcendent existence, the cycle of eternity, and, uhh...a bunch of other stuff too! Anyway, the point is it’s not just a snake—it’s a hella cool snake!”

“Hmm. I don’t think I really get it!”

“Sheesh, you never—”

At that point, both of our mouths snapped shut. We’d finally remembered the argument that had led to our parting, and suddenly the whole situation felt incredibly awkward. It had only been a matter of hours since that spectacular meltdown, and yet there we were, acting as if nothing whatsoever was out of the ordinary. It was almost laughable.

In fact, it was laughable, and it wasn’t long before we couldn’t hold it in anymore and both of us devolved into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Eventually, I composed myself enough to look her in the eye.

“Hey, Hatoko? Sorry.” For all sorts of things, really.

“Wha? N-No, don’t say that! I’m sorry! I’m the one who started screaming at you out of nowhere, and I never even finished making dinner...”

“It’s fine, really. That doesn’t matter at all.”

“And I lost your slippers too...”

“That doesn’t matter either. It was all my fault, anyway. It always has been...”

“No, it’s mine! You didn’t do anything wrong. It was all in my head, really...”

And with that, the pleasant, genial atmosphere did a one-eighty and landed right back in the awkward zone. We had so much to say to each other, but neither of us had any idea how to go about saying it.

“Hey, uhh, guys? I have something to tell you,” said Tomoyo, her voice slicing right through the uncomfortable haze that was descending upon us. I looked over to find that she was blushing, and considering how dark it was in the room, the fact that I could tell must’ve meant that she was really full-on flushed. “I’m trying to be a light novel author.”

Huh? Where the hell did that come from? She picked now, of all times, to drop that bombshell on everyone? And isn’t that literally the exact phrase she said would make her look like a moron earlier today?

While I was bewildered, Tomoyo kept talking, rattling off an explanation at a mile a minute. “That’s why I couldn’t write anything for the light novel exercise we did today. Since writing light novels is my dream, I ended up putting all sorts of pressure on myself, and I couldn’t follow through at all. I’ve kept quiet about it up until now since I wanted to tell you guys after I’d actually written something worthwhile, but I changed my mind just now!”

“You’re going to be a writer, Tomoyo?” asked Chifuyu, looking up at Tomoyo with a spark of unmistakable interest in her gaze.

“Ah, no, I mean...I wouldn’t exactly say I’m going to be one? I just want to be one, that’s all...”

“Tomoyo, you’re amazing!” The sparkle in Chifuyu’s eyes grew into a shining beacon of esteem.

“U-Ugh...” Meanwhile, Tomoyo turned an even deeper shade of red and looked away. The look on her face spoke volumes. Specifically, it was saying something to the tune of “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell anyone!”

Tomoyo took a deep breath, then she glanced over at me for just a moment. “Some stuff happened, and Andou ended up finding out about my writing the other day.” Next, she turned to look at Hatoko. “But I basically suck at it, and I ended up asking him to stay behind after school today to give me some advice. That’s really all there was to it, Hatoko.”

“Oh...okay. Is that all?”

Hatoko paused to let out a quick sigh of relief, and Tomoyo smiled. There was still an oddly sad feeling to the atmosphere between them, though. I hadn’t really picked up on the nuance to their exchange, so I wasn’t entirely clear what they’d just communicated with each other.

“But anyway,” said Hatoko after a moment, “you want to be a writer, Tomoyo? I had no idea!”

“I actually knew, as it so happens,” chimed in Sayumi.

“Bwah?!” Tomoyo shrieked. “Wh-What? Y-You knew...?”

“Yes, I’ve known for quite a long while. Frankly, Tomoyo, you’re very easy to read.”

I think you’re just too good at reading people, Sayumi. Way too good.

“W-Well, you could’ve said something...” mumbled Tomoyo.

“I was hoping that you would open up about it yourself. That’s why I chose such a strange theme for today’s activity, actually. I thought it would present a good opportunity for you to tell us,” said Sayumi with a tone of perfect nonchalance. This time, she caught all of us by surprise.

“Seriously? That was all part of a plan for you?” I asked in disbelief.

“Of course. I wouldn’t choose a theme as difficult as ‘light novels’ if I didn’t have some specific goal in mind, after all. It’s far too abstract for that sort of creative exercise.”

I mean, yeah, but still—seriously...? I was thoroughly dumbfounded, and I resolved to always assume that everything Sayumi did was motivated by some sort of specific intent, no matter how random it seemed.

“All that said, of course, my plan failed spectacularly,” she added with a self-deprecating chuckle.

I was starting to understand why she and Tomoyo had come running the second they realized something was up. Both of them felt a degree of responsibility for Hatoko’s disappearance, most likely. I, meanwhile, was the one who should’ve felt far and away the most responsibility for all of it.

“Hatoko?” I said, once again turning to face my childhood friend. “So, umm...I know this probably doesn’t come through most of the time, but I really appreciate you.”

“Huh...?”

“You’re always there for me, and you give me a lot more emotional support than you know. I can’t count how many times you being there to listen to me, and enjoy listening to me, has really made a difference for me. It always makes me happy when you try to understand the things I tell you about.”

Hatoko looked down at her feet and didn’t say anything, so I kept going.

“Like back in our second year of middle school. I seriously don’t think I’d have lived through that if you hadn’t been there for me.”

Hatoko continued to hang her head. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room, and before long, my awkward bashfulness got the better of me and I opened my mouth again.

“So, like, y’know...I’m sure I’m gonna keep saying a ton of stuff you don’t understand from now on, but still...I’d like to...st-stay...”

Hoooly crap, is it just me, or am I saying something incredibly embarrassing right now? Gah, it’s no use! I can’t take it!

“Mwa ha ha!” I bellowed maniacally, giving in and dauntlessly cracking a grin. The most assertive—and most shameless—side of my personality had taken the wheel.

“Your place in this world is not before me, nor is it behind me! We walk a road untrodden, fraught with dangers and riddled with briars! Though towering heaps of corpses may bar our path, to climb over them and continue our endless journey is our fate! But to travel this path of carnage and brutality alone is a task too daunting for even one such as myself. Thus, I have need of a companion!”

I turned to Hatoko and held a hand out toward her.

“I want you to travel this road by my side, Hatoko! I have need of you!”

Well, that was... I mean, it was certainly an extremely me way of putting it, in the end. Tomoyo and Sayumi were both rolling their eyes and sighing in a way that just screamed “Why did he have to take it in that direction...?” Chifuyu, meanwhile, had fallen asleep at some point while we weren’t paying attention to her.

Hatoko, on the other hand, just stared at me in a daze. Then, finally, she beamed.

“Yeah, okay!” she said, her smile as bright and vivid as a newly bloomed flower. It was the sort of smile I loved seeing on her—the sort of smile that suited her best. Hatoko took my hand and squeezed it tightly.

“Your hand’s kinda warm, Juu!”

“Hmm? Mwa ha ha—of course it is! After all, the stygian flame of Purgatory, Dark and Dark dwells within my right arm!”

“No, that’s not it,” said Hatoko, gently shaking her head. “It’s warm because it’s your hand!”

And so, the two of us made up. It wasn’t like anything had been resolved, or like anything had even changed. We’d simply reaffirmed what we’d already known: that I could be myself, and she could be herself, and that was fine. Maybe our relationship was unnatural, maybe it wasn’t, but regardless, I was confident that we’d carry it on for a long while to come. And though there was no telling what might happen in the long term, somehow, I didn’t particularly mind that fact.

And so, Hatoko and I finally unbuttoned the shirt that was our relationship...only to button it right back up the wrong way again.