Takamatsu Tomori walked into Ring II and ordered a dozen beers, drinking alone in a private booth.
Beyond the partition, a row of counter seats ran along the bar — the usual spots where middle-aged salarymen would slump after their shifts and pour out their miserable lives to no one in particular. Tomori had no patience for that tonight.
By the time the tenth beer went down, she thought she could see Yoshiiro Chiose standing right in front of her.
The figure was radiant and full of youth. She was only twenty-two this year.
Twenty-two...
"Hey hey hey! Tomori! Tomori! Are you okay?! Pull yourself together!"
Chiose bent forward, waving her ghostly little hand back and forth in front of Tomori's face.
"Chiose?!"
"It's me! Are you feeling down?! If there's someone you hate, just wipe them out! If it's all too much trouble, you can always reset and start over! We'll go down together!"
Chiose plopped herself down beside Tomori with her usual carefree swagger, pulling a dramatically exaggerated scary face.
"Right — yeah! Life is no big deal, when you get down to it!" Tomori's vision was going blurry; she couldn't make out Chiose's face anymore.
So tired. She hadn't slept properly in days.
"Looks like you're feeling better already — great! In that case..."
Chiose's figure slowly faded. It had only ever been a drunken hallucination, after all.
Tomori reached out, trying desperately to hold on — but what had never truly been hers could never be held, no matter how hard she tried.
"Huh? Don't go — Chiose... please don't go."
Yoshiiro Chiose, wearing Tomori's pajamas, gently cupped Takamatsu Tomori's cheek in her hand.
Those warm, rose-pink eyes were more intoxicating than any drink.
"I appeared because I love you — but I'm nothing more than a hallucination. Don't keep drinking, Tomori. Please stop thinking about me."
"Don't — don't make me come back to my senses! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry — if only I had made up my mind sooner, if only I had kept that promise, if only, if only... please don't do this. Without you, I..."
Tomori stared at the empty air in front of her, mind gone completely blank.
She pulled the tab on a new can of beer. Her lips moved, opening and closing with great effort.
"I just... want to see you again."
...
Today is the first weekend since Yoshiiro Chiose passed away.
Thinking back to when Chiose and I first met — we'd drink at Ring II and walk home together, then order the cheapest bulgogi rice bowl on the menu, two hundred yen, and steam a pot of plain rice in the rice cooker at home. We'd tip the whole bulgogi rice bowl right in.
Drizzle on the dressing, stir everything together hard with a spoon until it was all mixed in — the savory richness of the grilled meat melting into the sweet creaminess of the mayo dressing, perfectly blended.
That was the happiest moment of the whole week.
I remember a few weeks later, Chiose and I performed on stage at Ring for the very first time. It went smoothly — it all felt so weightless and dreamy, over before I even realized it.
She picked me up and spun me around, told me I sang beautifully, that I could be someone's salvation. She even gave me a little cake for my birthday. I remember thinking I was the happiest person alive in that moment — happier even than the feeling of eating bulgogi rice after a night of drinking.
Today marks one week since Chiose left this world. I ordered a bulgogi rice bowl. It was very good.
The julienned carrot and potato strips were cut so fine, and they'd been pickled — a nice touch. The roasted eggplant on the side was an unexpected combination.
Flavors I'd never tasted before.
Apparently you can choose your own side dishes with bulgogi rice. Chiose always did the ordering before — she never told me there were options like that. The Korean fried chicken I ordered separately was still piping hot when it arrived; it must have tasted wonderful.
I watched the other customers' orders going out — some bulgogi rice bowls came with mayo dressing, some didn't. It seemed random.
I spent a long time deciding, then chose the Korean fried chicken and the bulgogi rice, and hoped mine would come with the dressing. It didn't.
I should have said something to the server — but I worried they'd find me annoying, that I'd be a bother. I can't stand the idea of someone disliking me.
My birthday was less than a month ago. Chiose has been gone for seven days now. And the bulgogi rice still didn't come with the mayo dressing.
...Oh well.
————
"Ending on a best friend's death is too conventional — not bold enough, lacking that touch of the fantastical."
When the simulation ended, Yoshiiro Chiose slowly opened her eyes.
She looked up at the ceiling and offered her verdict.
For now… it was still that same afternoon. She was sitting on the sofa with her little sister Haizuka Kyoumoto in her arms, the midday sun blazing outside.
That sun looked like it would never set.
"But it'll do, I suppose."
[Congratulations, Host. You have once again manufactured an unfortunate life for Takamatsu Tomori. You are beginning to settle into your role — the rawness of inexperience is fading. While analysis of your methods indicates you have not yet achieved full extraction of the subject's remaining value, your progress compared to last time is considerable. Additionally, Host has recognized the limitations of going it alone and has begun coordinating with the System — an exceptionally rare development, and one worthy of commendation.]
[Calculating Regret Index… Congratulations, Host. Lifespan awarded: four years exactly.]
[Remaining Lifespan: five years and twenty-nine days.]
[Overall Rating: Average.]
"Haah…"
It was over.
Three months in the simulation. One second in the real world.
That waking dream she would never forget — it was over, just like that.
Chiose let her mind go blank. The little sister nestled in her arms let out the tiniest, most adorable little snore.
That was a life. Only a fragment of one, maybe — but memories don't lie…
"What was I doing right before my nap…"
Getting up. Taking care of her sister. Oh… right. She'd had a brief encounter with the neighbor, Sakiko Togawa.
"System, what happened to Tomori after…"
[To answer Host: the System does not know. A simulation is only a simulation — after the Host's death within it, the projection only runs forward ten years. In other words, I don't know either. Her final chapter may have been beautiful. It may have been wretched. But does it really matter… who cares?]
"..."
Takamatsu Tomori…
You absolutely have to live well for me, you hear?
I hope you can carry that one month of fleeting encouragement with you, and find your own way to live.
"Be happy — my big sister."
...
The Takamatsu apartment. Tomori's bedroom.
"No… no… please, no!"
Takamatsu Tomori had only taken an afternoon nap, and she nearly didn't make it back to consciousness.
"Uwuu… another one… such a long, long dream."
She was soaked through — top and bottom — in sweat. It had drenched the sheets completely, and her pillow felt like it could be wrung out.
Covering one eye with her hand, Tomori gazed up at the ceiling through exhausted, pomegranate-red eyes.
In the dream…
The little angel who had been her younger sister just yesterday had become her junior today.
They drank together. Played music together. And in the end, the other girl was murdered by a random killer — all because Tomori had broken a promise.
"Ah… ah!"
What happened after that — what happened?!
Why did a perfectly good life just shatter like that?!
"It's my fault… I did something wrong…"
If only she'd been a little braver. Just a few more steps forward, and everything would have been okay!
Eating bulgogi rice alone — god, could anything be more miserable!
Takamatsu Tomori thrashed around in her bed, and on the final roll, she tumbled right off the edge.
Her body hit the floor hard, but Tomori seemed impervious to the pain. She kept muttering in a broken, breathless stream:
"I'm sorry… I… you were always trying to teach me how to live as myself, and I was still a coward — why did it end up like this, uwuuwuu…"
It was just a dream.
But why did a dream feel so utterly, devastatingly real…
More than yesterday's dream — the one where her little sister fell to her death — this one tore Tomori apart even more completely.
"Hah… hah…"
Lying on the floor, she turned over. Tomori's sobbing showed no sign of stopping.
"After that… after that it was just day after day of drowning in drink, I never became anyone's savior, I failed Sakiko… I couldn't do it at all… I I I uwuuwuuwuuwuu…"
Why did my life suddenly become such a complete failure.
Everything was getting better. Everything was…
"Tomori? Are you alright? I thought I heard something crash?"
Tomori had fallen from the top bunk. The big body pillow she'd kicked off last night was there on the floor to break her fall — but the bruises spreading across her arm were proof that she was not, in fact, alright.
"I — I'm fine…"
Saying that while clearly on the verge of tears was not remotely convincing!
Takamatsu Hikaru pushed open the door with a look of deep concern and wrapped her arms around Takamatsu Tomori, who was trembling and convulsing on the floor.
"Tomori! What's wrong, are you okay?"
Not even a little. Not even a little…
"I… uwuu, Mama…"
"I had such a long, long nightmare… it was really so long."
It started as a beautiful dream! It was a beautiful dream! Why did it turn into a nightmare at the end… why did it have to go like this!
The final scene of the dream: a middle-aged Takamatsu Tomori, sitting alone in a bar on the verge of closing down for good. Her memories from her mid-twenties to her forties and fifties were hazy — almost nonexistent.
That was probably connected to her spending every day after Sakiko's death drinking herself into a stupor.
At the dream's end, an Alcohol Lamp no longer young sat cradling a beer — the brand no longer legible — and drank alone.
She spoke to the empty air in a voice drenched in regret and bitterness.
[Why did my Sakiko… she died…]
[If parallel worlds exist — did the Yoshiiro Chiose of some other Takamatsu Tomori also pass away? Was I the only one… who hesitated? Impossible. It can't be. It wouldn't be like that — why is it that in other parallel worlds Yoshiiro Chiose is still alive, and only my Sakiko is gone?]
[If parallel worlds exist… if that other Takamatsu Tomori is still young… then all I can do is bless you and curse you at the same time. I bless you — may you and Chiose become friends for life. The moment you meet her, there's no escaping it. It's fate…]
[And if you are the younger version of me — and if you happen to be standing at a crossroads, unsure which way to go — then I curse you.]
[I curse you to repeat my mistakes. I curse you to end up just like me… unable to move forward for the rest of your life… I truly, truly despise the version of myself that was young. I'm sorry…]
"Uwuu… waaah… Mama…"
Clinging tight to Takamatsu Hikaru's shoulders, Tomori suddenly broke into even louder, more desperate sobs.
"There, there — Mama's here, Mama's right here."
Her mother's voice was as gentle as ever, but that gentleness could not soothe a crying Takamatsu Tomori.
There was a hollow feeling in her chest. Like something was missing… what was missing?
"Mama… I think… I might never be able to forget her again…"
"Hm? What was that?"
Takamatsu Hikaru blinked, bewildered. She sensed things might be slightly beyond her area of expertise.
Was her daughter… in love?
"That's wonderful, Tomori — Mama was about your age when she fell in love too, actually, ahem ahem…"
"Huh? Mama! So you also… uwuuwuuwuu…"
So Mama also accidentally got her best friend killed when she was young?! Uwuu, could this be genetic?!
"Yes — it was the summer before high school. I met…"
Hikaru had been about to say she met Takamatsu Yuji, but Tomori's sobbing cut her off.
"Uwuuwuuwuu, Mama, I… I feel so awful, even though it was only a…"
You were only a dream — so why were you so unbearably real!
————
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