Chapter 6: Chapter 6

It is not unlikely that yesterday Akari Sannohiro had a prophetic dream. Why?

Well, currently she’s hiding her cute face behind some unknown person minding their own business on the bus. 

Yes, she hasn’t chosen an empty seat today.

Even if that may seem very random, I’m sure it’s not. 

She’s doing it for me! It’s an honour to always be inside your thoughts, Sannohiro-san!

Even if you’re doing this only because you can’t stand me at all and don’t want me to sit near you anymore!

After yesterday, I’m not planning to have a conversation with her anyway.

I’m waiting because it’s her turn. 

If this reality is even a little bit similar to the one I left behind in the previous world, she definitely will come up to me soon.

She has all the reasons to do so.

But for now, the most pressing matter is Miyuri, even if such a thing hurts to say. 

This afternoon, as usual, I’ll go to that hole they love to call ‘literature club’.

Ahh, I wonder what the great poets and writers, dead or alive, would think of such a place. They’re probably upset about how small and ignored it is.

I’ll then tell Miyuri her poem sucks.

Without even reading it in its entirety. It’s all part of the plan. 

I hope she can take criticism…!

Akari’s face is not like the one she had yesterday. 

Some small changes, huh.

Even if those are some changes that only a stalke— I mean, an acute observer, would be able to notice.

What am I talking about?

Well, her eyebrows are bent in a frown, her lips are red as if she bit them, eye bags are visible on her face.

Surely, everything that’s happened today took a toll on her. It’s sad but normal.

There’s no point in talking to her. Right now, I can’t make her happy — I can just make myself seem creepier.

Still, I can’t help but listen to nearby conversations now. I hope to find some hints about the relationship between Akari Sannohiro and her family.

It’s an interesting matter for sure, but one the game does not like talking about.

It’s one I can relate to.

“Today’s first class is Professor Cruel. I can’t even think of it without crying!”

Then, another sentence.

“But what happened to Tanarako-san? Before this week, she was just a cute and clumsy girl! Now, her face exudes confidence! She seems like another person…”

A loud and manly voice unexpectedly rolls through the red lines of the bus, as the latter moves with predictable slowness.

I’m not saying that because I’m a bad person… ahh, I’ll just stop saying it now. 

If the previous Sofia Tanarako actually hears me, she’ll be depressed and lonely by now. 

It’s no longer something I should care about.

Anyway, since no one knows her for real I’ll just pretend this was always her personality!

“So, you need a job, Sannohiro-san? But no job I could offer you can pay as much as you need. I’m sorry. It’s just too much money.”

Another sentence, a more useful one. So, she didn’t take a random spot. And it wasn’t to avoid me.

I don’t know if I should be happy or sad about it.

But it certainly makes sense.

-=-

“Honomako-san! There I am.”

As I enter the classroom, still empty outside of three or four people, I think back to yesterday.

Only the afternoon was very productive.

Another day, another uneventful morning.

All lessons have the same taste.

The only thing that can make me happy as I learn and pass through things I already know by now is the puppy face of Miyuri.

Yes, it’s unexpected. As she waits for me at the passage to my desk, I can only think of that.

I don’t know why, but yesterday I had a great impression on her. Maybe, it’s because I can relate to her problems.

Not that I mind, of course. It’s nice to see her care more about me.

I underestimated her as well. It’s a better person than I thought, and I feel like her apathy in the main game is more comprehensible.

More than anything, she seems like a deeply lonely person.

She has a literature club, but the other three people that are participating in it seem to be very far from her, physically and emotionally.

She didn’t have a desk mate before I arrived.

More than anything, she wants attention so much that she wants a brother like Akari’s. 

And that’s the worst type of attention a person can get! Come on!

Having considered all those things, it’s really simple to understand why she becomes almost apathetic during the original story.

She starts hating people because they leave her alone. She falls in love with Anais-san because the latter seems to care for her. 

That makes sense. I’ll be her sensei.

“I missed you!” Her cute eyes flicker like stars.

“I missed you too.” But not that much! Don’t hug me… don’t do it… no.

I have been overwhelmed by cuteness. I won’t survive another day.

“Yesterday I read a lot. I want to write poetry that you really like!”

“You’re gentle. I’m sure you’ll do it and even without having to read anything. 

You have the talent and you know what to speak of. You just need to convey it properly.”

The girl in front of me, along with her cute pink hair, still show an enthusiasm that’s very fake. But it’s not as fake as yesterday.

A day ago, her smile seemed artificial. But maybe it’s a coping system. 

Maybe, it’s the only way for her to leave the bed in the morning. I shouldn’t judge.

I don’t doubt that she has read a lot. Right now, I think of her as a child that wants to make her mother happy.

Even in my previous life, I was still too young to be a mother. Who would’ve thought that Sofia Tanarako emitted such a calming and familiar face?

“Who’s your favorite author?” Suddenly, Miyuri asks.

What? We were talking about something else.

What do I owe this pindaric leap to?

“Hard to say.” I mutter.

Well, that’s a lie. I’m my favorite writer.

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Once a person starts writing, they can’t stop judging themselves.

Even book written by others will be used as a comparison, even if only unconsciously.

Once you read a sentence, this effect makes you say: ‘I wouldn’t have used this word’, ‘Could I really have thought of this?’, ‘What a magnificent way to explain it! I wonder how I would have.’

That’s the negative part. You’ll also scream out ‘This could’ve been expressed way better,’ ‘I know how to make this sound greater’, ‘I have a better way with words than them’, or ‘their vocabulary is really limited.’

And this judgement almost always leads to two roads that are much of the same.

In your mind, you’re either the best or the worst writer. 

I’ve always liked my works. I’ve always felt like I could relate only to myself completely.

If I was alive right now, I’d like to find out if someone can see my words as I see them.

But I doubt it.

Everyone reads through the filter of their own experiences, that’s what makes some books special to some. 

Being able to relate to them uniquely.

“Who’s the best writer, then?”

The same question, asked differently.

“That’s also a difficult question. Many love Dostoevskij and Tolstoj, during these times.”

“Why them? And who’s better out of the two?”

Miyuri asks me, her curiosity seemingly never-ending today. 

I hope the professor will come as soon as possible! The girl next to me is posing questions as if she was the Sphinx.

“Because in that period, Russia, to many, touched the highest literature possible.

Don’t ask me why, I don’t believe it.”

I smile. Maybe it’s also because of the language barrier, but I think it’s not the case.

To be honest, the concepts of ‘highest literature possible’ and ‘best writer’ are both flawed. 

But an innocent question made by a cute girl doesn’t call for such a lengthy talk.

“After all, think of it like this. There are some who believe that the perfect book is ‘War and Peace’ by Tolstoj, there are some who believe it’s ‘Brothers Karamazov’ by Dostoevskij.

Being put in front of two books like that, two sublime books, would you be able to objectively judge the best one?

And, just because some works are believed to be sublime by more people than others, doesn’t mean that works are not sublime.

Remember that there’ll always be a person who likes a book or a poem, no matter what.”

“I see. Well… I just wanted to know what you usually read…”

“Yesterday I was reading a play, which was transcribed and translated. It’s called ‘Little Eyolf’, and it talks about two parents that are so busy fighting that they don’t notice their son, who they wish wasn’t born, is dead.”

That’s… a very creative read on my end. But it serves its purpose.

Miyuri looks at me in awe, she gulps for a second, then gets back to her seat and no longer asks questions for a second.

Is she surprised that I knew before she showed me her poem?

Then, she turns over and looks at me again, as if she’s done thinking. Sorry, did I go too far?

“Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts.”

A door is closed.

“Sit down, everyone! I have entered, didn’t you notice?!”

And there is another side character of the game. One of the most annoying, without thinking twice.

I’m talking about Professor Miramura, which was often called in the class we’ll have in two years ‘Professor Cruel.’

Sometimes a name is enough to explain a person; this is the case.

As the developers, that of course were very creative, thought, this character is flat.

His only defining characteristic is to be as straight-up evil as possible. Professor Cruel, who nobody in the class can stand, is the cause of many mental breakdowns during high school.

In the future, the school president will deal with him. For now, we just have to suffer.

“Such insolence…! Just sit and be quiet! We’ll begin the lesson now!”

And then, as if his words were spoken on purpose to annoy the students, who were already quiet, he randomly sniffs the air.

Voices of complaint can be barely heard. They are scared. It’s obvious…. poor students.

“I was sure of it! You, Sannohiro-san, are just a disobedient and dirty girl! You haven’t changed that shirt for two days!”

A bomb explodes. And its noise is a squeaky voice.

“I remember it yesterday, and when I saw you outside the other day you also had it! And you never changed it!

And you didn’t even come to school for ten days! Do you think what you’re doing is normal?

You’re disgusting!”

And there’s another attack, a well thought and precise one, from Prof Cruel, who hits Akari Sannohiro.

“If tomorrow you have the same shirt, I’ll get you out of this school.”

“But… I don’t have any o-oth—“

The purple-haired girl speaks up, but is stopped again by that same squeaky voice.

The red-haired man with round eyeglasses and a smirk, watching her with an ugly expression that suits his disheveled foliage and angular face, laughs loudly and shows a resounding disgust.

“You’ve got all the money you need to buy one…! I know your father well.”

“That’s fine. Tomorrow the shirt will be different.”

After having said that, Akari seems defeated. She no longer speaks.

Everyone can hear her sigh and squirm inside of her lonely seat, while Professor Cruel begins his lesson.

It makes sense why she’d hate this place and everyone.

This is unbelievable.

If her face this morning, for how sad and defeated it seemed, still had a sliver of hope, it now seems hard to see the light in the abyss.

I suppose that, if Sannohiro-san wants to keep staying outside of her house, she’ll need a few shirts to change. How could she only bring one?

And — if I recall — she’ll also need a house, because she’s living in a hotel, I suppose. That’s why any money from a job won’t be enough.

I could give her all those things. I could make her live in my house, and I could also give her as much clothing as she desires. 

But her lack of trust blocks me.

I’m glad she hasn’t cried.

Otherwise, I’d have to do something. Would I really be able to stop myself in that case?

But it’s also not a good thing. She’s repressing so many emotions…

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

I’ll get you crawling to me if needed.

But I’ll get you to ask me for help.

Meanwhile, let’s see…

Miyuri-san, what have you written for me?

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