Runa Shinomiya Won't Yield: The Final Boss's Conviction - The Blade of Silence: The Shape of Loneliness Perceived by One Who Understands

The sun had set, and the lights of the city were beginning to flicker on one by one. 　Shinomiya Runa was walking alone through a quiet residential neighborhood somewhere in Tokyo. Her destination: the Vspo House, "Purple Nest." A share house used by the members for training camps and collabs. About fifteen minutes on foot from Runa's home. Normally, it was a distance she'd cover without a second thought, but today her steps were just a little heavy. 　(It's been a while since I've been there.) 　Three days had passed since the event notification email arrived. Two days ago, she'd attended the management's regular meeting and exchanged words with Tamura Mitsuko for the first time. That day, behind her smile, Mitsuko had eyes that seemed to peer into Runa's mask. And after the meeting, Runa had returned home, launched Project Endgame, and finalized her first target. 　Everything was proceeding smoothly. 　Runa pulled the front of her light purple cardigan closed and shrank her small frame as if to shield herself from the night wind. At one hundred forty-seven centimeters, she looked even more delicate under the streetlights. Beneath her perfectly straight bangs, her yellow eyes quietly fixed on the path ahead. 　(Today, I'm meeting A.) 　Kurumi Noa. Her childhood friend, and the only person to whom Runa had confessed her true self on a winter day in the second year of middle school. 　Runa still remembered that day clearly. The way home, pushing their bicycles side by side. The cold wind blowing. Runa had confessed from her own mouth—that she observed people, collected data, and predicted their movements. A had cried. Even so, she'd said she wanted to stay by Runa's side. 　But the silence that followed destroyed everything. 　Thirty-seven seconds. If not for that silence, maybe she could have remained an ordinary girl. Runa had thought about it countless times. And each time, she felt something inside her freeze, hardening. 　(Today, I'll talk to A. What is A planning to say to me?) 　Runa considered why she was now heading to Purple Nest. The management had contacted her—Mitsuko, the house manager, had invited her to come have some tea. There was no reason to refuse. And she'd heard A would be there too. 　(Rather, this works in my favor.) 　Runa had been thinking she needed to properly face her childhood friend once more. A was the greatest uncertainty in her plan. What A knew, what A was thinking—she needed to confirm it. 　Runa stood before the gate of the house. 　Purple Nest was a subdued two-story detached home. The outer walls were a pale cream color, and small potted plants lined the entrance. Beside the nameplate was a small plate bearing the Vspo! logo. Soundproofed, 5LDK. A place like a secret base where members gathered for training camps and collab streams. 　Runa pressed the intercom. 　A few seconds later, the front door opened. 　"Oh my, Runa-chan. Welcome. You came all this way." 　The one who appeared was Tamura Mitsuko. Her short, dark brown hair mixed with white was neatly combed, and her soft, crescent-shaped eyes narrowed in a smile. Fifty-eight years old. The manager of the Vspo House, and a former voice actress. Her voice carried well, but now it was gentle, with the reassuring warmth of a mother in her own home. 　"Good evening, Mitsuko-san. Excuse me for intruding." 　Runa responded with a flawless healing-type smile. The left corner of her mouth rose just a fraction of a second faster than the right. 　"Come, come, step inside. Noa-chan is already here too. She's preparing tea in the Japanese-style room." 　Mitsuko gently pressed a hand to Runa's back, guiding her into the house. 　She removed her shoes at the entrance and changed into slippers. As she walked down the hallway, the scent of tatami mats tickled her nose. The shoji screen of the Japanese-style room was open, and bright light spilled out from within. 　"Runa, over here." 　Kurumi Noa was sitting in front of the low table. 　Her black hair, in loose, wavy long locks, was braided and gathered into one today. Her deep brown eyes gazed gently toward Runa. Her height: one hundred sixty-two centimeters. Fifteen centimeters taller than Runa. Around her left wrist was an old leather friendship bracelet. The same one as Runa's—a faded, child-sized matching pair. 　Every time Runa saw that bracelet, something deep in her chest stirred, just slightly. 　"It's been a while. Have you been well?" 　A's voice was low and calm, speaking as if in a whisper. Only when she said Runa's name did her voice tremble, just a little. 　"Yeah. I'm glad you look well too, Noa." 　Runa sat across from A. On the low table were two white teacups and a small plate of ohagi. 　"I made these. You liked anko, right, Runa? There are two kinds—coarse red bean paste and kinako. Please, eat." 　A smiled, looking a little embarrassed. 　"Wow, thank you. They look delicious." 　Runa picked up one of the ohagi. She chose the kinako one. A sweet fragrance reached her nose. She bit into it, and the soft texture of the glutinous rice and the roasted aroma of the kinako spread through her mouth. 　"Delicious. I really do love the ohagi you make, Noa." 　This was not a lie. Runa had genuinely loved the sweets A made, ever since they were children. 　A narrowed her eyes happily. 　"I'm glad. Mitsuko-san said she'd brew some tea. She's boiling water right now." 　Just then, from the direction of the kitchen, the whistle of a kettle sounded. 　"Sorry for the wait, sorry for the wait. I'll pour the tea now." 　Mitsuko's voice came from the far end of the hallway. 　For a while, a quiet time flowed through the Japanese-style room. 　Outside the window, the wind swayed the trees. In the distance, the faint sound of a train running could be heard. 　Runa, slowly savoring her ohagi, observed A. 　(A has something she wants to talk about.) 　A's gaze wavered from time to time, as if peering into the depths of Runa's face. She was unconsciously touching the bracelet on her left wrist with her fingers. It was A's habit when she was nervous. 　Runa knew this. 　(As I thought, today isn't just about drinking tea.) 　Runa quietly braced herself within. 　"Runa." 　A spoke. 　"Lately, you've been collecting someone's data, haven't you?" 　Runa's fingers stopped. 　The hand holding the ohagi froze midair. 　(...She noticed.) 　Runa didn't change her expression. Keeping her smile, she slowly returned the ohagi to the plate. 　"...What are you talking about? Data—like stream analytics?" 　Runa tilted her head. She didn't intend to play dumb, but first she needed to probe the other's hand. 　A quietly shook her head. 　"No. Runa, you're looking into people again, aren't you. Stream data, social media, things like that. I can tell." 　A's voice was low and quiet. 　"I haven't forgotten what you told me in the winter of our second year of middle school. Your eyes back then were the same as they are now." 　Something deep in Runa's chest tightened. 　The winter of second year of middle school. The way home, bicycles side by side. The cold wind. A was saying she remembered that day clearly. 　"...You really do watch me closely, Noa." 　Runa smiled. 　But inside, a cold calculation was running. 　(How much does A know? About Project Endgame? No—she shouldn't know about that. But she's certain I'm collecting data.) 　"I do watch you. I've always tried to." 　A held her teacup as if cradling it with both hands. 　"Runa, the way you do things won't lead to your own happiness." 　A's voice trembled. 　A, who always kept her emotions bottled inside, was uncharacteristically letting her voice shake. 　"...That night, I went silent not because I hated it. It's because I didn't know how to say something that would stop you. That's the only thing that's stayed in my heart all this time." 　Runa clenched the fist resting on her knee. 　Her fingertips went numb with cold. 　(That silence was everything I was.) 　(A is trying to give the meaning of that silence back to me now.) 　"You're kind, Noa." 　Runa didn't change her tone. Soft, gentle. 　"But everything I'm doing is for everyone's sake. I want to make Vspo! a stronger place. To do that, I have to eliminate waste." 　A stared straight into Runa's eyes. 　"Waste? What's that? Cutting people loose?" 　"It's not that. It's optimization. Based on the data, this is the most efficient way." 　Runa deliberately used her catchphrase. 　A's expression clouded slightly. 　"Runa, you know... I'd like to think I understand you." 　A paused there. 　"Understanding and forgiving are different things. I want to understand you, Runa. But if you're going to hurt people, I can't forgive that. I will stop you." 　A's voice was low, but clear. 　Runa kept her smile, but deep down, she felt something creak. 　(A doesn't understand anything.) 　Runa concluded this inwardly. 　(A is just pretending to understand me. The truth is, she's afraid of me. That silence is proof. Even now, she's trying to stop me. She's denying my way of doing things.) 　(Then A is my enemy.) 　Runa resolved within her heart to cut loose her childhood friend. 　"I'm happy that you're worried about me, Noa. But I decide how I do things. You have no reason to stop me." 　Runa spoke quietly, but coldly. 　A's eyes wavered slightly. 　Just then, from beyond the shoji screen, Mitsuko's voice came. 　"Sorry for the wait. I brought more tea." 　Mitsuko returned, carrying a tray with a teapot and teacups. 　She seemed to sense the atmosphere in the room instantly. 　But she asked nothing, and quietly sat down beside Runa. 　"Here, Runa-chan. Drink it while it's hot. Your body's gone cold." 　Mitsuko poured fresh tea into Runa's cup. 　Steam rose softly. 　"Thank you." 　Runa cradled the teacup with both hands. 　It was warm. 　(This person might have heard our conversation just now.) 　Runa stole a glance at Mitsuko's profile. 　Mitsuko poured tea into her own cup and took a sip. 　"You're not breathing." 　Mitsuko murmured quietly. 　Runa froze. 　"I taught you how to practice smiling, but I never taught you how to practice breathing. My girls all have to be able to breathe." 　Mitsuko's voice was quiet, but it had a core of steel. 　The center of Runa's chest ached as if it had been squeezed. 　(Not breathing?) 　Only when it was pointed out did Runa realize she had stopped breathing. 　Unconsciously, her lungs had ceased moving. 　Runa slowly exhaled. 　"...Mitsuko-san, I'm fine. I'm breathing." 　Runa smiled. 　But she wasn't confident that the smile was well-made. 　Mitsuko stared at Runa's face. 　"Is that so. Then it's fine." 　Mitsuko said nothing more. 　But Runa understood. 　(This person truly sees through me.) 　(That my smile is manufactured, and what I'm thinking in my heart right now—all of it.) 　Runa felt the utmost caution toward Mitsuko. 　At the same time, for the first time, she became conscious of the existence of observers from whom there was no escape. 　(I'm being watched by two observers—A and Mitsuko-san.) 　Runa brought the teacup to her lips. 　The heat of the tea passed down her throat. 　But the coldness in her heart did not disappear. 　--- 　The night deepened. 　Runa left Purple Nest and walked the road home. 　The streetlights cast Runa's long shadow onto the asphalt. 　(Those two are my enemies.) 　(A is trying to stop me. Mitsuko-san is watching me.) 　Runa organized it this way in her mind. 　(But if that's the case, I just change the order in which I destroy them.) 　Her footsteps had, at some point, become firm. 　When she arrived home, Runa opened the door to her soundproof room. 　Twelve monitors lining one wall. Three servers. This was Runa's secret room, and the place where she plotted as the final boss. 　Runa changed into an oversized purple hoodie and sat in her chair. 　On the back of her right hand, faint traces of taping. 　Runa gripped the mouse and launched Project Endgame. 　On the screen, a trust-relations

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Episode 3

Name: Runa Shinomiya Won't Yield: The Final Boss's Conviction
Author: Novelia

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