February 14th. Valentine's Day. The sky was endlessly blue, without a single cloud. It was a perfectly clear day, so ironically flawless it felt like the world itself was celebrating this date. Hikigaya Hachiman passed through the school gate. The only sound was the scrape of his shoe soles against the asphalt, echoing unnaturally loud. He stood before the shoe lockers. The sliding door that was usually overflowing with "invitations" from the student council—he opened it without a word. Flutter. A single folded sheet of white paper drifted down. He picked it up. Turned it over. *"Just for today, please don't run away."* Methodical handwriting. Rounded handwriting. And a scrawl full of personality. Yukinoshita Yukino, Yuigahama Yui, Isshiki Iroha. The handwriting of all three mingled together within that single line. (*A joint message, huh.*) Hachiman shoved the paper into his pocket. "[gentle] ...What a pain." His voice was so quiet it surprised even himself. It carried none of his usual sarcasm or biting wit. He walked down the hallway. His feet, meant to carry him to the classroom, naturally turned toward the gymnasium. (*What the hell am I doing?*) He couldn't get yesterday's image of Iroha's tear-streaked face out of his head. The face of just an ordinary girl, shown for the first time by that calculating little devil. And then, Yukino's trembling voice: "I had no right to steal your memories." Yui's tear-filled eyes as she desperately forced a smile and said "Good morning." He didn't care about the Reverse-Mote System's numbers anymore. Rejecting them raises affection? The more you run, the more popular you get? Such calculations hadn't crossed Hachiman's mind even once this morning. "[gentle] Hikigaya." A voice called out, and Hachiman stopped walking. Turning around, he saw Hiratsuka Shizuka leaning against the wall. She was in her lab-coat-like suit, holding her usual "Youth It" clear file. But her fist wasn't clenched. "[gentle] I've been waiting a long time for the day you'd walk on your own." Hiratsuka-sensei said just that, then jerked her chin toward the gymnasium. No iron fist of discipline, no "Youth It" lecture. Just quietly, one adult giving one student a push forward. "[sarcastic] ...You're being unusually kind. It's creepy." "[gentle] Idiot. Go." Hachiman let out a small breath and started walking. He stood before the heavy doors of the gymnasium. The buzz of hundreds of people leaked out from inside. He placed his hand on the door. The cold feel of iron. (*So this is my execution platform, huh?*) Creeeak... The door opened. In that instant, the gazes of six hundred people in the gymnasium pierced Hachiman all at once. Silence. The next moment— WAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!! A deafening roar of cheers and screams, a chaotic frenzy where no one knew what was what. "[excited] HE'S HEREEEEE!" "[excited] It's Hikitani-kun! He really came!" "[scared] Hey, stop pushing!" A simple stage had been set up in the center of the gymnasium. A wooden platform about fifty centimeters high, the kind used for school festivals. A single microphone stand stood on it. And—three-legged spotlights shone brilliantly down on the stage. "[excited] Alright, alri~ght, everyone quiet down, please!" Isshiki Iroha stood at the center of the stage, holding a microphone. Her flaxen semi-long hair. Big eyes like a kitten's. Today, in addition to her usual little devil smile, she wore a slightly formal dress befitting an emcee. "[excited] Thank you all so very much for attending today's Student Council-sponsored 'First Annual Mihama Academy Valentine's Public Confession Event'!" The venue erupted. "[excited] Without further ado, let's invite our mandatory participant—Hikitani-senpai—to the stage!" At Iroha's signal, the spotlight caught Hachiman. Blinding. Hot. Hachiman was made to walk between the audience seats. Like a criminal walking the flower-lined path to the execution platform, curious stares rained down on him from both sides. (*I want to go home. I really, really want to go home.*) Muttering in his heart, he drew closer to the stage, step by step. He climbed onto the stage. The wood creaked underfoot. He faced forward. There—stood two girls. Yukinoshita Yukino. Glossy black hair reaching her waist. Deep, narrow lapis lazuli eyes. Today she wore not her uniform, but a simple deep blue dress. Her face lacked its usual cool mask. She looked anxious, yet as if she had resolved herself to something, staring straight ahead. Yuigahama Yui. A bright, fluffy chestnut short bob. Big brown eyes. She was no longer trying to force a smile. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her hands clenched in front of her chest. Her eyes were glistening, but he could tell she was desperately holding back her tears. (*Both of them look like they're about to cry.*) (*And yet, they're trying to smile.*) A warmth spread deep in Hachiman's chest. He wanted to run. Right now, he wanted to sprint away from this place with all his might. But—his feet wouldn't move. "[excited] Well then—" Iroha raised the microphone. "[serious] First, Yukinoshita Yukino-senpai. Please." Yukino stepped forward. The gymnasium fell completely silent. Only the rustling breaths of six hundred people could be heard. Receiving the microphone, Yukino turned toward Hachiman. Her lapis lazuli eyes gazed straight at him. She opened her mouth. "[whispers] ...I..." Her voice trembled. Her usual dignified tone, the biting wit that could cut down any foe, was gone. "[whispers] I created this world... to trap you." The entire venue gasped. "[crying] In the original world, there were feelings I couldn't convey to you. So, I wished for it. Not a world where you could be alone— But a world where you could be with someone." A single tear spilled from Yukino's eye. "[crying] But, it was a mistake. I stole your memories and tried to make you mine alone. That was my ego." She gripped the microphone tightly. Her fingers trembled. "[whispers] Last night, I looked into it. A way to destroy this world. A way to protect your memories." Yukino, her face still tear-stained, smiled just a little. "[crying] What I chose... was to let you go." Silence. Yukino held the microphone out to Yui. Yui took it with trembling hands. "[crying] ...Yukinon, that's not fair." Yui's voice was already a mess of tears. Without even trying to wipe them away, she looked at Hachiman. "[crying] I've been thinking about it all along. This world might be fake. Even my feelings might have been made by someone else." Her chestnut hair shone gold under the spotlight. "[crying] But—!" She shouted. "[crying] Even in a fake world, my feelings were real! I love Hikitani-kun, I want to be with you, and that alone was enough!" Her voice echoed throughout the gymnasium. "[crying] ...I just wish I could have said that." Yui hugged the microphone to her chest and looked down. Her shoulders trembled slightly. Not a single one of the six hundred spectators made a sound. They just watched the stage intently. "[gentle] ...Thank you, both of you." Iroha took the microphone from Yui. She took a small, deep breath, then raised her head. Her usual little devil smile was gone. But she wasn't crying either. It was just a very serious, genuine expression she'd never shown before. "[gentle] I've... always been teasing you, Senpai." Iroha gazed at Hachiman as she slowly spun her words. "[gentle] Recruiting you for the student council, chasing you when you ran, enjoying the carnage. I thought that's just what I liked doing." She let out a small, soft laugh. "[whispers] —But, I was wrong." Her voice trembled just a little. "[crying] The truth is, I didn't want you to run away the most. I wanted you to get caught in my calculations and stay by my side forever. I was... scared of you disappearing." Iroha clutched the microphone to her chest as if pressing it against herself. Her eyes, as she looked up, wavered with tears. "[crying] I know it's the selfishness of a little devil— But even so, I wanted to tell you." Saying that, Iroha pushed the microphone against Hachiman's chest. And then, she stepped away from the emcee's spot— And stood in line next to Yukino and Yui. The three girls stood in a row. Black. Chestnut. Flaxen. Their hair, illuminated by the spotlights, each shone a different color. All of them were crying. All of them were trying to smile. The gazes of six hundred people focused solely on Hachiman. Hachiman held the microphone. It was heavy. (*...I...*) He had kept running away. In this world, and in the original one. Scared of facing anyone seriously, thinking it was better to be alone than to hurt someone. But. (*Your feelings—*) Hachiman raised his head. His dead-fish eyes looked at the three of them in turn. Yukino. Yui. Iroha. I... "[gentle] ...I've kept running away." His voice echoed through the gymnasium via the microphone. "[gentle] Being twisted, being cynical, pretending I wasn't serious. Calling your feelings a pain, and just like that—running from all of it." The audience stirred. "[gentle] But—" Hachiman took a breath. "[serious] Not once did I ever think your feelings were a lie." In that instant— White light streamed in through the gymnasium windows. No, not just the windows. From the gaps in the walls, from beneath the floor, from the ceiling. From everywhere, a soft white light began to overflow. "[surprised] ...Huh?" "[scared] What is this light...!" The spectators buzzed. Yukino's eyes widened. "[whispers] ...The condition... has it been met?" Yui covered her mouth with her hand and began to cry. "[crying] ...Hikitani-kun...!" Iroha laughed as tears streamed down her face. "[laughing] Ahaha... you finally said it..." The world began to crumble with a sound. The light intensified, and the gymnasium walls, the spectators, everything began to melt into white. (*The Reverse-Mote System's termination condition.*) (*For me to honestly convey my true feelings to someone.*) Hachiman, still gripping the microphone, gazed at the three of them. Yukino reached out her hand within the light. Yui was crying and laughing. Iroha wore her usual little devil smile, genuinely from the heart for the first time. (*Not yet.*) (*There's still something I want to say.*) Hachiman brought the microphone closer to his mouth. "[serious] Finally—just one thing, listen." The light was about to envelop the three of them. The world was on the verge of being completely reset—just before that moment. Hachiman didn't run. For the first time, he stood here on his own two feet. And he was trying to convey it, in his own words. "[serious] ..." The light swallowed everything. —His voice had not yet broken off.