8,946th Time

After considering my words for some time with obvious sorrow, Mogi answered in a truly pained voice, “Wait until tomorrow.”

2,601st Time

“I’m Aya Otonashi.”

The transfer student muttered that and nothing more.

✵

“Oh man! This is incredible!”

Haruaki Usui, my friend in the seat next to me, blurts this out in a fairly loud voice and gives me an audible slap on the back, even though we’re still in the middle of second period.

That hurts, stupid. It’s embarrassing, too. Everyone is staring.

Haruaki’s gawking behind him thanks to the presence of Aya Otonashi, the transfer student.

“Our eyes met! Oh man, I can’t believe this!”

“She probably just looked up when you made all that fuss turning around to look at her.”

“Hosshi, my man, you have no sense of romance.”

Romance? What the hell’s he talking about?

“She’s just too beautiful! Like a walking work of art. She’s a national treasure. I can’t take it anymore! My heart is hers! I’m going to profess my love to her.”

Well, that was fast!

The bell rings. Upon giving the end-of-class salute as ordered, Haruaki makes a beeline for Otonashi without even returning to his seat.

“Aya Otonashi! You have stolen my heart. I love you!”

Oh god, he actually went through with it!

I can’t hear Otonashi’s reply, but I know the outcome right away from Haruaki’s face. Actually, I’m pretty sure I didn’t even need to see that to deduce her reply.

Haruaki comes back to my desk.

“I can’t believe it… She turned me down.”

Why did you even think you had a chance of success in the first place? His total sincerity is a bit scary.

“Of course she did. If you go up to someone and announce your love for them unexpectedly like that, they’re going to get creeped out. That’s just how it works.”

“Hmph. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll just have to try again, only next time it won’t be so sudden. I know I’ll win her over someday.”

While on the one hand I envy Haruaki for his optimism, on the other, I’m glad I’m lacking in that area.

“And what are you two up to here? It seems like fun to me, but the girls sure don’t think much of you right now,” says Daiya as he walks up to us.

“What?! Just Haruaki, right?”

“Afraid not. They’re treating you two as partners in crime.”

“Hey, hey, my partner in crime? That’s some high praise right there, huh, Hosshi!”

Th-this can’t get any worse…

“But how about it, Daiyan? I’m sure even you want to take a shot at her, right?” Haruaki says, giving him a little jab with his elbow.

Most people would be afraid to tease Daiya like this, but Haruaki doesn’t give it a second thought, maybe because they’re old friends, or maybe because he’s not the type to worry about consequences.

Daiya sighs and answers straightaway.

“Nah.”

“No way! So does that mean you have your heart set on someone else?”

“It doesn’t matter whether Otonashi’s good looks stir my heart or not. I’ll admit, she is beautiful, but I’d never actually try to make a play for her.”

“Hmm, really…?”

“You don’t understand anything, do you, Haruaki? But I guess that sentiment is incomprehensible to an ape like you who’s driven solely by instinct and pursues anything with a pretty face.”

“What’d you say? Just what does caring about looks have to do with instincts?!”

“Producing attractive children will lead to more descendants, so we are instinctively drawn to more visually appealing mates.”

“Ohhh,” Haruaki and I both say in wonderment. Daiya seems truly disheartened that we never figured this out on our own.

“Phew. Well, I get it, Daiyan. What you’re really trying to say is that there’s no point in trying because Aya is out of your league, right? There’s no dishonor in knowing you can’t win! I know what you’re doing. You’re like that fox that knows he can’t reach the grapes high up on the tree, so he tries to make everyone else think those grapes are bitter. Rationalization, that’s it. That’s so not cool. Laaame, Daiyan!”

“Did you even listen to a word I said? Still, the first part of your argument wasn’t completely off base. You should die a thousand times for the second half, though.”

“Ha! So you admit you don’t have a chance!”

That’s enough for Daiya to slug Haruaki and his triumphant grin. Wow, all that anger he was holding back really boiled to the surface.

“It’s not that I don’t have a chance. It’s that she won’t try to approach me.”

“Man, if that isn’t some conceited BS, I don’t know what is. Right, Hosshi? This guy thinks he deserves the world on a platter just ’cause he’s pretty.”

You’d think Haruaki would’ve learned his lesson by now, but he plunges ahead full tilt.

“I’m not saying she won’t make a move on me because I’m out of her league. It may be the truth, but that’s not how things work with her.”

“Damn, you really are shameless!”

“She doesn’t think of me as out of her league,” Daiya explains. “In fact, I don’t even fall into that category for her. None of us interest her one bit. It’s not like she’s looking down on us, either. It’s just like how we see insects only as insects, or people as people. She isn’t even aware of the subtle difference between us, how I’m handsome and Haruaki’s a total mess. It’s like ignoring the differences between male and female cockroaches to her. Just how would you go about making a move on someone who views you like that?”

Not even Haruaki has a clue of what to say in response to this rather merciless criticism of Otonashi.

“…Daiya.”

I just have to open my mouth.

“You’re actually pretty interested in Otonashi, aren’t you?”

Daiya’s at a loss for words. A rare reaction for him. But that’s the way it is. Regardless of whether his opinions are right or wrong, you can’t really analyze them without a bit of observation.

“…Psh, I don’t give a damn about her.”

“You’re blushing.”

“…Kazu, you are this close to falling into my trap. I’m going to do things you never thought possible with a green onion that will make you break out in hives the next time you even see one.”

I can tell that Daiya is getting seriously angry, so I decide to laugh and play the whole thing off as a joke.

At any rate, it seems that Daiya knows that Otonashi is easy to deal with.

“Before long, even you idiots and your insect-level powers of observation will figure out that there’s something wrong with her.”

The claim makes Daiya sound like a bit of a sore loser.

But that isn’t the case.

After all, he’s exactly right.

✵

Immediately after our homeroom session at the end of the day, Otonashi suddenly raises her hand. As soon as Mr. Kokubo sees her, she launches into an announcement without waiting for permission or even an acknowledgment.

“I need everyone in first-year Class 6 to do something.”

Heedless of the class’s stunned reaction, she continues.

“I just need five minutes of your time. I’m sure you don’t mind, right?”

Despite the lack of response, Otonashi marches up to the podium.

She then drives Mr. Kokubo out of the classroom as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. The whole scene is bizarre, but for some reason it feels completely normal. Judging by their reactions, I can tell the rest of the class probably feels the same way.

Pure silence grips the classroom, without a single murmur of protest.

Standing on the platform at the front, Otonashi faces the class and opens her mouth to speak.

“I want you all to write something.”

She then steps down and gives piles of something to the students at the front of each row.

These students take one and pass the remainder to the students sitting behind them, much like when we receive a normal handout in class.

Eventually, I get one, too.

It’s a blank, completely nondescript piece of recycled paper cut to about four inches on each side.

“Bring them up to me once you’ve finished writing. That’s it.”

“Um, what do you mean by ‘something’?” Kokone takes it upon herself to ask for the rest of the class.

Otonashi’s reply is terse. “My name.”

The strange silence from earlier finally breaks as commotion fills the classroom. Which is completely understandable. None of this makes any sense. Her name? Everyone knows that. She just told us this morning when she introduced herself as Aya Otonashi.

“This is stupid,” someone spits.

There’s only one person who would say something like that to Otonashi: Daiya Oomine.

The entire class seems to gulp in unison. Everyone knows you don’t want to get on Daiya’s bad side.

“Your name is Aya Otonashi. Sure. What’s the point of having everyone write it? Are you desperate to make sure everyone remembers it right away?”

But Otonashi doesn’t bat an eye at the harsh remark.

“All I would do is write ‘Aya Otonashi.’ There, I just showed you I know your name. There’s no point in writing it now, right?”

“Fine. I don’t care.”

Perhaps Daiya wasn’t expecting her to agree, because he’s at a loss for a retort. With an angry tch, he tears his paper up as loudly as possible and leaves the room.

“What’s the matter? Hurry up and write.”

No one in the classroom has started. Which is completely understandable. Not everyone shows it, but we’re completely floored. She just shut Daiya down. As his classmates, we’re well aware of how incredible that is.

It’s a while before we can do anything. Eventually, the scratch of a mechanical pencil breaks the stillness, and the room gradually fills with sound of other students following suit.

I’m pretty sure no one understands what Otonashi is after, but that doesn’t matter.

There’s only one thing to write.

Just the name Aya Otonashi.

The first person to bring their paper to Otonashi is Haruaki. Once he’s out of his seat, several other students get up as well. There’s no substantial change in Otonashi’s expression as she takes Haruaki’s paper.

I think…he failed the test.

“Haruaki.” I call him over once he says a couple of words to Mogi and heads back this way.

“What’s up, Hosshi?”

“What did you write?”

“Huh? ‘Aya Otonashi.’ What else would I write? I misspelled it, though.” Haruaki looks a bit sad for some reason as he answers.

“…Yeah, I guess that’s really the only option.”

“C’mon, hurry up and write yours, too.”

“But do you think Otonashi is doing this because she actually wants us to write her name?”

If so, then it’s hard to believe there’s any point to this at all.

“Nope,” Haruaki immediately replies.

“Huh? But…you wrote ‘Aya Otonashi,’ didn’t you?”

“I mean… Okay, so Daiyan is ridiculously smart, right? Though, his personality is equally awful.”

I cock my head in confusion at the sudden change in topic.

“So Daiya said that all he would write was ‘Aya Otonashi.’ Which means he couldn’t think of anything else to write. I was the same, obviously. We couldn’t write something else because we couldn’t come up with what that would be.”

“So if you can’t think of anything…you can’t write it.”

“Exactly. The point is, none of this is about us.”

I get the feeling Haruaki is right on the money. He has to be right.

In other words, Otonashi is ignoring the majority of the class and doing all of this for someone who could think of something else to write.

Now I know why Haruaki looked so dejected earlier. I mean, he really does have the hots for Otonashi. His approach was pretty silly, but I’ve never seen him declare his feelings like that to anyone else, so they must be genuine.

But she isn’t falling for it. She won’t even give him the time of day… Just like Daiya said.

“…You know, you’re smarter than I thought, Haruaki.”

“The ‘than I thought’ part was totally unnecessary.”

That actually was pretty rude, so I try to clear the air with a smile. Haruaki is kind enough to return it with a slightly forced grin.

“Anyway, I’ll see ya later. My teammates will kill me if I don’t get moving. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but still.”

“Okay. Hang in there.”

It must be tough playing for a fairly capable baseball club.

I return to my blank piece of paper. I was figuring I would just write Aya Otonashi, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to do it.

I look closely at the girl. There’s absolutely no change in her expression as she skims the papers the other students have given her. They all must have the name from her self-introduction on them.

Anyone who can’t think of anything else wouldn’t be able to write anything else.

“…”

So what am I supposed to do? I mean, I did think of something else. For some reason, the totally random name Maria popped into my head.

No, I get it. My mind is doing something weird. Where the hell did I come up with “Maria,” of all things? If I write that and give it to Otonashi, she’ll just yell at me to stop messing with her.

But what if, in some wild twist of fate, this happens to be the answer she’s hoping for…?

Filled with doubt and uncertainty, I start writing on that four-by-four-inch scrap of recycled paper.

Maria.

I stand up and walk over to Otonashi. There’s no line. It seems I’m the last to turn my paper in. Nervously, I hand it to her. She accepts it without a word.

And then she sees what’s written on it.

The change in her expression is unmistakable.

“…Huh?”

Neither Mr. Kokubo nor Daiya could get a reaction out of her, so why is she suddenly so wide-eyed?

“Heh-heh-heh…”

And now she’s laughing.

“Hoshino.”

“Oh, you remembered my name.”

I regret that comment instantly. Otonashi’s laughter vanishes, and she glares at me like she’s finally cornered the man who murdered her parents. “You bastard… Don’t mess with me.” Her voice is choked, as if it’s all she can do to fight down her rage.

I predicted what she would say, but not that tone.

Next thing I know, she has me firmly by the collar of my jacket.

“Whoa! I-I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to…”

“Why else would you write that if you aren’t trying to play with me?!”

“Um, well, you see… It’s just that, er… Yeah, maybe I was just playing around.”

And that probably seals my fate.

Her hands still securely gripping my collar, Otonashi drags me off behind the school.

✵

“Hoshino, do you think you can make fun of me?”

Otonashi has me up against the wall of the school as her eyes bore into me.

“Strategy is not my strong suit. I’m well aware of this. My plans are about as simple and ill-advised as telling the culprit to come out and identify himself. You can’t even call them plans. So why the hell are you falling for them?! This is the second time! It’s like you’re completely ignoring what happened the first time!”

Otonashi has finally released me, but her gaze alone is enough to fix me in place. Seeing my reaction, she presses her lips tight before letting out a sigh.

“…It’s just that I felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere, so I lost my cool for a bit once I thought I’d made some headway. But the truth is that things are taking a turn for the better, so I suppose I should be happy.”

“…Uh, yeah, that’s right. You should be happy. Ha-ha-ha.”

Otonashi meets my good-natured chuckle with a terrifying glare. I’d probably be better off keeping my mouth shut.

“…I don’t understand you. I thought that maybe my persistence had worn you down…but I can’t figure out why you look so carefree and empty-headed.”

It’s not that I’m empty-headed so much as that I have absolutely no clue what she’s talking about.

“You ignored me for the first 2,600 times. I could never get you to submit, no matter how many of these endless repetitions I went through. It’s exhausting. It should be for you, too, but you always seem perfectly fine.”

What should I do? I don’t understand a word she’s saying.

Perhaps finally realizing how bewildered I am, Otonashi eyes me dubiously.

“……Don’t tell me you aren’t aware?”

“Aware? Of what?”

“…Have it your way. Whether you’re acting or not, I suppose there’s no real harm in explaining. Well, to put it simply, I’ve transferred schools 2,601 times now.”

The only response I have to such a claim is to stare in shock.

“If you are acting, you really deserve some kind of award. That’s the sort of stupid face you can make only when you’re entirely clueless. But whatever. I’ll explain things to you as I understand them. Now, then… Today is March second, right?”

I nod.

“It’d be easy if I could just say that I’ve repeated March second 2,601 times now, but it’s not as simple as that. I can’t say it’s precisely correct, but I use the word ‘transfer.’”

“Wha…?”

“I have been returned to 6:27 AM on the morning of March second 2,601 times.”

“…”

“‘Returned’ is the proper expression from my perspective, but it’s actually inaccurate. I use the term ‘transfer’ because it’s a bit closer to the truth.”

My mouth gapes open, and Otonashi clutches her hair in frustration.

“Agh, I can’t take this anymore! Just how stupid are you?! Whenever something inconvenient for you happens after 6:27 AM, you just ‘fix’ it by making it so it never happened!” she yells, losing her temper.

Hey, come on, now. No one can understand all of that thrown at them out of nowhere, you know.

“I’m not sure I really understand, but are you saying you keep experiencing the same period of time over and over?”

It happens right as those words leave my lips.

“Ah—”

What is this? What’s going on?

A massive wave of wrongness washes over me, weighing on my chest. “Wrongness” isn’t a strong enough term to describe it, but that’s what it is. It’s like realizing the town I live in has been switched with an entirely different one, except that everyone else is going about their lives as usual without noticing.

But it’s not like lost memories have returned to me. I still don’t remember anything, but I can definitely tell that something has happened all the same.

Otonashi is telling me the truth.

“Do you finally understand?”

“H-hold on a minute…”

We’ve repeated March second 2,601 times. That alone is more than enough to confuse me, but it’s the other thing Otonashi is implying that really gets to me…

“And I’m the one doing this?”

“Yep,” Otonashi answers immediately.

“Wh-why would I do that?”

“I have no way of knowing your motivations.”

“But I’m not doing it!”

“You’re probably not even aware of it.”

Why me? As I ask this, I realize there’s only one reason I could have drawn her attention.

I wrote Maria on the piece of paper.

“Just as you went through each repetition completely unaware up until now, the other people who are simply caught up in this have had their past erased as well. There was no way for me to make you remember your past that they didn’t share. In other words, I’ve told the name Maria to the entire class, but the only ones who could possibly write it are the culprit and myself.”

But I remembered that name. “Maria” had just popped into my head from out of nowhere. That couldn’t be normal.

“I don’t know if it’s been effective or not, but I’ve done my best to behave in an especially memorable manner. I was waiting for the culprit, who should be the only person besides me with memories of those worlds that never were, to slip up and reveal himself. I didn’t have much hope that it would actually work, though.”

“…How long have you suspected it was me? I mean, you went to the trouble of telling me the name Maria in one of those past worlds, right?”

“I wouldn’t be particularly suspicious of someone as apparently harmless as you.”

“So then…”

“Hmph. My time is infinite, so I was just being thorough.”

My time is infinite.

I’d like to say it was just a figure of speech, but Otonashi really did spend that much time in her search.

I get it now.

Otonashi has an infinite amount of time, which is what led her to the throwaway strategy of having everyone in the class write her name.

It was all in the slim hope that someone would write Maria. No, maybe she wasn’t expecting anything at all. Maybe she had run out of ideas during her 2,601 “transfers” and was simply killing time until she could come up with a new plan. In any case, she most likely does have an eternity ahead of her.

That explains why Otonashi is so angry that I fell for her plan. It’s like grinding for levels in an RPG to take down that impossible boss, only to find you could have just cheesed him by using a certain item. You achieved your goal all the same, but you wish you could have your wasted time and effort back.

“…No. I lost focus for a moment, but I still can’t afford to be careless. Nothing has been resolved, after all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Does it look like anything’s been solved to you? Does it look like anything about this ongoing nightmare, this ‘Rejecting Classroom,’ has ended to you?”

Rejecting classroom? She must be referring to the cycle of repetition we’re stuck in.

Still, there’s one thing that’s still bugging me…

“I understand why you’re treating me like the one behind all this since I wrote the name Maria, but how is it that you aren’t stuck in the Rejecting Classroom like everyone else?”

“It’s not that I’m not stuck. I am just as firmly trapped here as the rest of you. If I decide to stop remembering and give up, I’ll go through all of this over and over again with no meaning, just like everyone else. It would be as simple as spilling a cup of water balanced on top of my head. We’d repeat for eternity that day you keep rejecting.”

“Forgetting is all it would take for that to happen to you?”

“Think about it. Does anyone else seem likely to realize things are repeating themselves? You’re the one behind all this, and even you were unaware of what’s happening.”

…She might be right. We’ve already gone through all of this 2,601 times, after all.

“It would be effortless for me to stop remembering. But that will absolutely never happen.”

“…Never?”

“Never. Giving up is an impossibility for me. I don’t care whether we do this two thousand times, two million times, or two billion times—I will triumph and accomplish what I set out to do.”

Two thousand times. I give that number some thought. You hear about groups of two thousand relatively often, but when you actually consider adding one plus one plus one all the way up… Well, there are 365 days in a year and 1,825 days in five years, so it’s even more than that.

Otonashi has been at this for all that time.

“Hoshino, do you have any idea how you were able to create the Rejecting Classroom?”

“Huh? …No.”

“Heh, I see. It would definitely be significant if you were playing dumb to avoid answering. That’s some impressive acting, if that’s what you’re doing.”

“Th-this isn’t an act.”

“Well then, let me just ask you something…”

A faint smile creeps onto Otonashi’s face.

“Hoshino, you’ve met

, haven’t you

?”

Who?

But I can’t even ask that obvious question. My mind reels as I try to figure out why. Who have I met? I don’t know. I can’t remember.

All the same, I understand.

I have indeed met.

When? Where? Naturally, I don’t know either of these things. I have no memory. The one thing I know is the encounter definitely took place.

I try to force myself to remember. But for some reason, that information vanishes before I can see it, as if a shutter is slamming down in front of it at incredible speed. Beep, beep, beep. Access denied. No unauthorized personnel beyond this point.

“Heh. You did, didn’t you?”

Otonashi snickers to herself.

She’s certain now. And so am I.

I, Kazuki Hoshino, am the villain responsible for this entire situation.

“You should have received something. A Box that can grant a single wish.”

The word “box” is unexpected—but judging by the context, it must be the device that created the Rejecting Classroom.

“That reminds me—I still haven’t told you what I’m actually trying to do,” says Otonashi, a triumphant smirk still on her face. “My goal is to obtain that Box.” And with that, her smile disappears. Now that she’s sure I have what she wants, she icily orders, “Now hand it over.”

Surely I must have it.

But if this Box really can grant wishes, should I give it to her so easily?

She’s put herself through all of this 2,601 times, over and over, just to get this device. She must have a wish she needs to come true, enough to go to such drastic lengths for it. She’s so desperate that she would be willing to take the Box and its wish away from me. That’s what it boils down to.

That level of persistence definitely isn’t normal. It’s crazy—beyond a doubt. There’s something peculiar about Aya Otonashi.

“I don’t know how to give it to you.”

It’s not a lie. But it’s also my sole means of resistance.

“I see. But if you did know, you’d give it to me, right?”

“Well…”

“It’s not uncommon to forget. You do know how; you simply can’t recall. It’s like riding a bicycle—you know what it feels like to do it, but you can’t explain it to anyone else. You’re just confused because you can’t put it into words now.”

“…Is there a way to put an end to the Rejecting Classroom without handing over the Box?”

Otonashi’s gaze grows even more frigid at my words.

“So you don’t want to give it to me after all. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“N-no, that’s not it—I just…”

Otonashi quietly sighs as she sees my obvious panic.

“There’s a way. If I destroy the body of the ‘owner’ along with the Box, I’m fairly certain that will spell the end of the Rejecting Classroom.”

“Destroy the owner?”

The owner. That probably refers to the culprit who has the Box, which would be me. She has to destroy me? That means…

“If you die, this Rejecting Classroom we’re stuck in will end,” Otonashi says in a detached voice, as if she’s swallowing her emotions.

✵

C’mon. There was no need for the xxxx.

Are you saying this is my future? If so, that despicable act is my only choice. I would almost rather you did this to me now.

It’s the morning of March 3. I’m at an intersection with poor visibility due to the rain.

I’ve cast aside my umbrella, and I’m staring at a xxxx. Nothing else even enters my field of vision. Not even the truck smashed into the fence, or Otonashi standing nearby, draws my gaze from it. A red liquid flows endlessly, the rain powerless to wash it all away.

There’s a body with half its head missing and the braixx splattered everywhere. A xxrpse. A cadaver. A stiff. Dead meat. Cold, lifeless flesh. A body. A body! A BODY!

It’s Haruaki’s.

“—Guagh!”

As I become fully aware of just what is before me, I vomit.

I look at Aya Otonashi. She’s watching me, her face expressionless.

“…Haruaki.”

Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be all right, Haruaki.

I mean, we’re just going to go back to the beginning of the cycle.

It’ll be like none of this ever happened. Lucky for us.

Wait. Did I…?

Did I wish the Rejecting Classroom into existence because I couldn’t accept a horrible event like this…?