124,612th Time

My mission should be complete. But I have yet to meet Maria, and I wake up, as always, in the classroom before the school festival starts.

There is, of course, no one in it. Ever since Kokone vanished, there hasn’t been a recorder in my hand.

I walk the school building. The school feels unnatural with its preparations for a festival that has no participants. It’s as if I’ve wandered into a diorama. There is no sound aside from my footsteps. I don’t see any signs of life; not even a ghost could slip in here. I walk around the school as carefully as someone reading a novel one letter at a time.

There aren’t any people.

No matter how much I now wish that there were, there are no people.

This repeating world was full of similar experiences. Time accelerated and became less and less dense, with a single day passing like the three-minute wait for a cup of instant noodles. Now that there’s no one here, though, time has transformed into something monstrous. It’s slowed enormously. Without my sense of time, each minute feels like an hour.

The swollen time constricts my chest, almost suffocating me. And that isn’t all; the once-formless concept now has an edge that slices me up like a kamaitachi whirlwind. Or so it seems, until the next moment is heavy enough to crush me. It pulls at my body and stretches it like a rubber doll. I shudder. When will my limbs be cut away, my organs smashed, my head torn off?

And what’s most frightening of all is that these are all sensory illusions. I can describe them with a single word:

“Loneliness.”

I exit the school. The trains aren’t running. There are empty train carriages at the station. I get on one of the bicycles left nearby and head home. There’s no one there. Of course there isn’t. I killed Roo and the rest to remove them from this world long ago.

It makes sense, but I can’t accept it.

All of a sudden, I can’t let this be.

I want to see faces.

I want to see someone.

On a bicycle, I head to places where there might be people.

A commercial strip.

—No one.

An amusement park.

—No one.

A shopping mall.

—No one.

A domed stadium.

—No one.

—No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one.

Maria’s apartment.

—No one.

I decide to hang myself here today.

124,622nd Time

I’m trapped inside the Misbegotten Happiness that I’d believed was broken. Even after ten more loops, I’m still the only person in the world. I’ve still been taking my own life during this time, naturally.

I cross over a large bridge to reach the neighboring prefecture. Ever since the people disappeared, I’ve been spending my days walking around—but to what end? I’m looking for people. What will I do if I find any? I have to be alone. I must kill everyone alive, with no exceptions. Kill them? Yes, kill them. Even when they’ve finally seen me? No one can be here if I want to see Maria. But I want someone to see me, right? Yes, I want someone to see me.

I want to talk to someone. I don’t care who; I just want to talk. I want to be sure I’m here. So it doesn’t matter who. It doesn’t matter if they’re awful. I need someone to respond. Being alone means losing everything in its truest sense. Now. Let me out of this world now. Is it still, still not broken enough? I pull out a knife and cut my body to shreds. This isn’t good enough? No, it probably isn’t.

My consciousness drifts away, and I die again.

124,628th Time

—Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang.

Loneliness. The assault is different from what I had imagined. I thought the hopelessness it brought would quietly seep into me.

But it doesn’t. This attack is much more violent and direct. It hammers me on the head like a metal pole. Clang, clang.

—Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang.

It hurts. Please stop. I vomit and weep; it’s too much. How many times has it been? That bastard Loneliness won’t let up, though. It beats on me until my consciousness is lost to the wind. When that happens, I leap through time. And when I leap, I find it difficult to make it back.

I’ve been assigned a series of trials in the Misbegotten Happiness. I killed myself more times than I can count, committed an unfathomable number of murders. I even took the lives of those I love. These days have been so painful; this ordeal has not been easy. However, it’s also true that I’ve grown accustomed to the suffering bit by bit, that the pain has dulled.

It’s different with loneliness, though. Its crushing weight grows greater with every cycle. I can’t even develop an immunity to it.

I will continue to think. If I don’t, then the person who is me will disappear with no one to observe me. I try to think meaningful thoughts, but that’s difficult, too. There is no meaning when there isn’t anyone else here. Loneliness snatches away even my capacity for thought. Meaningless. It’s all meaningless. I’m meaningless. I can pretend otherwise for only so long by counting prime numbers in my head.

I’ve already tried not killing myself once, thinking maybe everything would reset. I hoped to erase all the memories I’d carried over, knowing full well that it would undermine everything I have fought for all this time. In other words, I was defeated. I yielded to the loneliness.

But I still have this world to myself even if I don’t commit suicide. The moment I awaken, the violent shock of the loneliness leaps at me and revives my memory. There is no escape from this solitude. It won’t leave me alone even when I’m beaten. It’s still constantly feeding me its lethal dose of poison.

124,645th Time

I’ve decided to hop onto a midsize motorcycle and travel the world in search of people.

I’m deluded to believe I’m still holding on to my mind. I’m deluded to believe someone else remains in this world. I’m deluded to believe that just maybe that someone is Maria. These delusions are what keep me alive. Lose them, and I am finished. I will never be able to think again. If I don’t keep embracing these delusions, I will become living stone.

And there is no coming back from that death.

I accelerate the bike. Though I know there’s no point in speeding up, the looming loneliness pushes roughly at my back, driving me faster and faster.

Unable to make a turn, I crash into a guardrail.

I am thrown off the bike and break my left leg, which now bends forward. Terrifyingly enough, however, I don’t feel any pain. There is no point to perceiving pain in a world with no people, so my brain has taken the initiative to shut down that function.

I try to shriek in fear.

But no sound comes out because I’ve forgotten how to scream.

124,750th Time

I can no longer ride a motorcycle. My mind isn’t capable of operating advanced instruments. My brain shouldn’t be able to physically waste away, since this world preserves my body as it was, and yet my intelligence is clearly deteriorating. I’m having problems reading and writing kanji characters. My consciousness comes and goes, and I can’t recall how many loops it’s been since I became alone, though I try.

My energy level is in an even more dangerous state. I’m losing the ability to walk around in search of people, even though I still want to. More and more, I finish the day unable to move from the classroom where I awaken.

My memories of the past are slipping away. I don’t know who I am. I barely know my name. Kazuki Hoshino. K-A-Z-U-K-I H-O-S-H-I-N-O. But I can’t recall what type of person I was, what my social standing was, what I liked, what I disliked, or what I’ve been living for.

I can only occasionally remember the names of my friends. Mogi—I remember that last name but can’t always come up with the first name that goes with it. I know whoever it was was dearly important to me. The name Haruaki once left my mouth unexpectedly, but I can’t conjure up the face.

I’m sure language will be lost to me soon, too. It’s scary to think about, but there’s nothing I can do. I’ve long since forgotten how to make proper facial expressions. Even if there were someone to see me, I’m sure they wouldn’t have any idea what I’m thinking.

Still.

Still, if there’s one thing I must never forget, it’s this.

I shout.

“Maria!

“Maria!

“Maria!”

Strangely enough, the chant causes my body to spring into action of its own volition. This isn’t my own will at work here; my mind and body are divided. I merely observe the me who’s moving on its own. It’s like watching video from a camera controlled by someone else.

Where is my body going? No matter where it goes, it’s meaningless. There is no meaning in a vacant world. Where could it go?

The familiar path leads it to the apartment building where Maria once lived. I climb the emergency stairwell and reach room 403. I insert the spare key. I always keep it in my pocket even in this state.

The scent of peppermint hangs in the apartment. My senses are playing with me. There’s nothing in these rooms to create that odor. This fragrance is simply a fantasy brought on by my memories.

But real or fake, the scent still soothes me.

It grants me hope.

124,753rd Time

Since then, I’ve been heading to Maria’s apartment as soon as I wake up at school.

I arrive, breathe in the peppermint scent, and gain peace.

It’s a repetition of that.

125,589th Time

Wake up at school.

Go to Maria’s house.

“Maria.”

Maybe I say “Maria.” Not sure if it comes out right.

Arrive at apartment. Scent is there. Can’t remember the name, but it’s Maria’s smell.

I cry.

Maria, why aren’t you here? I’m lonely. I miss you. Please come out. It’s all I wish for. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

—Bang, bang!

Hit the wall. Answer me. Let me hear your voice, even just a little. Please. While I can still use words.

—Bang, bang!

Fists start to bleed. Don’t care. Can’t feel pain anyway.

—Bang, bang!

—Bang, bang!

125,770th Time

Walk. Always same place. Hit wall.

—Bang, bang!

Miss you.

Not many words left; not much time left to use them.

Miss you.

126,779th Time

—Bang, bang!

—Bang, bang!

127,888th Time

—Bang, bang!

“I really am impressed.”

—Bang, bang!

“…Oh. This is the first time I’ve appeared in approximately three hundred fifty years from your perspective, but you won’t spare me a second glance. You probably can’t tell who I am, let alone recognize someone else’s presence. Your mind is completely shattered, language is lost to you, you can’t even think, and you have no will. Yet, you keep hitting that wall. It’s futile, but you keep going solely for the sake of your ardent wish to see Maria Otonashi. ‘Insane’ is the only word I can find for it. You’re less than an animal; your mind is gone. How are you able to keep pounding that wall? I suppose you’re like an insect seeking out food. For you, seeking Maria Otonashi is equivalent to a biological need.”

—Bang, bang!

“You wounded your own soul, even changed your nature as a human, just to find her.”

—Bang, bang!

“You are a truly terrifying foe, but this can’t last forever. Even the soul has its limits. When it is worn away, when your fixation on Maria Otonashi disappears, this world meant for you will become a void. I’ll watch until it happens.”

—Bang, bang!

“…It is annoying, though.”

—Bang, bang!

—Bang, bang!

128,000th Time

—Bang, bang, bang, bang.

130,000th Time

—Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

“I can’t believe this. It still won’t end. It really is annoying. It’s grating on my ears.”

140,000th Time

—Bang, bang!

—Bang, bang!

“…I shudder to even think it, but is there no end to this? Will you never stop? You can still bang on that wall? This goes beyond the behavior of an animal or a machine or even a substance. All things eventually break. It’s not even that of a god. Deities transform over time. And yet you’re still here hitting the wall.”

—Bang, bang!

“What are you?”

—Bang, bang!

“Who are you?”

150,000th Time

—Bang, bang!

“I am the embodiment of this Box. There is no escape. Nor can I escape from your banging on the wall.”

—Bang, bang!

“I am not human, and yet might I be worn down first? Will I, power personified and gifted with an intellect, lose a battle of endurance?”

200,000th Time

—Bang, bang!

—Bang, bang!

“Just stop already.”

—Bang, bang!

—Bang, bang!

“I said stop!”

—Bang, bang, bang, bang!

“Are you really trying to make a hole in the wall? That’s impossible. It’s like trying to split the earth in two with a shovel. If you manage to break through by hitting this wall, there would be only one word for that.”

—Bang, bang, bang, bang!

—Bang, bang, bang, bang!

“A miracle.”

400,000th Time

—Bang, bang!

“…Well, I never would have anticipated this turn of events. I can no longer maintain my form. I don’t know if this will make you happy, but when it comes to this contest between us—”

—Bang, bang!

“—you win.”

I.

—Bang, bang!

Will.

—Bang, bang!

Not.

“Maria.”

Forget.

“Maria.”

I reach out.

I would probably find peace if I let you go. I might lose you, but I could probably live. No matter which path I choose, though, all my actions are for your sake. In the end, I will still search for you. I don’t care that I’ll lose everything for you, that the people of the world hate me, that I’ll receive nothing for my efforts and you’ll never be mine. All I want is to keep walking straight ahead. That’s all I can do. This may seem like an abnormal fixation to someone else. It may even seem supernatural. To me, though, it’s a very mundane, obvious thing. It’s also not special to anyone aside from me. Some people notice, some people don’t, and I’m just one of the former. I’m one of the ones who learned that wishes can come true even without Boxes. The ones who know the significance of a wish coming true. That’s the only difference.

Pursuing you with all my heart is painful. There’s never a day that I find it easy. I rage, lament, and rejoice for you. I break my heart, my body, and the world because of you. But those moments when my fingers brush against a fragment of you are the only moments I can say I’m alive.

Even if you will not be mine in the end…that will not change.

Even though I know the horrible outcome…that will not change.

I will seek out the Maria within me.

I will disappear. Maybe this is an end I brought on myself by holding on to such an unexpected wish? To be honest, I feel it would’ve been better if I’d never met you. But if I could choose between a life where I met you and a life where I didn’t, I would choose the one that brought us together. I would choose it over and over again. I would choose it wholeheartedly. Even though it’s led to nothing but worry and confusion, nothing but regret and questions of how it came to this.

I’m sure that when I vanish, I will meet my end unfulfilled.

But I’m not enough of a philosopher to say I’m fine with that.

I still dream, even now.

I dream that I might receive some small reward—that I might get a happy ending.