When you lose yourself in brief moments of joy, you can forget your troubles for a while.
But when the noise fades, what remains?
Nothing but deeper confusion, and an emptier loneliness.
In simpler words, when you're alone at night, the unpleasant things you'd rather forget are the ones that come back to haunt you most easily.
I lay on my soft bed, hugging a blue whale pillow, tossing and turning.
It was far past the hour I normally fell asleep, yet tonight, small, tangled thoughts kept me awake.
So, I got up.
"…We thirst for the seven wailings."
"…We bear the koan of jericho."
...
[Password accepted. User identified as Sensei. Confirmed.]
My consciousness slipped into the mysterious realm within Shittim Chest.
Careful not to wake Arona, who was fast asleep, I left the crumbling classroom.
I walked alone along the beach, following the shoreline until the classroom behind me had become nothing but a faint, dark speck in the distance.
I sat down, watching the vast, tranquil sea as its surface dim beneath the shimmer of scattered starlight.
Now, I could somewhat understand why Hoshino loved the ocean.
Though, of course, not for the same reason she did.
The thought alone stirred my melancholy again.
No matter how hard I tried to pretend otherwise,
this was the greatest setback I'd suffered since arriving in Kivotos.
When Serika had been taken by the Helmet Gang, when Yukino had aimed a gun at me, or even when facing Wakamo, whose intentions I couldn't read. I'd overcome all those trials with my wit, courage, and charm.
But this time was different.
Even if I really did defeat the Kaiser Corporation and brought Hoshino back, what then?
Ever since she'd called me a liar in front of everyone, there had been an unshakable wall between us.
I had to admit that my motives weren't pure.
Though I never bore her any malice, and part of me genuinely wanted to help them. I also had selfish reasons, the hope of gaining something for myself.
But the effort and heart I'd poured into Abydos... were those not real?
I couldn't accept that Hoshino had never trusted me.
Nor could I accept her stubborn refusal to listen to others.
To me, that was unmistakable betrayal.
But to Hoshino, perhaps I had always been an enemy.
If everything I did was seen as deceit, then how could she even call it betrayal?
Our argument had only been the surface, the true divide lay in our opposing perspectives.
And that kind of fracture would never heal.
Even if part of me still missed what we once had,
that proud Hoshino would never lower her head, admit fault, and ask for forgiveness.
Then I would never forgive her either.
In other words,
I had lost a friend, forever.
Maybe that was fine.
At least now, I could wake from my illusions,
and finally accept that in this world, things never go the way you wish.
I understood reality, but the more I did, the heavier my heart became.
Watching the tide shimmer under the stars, my mind refused to settle.
"Sensei."
I heard someone call from behind me.
And in this place, there could only be one other person.
Arona sat beside me, her white dress dusted with fine grains of sand.
She hugged her knees, tilting her head, the usually energetic and foolish Arona now wore a quiet, gentle expression.
"Are you still upset about what happened earlier today?"
I hadn't expected this.
Who knew Arona could do anything besides eating, sleeping, and playing around, let alone care about someone?
It felt like watching a mischievous child finally grow up.
Her concern caught me off guard, but it also touched me.
Even the heavy gloom inside me lightened a little.
I shook my head and lied. "I'm fine."
"Hmm! That's a lie!" Arona puffed her cheeks, frowning. "Sensei always smiles so silly when you see me! But now it looks so forced, of course something's wrong!"
…Wait, that's how she sees me?
It hit me suddenly, maybe I'd spoiled her too much.
I'd lost all the dignity of an adult in her eyes.
Couldn't really blame her, though.
Still… sugar intake really isn't good for one's health.
Starting tomorrow, I'll have to cut her dessert and drink portions in half.
Two completely unrelated decisions, obviously.
Arona, unaware of my dark designs, continued gently:
"Sensei, don't be sad over something like that. Even if everyone else hates you, calls you a hopeless scumbag, spits on everything you do, and leaves you without looking back, Arona will always stay by your side!"
Was that supposed to be comfort or a curse?!
I didn't even want to respond.
"…Arona, can I ask you something?"
"Hmm? What is it?"
"You were listening today, right?"
She must have known exactly what I meant, even if I didn't say it outright.
Arona pouted, unhappy with my implied doubt. "Of course! How could I not be there when Sensei needs me?"
"Then why don't you ever help me with paperwork?"
"Do you really want me to handle paperwork?"
In that instant, an image flashed in my mind. Rin, her face stone-cold, slamming a pile of improperly formatted, error-riddled reports onto my desk, ordering me to redo everything from scratch.
I decided immediately. "Sorry, forget I asked."
As expected, Arona knew how to weaponize her lack of intelligence to her advantage.
I really had been giving her too many sweets.
After a pause, I asked, "Arona… do you think Hoshino was wrong?"
Arona tilted her head in surprise. "Sensei, you must be really sad to ask me something like that. Haven't you already heard enough people take your side?"
…Okay, maybe today's Arona wasn't being very nice.
But maybe that was better.
Because at this point, gentle comfort and empty reassurance were things I'd already heard too much of.
After a moment's thought, Arona said quietly, "Sensei, I think… what's between you and Hoshino isn't something anyone else can fix."
"Yeah. I suppose that's true."
I let out a long sigh. "How did things end up like this? I honestly don't understand anymore."
"That's only natural," Arona said softly.
"Sensei, people can never truly understand each other."
"Your sadness, your pain, your confusion…
"All of them are born from that simple truth."
Her eyes reflected my face as she said those words. Calm, clear, and unblinking.