Taki's consciousness, like a drowning person struggling to surface, suddenly broke through the water.
The bright light before her eyes made her instinctively squint, and after the dizziness receded like a tide, she found herself lying face up on a familiar sickbed.
Haneoka Academy's infirmary was as neat, quiet, and even somewhat rigid as ever.
The glass of the medicine cabinet reflected cold light, the instruments were meticulously arranged, and the air was filled with a mixture of lemon cleaner and a faint medicinal scent.
The afternoon sun streaming in through the window cast long, slanted patches of light on the floor, warm and inviting.
She propped herself up and sat, instinctively moving her limbs. The excruciating pain that had felt like it was tearing her body apart, that bone-deep weakness, had vanished without a trace.
Aside from a lingering mental fatigue and an indescribable 'emptiness,' her body felt only the softness of having slept for a long time.
The hysterical Takagi Naoko, the life-threatening sense of crisis, the blond man disguised as the school doctor... was it really just an overly vivid nightmare?
"Was it really a dream? That would be..."
Taki murmured to herself, but her chest felt like it was pressed down by a heavy stone, making her feel uneasy.
Takagi's twisted, ferocious face, her tear-filled eyes brimming with madness and despair, and that 'confession' she seemed to scream with her last breath—every detail was searingly clear, etched deep into her mind.
If this was a dream, it was too cruelly real.
She rubbed her temples hard, trying to dispel the unpleasant feeling, but it ultimately dissolved into a heavy sigh.
Fatigue surged again, and she decided to lie back down, letting her groggy head rest for a moment longer.
Just as she relaxed her body and the back of her head was about to touch the pillow, her peripheral vision caught sight of the other side of the bed.
A figure sat there quietly.
A familiar figure.
"You're awake, Taki. You slept for a long time. Is it still early enough for lunch?" Umiri's voice chimed, carrying her usual calm. She looked at Taki's sleepy, slightly dazed face, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Eh... are you alright?" Taki blurted out, her voice hoarse from sleep and a hint of tension.
"Just a minor injury, it's nothing." Umiri gently tilted her chin up, her cool demeanor as always. "You, on the other hand, slept here all morning."
"Me?" Taki pointed to herself in confusion.
"Seeing how soundly you were sleeping, I took the liberty of moving you to the bed," Umiri said with a hint of mischief, "Satisfied with the experience?"
"Ugh... meddling. You should have just woken me up."
Taki habitually turned her head away, avoiding her friend's teasing gaze, trying to hide her slightly flushed cheeks.
This was indeed something Umiri would say, something she would do.
But... something was off.
A subtle yet distinct sense of incongruity abruptly pierced Taki's muddled thoughts.
Before her was Umiri, the familiar infirmary; everything seemed logical. But beneath this 'normalcy,' an indescribable 'unreality' surged. It was like looking through a thin, vision-distorting fog.
She couldn't find a specific flaw, but her intuition screamed a warning.
Just as Taki instinctively curled her fingers under the thin blanket, a cold, hard sensation came from her palm.
This is...
She suddenly clenched the object. Its sharp edges dug into her soft palm, bringing a chill and a sense of confirmation.
"Umiri." Taki's voice was unusually calm; she didn't even turn to look at the person by the bed.
"Hm?" Umiri responded, her tone natural.
"Why..." Taki asked slowly, word by word.
"Why aren't you calling me [Taki-chan] anymore?"
"...Huh?"
A short, incredulous gasp came from the bedside.
Taki could imagine Umiri's stunned expression, as if struck by lightning. This reaction was too... ordinary, not fitting Umiri's personality.
Dozens of seconds of silence were heavy, almost suffocating.
Ultimately, the person by the bed did not utter that affectionate nickname.
"You're not Umiri after all..." Taki finally turned her head, her amethyst eyes fixed on that familiar yet utterly strange face, her tone resolute.
"Why? Because of that sickeningly sweet nickname?"
The astonishment on 'Umiri's' face quickly faded, replaced by an intrigued scrutiny, a playful smile curving her lips.
"No..."
Taki turned her face away again, as if she didn't want to look at that mask anymore.
She withdrew the hand from under the thin blanket and, in the bright afternoon sun, slowly opened her palm. A small, silver ear cuff, glinting coldly, lay quietly between her palm lines.
"Before, I took one from her." Taki's voice was soft, yet it echoed clearly in the overly quiet infirmary.
"And you now..." Her sentence was unfinished, but the meaning was already crystal clear.
Hearing this, "Umiri" suddenly let out a low laugh, the sound clear and pleasant, yet utterly devoid of warmth.
She elegantly, with a feline languor, gently tilted her head. The sunlight perfectly illuminated her earlobes, where two silver earrings, identical to the one in Taki's palm, swayed gently with her movement, reflecting dazzling light.
"How perceptive," she deliberately drew out her words, each syllable laced with teasing, "Taki... -chan."
The girl's body shuddered violently and uncontrollably, a surge of humiliated anger instantly rushing to her head. She abruptly wanted to throw off the blanket and sit up to question him.
However, in the instant of her movement, an even colder realization gripped her—anger was meaningless. This being before her was a monster capable of easily nullifying Takagi Naoko's violent power, capable of toying with reality in the palm of his hand.
Forcing down her churning emotions, Taki's body instead shrank deeper into the blanket, as if the thin fabric could offer some illusory protection.
Her voice carried an almost imperceptible tremor, along with deep weariness and... pleading.
"You... please, don't tease me anymore."
"This earring, you intentionally put it in my hand, didn't you?"
"Please, don't do this anymore." She took a deep breath, trying to make her voice sound calm.
"I... I'm really very ordinary... I don't have any talent, nor do I possess the power of Takagi-san. I'm not someone you need to pay attention to."
"I'm not even as good as Takagi..." Her voice dropped, tinged with a bitter self-mockery, "At least, she can speak her true feelings..."
"I won't tell anyone about today's events... Please..." Her head buried deeper in the blanket, "At least spare Umiri. She shouldn't have been involved in today's incident..."
As the girl's low words faded, she clearly felt the pervasive sense of 'harmony,' like a perfect stage setting, rapidly disintegrating like a receding tide.
The false tranquility peeled away like a torn canvas. The clean, tidy, sunlit infirmary scene before her violently twisted and faded, like a TV screen with poor signal.
In a blink, the illusion collapsed, revealing a cold and cruel reality.
Scattered medicines and gauze fragments, an overturned chair, a damaged wardrobe, and the air filled with a stronger scent of disinfectant and a faint, almost imperceptible smell of rust.
This was reality.
The only thing that brought the girl a slight sense of relief was seeing her friend lying on the adjacent bed, still unconscious, but her complexion had improved significantly.
And the golden figure, who had arrived like a phantom and pressed the pause button on this out-of-control nightmare, stood quietly not far from her bed.
Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting dappled shadows on him. He was no longer in 'Umiri's' form, having reverted to his original appearance—the blond young man with an inhuman elegance and mystery.
The feeling of physical weakness surged back like a tide; the brief 'normalcy' in the illusion seemed to have drained her last bit of strength. The mental shock, moreover, crushed the strong facade Shiina Taki had always used to support herself.
She could no longer maintain that stubbornness and calm. In her purple eyes, various complex emotions converged into a sense of powerlessness, exposing the softest part of her inner self.
"Seeking safety by showing weakness?" the young man spoke, his voice low and pleasant, like the strings of a cello, yet carrying a power that pierced the heart.
He slowly walked around the bed, came to stand directly in front of Taki, and pulled up a surviving chair to sit down. This proximity allowed Taki to clearly feel the invisible, illusory quality about him.
He leaned slightly forward, a few strands of golden hair falling across his forehead, his gaze resting on Taki's hand, which clutched the edge of the blanket, knuckles white.
"But to put your companion before yourself in this situation," he paused, his tone seeming to genuinely hold a hint of admiration, "This friendship is truly precious..."
"However, you seem to have misunderstood one thing."
The expression on the young man's face was no longer ambiguous, replaced by an absolute, unquestionable certainty.
"Shiina Taki, my target today has always been only you." He declared clearly, word for word.
"Your sister, Takagi, Umiri... whatever happens to them, it won't change this fact."
He paused slightly, watching the girl's pupils contract in shock, watching her slender body tremble uncontrollably, before slowly continuing.
"I have come for you."
"Wh-what do you mean?" Taki's voice was so dry it was almost inaudible, her eyes filled with incredulous confusion and unease.
He came for her? Someone like her, without talent, forever unable to catch up to the brilliance of a genius, unable even to understand her own true feelings—was she worth this terrifying individual coming in person?
The young man didn't answer directly. He extended his hand, gently, with a seemingly genuine sincerity, and took Taki's hand, which lay outside the blanket, slightly curled from tension.
His fingertips were cool. The moment he touched her, Taki's body trembled again, instinctively wanting to pull back, but he held her with a seemingly gentle, yet irresistible grip.
The young man leaned in slightly, much closer, his golden hair almost brushing Taki's cheek. His crisp, unfamiliar scent almost enveloped her.
"Hey, Taki..." His voice was very low, like a lover's whisper.
"Do you believe in 'Gravity'?"
Taki completely froze, her mind blank, able only to passively feel the coolness of his fingertips and the weight of his words.
"Do you believe that our meeting today, everything you've encountered... has some kind of meaning?"
"You... what are you talking about?" Taki's voice trembled, completely unable to comprehend his erratic, esoteric words.
The young man released her hand, but his hand did not immediately withdraw. Instead, it reached into the inner pocket of his black trench coat.
When he opened his palm again, an object lay quietly within it.
It was an extremely tiny, rhomboid object, perhaps only the size of a pinky fingernail. It was completely transparent, as pure as a solidified drop of water, or like an extremely compressed ice crystal.
Sunlight streamed through the broken window, falling precisely on this tiny crystal, and prismatic light quietly refracted from within it.
The light was not dazzling, yet it possessed a captivating magic that made Taki unable to tear her gaze away.
"Encounters between people are due to 'Gravity,' and the source of 'Gravity' is one's 'Self.'" The young man's voice sounded again, accompanied by the prismatic light in his palm, full of a strange infectiousness.
He raised his other hand, his fingertip gently brushing the dazzling crystal. The light seemed to flow more docilely under his touch.
"The stronger a person's 'Self,' the more solid it is, the more pronounced and irresistible the 'Gravity' generated from the depths of that soul becomes."
"Taki, our meeting today was not an accident."
"Your 'Self' contains potential unmatched by others. Even if you still feel lost now, unable to see the path ahead..." He paused slightly, as if seeing through her inner struggles and self-doubt.
"But the power deep within you, that potential you haven't fully recognized yourself, still emanates a strong Gravity like a lighthouse in the dark, attracting me."
Saying this, the young man gently lifted Taki's still-curled hand. His movement was incredibly gentle, with a soft yet firm guidance.
He carefully, delicately, placed the iridescent crystal from his palm onto Taki's cool and slightly trembling palm.
"I want to give you this 'meteorite fragment' as a gift for our meeting."
He watched Taki instinctively grasp the fragment, and continued:
"I don't know what impression you have of me... perhaps fear, perhaps unease, perhaps just pure confusion..."
"But I am looking for trustworthy friends, and companions who can embark on a 'journey' together."
His gaze once again became intense and focused, firmly locking onto Taki's bewildered eyes.
"If one day, you wish to see me, to understand all of this..." He guided Taki's hand, making her fully clench the fragment, "Then direct your intention towards this fragment, and call out to me."
"No matter where you are, no matter how many years pass, it won't matter..."
The young man slowly stood up, his figure appearing somewhat ethereal in the fragmented light and shadow. His fingers, with their cool touch, brushed lightly over the girl's hand once more.
Then, he calmly retreated to the stained white curtain hanging beside the sickbed. His figure paused slightly by the curtain, then, like ink blending into water, silently vanished behind it.
In the infirmary, only the occasional sound of wind from outside remained, along with Shiina Taki's rapid and chaotic heartbeat. She sat stiffly on the sickbed, her palm tightly clutching the 'meteorite fragment' that still emitted a faint warmth and peculiar iridescence.
What... was this, after all?
And what... should she do?
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
To Read Advanced Chapters, and support this novel, please join me on [email protected]/geats2000