Date: April 7, 2026 (Tuesday)
Time: 7:35 PM
Location: Intersection
The woman scrambled to her feet, leaving the stabilized girl with the nursing student. She rushed toward Albert, her face streaked with tears.
"Please, wait! You saved her life. I don't know how to thank you. I'm Himekawa Uzuki and this is my niece. Please, tell us who you are so we can repay you!"
Albert stopped. He didn't turn around. He just wanted to leave.
"And her name," the aunt sobbed, gesturing to the girl on the ground. "Tell him your name, sweetie."
The twelve-year-old girl propped herself up on one elbow, looking at Albert's back with awe.
"Tendo," the girl said weakly. "Tendo Yui."
Albert froze.
The noise of the crowd, the distant sirens, the traffic—it all deadened into a low buzz.
Tendo.
A seventh one.
The mathematical model in his head, the one he used to make sense of the world, shattered. The statistical probability of encountering seven unrelated individuals bearing that specific surname, in an escalating sequence of direct, high-stakes interactions, within a single nine-hour window, was 0.0000001%.
It was no longer a statistical anomaly. It was a targeted variable. The universe wasn't just throwing dice anymore; it was hunting him.
A cold chill, colder than any social anxiety, crawled up his spine.
He didn't look back. He didn't give his name.
He simply adjusted the strap of his bag and walked away into the anonymity of the crowd, leaving the aunt staring at his retreating back, holding a piece of paper that made absolutely no sense to her.
He had only taken a few steps when a girl's voice called out from behind him.
"Hey!"
Albert kept walking. He didn't even flinch.
That line is familiar, he thought.
His mind instantly pulled up the data from this morning. The school hallway. The sweet voice calling out. Raising his hand awkwardly to answer, only for another boy to brush right past his shoulder and claim the girl's attention. The burning heat in his face as he realized they didn't even know he existed.
I bet she will say, 'Why are you ignoring me?' next, Albert calculated grimly.
Two seconds later, the voice called out again.
"Why are you ignoring me?"
Albert kept his eyes locked on the pavement ahead.
Predictable. I am not falling for that same trap again. I am not turning around just to see her talking to someone else. I will not embarrass myself twice in one day.
He maintained his walking speed, ready to merge with the flow of pedestrian traffic.
Then, the girl spoke for a third time.
"Atherton-san!"
Albert froze.
His foot stopped an inch above the concrete. The logical framework in his head crashed completely, flooded by a sudden, chaotic cocktail of emotion. Shock. Confusion. Panic.
That was not a generic, easily misunderstood greeting.
That was his surname.
He slowly turned around. Standing a few meters away was a girl his age. She was wearing the same high school uniform he was. He scanned her face, running it against his memory bank, but the query returned zero results. He did not recognize her at all.
"How do you know my name?" Albert asked, his voice polite but tight with nervous tension.
The girl smiled slightly. "I'm Ogawa Sakura. I'm from Class 1-5, the class right next to yours."
Albert stared at her. Class 1-5. His brain immediately rejected the premise.
Physical proximity of classrooms does not naturally result in the transfer of individual identification data. The probability of a student from an adjacent class knowing my specific surname without a direct social link is extremely low.
A terrifying variable suddenly spiked in his mind.
The crowd. The medical emergency. He looked back toward the pharmacy. The paramedics were just arriving.
"Did you..." Albert swallowed hard, his heart rate spiking again. "Did you see what just happened over there?"
Ogawa tilted her head, her expression blank. "Saw what? I don't know what you are talking about."
Albert instantly let out a long, quiet sigh of relief. The critical threat was neutralized. The data of his medical intervention remained anonymous.
But with the medical emergency over and the threat of exposure gone, his system returned to its default state. His social awareness violently kicked back in. The adrenaline that had allowed him to flawlessly command a crowd of fifty people and save a dying girl had completely evaporated.
He was standing on a sidewalk, alone, talking to a cute girl.
It was a scenario that normally terrified him. His social anxiety re-engaged its primary protocols.
His throat locked up. He didn't know where to look. He just stared at the pavement between their shoes in absolute, suffocating silence.
Ogawa noticed the silence dragging on. She shifted her weight nervously.
"Actually, I was wondering something," Ogawa said, breaking the quiet. "You and Sterling Leo... you both seem to have foreign names. It is highly unusual. Not just one person in a class, but two of you. Our classmates are hesitant to ask Sterling-san about it, so I took the responsibility to ask. And coincidentally, I found you right here."
Sterling Leo.
The name acted as an instant decryption key in Albert's mind. The entire social interaction suddenly made perfect, logical sense.
Of course. The Leo variable. She is not interested in me. She is interested in Leo. My name is simply being utilized as a conversational bridge to acquire data about him.
The realization was completely devoid of jealousy. It was just a comfortable, familiar fact. Once he understood his role as an NPC in Leo's social orbit, the pressure vanished. He could answer a factual question.
"It is a legal legacy," Albert explained, his voice returning to its dry, clinical baseline. "Leo and I are not related, but we share the exact same genealogical background. My great-grandfather was a foreign national who married a Japanese citizen. Independently, Leo's great-grandfather was also a foreign national who married a Japanese citizen."
Ogawa blinked, looking intrigued. "Oh? But how is it registered? Japan has strict naming laws, right?"
"Correct," Albert said, retreating safely into the realm of facts. "Under Family Register Act, if a Japanese citizen marries a foreign national, they have a six-month window to legally change their surname to the foreign spouse's surname. It is registered strictly in Katakana on the Koseki."
Albert adjusted his glasses. "Because our respective ancestors executed this clause, the foreign surnames 'Atherton' and 'Sterling' were permanently embedded into our completely separate family registers."
"Wow. So your first name is Albert..."
"Yes," Albert nodded. "Japanese civil law permits the use of Katakana for given names. Since our families inherited the foreign surnames, our parents logically chose to register our given names in Katakana as well to maintain phonetic symmetry. Legally, on all government documents, I am registered as Azāton Arubāto, and he is registered as Sutāringu Reo."
Albert stopped speaking. He had delivered the requested data with absolute factual accuracy. He waited for Ogawa to process the information, assuming his role in the conversation was now logically concluded.
Ogawa did not walk away. She looked at him, her expression softening.
"Are you thirsty, Atherton-san?" she asked.
Albert's brain stalled. The conversation had abruptly shifted from a factual data exchange to a casual social inquiry. Before he could formulate a negative response, she pointed toward a brightly lit vending machine a few meters down the sidewalk.
"Let's buy some drinks," she said cheerfully.
She started walking. Albert followed her. He didn't know exactly why he moved. His internal protocols usually dictated an immediate retreat from unstructured social interaction, but the physical momentum of her walking simply pulled him along. The social friction of refusing suddenly felt heavier than the friction of complying.
They stopped in front of the vending machine. Ogawa pulled a small coin purse from her skirt pocket.
"What do you want?" she asked, looking at the glowing rows of beverages. "My treat."
"Negative," Albert replied automatically, his hand reaching for his own wallet. "I have my own funds.
I can pay for myself."
Ogawa shook her head and stepped in front of the coin slot, blocking his hand. "Please let me treat you. You answered my questions earlier. It is only fair that I give you payment. Think of it as equivalent exchange."
Equivalent exchange.
The phrase hit a specific, highly receptive node in Albert's brain. It was a fundamental law of transactional physics and theoretical alchemy. Data given equals goods received. The social equation balanced perfectly. The guilt of accepting a free item was mathematically neutralized.
"Understood," Albert said, lowering his hand. "I will accept the equivalent exchange. Water, please."
Ogawa smiled. She fed the coins into the machine, pressed the button for cold mineral water, and then pressed the exact same button again for herself. Two identical plastic bottles dropped into the dispenser bin with a heavy thud.
She handed one to Albert and opened her own. They stood near the glowing machine on the edge of the busy sidewalk.
"What do you usually do for fun?" Ogawa asked, taking a sip of water. "Do you have any hobbies?"