That morning went by as usual.
Arou entered the classroom and sat at his desk. The seat beside him was still empty. He opened his book, staring at the blackboard without really focusing.
Not long after, someone came in and immediately sat in the seat beside him.
Mei.
She placed her bag under the desk and took out her book. Simple.
The lesson began.
"What page?" Mei asked quietly.
"Thirty-two."
Mei nodded and opened her book. They read in silence.
A few minutes later, Arou stopped writing. His hand gripped the pen too tightly. His gaze became distant.
Mei glanced at him.
"What's wrong with your head?"
"Just a little dizzy."
Mei slid her water bottle toward Arou without saying much.
Arou looked at it for a moment, then took it.
"Thanks."
The dismissal bell rang.
The classroom immediately became noisy. Arou was still sitting, taking a deep breath.
Mei did not hurry to leave.
"You look tired," she said. "Not physically tired."
Arou let out a small sigh.
"Is it that obvious?"
"A little."
Arou stood up and put his books into his bag.
"Let's go."
They left the classroom side by side. The voices of other students echoed noisily through the hallway.
"You don't have to tell me anything," Mei said. "I'm just sitting beside you today."
Arou nodded.
"That's enough."
Their steps were slow, without any particular destination.
For a moment,
the emptiness inside Arou did not feel quite as suffocating.
The school gate was beginning to empty.
Arou and Mei walked side by side, neither too close nor too far apart. Their steps were slow, as if neither of them wanted to arrive too quickly.
"Do we live in the same direction?" Mei asked.
"Yeah. Until the intersection up ahead."
"Oh."
Mei nodded. "That explains it."
Silence followed for a few seconds.
A gentle afternoon breeze blew past, carrying the sound of dry leaves scraping against the asphalt.
"You often look empty," Mei suddenly said. Her tone was flat, not accusing.
Arou gave a faint smile.
"People say that a lot."
"Not empty because you're tired from studying," Mei continued. "More like… you lost something."
Arou's steps slowed.
"You're perceptive," he said.
Mei shrugged.
"I just like observing things."
They stopped briefly at a crosswalk.
"The seat beside you," Mei said quietly. "Who used to sit there?"
Arou stared at the red traffic light.
"My friend."
"Did she transfer schools?"
"No."
Mei looked at him.
"Did she stop going to school?"
Arou shook his head.
"She… isn't there anymore."
Mei did not answer immediately.
The light turned green. They continued walking.
"Sorry if I'm being nosy," Mei said. "I just feel like the way you treat that empty seat is… strange. But not strange in a bad way."
Arou let out a quiet laugh.
"That seat feels more crowded than this entire classroom."
Mei smiled faintly, then her expression became serious again.
"Arou," she said. "I don't know what you've been through. But when someone really disappears, usually what remains isn't just the memory—"
Mei paused, choosing her words.
"—it's the habits. And you're still living in those habits."
Arou swallowed.
"Maybe," he said.
They reached the intersection.
"Well, my house is this way," Mei said.
Arou nodded.
"Thanks for walking with me."
Mei took two steps, then stopped and looked back.
"I won't force you to tell me anything," she said.
"But one thing."
"What?"
"If someday you start feeling alone in a crowded place—"
Mei pointed toward the school building in the distance.
"—that doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. It means you still remember."
Arou fell silent.
Mei smiled faintly.
"See you tomorrow, Arou."
She walked away.
Arou stood alone at the intersection, watching the road slowly empty.
The loneliness in his chest was still there—
but now,
it had a shape.
Night slowly fell.
The light in Arou's room was off, with only moonlight entering through the window. The house was silent—too silent, as if no one had ever lived there.
Arou sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the floor.
Then—
a voice sounded.
Not from outside the room.
Not from inside his head.
"How are you, protagonist?"
Arou's body tensed.
"…Zata?"
"Correct."
Arou stood up.
His eyes scanned the room, but there was no one there.
"Your voice… sounds different," Arou said quietly.
"Because I am no longer in your world."
Arou clenched his fists.
"Like you said… you took over the story."
"Did I?"
"So now you can mess with the real world?" Arou asked.
Zata let out a small laugh—calm and dismissive.
"Of course. And it is very easy."
Arou took a deep breath.
"So… you're not just my soul?"
"I am indeed your soul."
"However, I have already left you."
Arou fell silent.
"Left…? Then what are you now?"
There was a brief silence.
"I am in a world higher than yours."
"What you have seen all this time was merely the manifestation of my weakest form."
Arou frowned.
"Weak?"
Zata chuckled softly.
"In that form alone, you could destroy everything. And you call it weak?"
"According to me, yes."
Arou let out a long sigh.
"That's insane."
Silence once again filled the room.
Then Arou remembered something.
"Oh, right," he said.
"You said you were going to give me a gift."
"Correct."
"Is that gift… Mei?" Arou asked hesitantly.
"No."
Zata's answer was quick and firm.
"She is not a gift."
Arou raised an eyebrow.
"Then Mei…?"
"Just a human."
"A human who happens to live in your world."
Arou looked toward the window.
The streetlight outside flickered softly.
"So… everything that happened with her," Arou said, "wasn't your plan?"
"No."
Arou remained silent for a long time.
"…I see."
"Your gift will come."
"But not now."
"And its value is far greater than a mere encounter."
Zata's voice began to fade.
"Zata," Arou called out quickly.
"What?"
"…What if I regret it?"
Silence.
"Regret is proof that you are still human."
"And that is not a weakness."
The voice disappeared completely.
Arou sat back down on the bed.
For the first time in a long while, he realized—
His loneliness was no longer merely a loss.
It was a pause…
before something greater arrived.
That night, Arou fell asleep without any nightmares.
But in his dream—
he stood in an empty white space.
One by one, figures appeared before him.
Faces he knew all too well.
Nova smiled briefly.
Shion nodded without a word.
Rei looked at him calmly.
Feeth gave a faint grin.
Arthur stood tall, then tapped his chest once.
There was no sound.
No words of farewell.
They simply smiled…
then disappeared one by one, like lights slowly fading away.
Arou woke up.
The morning sky looked ordinary.
The empty room remained silent.
Arou got up, got ready, and left for school like the days before.
Along the way, his steps were slow.
His mind wandered—not toward the dream, not toward Zata, not toward his losses.
Empty.
When the pedestrian light turned green, Arou stepped forward.
He did not hear the sound of a horn.
He did not notice the large shadow speeding toward him from the side.
Several people shouted.
"HEY—!"
A truck sped uncontrollably toward him.
And—
CRASH!!
A deafening impact rang out.
But it wasn't Arou's body that was thrown backward.
The truck—
was destroyed.
Its front end was completely crushed, the windshield shattered, and the metal bent as if it had crashed into an invisible wall.
Arou stood in the middle of the road.
Still exactly where he had been.
Not a scratch.
He hadn't even fallen.
Even his uniform remained perfectly neat.
He lowered his gaze, looking at his own hands.
"Huh?"
The people around him fell silent.
A woman covered her mouth.
A man took a step back, his face pale.
The truck driver stared at Arou with wide, trembling eyes.
"That… just hit him, right?"
"The truck was destroyed…"
"But that kid…?"
Arou raised his head.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on him, filled with fear, confusion, and disbelief.
Arou took one step backward.
Then another.
He turned toward the road leading to school—
and without saying a word, he walked away.
There was only one thought in his mind:
…so this is what he meant.
The gift… has already begun to work.