Let's Just Say You're Special, Tsukasa

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Yashiro didn’t show up to class today.

But I didn't have time for him anyway. My mind was entirely occupied with the message from the notebook. I kept replaying those same couple lines in my head.

“Collapsing...”
“Splitting...”
“Overlapping...”

What was overlapping? What was splitting apart? None of the words meant anything. If it was for me, why couldn't they simply tell me? Or, at the very least, could a less cryptic message have been too much to ask?

“Watching...”
“Don't let her in...”

And who was Natsuki Kisaragi? And why was my name there? 

Then the thought came to me. The girl, outside my bedroom window. Could that be it?

I took out a marker and wrote down the name on the backside of my arm.

It must have been all connected somehow. Was it a warning? A clue? Some abstruse prank? It was far too cryptic to be Yashiro’s handiwork, whose antics, while annoying, usually didn't quite meet this level of cerebral complexity. And Minase… Well, Minase hardly struck me as the type to create such an elaborate puzzle just to mess with someone. She was sharp, sure, but not inscrutable. Plus, she was just as confused as I had been during our visit with Sakamoto. 

But if it were a warning, perhaps I could get to the bottom of all of this. Maybe this Kisaragi girl might be the answer to my problems. 

So after class was over, I began to investigate. 

I asked around to see if anyone knew who she was, but none of the students in my vicinity could recall a Natsuki Kisaragi.

After that didn’t work, I checked the student directory for a Natsuki Kisaragi. Carefully scanning, then re-scanning each name to make sure I didn’t miss anyone.

Natsuki Kadokawa…
Natsuki Kawamura…
Natsuki Koyama…

But no Natsuki Kisaragi.

I went to a counselor to confirm, but apparently no student under that name attended our school.

Then I searched online to see if she might have any social media accounts.

Zero results.

I even checked my phone contacts in case anyone with the name had somehow found its way in there. Nothing.

There was no trace of Natsuki Kisaragi anywhere to be found.

It was hopeless. Perhaps she didn’t even exist.

“I give up,” I whispered to myself.

I decided that the best thing to do now was to forget about all of this nonsense. The codes, the notebook, Minase. I had more important things to do. Projects, exams, college. My whole future was at stake. And of course, that dumb festival Sayuri kept bugging me about—

Wait.

Sayuri.

That day in the student council room—after festival prep.

She’d said something weird.

“Not everything broken is meant to be fixed...”

It had caught me off guard at the time. I thought she was just being melodramatic. Or maybe tired.

“If someone tells you it’s for your own good... don’t believe them right away.”

But what if…

Classes were over for the day, and knowing her, she’d be preparing for the festival right about now.

I ran to the student council room, but she wasn’t there.

There were only a few places she might be—festival stuff in the student council room, maybe grabbing late snacks in the courtyard—

Or…

The rooftop.

Sayuri once said the rooftop was her favorite spot when she wanted to “escape the chaos” or “feel taller than her problems,” whatever that meant.

Perhaps she was up there.

So, I headed for the stairs.

Like the first time, the stairs up to the roof were quiet and empty. I prayed that I’d find her this time because I had no other ideas where she might be.

I reached the final landing, hand hesitating on the handle. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. Answers? Clarity? Maybe I just didn’t want to feel like I was the only one losing it.

I pushed open the door.

And there she was.

Sayuri stood near the edge, hands resting on the railing, her back to me. She was looking up at the afternoon sky. Faint stars were already beginning to peek through the orange. The wind tugged gently at her long hair and uniform sleeves.

I stepped out, letting the door close behind me with a soft click.

She turned at the sound of the door. Her face lit up. “Tsukasa? Oh my god, don’t tell me you finally came up here for once?”

“Hey,” I said.

“Took you long enough! I’ve only been telling you this place has the best view since, like, forever.” She replied happily, jumping in her spot.

She patted the spot next to her on the railing. “Come on. It’s nice. The wind makes you feel dramatic for no reason.”

I walked over, slower than usual, and leaned against the edge beside her. The wind was a little cold.

“I didn’t come up here for the view,” I said.

“Oh?” She looked at me, a little teasing. “You came up here for me? How bold.”

I didn’t answer right away.

Her smile faded slightly. “What’s up?”

I reached into my bag and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper—Minase’s copy of the message. I handed it to her. She took it and unfolded the paper. Her eyes scanned the lines slowly. She seemed uncomfortable, almost anxious.

“So… we found these messages in Minase’s notebook…” I said. "Do you know what this is?"

Sayuri didn’t respond.

She stayed quiet, staring at the page.

“Sayuri,” I said, more quietly this time. “You were acting strange after the festival prep. You said something about things being broken. About people pretending to fix them—”

She cut me off.

“…I remember.”

Her smile was gone entirely. There was a shine forming in her eyes as if she were about to cry. Her fingers trembled, the way they do when you’re trying not to let it show.

“I’ll get in trouble for this…” she whispered, voice barely audible.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

She took a shaky breath and turned away, wiping at her face with her sleeves. “I’m not—” she started, then stopped, jaw tightening. Her voice was steadier when she spoke again, but barely. 

“I’m not who you think I am.”

I stared at her.

“Sayuri?”

She was really scaring me now.

“I wanted to keep things normal. I thought… I thought if I just played my part, it would be fine. That maybe things would fix themselves. But it’s getting worse. I see that now.”

“Sayuri, you’re not making any sen—”

“She’s coming.” She whispered, abruptly cutting me off.

“Who’s coming? If you’re talking about the girl in the notebook, I looked all over for her. She doesn’t go to this school. She probably doesn’t even exist.”

Sayuri looked down, as if that confirmed something for her. “That’s not by accident.” 

She folded the page one more time, slowly, methodically, and handed it back to me. “Please listen, Tsukasa. She is… dangerous. I don’t know exactly what she’s planning, but I do know she thinks she’s helping. She always thinks she’s helping.”

I swallowed.

“Helping with what?”

Sayuri didn’t answer.

“Just… promise me something,” she said. “If she ever finds you. If she talks to you… don’t believe the first thing she says. Please. She sees things differently. To her, people aren’t people. They’re variables. And if she thinks erasing someone will balance the equation…”

She trailed off. Her fists were clamped now, and there was an anger building in her voice.

“Sayuri, what are you talking about? What equation?”

She ignored me. And for the first time since I walked up, she looked into my eyes.

“Just be careful,” she said softly. “Please.”

Then she walked off without looking back.

⊹ ▬ ▬ ⊹ ⊹ ▬ ▬ ▬ ⊹

The rooftop door clicked shut behind me.

My head was spinning, a mess of words and warnings and the look in Sayuri’s eyes that I couldn’t shake. I had so many questions. My mind was spinning.

I’m not who you think I am.

What was that supposed to mean? And who was coming? What did she mean by variables?

None of it made sense. None of it.

By the time I reached the first floor, I wasn’t sure where I was going. I just knew I had to get away from the rooftop, from the broken look on her face.

I stepped into the hallway.

And stopped.

Leaning against the wall across from the stairwell, arms folded and one foot propped behind him like he’d been there for a while, was Yashiro.

“Long day?” he asked casually.

I stared at him.

“Yashiro, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.”

I didn’t smile. This all seemed off.

“So… Sayuri—”

Then he cut me off. He gestured down the hall. “Care to join me in the library?”

⊹ ▬ ▬ ⊹ ⊹ ▬ ▬ ▬ ⊹

The walk was quiet, eerily so.

We entered through the main doors, nodding to the librarian as we passed. Yashiro led me straight to the back, weaving through the maze of shelves until we reached our usual corner.

He dropped his bag onto the table and sat down with a sigh, like this was routine. Like he’d done this a hundred times before.

I sat down slowly across from him.

The space around us felt heavy, the way it did when you sat in the principal’s office after getting in trouble. I didn’t know what Yashiro was planning to say, but I knew it wasn’t normal.

For a moment, there was only silence. Yashiro looked down at the ground in his seat with a seriousness I had never seen before. Then finally, he spoke.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something, but it’s… hard to explain. And even harder to believe,” he said, carefully choosing each word. “To be truthful, Tsukasa, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

He looked over his shoulder, as if checking if anyone was listening.

Then he whispered:

“I’m not exactly who you think I am.”

I was taken aback. First Sayuri, now this? This couldn’t be real. It had to be a prank. It had to be.

“I mean, I am Yashiro,” he added quickly. “I’ve always been your friend. That’s always been real. But there’s more to me... and I'm going against everything I've ever been taught by telling you this...”

I followed his eyes, trying to understand. Trying to comprehend where he was going.

He looked away, as if to avoid eye contact. “I’ve been tasked… assigned, really… to watch over… well, you.”

“Assigned?” I repeated. I felt dehydrated. 

“Yeah…”

“See, Tsukasa. I am what you might call… ehh… a sort of agent. Not from any organization here though. More like one that... works outside of the boundaries of your world.”

“Yashiro?” I asked slowly, my voice cracking. "What are you talking about?"

“Well, our duty, or job, or whatever, is to look for anomalies. Sort of like lookouts in a watchtower, or a seismologist who monitors earthquakes.”

“See, there’s a framework we use to understand it. A theory. Well, more than a theory, really. People, everyone actually... they’re connected in some way. At least, metaphysically speaking. Let’s just say you’re a special person, Tsukasa…”

I didn’t respond. What did he mean, special?

“Now, normally, all’s well. Nothing to be worried about. I’d still be teasing you about Minase and beating you in Super Smash Bros, heh. But… something happened. None of us expected it."

He trailed off for a moment. 

"See, usually you'd only be occupying one consciousness at a time, but now you’re not the only one in your head space anymore.”

“We call it Kasane-ron. It roughly means ‘The Layered Self'," he tapped a blank spot on the table between us. "It's sorta like a fresh painting that's dripping paint onto a canvas below it. Slowly the colors begin to bleed and mix with each other. Or like a leaf falling onto a koi pond. The ripples cause the reflections of the sky and the water to blend, but eventually both become a part of the same image, so to speak.”

“And there’s where she comes in...” He closed his eyes for a moment, like he was considering if whatever he was about to say was worth it. “Her name is Haruki Amane.”

The second he said it, something inside me lurched. A rush of blood flooded my brain. My heart was racing now. My mind was numb. My mouth struggled to produce words.

Yashiro sensed it. 

“You’ve seen her, huh? She’s not from here. Not from this version of the world, anyway.”

I went pale. He knew. But how? My breathing became heavier. I could only sit with my arms by my sides, frozen in shock.

"Sayuri said something to me," I managed to muster. 

Yashiro quietly sighed, as if he knew exactly what I'd meant. 

He gathered his thoughts then responded. "Well there's this controversial theory... that in order to save what still exists, the "error" must be erased. Not everyone agrees, including myself. Not everyone believes that it will fix things. But my stubborn colleague—” 

He stopped himself just short. 

“Anyway, some believe they’re protecting something. Their world, maybe? But their methods might just make things a whole lot worse.”

He stood up and pushed his chair in. As he walked off, he said without turning back to face me: 

“I can't help you for much longer, Tsukasa. It's not my choice to make.”

And then he turned the corner. 

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