I sat at the table, absentmindedly poking at my food. My mind kept looping back to that moment in the club room.
That smirk. That line.
Did she really flip my own words on me?
From across the table, Airi spoke through a mouthful of rice.
"You look weirder than usual. What are you thinking about? I mean, you've been weird since birth—but this is next level."
I blinked. "How would you even know what I was like at birth? You weren't there."
"So what are you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
"You can't think about nothing. Nothing is… nothing."
I shot her a dry look
"I didn't know you can think"
She stopped chewing. Looked at me. Closed her mouth slowly.
A moment of peace.
I returned to my food.
"You can't think about nothing. Nothing is… nothing."
I stared at my screen, mind still spinning.
Why was Haruka practicing… even though I'm not giving her any meaning to practice?
A beat passed.
I'm thinking too much. I need to cool down.
I pulled my chair closer and launched my favorite online game.
As the loading screen buzzed to life, a quiet ding broke the silence.
I glanced at the corner of the screen.
Oh shi— I completely forgot about the festival...
From the hallway:
"NO BAD WORDS"
I sighed.
"How do you always hear that?"
---
I clicked the email.
Subject: Your Role in the School Festival
You've been assigned to assist with the stage prep team. Report to Room 3-C after school tomorrow.
I squinted at the screen, annoyed.
"Why would you decide my role without my opinion?"
I shot back the message and crossed my arms.
A minute later, a reply came:
Because you were asleep while your classmates were choosing. Actions have consequences, Mr. Philosopher.
I groaned, muttering under my breath.
"Tch... this is so stupid."
From the hallway:
"NO BAD WORDS!!"
I slumped deeper into my chair
The next day, I dragged my feet into Room 3-C.
"Hey, stage prep team," someone called.
It was her.
"How do you know?"
"Because I set you up."
"Why?"
"I have the same role. I figured I'd take the chance to understand how your brain works."
"I'm not some kind of puzzle you can solve."
"Maybe. But you hide something. I want to see what's behind it."
She smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not stalking you. I just find you interesting."
"Interesting?"
"Yeah. You talk about meaning and existence... but I think there's more behind that."
"She's wrong," I thought. "There's nothing. Just a hollow echo. But why does her voice echo louder than mine right now?"
"Whatever. Just don't get in my way."
"I wasn't planning to."
"What triggered you to think that way?"
"Nothing."
"How can nothing make you think so deeply?"
"...Why should I explain myself to someone who only exists because I gave her meaning?"
"You're not surprised?"
"Why would I be? I already knew you'd say that."
"How?"
"Because you're too predictable."
"I'm the one who gives 'predictable' meaning."
"Do you know why I said that?"
She leans in.
"Because I knew you'd try to explain yourself… if I called you predictable."
"You asked what triggered me? It's nothing. Because... nothing doesn't pretend to be something. Everything else is just meaning I gave."
She studied me, then smiled softly.
"...You really believe that?"
"It's not about belief. It's about what's left when everything else is stripped away. And all that's left is nothing. That's where it started."
Suddenly, someone called out from across the room.
"Hey! Can you guys help us move this thing over there?"
They both turned. It was the class president.
He blinked. "Huh? What were you two talking about?"
She replied casually.
"Oh, nothing."
For some reason… that answer made the protagonist laugh. A quiet, dry laugh he didn't expect.
The class president tilted his head.
"You know… I don't think I've ever seen you talk to anyone in this class."
The girl smirked.
"He just has a really weird way of thinking."
The protagonist's eyes widened.
"Never tell that to anyone else."
She leaned in slightly, teasing.
"Why would you be embarrassed by someone who was created by you?"
He didn't answer. Just stood there… silent.
Then walked away to help with the stage prep.
She watched him walk away, silent and flustered. A soft smirk tugged at her lips.
"Maybe I've gone too far," she whispered to herself.