Chapter 42: Our Scenery

"I'm already dead, you know."

Shiren—appearing in Reicia's form, yet carrying a strangely mature air—spoke while gazing upward.

"I spent a really long time in bed. All I could do was browse the net, watch anime, read light novels, read manga... and go through treatments, I guess. But honestly, it was perfect for taking my mind off things. Stories opened up all kinds of worlds."

Each word that left Shiren’s lips seemed to make the air around them grow heavier. As if the weight of their life was slowly leaking out into the space surrounding them.

"……"

"But even then, there were things I couldn’t stop thinking about. Like the unavoidable fact that I was going to die. I tried everything I could. I went through every treatment the hospital could offer, even gave dietary therapies a shot. Toward the end, I finally came to terms with it."

Shiren said that with a small laugh.

They had given up. Tried everything—failed—and then lived out the rest of their days waiting for the end.

"Death is inevitable. Everyone dies someday. What matters is what you do with your time until then... So I decided that’s what I’d believe. I mean, in the end, I just spent my time watching anime and stuff, even though I said that."

Reicia said nothing.

And in that silence, it finally became clear. The heavy presence of “death” that clung to this place where she and Shiren stood—and the reason for it.

Shiren had probably been giving up for a long time. In their world—one without magic or super-science—terminal cancer was a promise of death. With not even a one-in-a-million chance of survival, Shiren must have slowly let go of their hope to live, dying little by little.

Because holding on to that hope... hurts too much.

So instead, they embraced other kinds of hope—ones that wouldn't hurt so badly even in the face of death.

Hope in the goodness of others. Faith in kindness. Gratitude toward the world. If you think about it like that, then even Shiren’s overly selfless behavior—despite the guilt they felt for borrowing someone else’s body—starts to make sense.

And now, even here, in this moment, Shiren still couldn’t abandon that resignation.

Because doing so meant facing something even more terrifying. To cast off resignation and reach for the hope of “maybe I can live” also meant exposing yourself to the fear of “maybe I’ll still die anyway.”

And that fear—after quietly dying for so long—might even be a kind of trauma for Shiren.

"………………"

Reicia couldn’t even begin to imagine that feeling.

She had once tried to throw her life away—then been saved, and started over. Someone like her could never truly understand.

"...B-But still! These past two months were honestly... really fun. I mean, it might be weird to say that to the person whose body I’ve been borrowing... Yeah, sorry. It’s just, for the first time in ages, I felt alive. Those days really meant something to me... Thank you. Really. …I’ve been wanting to say that for a while, and now that it’s the end, I’m stumbling all over it and it’s turning into a mess, but..."

"……"

Shiren’s words—carefully chosen, likely out of consideration—didn’t even reach Reicia’s ears.

Of course she couldn’t understand. She wasn’t like Shiren. She was just a girl who had struggled desperately to protect her own world. Only recently had she finally stepped outside of it and seen how beautiful the world could be.

So no, Reicia couldn’t understand at all.

"I'm about to say something incredibly selfish."

Because Reicia was not like Shiren.

She couldn’t weigh someone else’s feelings against her own desires and find a compromise. That wasn’t something she could do.

So instead, she chose to push forward. Selfishly. Boldly. Without regard for Shiren’s circumstances.

"—Throw away that resignation!"

Chapter 3: I Won’t Let You Run Away with the Win — (N)ever_Give_Up.
Episode 34: Our Scenery — Our_World.

"...Huh?"

Shiren went blank for a moment at Reicia’s words.

They thought they’d explained everything. Bared their weakness, their pain, and laid it out in a way Reicia could understand—so she could accept it.

They’d known they were being overly sentimental. Knew they might even upset her. But to leave it unsaid felt even worse. So they gathered their courage and spoke.

And yet, what they got in return was the exact opposite.

She was telling them—flat-out—to throw away their resignation.

As Shiren reeled from the shock, Reicia didn’t miss a beat.

"You keep spiraling because you overthink everything! Just stop thinking and act! You can reflect afterward! You don’t need a summary until it’s all over!"

"Wait, that’s way too reckless… and that’s not even the issue—"

"That is the issue!!"

Shiren tried to protest, but Reicia cut them off firmly.

"—Because you do want to live. You never once said you hated being with me, did you?"

If Shiren had truly wanted to die—if living itself had become nothing but suffering, and dying meant release—then Reicia wouldn’t have said anything.

But from the very beginning, Shiren had never fully given up on the desire to live.

They were still clinging to so many regrets. Sure, they claimed they had none, said they weren’t leaving anything behind—but in truth, they were overflowing with regrets, and there were so many things they still wished they could do. Deep down, when they heard Reicia had come to save them, they must have been so happy they could’ve jumped for joy.

But admitting that would’ve meant getting attached. And that would’ve made dying terrifying again. …So they shut that part of themselves off. And when Reicia tried to open that door, they lashed out in anger.

It was a rare moment of dishonesty and weakness—but Reicia had no intention of blaming them. Who could? Everyone fears death. To deny the method Shiren had created to cope with that fear would be like stripping them of their only lifeline.

But as long as they held onto that resignation, Reicia’s hope for “coming back together” would never come true. And that... she couldn’t accept.

"That, is—"

"Then that’s all the more reason to go on, isn’t it?! So rest easy! You have me by your side! Are you afraid of dying? Then I’ll hold your hand forever if I have to! Even if the Grim Reaper comes, or King Enma himself, I’ll drive them all away! So—!"

Reicia grabbed both of Shiren’s hands.

She leaned in so close their faces nearly touched—clinging to them as if pleading.

"So please… come with me! I don’t have the right words to make you believe! I can’t take away your fear! But still, I—I want to live with you! I want to walk the same future with you!!"

Tears welled in her eyes as she said it.

Her words weren’t an argument. Reicia had no logic, no well-reasoned speech that could convince Shiren. She was just a fourteen-year-old girl, with barely any experience in the world. Of course she couldn’t offer the perfect answer.

All she could do was tell them how she felt. About the future she dreamed of. That beyond this fear, a light brighter than despair was waiting.

"…Seriously."

A quiet murmur.

The voice of a young soul.

"These past two months... I’ve been thinking how often my own words end up coming back to hit me."

Shiren scratched their cheek, smiling wryly.

"I never thought the very thing I did for you would come back to me like this, Reicia."

To speak of the future’s brilliance.

To show that even in a world full of despair, there is light beyond it.

To share that vision.

That was exactly what Shiren had done for Reicia once.

Back then, they couldn’t deny the despair Reicia felt—because that despair was real. It was her truth.

But they could tell her that despair wasn’t everything. That even if there was pain, even if there were setbacks, the world still held so much more. Friends who support you. Mentors who guide you. Comrades who color the future with their presence.

And now—this was the same.

It’s true. There’s no guarantee they’d make it back alive.

Dying is terrifying, and no one could truly erase that fear.

But… at the very least, they weren’t alone.

At Shiren’s side was someone who, with simple honesty and unwavering strength, held their hand.

And around them were others—friends, mentors, comrades—ready to support that journey.

"…Yeah. You’re right. It’s exactly what I’ve been telling you all along. So—will you show me, Reicia? The world you see? Let me see the possibilities of that future, too."

"What are you talking about?"

Reicia let go of their hands with a flourish and looked at Shiren through a mix of laughter and tears.

"From now on—it’s going to be your world too!"

And with that, she threw her arms around the girl who looked just like her—and held them tight.

“—Stimulation confirmed. …Hmm, looks like we’ve successfully established a ‘contact point.’”

Semi muttered this while peering at the instruments.

The monitor displayed an array of complex graphs, filled with intricate and bizarre-looking lines—but to Semi’s trained eyes, this was apparently a promising sign.

“Is everything really going to be okay…? Reicia, Shiren-san…”

“Yumetsuki-san, panicking won’t help, you know!”

“Besides, we’re talking about those two. One way or another, they’ll bounce back like it’s nothing.”

“Even so, just waiting around like this is hard… We’ve already run the personality stimulation makeup program.”

“You know, Touma always makes me go through this kind of anxiety! I kind of want him to reflect a little!”

“………………”

“Stiyl, now’s not the time to sulk. I get it. I do get it, but still.”

The operation had already moved into the third phase—the activation of the Personality Stimulation Makeup Program—and was now entering the fourth.

That said, everything past the fourth phase was more or less an automatic process. Once stimulation was complete, the subject’s Personal Reality would be externally stabilized until it exceeded the high-speed stability line, and once that was done, they’d move on to the fifth phase: using the safety function to gently awaken the subject’s consciousness. And that would be it.

Of course, getting past that high-speed stability line was the hard part, but so far, the activation rate was showing a stable upward trend. If things continued like this, it would likely enter the stable range within thirty more minutes.

“…Hm?”

Because of all that, the mood in the room had completely relaxed.

Everything that needed doing was already done. All that remained was cleanup, so it was only natural that tension had faded.

Which is exactly why—the only one who noticed the anomaly was Heaven Canceller.

A tiny, momentary fluctuation in the graph.

Contemplating what it might mean, Heaven Canceller gave his judgment:

“Well, if it’s those kids, I suppose they’ll be fine.”