Solo Radius

The stack of handouts being passed from the front stopped at Ishinden’s desk, one seat ahead of me.

She quickly pulled out her tennis racket and placed the handouts on top of it.

Then, gripping the handle, she stretched her arm out as far as possible . . .

Here . . . Narihira, your handouts . . .

She really didn't want to get close to me. The gap between our desks was way larger than normal.

Technically, one meter away would be safe, but since that was the bare minimum, Ishinden kept about two and a half meters of distance just to be absolutely sure.

Right from Monday morning's first-period English class, I fell into despair and felt a fair amount of resentment toward life.

But I knew better than anyone that this wasn't Ishinden's fault.

This was the only way.

But this distance was too far for the printouts to reach me. I got up from my seat and moved closer to grab the handouts. Thanks to both our efforts, we finally managed to make it work.

Once I took the handouts, I immediately returned to my seat.

If I lingered, it would only hurt her.

Sorry you have to do this every time, Narihira.

No, that's my line. Thanks for going to all this trouble, Ishinden.

Ishinden was a good person. She was actually really considerate.

Whenever I saw that gentle, small-animal-like expression on her baby face, even my miserable high school life felt a little more bearable. She was like a protective charm against the world.

Once, I got carried away thinking maybe we could become closer friends . . .

Ishinden, your name has a nice ring to it. Kind of like 'kindred spirit,' you know?

Oh, um, yeah . . . I guess . . . Haha . . .

I said something so lame that I crashed and burned spectacularly. She was such a good person for putting up with that—ah crap, I just remembered something I should have kept buried in the depths of my memory!

My other classmates were decent people too. There was no bullying directed at me. Nobody talked behind my back but within earshot of me.

Yeah, it was just that I was lonely.

My esper ability went by the name Drain. Well, that was what I called it, anyway.

I didn't name it that to sound cool or anything. I mean, I couldn't go around saying "a constantly active esper ability that drains the stamina of any human within a one-meter radius and uses it to strengthen my own body" every single time, right?

This Drain ability looked pretty mundane—and honestly, it was—but it was legitimately powerful in close combat.

Just getting close would weaken my opponent. I gained that same energy, but since daily life wasn't a life-or-death situation, I couldn't tell if there was any change happening.

If I focused on absorbing, it happened faster, and I could temporarily expand my range—or shrink it down if I wanted. Physical contact made it even stronger.

So it was a powerful esper ability, but—that was all it was.

As for whether it would ever be useful in life, it had been completely useless so far and would probably stay that way forever.

Sure, if it came to a fight, it would be a strong skill (probably).

I’d been told a few times that I would probably unleash some "cheat-tier" abilities.

But seriously, was there any combat in daily life?

There wasn't.

In everyday peaceful life—which was most of life—this esper ability was nothing but shackles.

Because of this, I didn't have any friends. It was just one meter, but that one meter was everything. People who got scared usually wanted to stay twice as far back. I didn't want to frighten them by getting too close either, so I kept about three meters of distance myself.

The back corner by the window.

That was my assigned seat, and no other desks were placed within a one-meter radius of it.

There was a line of red vinyl tape marking the one-meter boundary.

It felt like flagrant bullying, but it was my suggestion. Having clear guidelines helped everyone in class feel more secure. The school approved it too.

Sigh . . . wasn't there an esper somewhere whose stamina recovered the closer they got to other people . . . ?

Even at this school, there probably wasn't anyone like that. My esper ability was pretty rare—or rather, I was the only one I'd ever heard of with it. It was even possible God created it solely to make me suffer.

This place was one of the high schools in Tokyo with an Esper Program. Seibu High School in Hachioji. That was to say, it didn't have any general education courses. It only had the Esper Program and the students were all espers.

Hachioji may be far from central Tokyo, but with over 500,000 people, it was big enough to have a high school just for espers, who made up about five percent of Japan's population.

The admission requirement was being an esper. Or rather, espers were supposed to attend schools with Esper Programs. There was no choice in the matter.

The school was often called Seiko, for short. Not Nishiko—Seiko was the correct reading.

Students were assigned something called a contribution level based on how useful their esper abilities were to society. It was a five-tier system, with 5 being the highest and 1 being the lowest—or at least, that was what I thought until I got to high school. We were not really discriminated against based on these numbers, but they said having a higher score gave you an advantage when job hunting.

But my first-year report card said this:

Contribution Level: 0.

Turns out it was actually a six-tier system. What the hell? So my contribution was actually "null"?

Apparently, esper abilities that were 'purely dangerous' got rated as 0—even lower than meaningless abilities at 1.

If I'd had friends, I could've turned it into a running joke and had a good laugh about it. It would've been solid material.

But you couldn't miss what you never had, right? Yeah . . .

Narihira, here's the second handout . . .

Once again, Ishinden from the seat in front of me placed the handout on her tennis racket and stretched her arm out.

She probably never imagined that being on the tennis team would come in handy like this.

By the way, the reason the girls called me by my first name wasn't a sign of affection—it was because my last name was Hagure, or "Outcast". Everyone instinctively felt that calling the loner sitting in the corner of the classroom 'Outcast Boy' would be way too cruel. They were good people. They didn't want it to feel like bullying.

Thanks.

I said that as I took the handout.

"Thanks." Such a lonely word.

I heard somewhere that people who could properly say "thank you" were admirable, but no matter how many times you said it, it didn't get you friends. I didn't want to be praised—I wanted friends!

Of course, I'd thought of countermeasures.

I wasn't like those losers who just claimed they tried their best, while actually doing nothing.

I paid attention to my appearance more than other guys.

Too much of a delinquent vibe scared some people off, so I kept things at just the right level of cool—I was approachable enough that even shy people could come talk to me. If I was being generous, I might just barely qualify as good-looking.

I picked up bits of whatever was trending, regardless of genre, so I could join conversations. I didn't neglect my studies either, maintaining solid B's.

When there weren't enough people for cleaning duty, I actively helped out.

Like when we had tennis in PE, I was the one putting away the equipment.

None of it had any effect.

When I thought about it rationally, it was obvious—nobody thought "this guy's a good person, so let's be friends with him, even though his ability is bad news."

The reality of being physically isolated didn't change, and you couldn't make friends when you were physically isolated. Much less get a girlfriend.

How could you eat together or watch movies while maintaining over a meter of distance? Even a relationship expert would find that impossible. If someone sat next to me at the movies, they'd be carried out on a stretcher before the credits rolled. If we got in line, the person behind me would say, "Hey, why are you two standing so far apart?"

This power manifested when I was in fifth grade, so I barely scraped by in elementary school with the friendships I'd already built up. My friends often came within fifty centimeters of me, but they tried their best to not look uncomfortable.

My middle school life was gray because of my esper ability. Actually, it was colorless. I wasn't ignored—I was genuinely seen as dangerous. The distance that had been about a meter and a half extended to two meters.

I had now entered my second year at this esper-focused high school, but my life was still gray. Actually, it was colorless. I thought maybe I'd be understood at an esper high school, but there was no sympathy or empathy for me. A power that weakens people was just creepy.

Give me some color! I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs.

This was ridiculous! An esper ability that weakens other people had absolutely zero benefits for a high schooler! I also wanted to shout that.

It was wrong that an innocent guy like me ended up as the ultimate loser! My other specs were pretty decent. With these specs, I might've even had a girlfriend by now! Was another thing I wished to shout.

I couldn't say any of it out loud.

People would think, "Ah, that guy is behaving abnormally."

I'd be demoted from "decent guy who just had bad luck" to a genuine creep.

What the hell did I do wrong in my past life?! Tell me! As soon as I figured it out, I would find an esper who could interfere with past lives and have them kill my past self! If I changed the fate of whoever I was in my past life, wouldn't that change my future life's fate too? Wait, maybe I'd disappear and become a completely different person, which could be bad . . . Though I think I wouldn't cause a time paradox, at least . . .

Narihira, do you know the meaning of this English word?

Mr. Goido had called on me. Oh crap. I'd gotten so wrapped up in my indignation that I'd forgotten I was in the middle of class. But at least it was a question I knew the answer to.

Uh, "isolation", right? It means to be singled out and left alone.

I gave a straightforward answer, with no special feelings.

But the teacher's expression changed.

Ah, sorry . . . I didn't intentionally choose you to answer that word, okay? It was a coincidence . . . Oh, but that doesn't mean I think you're always alone or anything.

Ahhh! Once he tried to explain it wasn't targeted, he also had to explain that he acknowledged I was always isolated—this spiral was so damn annoying!

This whole awkward dance where he was trying not to hurt my feelings just made it worse . . . If this were some social issue, bringing attention to it might help, but highlighting a loner's situation wouldn't make anyone suddenly want to be friends with him.

Damn it, should I just become a delinquent?! I was already sitting in delinquent territory in the classroom anyway. No good. That would totally screw up my chances for the AO entrance exam and college admissions! Plus I was starting to think I wouldn't even be able to make delinquent friends!

Should I just make it a joke and laugh about being a loner myself?! No, if that bombed, it would be a complete disaster. If my classmates were genuinely feeling sorry for me, they might not even laugh.

Oh, it's okay, sir. I don't mind.

I said, dying inside.

Actually, someone, just kill me already. I'm standing alone on a beach made of despair. No matter how much I scooped with my hands, all I could grab was despair. Beneath my feet lay thousands, tens of thousands of despairs.

I spent the whole day wallowing in sadness while praying for my misfortune to improve.

By the time I finished praying, the school day had ended.

The strongest esper ability—one that could change this world through prayer—didn't exist.

★

Since continuous prayer didn't work, I was taking action again.

I was a fighter. I'd become a demon if it meant making friends.

Even after classes ended, the afternoon had only just begun. Today wasn't over yet!

High school only lasts three years (barring things like repeating a grade). And I was already in my second year, so a third of it was over. If I took it easy, half of it would be gone soon.

I didn't want to finish all three years without making a single friend.

If I were someone devoted to some game or sport, I could use the excuse that I was focused on that, but I didn't have such hobbies. Getting too close to opponents in sports was basically considered cheating due to my esper ability, so I couldn't participate.

I'll help with cleaning, too.

As always, even though I wasn't on cleaning duty, I joined in and grabbed a broom.

I wanted them to think, even just a little, that I was a decent person.

If there was even a millimeter of possibility, I'd act on it. Maybe it could spark a conversation.

For example, this kind of scenario:

"Man, Narihira, you're really something." "Well, I'm in the go-home club, so I've got time to kill. I'm gonna skip club today too. Wanna walk home together, Narihira?" "Yeah, sounds good. Maybe we'll grab some ice cream at the convenience store." "You're getting pretty close to me, aren't you scared?" "Hey, I'm still within one meter. It's fine, it's fine."

Yes, yes! This kind of casual friendship between ordinary high school guys was exactly what I wanted! There was such simple charm in this unpretentious relationship! I could talk about social games, music, martial arts—anything! I could match whatever hobbies you have! Dirty jokes, perverted topics—if that was what you want, I'd deliver!

Today's cleaning crew was entirely made up of girls.

A loner trying to make friends with the opposite sex was like a fish skipping over land life entirely and attempting to conquer space! Let me start with land life first. I wanted to get my feet on the ground.

I moved my broom while keeping a distance from the other people cleaning.

Misfortunes would always pile up. When I looked out the window, it had started raining.

Since I bike to school, rain was an obvious mood killer.

Riding a bike while holding an umbrella was technically against traffic laws, but wearing a raincoat to ride would get bulky afterward, and those umbrella-holding contraptions that middle-aged ladies used on their bikes were way too avant-garde.

What I did was pedal recklessly in light rain. You wouldn't catch a cold from a little rain, so this was the most practical approach.

Even so, since there was quite a distance between home and school, I ended up getting wet by the time I arrived.

Anyone who smugly suggested I should commute by train could go commute to hell. If I got on a train or bus, I'd weaken everyone around me. Even when I absolutely had to ride, I got off frequently or moved around the car, thinking about how to reduce the damage.

Outside the window, I could see someone flying home through the rain with an umbrella. There were occasionally people who could do things like fly. It was an ability that was useful to couriers in the Edo period, when they literally flew around.

Even today, it saved on transportation costs. They probably had a contribution level of around 4. At the very least, they'd save companies money on business trip expenses after getting hired, making them valuable personnel.

By high school, there aren't really people who lord over others or show off based on contribution level differences, but it had a huge impact when job hunting. Rumor had it that it also made college admissions easier through recommendations.

So as a second-year who was starting to think vaguely about entrance exams, I couldn't help but consider other people's contribution levels. I was pretty sure you could raise your level by achieving results with your esper ability.

Come to me, my enemies.

Come to me, enemies that I could eventually defeat after sustaining moderate injuries.

I thought wishful thoughts while moving my broom.

If long battles came along that would make me completely forget about needing friends, I wouldn't have to suffer. If things went well, I could even be thanked and respected by those around me.

Plus, esper battles usually came with friendship and romance and stuff. There was no story where all the characters were loners acting independently.

The girls who were cleaning were talking and laughing cheerfully.

I could hear them, but the content didn't strike me as particularly amusing.

Friendship meant being able to laugh and have enjoyable conversations even about trivial topics. If I were friends with Ishinden . . .

"You know, Ishinden, your name always makes me think of kindred spirits."

That line would definitely be a hit.

"I don't want to be kindred spirits with you, Narihira." "Geez, that's harsh."

Even that kind of playful banter could have happened.

But I'm not her friend or anything. Just some other person cleaning.

A joke like that from an outsider would be creepy by default, so it wouldn't be funny either.

Sorry, we have a club meeting . . . Seeya!

Just handle the trash! Please!

The girls started making selfish demands. You were supposed to help with cleaning, so stay until the end. Didn't you have any sense of teamwork? Of course I couldn't say that, so I replied . . .

Oh, it's okay. I'll take care of it.

That's right—timid people actually followed rules well. It was the normies who lacked teamwork. So those normies should get cold sores every three days and suffer.

Thanks, Narihira!

The four girls who had been chatting excitedly just moments before casually hurried off. What do you mean "thanks"? You would forget that gratitude five seconds later. Only two of us were left—me and one other girl. Even though we were mostly finished, it still felt like I was taken advantage of.

One-on-one with a girl? I'd hate for her to think being alone with me is the worst . . . As I thought that, I checked to see who had stayed behind—and I froze.

In a way, she was someone similar to me.

Enju Takawashi—commonly known as the Ice Princess.

During her first year of high school, she consistently had the highest scores in our grade on written tests.

On top of that, she maintained an aloof attitude, refusing to talk to anyone as if talking to idiots was beneath her. Even after we became classmates in our second year, she consistently shut out external sounds with large headphones during breaks.

Yes, the fact that she had no one to talk to was the one thing we had in common.

Today as well, Enju had cold eyes that seemed to look down on everything and aristocratic long hair that truly earned her the title Ice Princess. Of course, her face was refined enough that the word princess fit perfectly. She was taller than most girls with a good figure, so she had a model-like quality too.

There was a saying that heaven does not grant two gifts, but frankly speaking, that was complete nonsense.

Usually, good things came to people who already had a lot.

Conversely, people who couldn't get anything right tended to become bitter or self-deprecating, so they tended to attract even more bad luck.

Enju was both talented and beautiful, so she already contradicted the saying that heaven does not grant two gifts. The proverb industry needed to step up their game.

However, Enju's reputation was terrible.

Yes, while Enju was talented and beautiful, she apparently had problems with her personality.

Rumor had it that she responded to anyone who tried to approach her with brutal verbal abuse, and she'd made countless girls cry.

She supposedly gave mean nicknames to all the girls.

In our first year, when a girl confronted her . . .

You say I have an ugly personality? Well then, I’ll call you Pretty Only Inside.

She supposedly shot back and sent the girl running.

Since it was all hearsay, I had to add "supposedly" to everything.

It had been a little over a month since we became second-year classmates, and during breaks she usually wore those big headphones, completely shutting out the world around her. Though she wasn't wearing them right now, obviously.

You might've thought I knew an awful lot, but that was because I sit at the very back of the classroom, so I hear all the class gossip.

Still, I didn't just blindly believe those rumors.

When someone was born with that many gifts, there were bound to be jealous people around. Maybe those girls were just spreading baseless rumors about her.

Being a loner myself, I wouldn't judge someone for living in solitude.

Ugh, that Sweet & Sour Pineapple Pork, Flaky Cicada, Walking Mole, and Off-Brand NPC . . . They should at least take cleaning seriously. People who can't even clean properly can't do anything right.

So you really give people nicknames!

I couldn't help but comment on what Enju was muttering.

I totally overstepped. Normally I'd never say something that would definitely earn me weird looks unless we were friends, but the timing was just too perfect. No, maybe it was too awful?

At that, Enju briefly turned her sharp gaze toward me, then immediately looked away.

*Yaaaawn*

She let out a languid yawn and covered it with her left hand.

Oh, so you're here too.

Her voice made it crystal clear she couldn't care less. She didn't even bother looking my way.

Enju gazed out the window where fat raindrops were falling. Holding the broom, she looked like a witch.

The rain sucks, but if I imagine Sweet & Sour Pineapple Pork and the others don't have umbrellas, it's kind of fun. If only I could make something unfortunate happen to those girls every time I pop a bubble on bubble wrap.

Look, I get that you're pissed about getting stuck with cleaning duty, but your mouth is way too foul!

Maybe I'll deliberately pull out those girls' chairs a little so it looks like someone randomly sat in them after school. Just creep them out, you know?

Right then, Enju actually did pull the chairs in that row out slightly. They made an unpleasant scraping sound.

Do people like this really exist? Instead of trying to make friends, she's built walls around herself and pushes everyone away, like she doesn't trust a soul besides herself . . .

Apparently satisfied with how she'd arranged the chairs, Enju looked pleased.

Mm-hmm.

She nodded approvingly.

Um . . . Enju, do you have a nickname for me too . . . ?

I didn't ask out of curiosity.

It was just that not knowing scared me even more.

Huh? You're Corner Rat, obviously.

Yep, that was pretty brutal!

What was worse, she didn't even turn to face me.

I guess I'm not even worth looking at.

Um . . . could you maybe sugarcoat that a little . . . ?

When I pressed her for more, Enju finally gave me an appraising glance, then immediately looked away again. Is talking with you a paid service or what?

Fine then, Mr. Losing in Prelims Builds Character?

That's worse than the first one! Give me a break!

How about Mr. DMs You, Gets Mad, Then Ghosts?

I'm not that pathetic, and I really don't even use social media!

Being able to hurt someone's dignity this much—wasn't that basically an esper ability?

Come to think of it, I'd never seen Enju's esper ability. Since she was called the Ice Princess, it was probably ice-related. Or maybe it really was just her sharp tongue . . .

E-Enju, you don't need friends at all, do you . . . ? Y-you're so strong . . .

Maybe I shouldn't have praised her for that, but there was definitely something I admired about this girl.

If I were the mob character who got killed while begging "Don't kill me, don't kill me!" then Enju would be the character who drew her sword against an unwinnable enemy and died fighting.

The way she looked down on everything was far more noble than my approach, where I was so desperate for friends that I volunteered for cleaning duty . . . Well, maybe not noble, but better. She ranked higher in the class hierarchy.

Even now, just standing there, Enju Takawashi was overwhelmingly beautiful. She looked like a painting. She was completely free from the creepiness that loners inevitably give off. Being a loner myself, I was sensitive to that kind of thing.

The fidgety feeling when you had no one to talk to, the way you watched from the sidelines like a timid herbivore when you wanted to join a conversation but couldn't quite work up the nerve—Enju had none of that.

Her attitude was clear: approach me and get cut down by my sharp tongue.

If I could develop such a decisive personality, would something change?

Yeah, impossible.

Other people would just class-change from "strangers" to "my enemies."

Enju didn't respond to my comment, just looked toward the window again. She looked like she might ride her broom and fly away at any moment. I didn't have the courage to ignore someone who talked to me. As I watched her, she glanced at me briefly and—

I'm not strong at all.

She answered me with about as much delay as a satellite transmission.

That's not true. Being able to say you're not strong is strength itself.

After saying it, I thought, Oh crap. I'd gone too deep. Now I was the guy starting abstract, cringeworthy conversations!

Now then, we need to deal with the trash those losers collected.

I was completely ignored.

I'll handle the dustpan.

Since I was closer to the supply closet, I got out the dustpan.

I needed to get out of this situation as fast as possible. This was beyond awkward. One-on-one with a girl was hard enough already. Staying silent the whole time would be weird, but this kind of bizarre conversation was just as bad. There was no way I could keep this up for ten or twenty minutes without losing my mind.

I placed the dustpan against the floor.

That's when I realized there was a problem.

If Enju took the broom, we'd end up less than a meter apart . . .

Actually, I'll just do it myself. My esper ability would cause problems.

Right—it was a pain in the ass. Having to worry about something as simple as cleaning was honestly exhausting. I wish we lived in a world where esper abilities didn't exist.

It's fine. Sweeping up some trash won't take more than a few minutes, right?

Well, that's true, but . . .

I couldn't just ask her to put up with the discomfort.

If it gets too uncomfortable, I'll tell you straight up that you're bothering me.

Then just let me do it alone!

If I have the broom and you have the dustpan, I get to look down at you. This might surprise you, but I enjoy looking down on people. In the future, I want a job where I get paid to look down on and tell people they're pathetic.

That's not surprising at all, and I'm pretty sure that job doesn't exist . . .

In the end, Enju kept the broom while I got stuck with dustpan duty.

Obviously, she was literally looking down at me.

Hey, don't look up, okay? I don't want to see your face.

Enju went out of her way to add that unnecessary jab.

Yeah, yeah, I get it. Sorry I'm not some pretty boy.

It's fine. Even if someone's good-looking, I'll find their flaws anyway.

That comment hit me like a slap from pure evil.

But then a question popped into my head.

If someone enjoys looking down on others, wouldn't they want to see their target's pained expression?

Come to think of it, Enju and I haven't made eye contact at all.

At first I figured I wasn't even worth looking at (though thinking about it now, that's way too harsh on myself—I'll definitely cry about this later), but maybe she didn't want her own face to be seen.

Self-conscious about her looks? Everyone in class knew Enju was drop-dead gorgeous. She wouldn't be called the Ice Princess otherwise.

I couldn't find an answer, but I could feel Enju's shadow moving above me.

It felt like that shadow was drifting away.

When I instinctively looked up, Enju was about to fall backward, her face twisted in pain!

Hey! Are you okay?!

I quickly caught her, managing to get my hands around her back. Good, that was close—wait, this is bad.

Enju's feeling weak because she got too close to me. If I keep holding her like this, with all this physical contact, she'll only get worse.

I need to let go right now, but if I do, she'll fall and crack her head open. That would make me absolute scum. My personality isn't scum-level. Actually, if it weren't for my esper ability, I'd be a solid upper-middle-tier guy.

Man, girls are way too soft though. Even when she's so thin you can barely tell where the curves are—focus, idiot! This isn't the time!

I'm going to lower you down now . . . Try not to hit your head . . .

Since I had to talk to her, we ended up making eye contact.

It wasn't some romantic moment where I fell in love—it was the most awkward moment of my entire life. And I was the one causing it . . .

Enju's lips twisted slightly and her cheeks flushed just a little.

Don't look.

That's what she said.

I knew this was a terrible thought to have but . . .

Her expression was absolutely captivating.

I couldn't look away.

This was completely uncharted territory for me. I'd never had someone tell me to stop looking at them and just . . . not stopped.

Maybe because this was all so new to me, something strange happened.

Something odd appeared behind Enju.

It was an LED information board, like the ones you saw on train platforms.

You know, the kind that displayed messages like "Local - Shinjuku" and stuff like that.

At first I thought maybe it had been moved here from some station, but something was off—it seemed almost ghostly, like it didn't quite belong in this world.

Text was flowing across it from right to left.

Oh no . . . I made too much eye contact because it was so sudden . . . No, maybe if I look away now it'll still be okay . . .

What the hell is this . . . ?

Was someone hiding around here with this kind of esper ability? There had to be people who could materialize objects.

But this . . . it sounded like Enju's inner thoughts . . . ?

Hey, stop looking at me . . . I don't want to see how unconfident you are. I'll be infected with your wussiness!

Enju suddenly pulled herself upright and turned away. Had she recovered? The emergency must have triggered an adrenaline rush or something.

One thing was clear—an esper ability was manifesting. But a bulletin board? That was way too specific . . .

What should I do . . . If my esper ability gets discovered, it'll be troublesome . . .

Once again, text flowed across the bulletin board.

Hey, you don't happen to have an ability that displays people's inner thoughts on bulletin boards, do you?

Huh?! What? That's ridiculous—there's no ability like that. Spare me your weird fantasies.

Did we actually make eye contact?! Once it manifests, it doesn't disappear for a while . . . If that's the case, I need to look away quickly and buy some time . . .

Suddenly, Enju turned around.

Right after the text about looking away, she turned around.

It was too perfect to be a coincidence.

It was extremely unnatural, so I circled around while holding the dustpan and tried to look into her eyes.

Immediately, Enju turned her face ninety degrees to the side.

I also moved ninety degrees to the side.

W-why are you staring at me . . . ?

It felt like stalking and made me uncomfortable, but I could piece together most of what was happening from the text.

That thing behind you—is it related to your ability?

A change appeared in the stone-faced Enju.

In short, it was like the face of someone who had accidentally deleted all the text they'd been writing.

The situation was too overwhelming to process logically.

Um . . . I'm not flustered at all, but . . . can I take a deep breath?

You don't need my permission for that.

Then let's just say . . . I was flustered because you held me in your arms.

In other words, I realized that neither of us had suddenly fallen in love or anything.

I was still focused on the electronic bulletin board.

I've been found out, haven't I . . . ? That I have the ability to broadcast my inner thoughts . . . I've been putting on a cool act and avoiding eye contact with others all this time . . .

I'm going to ask you a question, so answer yes or no. That electronic bulletin board behind you—that's your ability, isn't it, Enju?

Don't be ridiculous. Of course it's not.

That's right . . . In elementary school, I gave it the stupid name Heart to Heart.

It's stupid, but I don't blame you. Grade-schoolers are like that.

I didn't say anything . . .

Apparently her strategy was to play dumb, and she was sticking with it.

Enju, that cold act you put on—you're faking it, right? That's not really who you are, is it?

You don't "put on" a personality. I am who I am.

Yeah. When we maintain eye contact for three seconds, this manifests. I was scared of having my mind read, so I created a persona that would keep people away and help me avoid eye contact, but it worked too well . . . I never thought I'd end up without any friends . . .

All the mysteries were solved. Well, more like her inner voice just told me everything.

Enju's face had gone pale. Did she think I had her all figured out?

Ah . . . she's too close to me. My years of experience told me it was about one meter and thirty centimeters, but I should play it safe . . . Even without considering our emotional issues right now, I still felt bad about making her physically exhausted.

I took three large steps backward. I wish this ability gave me more awareness of when I was draining someone. I couldn't sense it unless there was physical contact.

Enju Takawashi, I've figured out your ability.

She'd been trashing me left and right, so dropping the distant awkwardness now should be fine. Someone who didn't show respect didn't deserve respect.

Playing detective now? Go lock yourself in a room and suffocate.

It's over . . . At worst, I'll just be demoted to pathetic loner . . .

She still wasn't being honest with what she said, but I could understand exactly what she was thinking.

Don't worry. I won't tell anyone about this.

R-really?!

At that moment, the electronic bulletin board displayed a message.

R-really?!

The text appeared on the screen.

Apparently when she was caught off guard, her words slipped out before she could control them.

You're not going to demand I do something weird in exchange for keeping quiet, are you . . . ? You'll take advantage of my vulnerable moment, like before . . .

The electronic bulletin board displayed some kind of perverted manga scenario, so I looked away!

No! I have no ulterior motives! I'm completely harmless—I'd even beat up any villain who showed up!

Do you think someone who keeps insisting they're normal is actually normal? They're definitely weirdos. I can't trust you.

I get what you're saying, but then there's no way for me to defend myself!

I wish I had an ability that didn't require me to say things like "I'm harmless" or "I'm not dangerous." I was clearly worse off than regular people, who had no weird abilities.

The reason why I can't trust you is incredibly simple. You should understand it too.

If I understood, I wouldn't be struggling. Besides, people aren't something you can understand that easily.

Enju lightly scratched her cheek with her right hand. Her hand stopped there, so it looked like she was pointing at herself.

That was a valid point. Except in her case.

It would certainly be convenient to understand people directly like that. But would it actually be convenient . . . ? Maybe it was one of those situations where even having advantages came with its own problems.

You want friends, don't you? You're putting on this act because you don't have confidence in making friends with your ability. In other words, your aloof persona is . . . escapism.

With Enju staying silent, I'd consider that a correct assessment.

I want friends for the same reason. No one's going to be friends with someone they have to keep physical distance from.

It's the twenty-first century, why not make friends through social media? Or pen pals.

This girl really set aside her own problems when giving advice . . .

So say you make friends with some random stranger online—do you seriously think that could replace having actual friends? You can't walk home from school together or complain about teachers—you can't do any of that stuff!

You're right. Even LINE is just an extension of real-world relationships.

You couldn't be enemies in real life but best friends online.

By the way, I tried Twitter but only managed to get six followers, so I quit. Two of them were spam accounts. Even when there were people from school on there, I couldn't follow them because I'd look like a creep . . .

Enju and I were dealing with the same kinds of struggles.

Because of our abilities, we couldn't make real friends.

I see. So you also have tons of experience being friendless.

She really had no sense of tact . . . Or wait, maybe she knew exactly what she was doing and just didn't care. That was even worse.

For a moment, I thought I saw Enju's expression soften just slightly.

But she immediately looked down, so I couldn't read her expression anymore, and eventually the electronic bulletin board disappeared too. Apparently it would fade away if we didn't maintain eye contact for a certain period.

Hey, Corner Rat, Corner Rat, Ratboy.

Seriously, stop trying to make it stick by repeating it. And don't give people nicknames!