"Nakajima Sensei, do you know someone named Nakajima Reina?" Minami Yuuki typed into LINE and sent the message.
While waiting for a reply, he couldn't help but think again about Ibuki Yuko and Asano Nao.
Two seemingly unconnected people displayed similar strange behaviors today.
It was almost as if they had both undergone some kind of life-altering healing.
From their unusual behavior, Yuuki's thoughts drifted to the anomalies with the simulator. The mysterious reward for a 90-point simulation always seemed to broadcast twice in a row.
Could there be a connection? Both of them seemed like they had experienced a life-changing healing, and the mysterious reward supposedly delivers a dreamscape film that conveys feelings and emotions...
Could it be...
Sitting on the edge of his bed, with the breeze blowing through the window, Yuuki shivered slightly as his body cooled. His heart pounded, and a tingly sensation spread across his tongue.
What if the mysterious reward indeed consisted of two parts, one for him and the other for Asano Nao and Ibuki Yuko?
This would perfectly explain their changes!
He covered his forehead, pondering how he would face Yuko and Nao if this were true.
Would he need to take responsibility? But how could he be responsible for both of them, one after the other?
Wait a minute.
He suddenly hit upon a key point.
The dreamscape film happened in a dream, and what happens in dreams shouldn't be something he needs to take responsibility for.
He felt a weight lift off his shoulders.
Yes, even the strictest laws and the oldest moral codes don't hold people accountable for their dreams.
Dreams are illusions, the opposite of reality, and they don't affect the real world.
If there was an issue, it would be with Nao and Yuko for taking their dreams seriously... right?
Tomorrow, he would observe them more closely. He couldn't yet be sure that they had received the dreamscape films. He shouldn't jump to conclusions.
And if it was just the dreamscape films, they would likely believe it was a gift from the heavens and wouldn't suspect him. He could pretend to know nothing.
After multiple layers of self-reassurance, Yuuki's heart finally calmed. Though he still felt a pang of guilt.
Perhaps it was the influence of his youthful body; despite having dated many girls in his previous life, he was now troubled by such matters.
He couldn't help but wonder, if only one of them could find happiness in the dreamscape, would the other person be sad, resentful, or even hate the dream?
He turned his head, looking towards the Asano household, then up to the 11th floor where the Ibuki family lived, finally resting his gaze on the waning moon outside the window.
Calculating the simulation times, Yuuki realized that by the time he approached Yuko a few days ago, Asano Nao had already received the dreamscape film.
This meant that during his simulated life with Yuko, Nao had been holding onto the memories of the dream, watching him find happiness with Yuko.
What was Nao thinking then? Was she sad? Was she resentful? Yuuki believed she wouldn't be. On the contrary, she would be grateful.
Lying in her dark bedroom, Nao couldn't help but let her thoughts spiral to the worst-case scenario concerning what she cared about most.
If the future changed beyond her control, like in the movie The Butterfly Effect, and she could no longer hold Yuuki's hand and walk towards the happiness of the dream, what would she do?
If she, who had experienced the gentle, clear moonlight, ultimately couldn't attain the full moon embodying that happiness, would she resent the beautiful memory of the full moon in her heart?
Would she think that if she couldn't have it in the end, it would be better never to have experienced that happiness in the first place?
She wouldn't. Even though she would be deeply saddened, she would never resent the dream scenes. If given a choice, she would resolutely demand this dream from fate.
Because this dream was also her treasure, her healing, the remedy for her loneliness and depression, and the most important thing for her now and in the future when she had nothing else.
The disappearance of the moon itself isn't terrifying. What's terrifying is not being able to recall any memories of the moon during a moonless night. Nao couldn't help but pull open the curtains and gaze at the hazy sky where the crescent moon hung.
On her balcony, Ibuki Yuko also looked up at the dim crescent moon.
Honoka was asleep in bed. Before falling asleep, her cold demeanor towards Yuko made the girl feel sorrowful.
The faith she had gained from the happiness of the dream wavered due to Honoka's attitude. She began to contemplate the possibility of losing Minami Yuuki.
If that time came, how would she console herself? Would she shut herself off again like she did after losing her parents' love, turning back into the doll Yuuki once referred to her as? Or would she have a more extreme reaction and completely succumb to death?
No, she wouldn't do that. Because she still had the dream of happiness, a dream that made her cheeks flush and mouth dry every time she thought of it. That dream strongly connected her to reality and life.
Without that dream, standing on the balcony, she wouldn't be contemplating the beauty of the crescent moon but rather the low railings, the lure of the wind, the dizziness from the height, and the call of death.
If she couldn't attain that happiness, she would quietly stay by Yuuki's side, watching him silently.
On a side note, her father divorced her mother due to an affair. Would Yuuki have an affair too?
If she were the one marrying him, she'd hope he'd stay faithful. But if it wasn't her under the wedding veil, she'd hope he'd be a little less restrained.
Returning to her bedroom, Yuko lay down on her narrow bed. It wasn't comfortable, but she flipped through her memories of Yuuki, smiling as she drifted into sleep.
...
Nakajima Yohei, standing on the hospital's smoking area balcony, also gazed up at the moon, conflicted. He took a drag from the half-smoked cigarette in his left hand, frowning at his phone in his right hand.
On the screen was the chat.
"Minami Yuuki: Nakajima Sensei, do you know someone named Nakajima Reina?"
How did he know my daughter's name! I haven't told anyone! If it were someone else, maybe I could understand, but why does it have to be this guy who looks like he's great at charming innocent girls! What do you want with my cute, well-behaved daughter!
He finished his cigarette, stubbed it out harshly in the ashtray, and typed a reply.
"Nakajima Yohei: Yes, that's my mother's name."
By admitting it, Yohei feared his daughter might fall into danger. But by denying it, he worried Yuuki would find out through other means. So, he chose to give false information.
Yohei smiled.