Be it now or in the future, no matter what manner of insane circumstances were foisted upon them, one thing would likely never change: the CRC would always have something to yell about.
However, the situation at hand proved dire enough that they knew they needed to settle down and have an actual serious discussion about it.
“Alright, let’s go over everything we know. It all started three days ago... or more accurately, the night before yesterday. Yui and Aoki were fast asleep when they suddenly switched bodies in the middle of the night.” As the resident record-keeper, Inaba began to scrawl notes on the chalkboard as she spoke. “Next, Iori and Taichi switched yesterday after school, after we’d just met up in the clubroom. Then, this morning, while we were all on our way to school, there was a three-way shuffle: I got swapped into [Yui’s body], Yui ended up in [Aoki’s], and Aoki ended up in [mine]. Then, finally, there was a brief moment at lunchtime where Yui and Taichi switched.”
“When you lay it all out like that, it’s kinda crazy... If we keep getting shuffled around like this, I think I’m gonna lose track,” Nagase muttered, her brows furrowed.
“Next, let’s go over what we know about the phenomenon itself. Disclaimer: this is all subject to change as we learn more. So, first: it happens without warning. As of yet, we haven’t figured out what, if anything, triggers it, so we have no way of knowing when it will strike. Second: it appears to have no set time period. Today’s incident at lunch holds the record for shortest swap at just over three minutes, and the swap this morning has been the longest we’ve seen at 90 minutes. Between all four instances, this brings us to an average duration of 40 minutes. Third: it takes place specifically between the members of the CRC... Okay, I’m honestly not too sure about this one. It’s a bit too oddly specific for this phenomenon to affect just the five of us, so we should assume there’s a chance it’ll spread. Lastly, as of today, we’ve discovered that the body-swap itself can take place between more than just two people. Am I missing anything?”
“Oh, um... Well, there’s something that’s been bothering me...” Kiriyama answered hesitantly.
“There’s no concrete basis for any of this, so feel free to say whatever’s on your mind,” Inaba responded, though judging from her tone, it was hard to say whether she was trying to encourage Kiriyama or not.
“So, um... I might be totally overthinking this because I’ve been involved in most of the swaps, but when it happened to Iori and Taichi, [Taichi’s body] fell forward like he was totally passed out, remember? But this morning, when it was the three of us—when I found myself in [Aoki’s body], [he] was just sitting on the ground, not completely collapsed like that... And...” Kiriyama trailed off and looked over at Taichi.
Sensing where she was heading with this, he picked up where she left off. “Good point. When I switched with Nagase, [her body] was collapsed on top of a desk, but when it happened with you, [your body] stayed perfectly upright in your chair. And with chopsticks in [your] hand, too... although I did drop your asparagus.”
“Right? And when I was [you], I felt [your] knees buckle a bit, but other than that [you] didn’t even stumble...”
“Does this mean we’re getting the hang of it, or something?” Nagase pondered.
“That’s a valid observation. Nice going, Yui.” Inaba paused. “But if we’re building up a tolerance to the body-swap... is that necessarily a good thing?”
The implication of her words loomed heavily over the CRC. How long would this continue? And supposing it would last a while... where was the light at the end of the tunnel?
“Alright. If there are no further comments, let’s start discussing what we can do to combat this situation.” For a moment, Inaba had looked just as conflicted as the rest of them, but she quickly recovered her momentum. Her motto: maintain total control of the situation at all times. And it was to that end that she dedicated her time to information gathering and analysis.
“The first thing we need to figure out is how this started. Crazy shit like this doesn’t just happen every day. There has to be a reason behind it... At least, I really hope there is... So, any ideas? I, for one, certainly don’t remember signing up for this.”
“What could the cause even be? I mean, if we somehow triggered it, surely it would have been really obvious the second it happened.”
“Taichi, don’t be a dipshit. That’s exactly why I’m asking everyone to think about it.”
Okay, sheesh... You didn’t have to call me a dipshit... Taichi thought to himself.
“Hmm... Well, when ya see it happen in manga, usually it’s because two characters crashed into each other at full speed, right?”
“Aoki, you moron! I’m gonna call you Moroki for short! Anyway, of all the stupid things you could possibly... Well... Then again, this whole situation is stupid to begin with, so maybe you’re actually on the right track here...”
On second thought, maybe “dipshit” isn’t so bad.
“Goddamnit... The second you accept one implausible thing as plausible, suddenly it’s all fair game...” Inaba bit her index fingernail in frustration. “Seriously, guys, we need to think about this. There’s got to be some kind of explanation for—”
Just then, the door opened.
Outside of the five members of the CRC, Room 401 never saw any visitors. No one was ever desperate enough to climb all those stairs; the five of them would get summoned down to the ground floor instead. As far as Taichi was aware—that is to say, as of this spring, when the room was officially assigned to the Cultural Research Club—he and his clubmates were the only people to ever set foot in 401.
But now an outsider had opened the gates to their inviolate space.
Instantly, the tension in the room spiked. With everything that was happening to them, this unusual event felt far more significant—like a sign of something to come.
Their visitor peered inside the room. It was Gotou Ryuuzen, advisor to Class 1-C and supervisor for the Cultural Research Club.
“...Hellooo... Good to see you...” His voice was unusually lethargic.
“For fuck’s sake, Gotou! Warn us before you come up here! You nearly scared the shit out of me!”
Evidently even the usually unshakeable Inaba was a little unnerved by this... though in Taichi’s opinion, Gotou hadn’t really done anything to warrant a reaction like that.
“Well, that’s hardly my problem...” Gotou seemed... different, somehow. His eyes were half-lidded, as though someone—or something—had drained all the vigor from his spirit.
“What’s the matter with you? Feeling sick or something?” Inaba asked. Evidently his listlessness had given her cause for concern as well.
“No, no, [this fellow] is perfectly fine... Ridiculously healthy, as a matter of fact... I imagine it’s just my lack of enthusiasm, or spirit, or guts, or vitality, or whatever else...”
Gotou didn’t sound like himself. Nothing he said made any sense.
Then an impossible conclusion dawned on them.
“Who are you?” Nagase asked, her dour, icy gaze fixed firmly on the person who, by all accounts, should have been [Gotou Ryuuzen].
“...Thank you for understanding, Nagase-san... That’ll make this go by faster... It’s too much effort to have to explain every last little thing...”
“Wh... What kind of joke is this...?” Inaba forced the words out like she was desperate to cling to any other possibility.
“Compared to what you five are going through right now, I’d say this is rather tame...”
“Hold on a minute... What’s wrong with you, Gossan?” Kiriyama asked, utterly lost.
“Nothing’s wrong... The five of you were getting good and panicked over this body-swapping business, so I thought I’d pay you a visit, obviously... I’m not here for the fun of it, you know... Oh... Another thing... Please stop calling me ‘Gotou’ or ‘Gossan’ or whatever... That’s not my name... Although I suppose it doesn’t really matter...”
Its words pierced deep into their hearts. Instantly, they knew their normal lives were gone for good.
The Gotou-esque entity then proceeded to describe the body-swapping incidents in painstaking detail, including tidbits the five of them hadn’t shared with each other. With this, Inaba’s pet theory—that Gotou had been eavesdropping on their conversation and was just screwing with them—was proved irrefutably false.
And if the five of them could switch bodies at any given time, it wasn’t a stretch to assume it was possible for other people, too.
“...Alright. I get that you’re... different, and you’re not the same Gotou we know. So who exactly are you?”
At Inaba’s question, [Gotou] adopted a contemplative stance. “Who am I, you ask...? I’m not really sure how to answer that... I have a sort of name, I suppose... It’s «Heartseed»...”
“Heartseed? What, you’re named after some obscure plant?” Inaba retorted under her breath.