The funny thing was, I’d given a lot of thought to certain things in this regard—like how the workers and patrons at the various hotels, restaurants, and convenience stores we’d stolen from would react to or be affected by our actions once the timefreeze was over. But as for what I myself would do after this, I hadn’t given it any thought whatsoever. I had no plans, nor was there anything I was looking forward to doing again. If I had to guess, there’d probably be a bit of drama related to me bailing on the class trip without permission, but then I’d go right back to my same old boring life as always.
“…Nothing much, probably,” I said. “Haven’t really given it much thought.”
“Same,” said Akira. “I got zero plans. Dunno what the hell I’m gonna do.”
I felt oddly relieved to know that she and I were in the same boat—like I’d shown up unprepared to class on the day of a big test, only to discover that I wasn’t the only person who hadn’t studied for it. It was that sort of feeling of camaraderie.
“But I will say…I kinda don’t wanna go back to Hokkaido.”
“Ah… Yeah, I hear you.”
Given what little she’d shared about her family situation, I could understand why she felt this way. But what would she even do in that case? Where would she live, and what high school would she go to? Was she just planning to stay down south and try to find a part-time job or whatever? Maybe she didn’t realize just how much it cost to live in Tokyo. It wasn’t the sort of place where a teenager could support themselves all on their own with no safety net. Not that the same couldn’t be said about any major city.
“Man, this sucks. How come I can’t just find a hundred million yen lyin’ around on the ground somewhere, y’know?” Akira jokingly lamented, but I could hear a note of sincerity in this outlandish appeal as well.
After all, it wasn’t as if ending the timefreeze was going to solve any of Akira’s problems. If anything, it would only force her to finally confront them. And there was no guarantee that talking things out with her family would make the situation any better. Hell, it might even make it worse. No matter how things played out, the harsh reality of it was that the only things awaiting her once time started moving again were more stress and strife. In which case, maybe it really would be better if the world just—
“So hey, whaddya think’s gonna happen with all the toilets we’ve been using and whatnot?” Akira suddenly asked, cutting off my inner monologue.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve just been wondering about it for a while, y’know? Because I’m guessing you’ve also been pulling the handles once you’re done, right? So do you think that means all these toilets in all these different places are just gonna flush all at once as soon as this is over, or what?”
“Ohhh, I see what you’re saying…”
I felt a little discombobulated to be discussing toilet logic all of a sudden, but I was glad to hear that Akira’s voice had regained its usual carefree timbre. Maybe I really did need to just stop overthinking things—it wasn’t as if me stressing out about her problems was going to do anything to solve them. I relaxed my shoulders a bit.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said. “Guessing they’ll all start flushing at the exact same instant the timefreeze ends.”
“Dang, I bet that’ll scare the crap out of anyone else who was using those bathrooms. Imagine randomly hearing a flush from an empty stall when you thought you were the only one in there.”
“Ha ha, yeah, that’d definitely be pretty—”
Spooky, I was about to say, but the word caught in my throat.
Something felt weirdly off to me all of a sudden. I couldn’t say what. It was a feeling not too far off from déjà vu—almost like I’d had this same conversation before. About toilets, though? No, surely not. I was fairly certain the subject matter had nothing to do with it. Upon further reflection, I realized that it was two phrases in particular which stuck out to me: “in all these different places,” and “at the exact same instant.” For whatever reason, these specific words ate away at me like a bit of gravel in my shoe I couldn’t ignore, and they refused to be dislodged until I managed to grasp whatever latent memory I was trying to recollect.
“Speaking of scaring the crap out of people,” Akira went on as I racked my brain, “I bet those other guys in your group are gonna be pretty freaked out that you just up and vanished all of a sudden too, huh?”
“Nah, I highly doubt it,” I said. “I was walking pretty far behind them from the start, so I don’t think they’ll notice me being gone for a while. And it’s not like I was ever really there to begin with, for all they care…”
“Hey. No being so down on yourself. Nobody likes dealing with people who won’t shut up about how much everyone hates them.” Akira turned to glare at me in disapproval. But I hadn’t been fishing for sympathy—it was just the simple fact of the matter.
“Sorry, I wasn’t complaining,” I said. “It’s kind of nice being treated like you don’t even exist, honestly. You won’t cause any problems for them, and they won’t feel obligated to try to include you when you just want to be left alone either.”
Harder to get bullied when you’re invisible too, I added internally.
But immediately after I made this little unvoiced addendum, an epiphany crashed down on me like a lightning bolt, and I finally managed to grasp the true nature of that funny feeling I’d been groping at. God—how in the hell had I not realized this sooner?