“I do wonder. What is this world if not a place where even fate can be distorted?” Archive said, twisting her string and reapplying her barrier to Untitled.
An hour later, the trio found themselves on the roof of a building. It was slightly taller than the surrounding structures, allowing them to look down and watch the lights of the town below. They were waiting to be picked up from the roof’s helipad.
“Hey, Karamori…” Fujinaka was warily watching Archive, who was standing atop a lightning rod and surveying the town thoughtfully. “Who is Archive? I can’t stop thinking about what she did earlier and how she keeps saying things are ‘determined by fate’…”
Karamori was hesitant to tell her more about their world, but he found himself answering anyway.
“She’s a human who was fully transformed into a vanit. That book she produced earlier is called ‘The Archive.’ It dictates everything she will do, and she obeys it completely. Her actions are literally predetermined.”
“Everything? Regardless of what she wants?” Fujinaka asked.
“Yeah.”
Fujinaka pictured the red book in her mind.
“Karamori, that book…”
“You’re gonna say it looks like Untitled, right? That’s not a coincidence. From our perspective, Untitled looks like The Archive. After I read the report on your incident, I demanded my boss give me that mission. I thought it might help me understand the mystery that is Archive, even if only a little.”
“Oh…”
“There must be a reason Untitled and The Archive look so similar.”
It was possible that the book came from the same source, just like how the Half-wits had all been created by the same pen.
“If the books are related, I have to find out how and prevent any more from being made… Before anyone else is hurt or killed.” The hope in Karamori’s eyes outshined the stars reflected in his pupils. His gaze shifted to Archive atop the lightning rod. “I think Archive…has given up.”
“You do?” Fujinaka asked.
“There’s no way everything is predetermined. Fate can’t rob you of the ability to resist, either. You can find freedom within the restraints you’re given. That’s what I believe.”
Fujinaka felt like those words were more for Karamori himself than anyone else. She thought they could apply to her, too. She might have made people disappear, and she might not be a person, but she could still do her best to find what freedom she could. As long as she wanted to.
“Her fate binds her more strongly than mine, but I think she can say the same thing. So long as she doesn’t give up.”
“Now that you mention it, I doubt fate determined her love of ramen,” Fujinaka said.
Karamori frowned. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s the influence of the original person, though, so I’m not exactly sure that’s actually an example of free will…”
He fell silent, staring off into the distance, and Fujinaka peered into his eyes as if trying to find answers there.
“Did you know the person she was before?” she asked.
“…Yeah.”
A frown creased Fujinaka’s brow as well. The girl Karamori had known probably didn’t look or act anything like Archive. Meaning he’d essentially lost a friend.
“Was she…important to you?”
“She was… Though I only knew her for less than a month.”
Karamori looked up at the sky. Stars glittered into view in defiance of the town’s light.
“She shined like the sun. At least, she did to me… I was deep in an abyss of despair, and she showed me a sliver of light. That light was the only reason I didn’t break. And as I got to know her, I found she had that light in inexhaustible supply.”
“You want to save her, don’t you?” Fujinaka asked.
“Yeah. I will save her. I swore it.”
Karamori looked at Archive.
“…I’ll save her, even if it means erasing Archive.”
He appeared melancholic as he watched his partner. Fujinaka figured that would be a difficult choice for him, given the relationship he’d built with Archive. She put a hand to her chest, feeling the pain she saw on his face.
Archive’s exchange with Karamori in Fujinaka’s house and her actions over the last couple of days made it clear she felt his pain—and his determination. And yet, she could only do what fate determined for her.
Feeling a sudden urge to pray, Fujinaka closed her eyes and wished for the two of them to receive at least some small salvation on their difficult path.
The whirring of a helicopter’s rotor approached, and a strong downward gust began whipping their hair.
“All right, it’s time to move on,” Karamori said. “I feel bad about this, Fujinaka, but we’ll be needing your help again.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry. We’ve got a bit of a crisis on our hands. After all, this next vanit is an Apocalypse-class…with the power to end the world.”