It’s a spring day toward the end of cherry blossom season. Mr. Karamori and I just completed a mission to destroy a vanit.
We’re standing in a small clearing slightly removed from a path leading up into a deserted mountain. Both of us are panting heavily. There is good reason for our fatigue—this mission forced us to run all over the place.
Our target was a vanit named Cherascal. It was a cherry tree that rushed about wildly, throwing its trunk and branches around as it did so. There was nothing else noteworthy about it, although its tendency to flee with incredible speed when at a disadvantage kept us at arm’s length for some time.
But we’re finally done. I collected its concept using my Compilation ability.
It is now nothing more than a strangely shaped tree standing at the edge of this small clearing.
“Haah… Haah… Good work, Archive,” Mr. Karamori says as a blizzard of cherry blossom petals fall around us.
It has been about three months since we were paired together, but I don’t feel any closer to understanding him. I am especially confused about why he insists on trying to treat me like a person, even though I am nothing of the sort.
“Man, that thing had some serious legs… I didn’t know you were in such good shape,” he says to me.
“Indeed. I do not mind running,” I reply.
I realize the strangeness of my words after they leave my mouth. I “don’t mind” running? Why would I say such a thing? I was created to do nothing more than obey my fate. I shouldn’t have likes and dislikes.
Mr. Karamori’s eyes go wide. He stares into my own eyes, as if searching for someone within them.
Oh… I see. That was…a remnant of her mind. He’s trying to find fragments of her within me. Seeing those fragments gives him hope. How utterly pointless. The chances of getting her back are beyond minuscule.
That thought touches her heart, which lies inside me.
What a pain. Without her presence, I wouldn’t have to think these unnecessary thoughts. It’s her fault I feel discomfort every time my fate takes control. These feelings are an impediment to the fate that was assigned to me.
Without thinking, I twist my thread and hold it toward the motionless tree.
“I may have removed the distortion, but it is still unnatural for a cherry tree to be here. Let’s dispose of it,” I say, intending to slice the tree apart and destroy it without a trace.
However…
“It’s so beautiful, though…,” Mr. Karamori remarks, staring up at the cherry tree, which is still in full bloom.
I…put my hands down.
The reason why I do that eludes me. I just…have a feeling.
A feeling that I can’t destroy this tree.
Such feelings may cause me distress…but something tells me sparing the tree is the right thing to do.