The next day, once all our preparations were complete, Kazune and I arrived at the deserted laboratory and headed for the shift room with the IP capsule. Naturally, the door was locked, so we went to the storage room and pulled out the box with all the keys, but…
“What the…?”
“…It’s not here.”
No matter how hard we looked, the shift room key was nowhere to be found. The last person to use the room must have put the key in their lab coat pocket and accidentally walked out with it. That was a fairly common occurrence.
“Well, now what? We can’t enact our plan,” Kazune remarked, though I sensed she was more relieved than she let on. Even as the minutes ticked down, she likely still had some lingering regrets about going through with this.
I, on the other hand, had come prepared. “Never thought I’d actually need to use this damn thing,” I muttered as I pulled a single key from my pocket.
“What’s that?”
“Spare key for the shift room.”
It was the one the director had given me at age fourteen—the one Shiori had made in secret. Back then, I wanted to believe that this key would open the door to our happy life together… The timing now felt like destiny indeed.
“Well, all right then. In we go.”
Kazune didn’t protest further. Once she agreed to something, she was the type to commit to it, 100 percent.
Inside the shift room, we prepped the equipment. We had run countless simulations and all that remained was to go for it.
At this point in my life, I’d climbed into the IP capsule hundreds of times, but at my current age it posed a bit of a challenge. Kazune did her best to help me, of course, but she was no spring chicken herself. Once I got myself settled, she closed the glass door…but then I thought of something and called out to her.
“Hey Kazune, I want to do an optional shift first, just in case.”
“What? And go where?”
“Same world I’ll be merging with. Just wanna check it first.”
“Fine by me. Same IP, right?”
“Right. Pull me back after five minutes.”
“Will do. Ready?” She set it all up with a practiced hand, then started counting down before I could prepare myself. “Five, four, three, two, one… Shift: on!”
I closed my eyes. I could feel the magnetic field humming to life inside the capsule, ever so faintly warm. And the next instant—
My whole body was suddenly racked with pain.
I opened my eyes. This was my bedroom, one I’d visited dozens of times now. In this world, I spent the majority of the day in a geriatric bed. As for the pain, it was from the cancer. Though I’d experienced it a handful of times previously, it never got any easier.
Enduring the agony, I looked at my left wrist. Sure enough, I was wearing my IP band. I pulled up the schedule app and put in a calendar entry.
August 17th, 10 a.m. Showa-dori intersection, Leotard Girl.
My meetup with Shiori.
Was this cheating? Well, I was trading my entire life for one fleeting encounter. Surely I was allowed to give myself one little hint, right?
Once I made sure the entry was saved, I wondered what my other self would think of this mystery appointment he wouldn’t remember making. Maybe he’d think he was going senile. Well, it didn’t matter to me as long as he lived long enough to go there.
Five minutes later, when I returned to my home world, I found Kazune looking pointedly down at me through the glass.
“Honey, I’m home,” I joked.
“Welcome back,” she replied, running her hand over the glass. “I had a nice little chat with your parallel self.”
Now this was a surprise. I had shifted there several times before, and Kazune had helped me with nearly every one of them, but normally she strictly avoided getting too involved with my other self. Before now, she never opened the capsule door or even spoke to him. But this time, of all times, she had made an exception? Could she no longer suppress that unquenchable curiosity of hers?
“What did you talk about?”
“Oh, we mostly just said hi… He took one look at me and called me Kazune straight away. To think he’d recognize me through all the wrinkles!”
“Hm.”
“Even in that world, I can’t seem to get rid of you, can I?” she asked.
“Er… I guess not…”
The conversation petered out, and for a while she seemed to ponder something—what sort of relationship our parallel selves had, perhaps?
Her expression shifted. “You know, I’ve been keeping this question to myself, but…I mean, at this point, you don’t mind, do you?” she asked casually, like it was a weight off her shoulders. “Tell me, Koyomi, what sort of world did you choose?”
She may have known its IP, but I hadn’t told her a single detail about what my new world was actually like. Admittedly, she never asked, but clearly she was curious. Anyone would want to know what was so great about the other world that I was willing to abandon this one. I contemplated how much to tell her.
“…In this other world, I call myself Grandpa, in the third person.”
I know, she mouthed back at me.
And “Grandpa” had spent his life loving Kazune instead. But again, I decided not to tell her that.
“I have a wife and son, and I’m pretty sure you and Shiori have happy families too. We all do.”
“…I see.” Evidently, she didn’t have any further questions.
After that, our chitchat was over, and we went back to our prep work. It was the same procedure as all the other tests, just one last time. Our setup went smoothly, and we were done in about an hour. Once she powered on the IP capsule, it was all set.
The branching point was at age seven: the parent I chose to live with after their divorce. As long as I chose my mother, I’d never meet Shiori.
In just a few moments, my imaginary elements would sink through the Sea of Einzwach and vanish from this world, taking Shiori’s ghost along with me. All that would be left behind was my brain-dead body, and the rest was up to Kazune.
“Any last words?” she asked me through the glass.
Since this was my last chance, I decided to tell her my honest feelings. “Thank you for everything. I’m truly glad I met you, and I’m sorry for the mess.”
“Oh, it’s fine. Too late now.”
That was our final conversation. I didn’t say goodbye—not out loud, at least. My life was dedicated solely to Shiori. But if I had to give thanks to one other person, it would be Kazune without a doubt. In a sense, she was a closer friend than Shiori ever was.
The IP capsule hummed to life, and the countdown to time travel began.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…”
Then, in place of the rest, Kazune looked down at me and spoke. “Farewell, Koyomi. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
She sent me off with the very words I’d chosen to leave unsaid—and in all the decades I’d known her, her voice was softer and sweeter than I’d ever heard it.
✦ ✦ ✦
As I sink into the imaginary sea, holding this piece of Shiori, I bid farewell and take the plunge into a world where I will never know her.
Thank you for everything, Kazune.
And to me—the one who loved you—I entrust one fateful meeting.
All so I might see my beloved one last time.