Classroom of the Elite, I Have a Life Simulator Chapter 25

"I've only seen him from afar. I heard my father was planning to let him..."

He waved his hand dismissively.

"Forget it, this matter has nothing to do with you."

"But I still think you should go see Ichinose Honami."

"It seems to be quite effective."

You heard Sakayanagi Arisu say this from the other end; you could even imagine her squinting her eyes and curling her lips from her tone.

"So..."

"Wait." You interrupted her, realizing you couldn't keep following the pace set by a minor who called herself a "psychiatrist." Although you had indeed recalled quite a bit, all of it was the result of her guidance. This feeling of being controlled from the shadows made you firmly stop Sakayanagi Arisu.

You swallowed hard and struggled to ask her:

"I remember you saying before that when I was receiving treatment from you three years ago, I was forcibly stopped by my girlfriend, right?"

"Yes, she had an expression like she was going to kill someone at the time. It was a performance completely inconsistent with her cute appearance."

"What did that person look like? Was her name Ichinose Honami?"

The moment your question left your lips, it felt as if the air had frozen for an instant.

"No need to overthink it. The girlfriend who was with you back then was indeed Ichinose Honami."

Upon hearing her answer, a strange sense of relief suddenly surged in your heart. It was like the complex emotion a prisoner feels the moment they realize they are still alive after being tortured—rejoicing that they survived, yet already foreseeing the subsequent fate, which remained a bottomless sorrow.

"Do you have anything else regarding her?"

You asked with a hoarse throat. You didn't know why, but when the boy named Matsuo Eiichiro mentioned the name 'Ichinose Honami' in your recent memory, a massive, unprecedented pain engulfed you, as if you were using your fingers to dig out traces of her existence from the ruins and gravel of your memory.

"I'm not sure. I haven't seen her again either."

Sakayanagi Arisu's voice became much more serious. She asked considerately, like a real doctor:

"Do you want to rest for a while? There is still a long time left in the day."

"No need." You refused cleanly and decisively.

"Since my girlfriend stopped my therapy with you three years ago, why did you say it had been two years and one hundred and twenty-eight days since our last call when I phoned you today? Although our contact was brief, I don't think you would misremember a date accurate to the day as three years."

"What did we talk about two years and one hundred and twenty-eight days ago?"

"...Even after losing your memory, Kitagawa-kun, your thinking remains just as meticulous."

Sakayanagi Arisu seemed to have changed her posture while holding the phone; you could hear the faint friction of fabric.

"Yes, I did have a call with you back then. What's the same as this time is that you were the one who called me."

"What did I say?"

Sakayanagi Arisu hesitated for a moment, but she continued:

"Only one sentence."

Her voice was as calm and intellectual as ever, so much so that what she said next seemed to be imbued with a sense of rationality out of thin air:

"What Kitagawa-kun told me that day was..."

"When you call me again, no matter how long it takes, I must tell you."

"Climb over the windowsill and jump down from there."

"Eh?" You were stunned by Sakayanagi Arisu's words. Her tone carried an unquestionable aura, and you subconsciously looked toward the windowsill.

Five or six vases were neatly arranged there. These vases, of various sizes and heights, were bathing in the sunlight. Their ceramic surfaces emitted a warm luster, and the sunlight passing through the flowers in the vases cast shimmering floral shadows on the sill. As they swayed in the breeze, these ripples of light shifted accordingly.

You put down the receiver and moved all the vases away. The window was indeed unlocked, and you pushed it open with ease. A somewhat strong wind hit your face, and you saw the street below, the cars on the road, and the people on the sidewalk. Those cars the size of matchboxes and those people the size of ants reminded you that you were currently in a high-rise building of at least seven stories.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. You counted the floors from bottom to top. Sure enough, you were on the seventh floor. Judging by the height alone, it was probably over twenty meters from the ground. The you from two years ago had left a message for you to climb over and jump from this very spot.

Jump down, and you would get the answer.

It is said that when people stand in high places, they involuntarily fantasize about jumping. But when you leaned your body out of the window, this sentence emerged from your subconscious. Once it appeared, it pierced into your mind as forcefully as a red-hot branding iron.

Tsk. You pursed your lips, placed your hands on the window frame, and stepped one foot out of the window.

Just as you slowly moved your other foot and your entire body over... or rather, jumped out of the window, you suddenly felt the tactile sensation between your hands turn soft. The tiled window frame seemed to bend into a soft ribbon, and you jumped out.

"Hey, Ryo! The police have already cordoned off this building; what you're doing is illegal!"

You climbed over the police tape used to keep ordinary citizens out, feeling a bit dazed. Matsuo Eiichiro, standing in the crowd, shouted at you anxiously. But since he couldn't easily climb over to drag you back, he could only keep waving his hands and shouting for you to return.

You walked toward the stairwell involuntarily. Sure enough, two police officers were standing there. They didn't seem to expect anyone to get in here. One of them stepped forward with a tense face to escort you out, scolding you sternly:

"Which school are you a student at? Get out of here immediately! This isn't a playground for kids!"

In the next second, you had already stepped forward, grabbed his shoulder, and slammed him hard onto the ground. Your sudden attack and strength, which was significantly greater than that of your peers, left the other party unable to react in time. You quickly pushed the other officer aside and stepped into the stairwell without hesitation.

Fourth floor, fourth floor, fourth floor, fourth floor!

You ran up the stairs. The scolding and chasing sounds of the two men came from below, but before they could arrive, you had already reached the fourth floor one step ahead.

And then, you saw...

Matsuo Eiichiro stomped his foot hard, watching his friend, who had suddenly gone mad for reasons unknown, while the whispers of the surrounding crowd reached his ears.

"If you ask me, the Ichinose family must have offended someone..."

"No kidding. Within a month, the mother of the head of the household lost her job, then the daughter was caught stealing. Even though the amount was small, the mother dragged her to apologize, but the next day, the whole thing was leaked online. The school she attended was forced to expel her. I heard she was the student council president, too."

"It's precisely because she was the student council president that they had to expel her to save face. A student council president who's a thief, tsk tsk."

"Because they had no income and planned to move out, the landlord sued them, claiming they'd destroyed the structural integrity of the house and caused property damage. Can you believe this mess?"

"A couple of days ago, the girl said she wanted to drop out to find work, but no shop in the neighborhood would hire her. A relative of mine works at a convenience store, and they heard from the manager that someone had given orders from behind the scenes to ruin their family."

These onlookers wore expressions that were neither quite smiling nor quite sorrowful, their gazes ambiguous—like an audience at a theater, filled with a mix of anticipation and greed, followed by a cold indifference that kept everyone at arm's length.

"...Excuse me, what happened to the Ichinose family?"

Matsuo Eiichiro interjected to ask.

"They couldn't go on, could they? The mother fed both her daughters sleeping pills and burned coal in the room."

One person turned to say this to him in a casual tone, the icy indifference of their voice making Matsuo Eiichiro shudder.

Chapter 28: Nightmare

You climbed the stairs and saw a white cat.

It was a massive cat that blocked the entire hallway. Its fur was snow-white, its pupils—nearly the same size as your own body—shimmered with the glow of fluorite, and it lay there quietly, as if it had been waiting for your arrival all along.

"Hotaru?" You remembered the cat's name in an instant. You had raised it. How many times had you raised it? Once, twice, three times, or perhaps even more?

Its massive head leaned in, nudging your body as it always did. If it had been a normal-sized kitten, this would undoubtedly have been an affectionate gesture, but having a cat head larger than your own pressing against you was not a pleasant experience. You felt a bit relieved that it didn't stick out its tongue to lick you.

"Why are you here?" You stroked its fur, then suddenly thought of something and patted its head:

"Let me pass. I need to get through."

It shook its head, and in your mind, you seemed to hear it speak:

"No."

You felt certain you must be dreaming; after all, cats couldn't speak in reality. You pushed at it with some irritation:

"Honami is in there. Do you know her? Let me pass."

Hotaru continued to shake its head, stubbornly blocking the way with its body, its beautiful, fluorescent eyes staring fixedly at you.

"Fine." You spread your hands:

"Since you won't let me pass, then please tell me, where should I go?"

It answered in your mind:

"That depends on where you want to go."

"I don't care where I go."

"Then it doesn't matter where you walk."

"As long as it's where Honami is."

It nodded and bit down on the back of your collar. Amidst your cry of surprise, it threw you straight down the stairs. The final sentence of its that surfaced in your mind was:

"Then anywhere will do. It's all just a nightmare in her unconscious state anyway; one place is the same as the next."

"Alright, although we've met many times, let me introduce myself again. I am Kusakabe Ayako. You don't need to be too nervous, and you don't need to worry about my status. Right now, I am just a listener, your good friend." The female psychologist, who looked to be about thirty, spoke gently to the girl sitting across from her. Even in the room, which was empty save for the two of them, the girl still seemed to lack any sense of security, hugging her knees tightly. She seemed to be clutching something in her hand, and beneath her messy bangs, only a pair of azure eyes peered out at the doctor.

Kusakabe Ayako sighed with some difficulty. This girl named Ichinose Honami had become the biggest challenge for their psychological clinic in recent days. She was already the third psychologist to consult with her. Of the two previous colleagues, one had been screamed at and chased out of the house for introducing herself as Hokuto Ryoko, and the other, famous for using aromatherapy to soothe patients, had caused the girl to fall into a day-long silence after lighting a rose-scented incense stick.

"I hope to hear you say once more the reason you came here."

She tried her best to steer the conversation gently, holding the form the girl had filled out earlier:

"It's because you saw something that frightened you, is that right?"

The girl began to tremble again, and the psychologist quickly took her hand, hoping to convey her own warmth:

"Don't be afraid. It's already in the past, and I am right here."

"Anything—only by saying it out loud, just saying it out loud is enough. Speaking it represents acceptance."

"...Haven't I accepted it? Haven't I already admitted it?"

Ichinose Honami tilted her head, then suddenly let out a few cold laughs:

"It's written right there on the paper in your hand. I said it long ago: I killed someone. I admit it! I plead guilty! Is that enough?"

By the last sentence, she was practically roaring. Ichinose Honami covered her eyes with her hands, and water flowed from between her fingers:

"Is that enough? Is it not enough?"

"But Ms. Ichinose, your psychological state is the key to determining the verdict. In fact, the victim's mother has been urging for the trial to proceed, but your mother insists that you would never do such a thing, and that you were simply in an abnormal mental state at the time..."

"And."

She looked directly into Ichinose Honami's eyes:

"In fact, since that day, you haven't been able to sleep without the aid of medication, have you?"

"Your mother and your sister are waiting for you. Think of them; they have been worrying about you all this time."

Kusakabe Ayako gently guided the conversation:

"That is why we need to understand your psychological state. For instance, what exactly happened that day? I would like you to tell me in your own words."

Her gaze seemed to flicker slightly upon hearing the words "mother" and "younger sister," and she slowly began to speak:

"I... killed... my childhood friend, Kitagawa Ryo."

A long silence followed. Kusakabe Ayako did not press further; she knew this was the greatest progress made in their therapy sessions over the past few days. She watched the layers of bloodshot veins in the eyes of Ichinose Honami, who was trembling all over, staring fixedly at her own hands. Those pale hands were empty now; time is the best bleaching agent, but in her eyes, they were still stained with bright, crimson... blood.

"No... that's not right, is it?"

Ichinose Honami let out a neurotic, cackling laugh:

"I should have killed Karuizawa Kei back then, so how could it be Ryo? Ryo already boarded a plane to go abroad. Before he left, he even wrote me a birthday card and promised that next year, he would make it back in time for my birthday so we could watch the fireworks festival together."

She held out her palm in front of Kusakabe Ayako:

"Actually, we've watched so many fireworks festivals together since we were little. Look, I'll count them for you."

"Six years old, he bought me a candied apple."

"Seven years old, he gave me a cat."

"Eight years old, I caught more goldfish than he did."

"Nine years old, he bought me a large serving of takoyaki."

"Ten years old, he told me my new yukata looked beautiful."

"Eleven years old, he bought me cotton candy."

"Twelve years old, he gave me a pitch-black umbrella."

"Oh."

She pressed down the fingers she had held up one by one, and Ichinose Honami snatched the pen from Kusakabe Ayako's hand, writing on her own left palm: