True Education: I Have a Life Simulator

Kitagawa Ryo felt like he was nestled inside some warm nest, like curling up under a heated kotatsu in winter. He had always indulged in the kotatsu's peculiar comfort and languid warmth. Even peeling a mandarin felt slow and unhurried. Time spent under the kotatsu seemed to exist independently, cut out from the flow of reality.

He burrowed deeper. Right now, his mind was as quiet as an abandoned manor overtaken by nature, where no human voices echoed. Overgrown plants lived and died on their own, and the seconds of time trickled along the veins of the leaves.

A profound sense of freedom and peace enveloped him. In this vast, empty, and gentle illusion, he could think about anything—or nothing at all. And yet, lying there, the layers of memory in his heart slowly unwrapped like sheets of oiled paper. After examining each, he folded them back carefully, like a farmer flipping and drying their wheat under the sun, faintly satisfied.

Karuizawa Kei gently brushed Ryo's hair from his forehead, gazing at his peaceful, childlike sleeping face. For some reason, she leaned in closer, taking in his features one by one.

Though she already knew he was handsome, seeing him this close made her appreciate it anew.

The hospital bed was large. Even with Ryo in the center, there was plenty of space on either side. Kei slowly lay down on the far edge, leaving about twenty centimeters between them—not moving any closer.

She closed her eyes, syncing her breathing to his.

That was all.

The time was 10 PM.

Meanwhile, Ichinose Honami had just finished another argument with her mother. Exhausted, she collapsed onto her bed, her mind feeling both empty and overwhelmed. A strange sensation had risen from her chest to her throat, stuck there—neither swallowed nor spat out. Like a restless fish, she tossed and turned. With no moon outside the window, the night was pitch-black. Resigned, she pulled the blanket over her head.

Thirty minutes later, Honami realized she had insomnia. She slipped out of bed, quietly opened her door, then tiptoed out of the house.

Whenever she felt uneasy, she would go to his room—or rather, his former room.

Using the spare key, she entered the silent space. She lay sprawled on the hard, cold floor.

Staring up at the low ceiling, she curled into a ball, trying to drift into sleep.

This ritual was meaningless, really. Ever since Kitagawa Ryo moved out, the room had been empty. No furniture, no blankets, no pillows. It was no better than sleeping outdoors. Still, she often came to clean, so it wasn't dirty.

It was incomparable to her own bed. Fairy tale princesses couldn't sleep due to a single pea beneath dozens of mattresses. Who could imagine a girl lying on this cold, hard floor?

But for Honami, it was enough—because this had once been Ryo's room.

Though… if she truly craved his scent, why not just stay at the hospital? She had every reason to.

She remembered waking up here the first time—her whole body ached like it had been dismantled and reassembled.

Why did she do this?

She didn't know.

The feeling had started back then.

When she saw him and Kei holding hands in a cafe—no, fingers interlocked. A far more intimate sight.

No, it went back even further.

It began when she first learned Ryo had accepted someone else's confession. Even though she knew it was a fake relationship, that day she couldn't help but boast in front of Kei about how much she understood him. Something she never would've done before.

When his feelings were being transferred into someone else's body. When his lips met the other end of a heart-shaped straw. That was when something shifted inside her. Like her territory was being trespassed.

Since then, that feeling hadn't gone away.

Whether she was eating or sleeping, that emotion filled her chest, growing stronger each day.

But Honami still didn't know what to call it.

A nameless force pulling her every thought and action in one direction.

In that empty room, there was only the girl sleeping quietly—and a neatly stacked pile of origami cranes in the corner.

She had begun folding them after hearing Ryo was going abroad. She planned to give them to him on the day he left.

Current count: 698.

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The next morning, Ryo felt much better than the day before. He remembered the birthday wish Honami had made and suddenly thought—he wanted to be discharged before her birthday tomorrow.

"Izaki?"

Just as he was about to find the butler to discuss it, Izaki appeared in the room first, looking more serious than Ryo expected.

"What, did I catch some terminal illness? Or did you not sleep well last night, Izaki?"

He joked as usual, stretching.

"I feel fine now. Think I can leave today?"

Izaki assessed Ryo's complexion, which looked much improved. He nodded.

"If the doctor confirms it this morning, you can be discharged. You've always had good health."

"Nice."

Ryo swung his arms happily. Even he felt this illness had been the result of several coincidental factors piling up.

"Hm? Why's that umbrella here?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the black umbrella leaning against the wall. He frowned and walked over. The handle marked with "I & K" confirmed it belonged to Honami.

"She must've left it here last night."

"Really? Who forgets their umbrella on a rainy night? Wouldn't she have realized when walking in the rain?"

Ryo poked his head out the door and looked around.

"Or did she already come by this morning?"

"No. She definitely didn't take it last night. I found it at the hospital's lost and found."

Izaki's calm delivery left no room for doubt. He sighed.

"Something's off with Ichinose-san lately. Have you noticed?"

"...And what if I have? I'm leaving soon anyway. Who knows what things will be like a year from now? It might take decades to grow close to someone, but drifting apart only takes months."

Ryo shrugged, pretending not to care.

"Would you like to hear my opinion on your relationship? I've watched you both grow up."

Seeing Ryo nod, Izaki continued:

"She's afraid now. She's only just realized how much you mean to her. She's always been sensitive to the idea of losing you. But now, it's worse. Maybe your presence has grown too big. She fears losing you, which is why her recent behavior—"

"Seems a bit extreme," Ryo finished.

"You probably think she hasn't changed much. That's because you still see her as a normal girl. Shy, affectionate. But for Ichinose Honami, those are anomalies."

"What do you think of her relationship with Kei?"

"Not great? They barely interacted."

"Exactly. In the past, she would've at least been more cordial."

"She doesn't have to be nice to everyone. If she can make her own judgments, even show some aggression, I think that's growth."

"Is that why you chose Kei?"

"Maybe at first. Like when I told Honami that Maki confessed to me—a lie."

Izaki went quiet.

"So that was a test?"

"No. Not really."

Ryo ran a finger along the umbrella's intricate pattern, then looked Izaki in the eyes.

"I wanted her to really think about our relationship. To consider... herself. Weird, huh?"

He chuckled.

"Like when I gave her Hotaru. I kept insisting it was her cat. I wanted her to know she had things she could control. She could create her own memories. Think for herself. I feel like I was so close to succeeding. Just one step away."

"Then I won't say more. Just one last question."

"If one day she insists on walking home in the rain, how would you stop her?"

"The easy way would be to walk with her. Make her feel guilty. Then bring her home."

Ryo snapped open the umbrella, the large black canopy filling Izaki's view.

"But my way is to give her an umbrella big enough for two."

Izaki nodded and bowed slightly.

"I'll get your breakfast."

As he left, Izaki recalled last night when he escorted Honami from the hospital. Unlike the composed girl in front of Ryo, she had seemed like a broken doll—something inside her had snapped. He imagined that new persona might one day destroy her emotions and lead her to ruin.

But that was just his imagination.

Honami had always existed in a place beyond the reach of normal girls. Her personality was something incomprehensible—even unnatural. But on her, it never seemed out of place.

Still, those repressed feelings would one day explode. Maybe someday, for someone's sake, she would abandon everything.

That someone would likely be Kitagawa Ryo.

After the morning check-up, the doctor advised Ryo to stay one more day. Bored, he wandered the hospital courtyard, watching the grass and flowers. The rain from last night had left a distinct earthy smell—not pleasant, not awful either.

Kei arrived around 11 AM with Izaki. Not finding Ryo in the room, she spotted him watching ants in the garden.

"Feeling better, senpai?"

Ryo looked up to see Kei standing there in a sleeveless dress of white and blue—fresh and clean, a perfect summer image.

"I feel like I could leave today."

He dusted off his pants and stretched.

"Haven't seen Ichinose today."

Kei stood on tiptoe to scan the area.

"But her umbrella's still in the room."

"She forgot it last night. Probably coming to get it today."

"Oh."

Kei took out two origami cranes.

"I forgot to mention—when you fainted yesterday, the glass bottle by your bed broke. The medics didn't notice, and a lot of the cranes inside got crushed. These two were the best I could salvage."

"Really?"

Ryo vaguely remembered a sharp sound when he collapsed.

"Good thing you didn't get cut. That bottle landed right behind your heel. If you'd fallen backward... never mind."

Watching him play with the cranes, Kei asked:

"Did Ichinose make those for you?"

"Yeah. I was twelve. She said she'd fold 1,200 for me."

The cranes were beautifully crafted. Even if he only received a few dozen, the effort was clear.

"Wasn't there a legend that folding 1,000 cranes grants a wish?"

Kei remembered the meaning. She had once wanted to gift some to Maki but gave up due to lack of time.

"Yeah, but it's like a love fortune at a temple."

"If someone truly loves you, it doesn't matter if they fold 1,000 or not. If they don't, even a thousand won't change anything."

"If you take it too seriously, thinking folding 1,000 cranes will save a dying person or win back someone's heart..."

Ryo released one crane, watching it get caught by the wind until it vanished from sight.

"It'll just fly away."