From the perspective of Tsuge. (President’s real name)
The timeline is around episodes 8 and 9, as well as around 118 and 119, and also subtly includes a bit before episode 1.
Please be cautious as the image of the character may be distorted.
The first time I had a proper conversation with Maito-san, the dialogue went something like this.
“It’s not logical.”
“Even if there is a single square piece, if the others are assorted polygons, it doesn’t change the fact that they can’t be laid out together.”
I don’t remember how it came to this, but I do remember that Maito-san, who at the time called me by my last name rather than a nickname, said something like this.
—
“After all, it’s impossible to bring Maito-san along on this journey.”
I think I was the only one who said it, but even if I hadn’t, it would have been understood.
The ruins-like thing we found today is about a five-hour walk from the chemistry laboratory, and the monsters we encountered along the way were stronger than any we had met before.
“Though it’s shameful, indeed it is.”
Currently, Suzumoto, having been stabbed in the stomach through a gap in his armor, is creating a pool of blood while being healed by Hagasaki-san, and Hariu has lost a finger, which Katori is treating.
This is how we are after giving it our all, so if Maito-san were here, we definitely couldn’t proceed.
“But, what do we do? Leave her behind?”
“That’s the only option, isn’t it?”
Hagasaki-san’s grimace is probably more due to the guilt of leaving Maito-san behind alone than the disgust at finding such a decision logical. It’s a sensation I don’t understand.
“Hey, President.”
Suzumoto, seeming to have recovered from his injury, propped himself up and pressed near his stomach with a somewhat vacant look in his eyes.
“If we can’t return…for example, if we die, she would die too, right?”
“She would indeed.”
Without us, Maito-san, who has no means of procuring food or water, cannot survive in this world.
If our support ceases, she would easily die.
“It’s a simple matter if we don’t die.”
“Sure, I don’t want to die either, but it’s not like you die because you want to.”
Hariu’s finger seems to have been reattached, and he’s checking its condition by clenching and unclenching it.
“Proceeding on the premise that we will die is nonsensical. Our goal is not to ensure Maito-san’s survival. It is for all of us to return alive.”
“I understand that. But, it’s cowardly, isn’t it?”
Looking at Hagasaki-san, our cold glances collided.
“Isn’t it cowardly for us to say that? Maito doesn’t have a choice.”
Maito-san can’t choose.
If Maito-san dies, it might become difficult for us to live, but more importantly, if we die, Maito-san can’t survive.
From the beginning, Maito-san had no choice. If we say die, Maito-san has no choice but to die.
And, if we say die, Maito-san will surely die.
“That’s true. But it’s unavoidable. Is there a more logical method?”
There isn’t.
We all know that. We just can’t execute it.
I find that frustrating.
“There’s a condition. If she doesn’t suggest staying behind on her own, we won’t do it. Even if it takes time, we’ll move the base or leave someone from our group behind. President, okay?”
It’s not logical.
Not at all logical.
“That’s fine, but isn’t that more cowardly?”
“Maybe.”
Certainly, Maito-san, even being put through such a farce, would come to the conclusion.
However, it’s absurd. I can’t find meaning in spending time to reach a conclusion that’s already determined.
I can’t find meaning, but, probably, to others besides me, it’s necessary.
And that’s the way to get along well in this world, or even not in this world.
Even if I act logically, unless those around me act logically by the same standards, it doesn’t mesh and move smoothly.
Being the only square among them, the edges clash and wear down.
Mismatched polygons cannot be laid out together.
Humans are mismatched polygons.
I know.
Yet, I won’t stop trying to be rational.
Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be able to endure it.
I believe myself to be made rationally.
Thus, if I act rationally, it should undoubtedly be the action that places the least burden on myself.
I stepped forward because I thought it would be more satisfying than being driven by emotional arguments.
And then, I ended up seeing Maito-san’s cobalt blue dress dyed red.
—
“Whoa, is that okay?”
Toriumi peered in, the place where senior had slapped him quite obvious.
“Maito-san.”
“Hmm, Kariya treated her, but she hasn’t woken up yet. Hariu is looking after her now.”
By the time the explanation for and lecture from senior Itoigawa were finished, everything that could be done for Maito-san had been completed, and everyone was idly passing the time in a somewhat buoyant mood.
“Even so, it’s kind of rare, isn’t it?”
Toriumi continued with a wry smile.
“Maybe it’s bad to say, but it’s kind of unexpected that Maito-san ended up like this with the President around. Not blaming, just, it was unexpected.”
“Yes, I’m surprised myself.”
The decision to fight without killing Fukuyama still seems rational to me even now.
Even if there’s a possibility of reviving people, without a guarantee that it’s certain, killing someone is a risk.
Furthermore, we still don’t know how we could “die.”
Suzumoto lived even with his lower body burned away, and Maito-san lived even with her body melted and one leg gone.
I, too, have had my spine shattered once. Yet, I am still alive.
…However, there was “starvation.”
And we fought countless battles against monsters while using healing magic.
There’s no guarantee that the monsters can die but we cannot. Healing magic is not omnipotent.
Furthermore, we don’t know when we might die.
Clearly, “death” is distant in this world. But, that doesn’t mean “death” doesn’t exist.
I’m not foolish enough to be overly confident that we won’t accidentally cross that boundary while groping for it.
…So, it was right not to go kill Fukuyama.
Given that Fukuyama might hold crucial information, killing him would be too risky.
Therefore, it was very rational, and right. It should have been right.
…But, the result of that correctness was Maito-san’s injury.
Given that she remained unconscious even after her wounds were healed by magic, it must be quite serious.
As if death was close.
…Seeing this situation, I wonder if I really made the right decision.
If I had to weigh Fukuyama and Maito-san on my scales, it would undoubtedly tip in Maito-san’s favor.
“I’ll also go see Maito-san.”
“Ah, okay, understood.”
When I saw the blood dyeing the cobalt blue dress, there’s no doubt my body reflexively moved to kill.
However, whether it was reason that stopped me, or… I don’t want to think about it, but perhaps it was fear.
Fear of killing someone.
…Whether not killing was rational, a result of following emotional arguments, or if killing would have been rational, or perhaps emotional, even that had become ambiguous.
“Ah, President.”
Entering the room, I definitely felt a sense of release. The Origin, likely.
And there was Hariu, slumped with his arms and chin resting on the edge of the bed where Maito-san was lying.
“Yes.”
He thrust something he was holding at me.
…It’s the Origin bracelet that Maito-san was equipped with.
“Senior said, ‘you guys should wear this-‘”
If that’s the case, I have no choice but to equip it.
The nature of the Origin is still not well understood, but it’s clear that it’s better to remove it from Maito-san than to keep it equipped.
Something I’ve been thinking since the first few days we arrived in this world is that Maito-san is too quiet when she sleeps.
Literally sleeping like the dead, it seems to make Hariu anxious, so he occasionally touches Maito-san’s abdomen through the blanket to check if she’s breathing.
“Hey, President,”
Hariu, who is the opposite of quiet when sleeping, started talking while looking at Maito-san.
“I couldn’t kill Fukuyama.”
Hariu’s gaze didn’t move from Maito-san’s pale face.
“Somehow, after all this time killing monsters and injuring people quite a bit, it might be too late to say, but, still, killing people, it’s different from just injuring them.”
This world, with its healing magic, makes injury and death less directly connected.
It’s as if there’s a high wall separating the two.
And Hariu isn’t the type to make such distinctions easily.
In a way, his personality might be the exact opposite of mine. I think that’s one of his good points, though.
“What a coincidence. I was thinking the same thing.”
“Eh, you too, President?”
Hariu, surprised as if it’s rare, continued.
“President, you think about that kind of thing… oh, wait, you don’t mean physically unable to kill, do you?”
“There were physical opportunities several times. I mean in terms of emotions.”
Saying that, Hariu looked genuinely surprised… which was quite rude.
“…Do you have a fever?”
“No.”
When Hariu reached out his hand towards my forehead, I dodged, and he retracted his hand with a disappointed look.
“…Emotions, like, guilt or fear of killing someone?”
“It’s whether the decision was made rationally not to kill, or if that decision was influenced by emotions, I can’t determine.”
Speaking it out makes the facts and memories feel even heavier. (I don’t believe in the power of language, but I do believe in the placebo effect.)
“That’s unexpected. I thought, President, you, wouldn’t really care about that sort of thing.”
What Hariu said is something I’ve thought about myself.
While here, my role demands me to be rational.
Naturally, such wavering is not desirable.
“It’s no good, is it? Me… wavering like this, and it turned out like this.”
“Let’s hope there isn’t a next time, but if there is, next time, we may have to kill.”
If aiming for the best results in the worst scenario, it’s better not to aim for such things from the start.
If it’s best not to kill someone, then so be it, but maybe we should be prepared to kill just in case.
…What a terrible world.
It would be better if there was no part of me that indulged in emotional reasoning, something so irrational.
Whether the decision sways towards killing or not killing, in either case, it should be based on rational thought, so not being able to kill this time was… a mistake in judgment.
Certainly not a result of being swayed by emotions.
After that, Maito-san showed no signs of waking up, and senior slapped us with “How long are you guys going to stay in a girl’s room while she’s sleeping!” and kicked us out.
The next morning, Maito-san was still sleeping when I went to check on her.
A little later, Hariu checked on her, but she was still asleep, and when I entered the room again before noon… Maito-san was stirring under the blanket.
“Maito-san, how are you feeling?”
When I called out to her, Maito-san looked at my face intently and made an indescribable expression.
“Ah, yeah, the blanket is too comfy to get out of, but I’m fine. I’m fine, but President, what happened to your face?”
…The slap I received from senior was quite powerful. It must still be marked.
“I was slapped by senior Itoigawa.”
“Why would that happen?”
As Maito-san tried to get out of bed, I pressed her head down to keep her under the blanket. She must still be anemic.
“Because I allowed you to wander the edge of life and death.”
…It was hard to say that senior hit me again in the morning while Hariu and I were watching Maito-san, scolding us with “You perverts! How long are you going to stare at Maito sleeping! Disgusting!”.
“That’s… extremely unreasonable.”
Maito-san’s objectivity in such matters is indeed remarkable.
I’ve been thinking, Maito-san is overly objective when it comes to herself.
Subjective towards everything else, though.
…As our conversation progressed, we ended up discussing the trolley problem.
Well, I steered the conversation that way.
It’s about weighing lives. It probably wasn’t a pleasant topic, but Maito-san entertained the discussion.
Maito-san said something like this:
“It’s because there’s a resistance to humans killing humans, and that’s… probably an important thing for humans.”
We had previously debated the reasons why it’s wrong for humans to kill each other.
…The conclusion was quite complex and not very elegant, so I’ll omit it, but in essence, it boiled down to the notion that it’s natural given humans are social creatures.
But that’s under circumstances where people don’t have to kill or be killed.
If not, I believe it’s justifiable as self-defense or emergency avoidance, to kill.
Otherwise, why can’t I accept it?
“It’s not rational.”
My actions shouldn’t be dictated by such irrational reasons as a resistance to killing. I should be rational; it’s my role here and the lifestyle I’ve chosen.
So, my discomfort comes from believing that killing is not rational.
Despite that thought.
“Humans are a bundle of irrationality. And you are human. It’s unavoidable.”
Yet, Maito-san says something like this.
She claims I’m human, an irrational being.
And calls it an unavoidable situation.
—
There was a time, before we came to this world, during the spring camp, I think.
Away from those who had fallen asleep and others engrossed in different topics, we discussed if society would function more rationally without humanity’s irrational aspects.
Suzumoto laughed, calling it a dystopian ideology, and Maito-san dismissed it, saying, “That’s impossible.”
When asked why, she said,
“As long as you feel love for what you like, wanting to cherish those feelings and objects is natural.”
Thus, humanity’s irrationality cannot be removed. That was her answer.
I couldn’t refute it.
I had planned to devise a logic that could challenge Maito-san’s stance, but I’ve yet to find it.
Whether it’s because Maito-san’s view is absurdly off or actually correct, I don’t know.
Either way, it’s irrational. Too irrational, I think.
Yet, unable to deny it, I must conclude that I, too, harbor such irrational aspects like those Maito-san mentioned.
I must acknowledge the existence of this irrational part of me. And surprisingly, I don’t dislike it.
—
“…You’re right. Being narrow-minded is the worst. It’s not about zeros and ones. I understand. It’s okay. I can consider derailing the trolley by half-pulling the lever… I’m fine now.”
I am human, regrettably.
Saying this, Maito-san smiled somewhat relievedly.
“The existence of a single square piece doesn’t change the fact that it can’t be laid out with mismatched polygons,” doesn’t only apply between me and others but probably also within myself.
There must be several mismatched polygonal pieces inside me that aren’t squares.
If I carved those pieces into squares, I would…
…Realizing I had been holding my breath, I exhaled and looked at Maito-san again, noticing her pallor.
“…You’re too kind, Maito-san. It would be easier if I were blamed.”
Keeping these mismatched shapes as they are might mean pushing the consequences onto Maito-san or someone else.
Next time, by not killing someone, I might end up dead.
Yet, Maito-san accepts that.
“From my perspective, you guys are too kind… Thank you for letting me be kind.”
“The sentiment is mutual.”
I thought about talking to Hariu again.
A new conversation might reveal a different solution to this problem.
Probably, I’ll be asked if I’m feverish again. Maybe even more perplexed.
The thought of that moment makes me a bit excited.