Chapter 91: As If Sinking Into the Abyss

Xiao Chun Miura couldn’t help but slap her palm against the wall beside her.

But that did nothing to vent her frustration—instead, it left her palm stinging with pain.

Today’s emotions weren’t just interfering with her plans.

More than that, there were other things weighing on Xiao Chun Miura.

***

The Borrowed Item Relay in the Committee group had already ended.

On the fourth day of Sports Day, she no longer had any chance to interact with Kanzaki Sou.

The Committee group’s match had been the only extra opportunity she’d fought for—a unique event during Sports Day that allowed her to connect with Kanzaki Sou.

Tomorrow, on the day of the Class Group’s Borrowed Item Relay, Kanzaki Sou and Kondo Haruka would officially participate together as partners for Class (1).

And with the Committee group’s match over, and herself not being a student of Class (5), she’d probably, just like these past few days, have no chance to even watch Kanzaki Sou’s race from the track tomorrow.

She could only imagine, in her mind, the scene of them working together in perfect sync.

At the finish line, Kondo Haruka would laugh freely, boldly showing the crowd of students that she was the “Best Partner” who could bring victory to Kanzaki Sou.

Would Kanzaki Sou even show her the slightest special treatment tomorrow?

Probably not.

Surrounded by the joy of victory and childhood friends, he might easily forget today’s little episode.

Would his favorability rating toward Kondo Haruka also skyrocket during tomorrow’s race, pushing past that threshold that would erase her own existence?

No more chances.

That thought crept up her ankle with a cold sensation.

The situation had already slipped beyond her control, and now, she could hardly interfere with how things would develop.

No matter how much she tried to cheer herself up, telling herself it wasn’t over yet—that there was still a chance for a turnaround.

But reality was as it was.

As cold as her feet at this moment, like falling into an ice cave.

She had tried so hard.

She’d done so many things she couldn’t have done before—yet, in the end, could she still not escape the fate of a “Background Character”?

She’d never had much presence in the Reality World anyway…

But that just meant being ignored, uncared for, unloved.

Was that really a crime worthy of execution in the Game World?

Was she to be erased by the damned World Rules, like deleting a line of wrong code?

No.

She heard the sound escape her lips.

She hadn’t even intended to speak.

“I don’t want to die.”

A powerful emotion turned into a choked gasp.

Without realizing it, tears welled up in her eyes.

Xiao Chun Miura gritted her teeth, refusing to let them fall.

At that moment—

“Ding-dong~”

Her phone in her pocket chimed—a clear, untimely, yet strangely well-timed notification.

On the quiet street, the sound was especially sharp, almost noisy.

Xiao Chun Miura trembled all over.

The gloom still weighed on her, making her movements sluggish as she reached for her phone.

Who would it be at this hour?

Yui and the others?

She took out her phone and lit up the screen.

On the LIME notification bar, a familiar avatar was bouncing.

The instant she saw the ID, Xiao Chun Miura’s heart contracted sharply.

It was—

It was [SS].

A message from Kanzaki Sou.

At a time like this?

What could he want to say?

That tiny flame of hope called “expectation”, which had already cooled, flickered up again inside her.

But it was quickly drowned out by an even deeper bitterness.

Her hand, holding the phone, hovered over the app for a moment before her trembling finger moved away.

What’s the point of messaging me now?

Is he trying to comfort me?

He doesn’t even know my situation.

And I don’t need comforting.

Even if it was about something else, at this moment, Xiao Chun Miura felt too drained to respond.

She was about to put her phone back in her pocket.

Haa.

Though her thoughts were steeped in defeat, she finally slid the lock screen open and entered the LIME chat.

[SS: Good evening, Miura-san.]

[SS: After the match ended, classmates from my class dragged me off to celebrate, then I had to help clean up the equipment, so I only just finished.]

Looking at the words on the screen, Xiao Chun Miura’s lips curled into a self-mocking smile.

Celebrating, huh.

Of course—so many first-place wins, taking first in the Borrowed Item Relay with a childhood friend, it’s definitely something to celebrate.

She didn’t type a reply.

But Kanzaki Sou continued sending messages.

[SS: You worked really hard today. Even if the result was a bit disappointing, just like I said after the match, I saw all your efforts—you were amazing.]

Still so gentle, Kanzaki-kun.

A strange pain shot through Xiao Chun Miura’s heart.

Such impeccable kindness could be a salvation at times—but right now, it was like a dull knife, slowly grinding away at her heart.

She regretted opening LIME.

She couldn’t keep reading.

As Xiao Chun Miura considered typing some polite words to end the conversation, or maybe just putting her phone away for good, a new message popped up.

[SS: You’ll be participating in tomorrow’s Class Group Borrowed Item Relay too, right, Miura-san?]

[SS: It’s a pity we lost as partners today, but even as rivals, I hope you do well tomorrow.]

[SS: The disappointment from today can be reclaimed tomorrow.]

[SS: If it’s you, Miura-san, I know you’ll shine in the Class Group competition.]

[SS: Good luck! I’m looking forward to seeing you on the field tomorrow.]

Xiao Chun Miura stared blankly at the string of messages, her finger suspended above the screen for a long time.

The night breeze brought a chill, seeping through her thin uniform.

Her eyes stung.

So one-sided.

She muttered softly.

Kanzaki Sou still thought she would be in tomorrow’s race.

Seeing her gloomy after today’s match, he assumed it was just because she lost, and naturally thought she’d want to win back her pride.

And so, he tried to comfort her.

How very… Kanzaki Sou.

An optimistic, positive, and dazzling misunderstanding.

But, Kanzaki-kun.

Some people aren’t as you imagine them to be.

No matter what, I’m different from you, from Kondo Haruka, from Yui Hori.

I’m not the protagonist of this world, nor am I a high school girl overflowing with youth.

I’m just a wretched creature forced to struggle desperately to survive, full of lies, even calculating against you.

A despicable person.

Xiao Chun Miura quietly gazed at her phone.

Tomorrow’s match belonged to Kanzaki Sou and Kondo Haruka of Class (1).

A gloomy, introverted, sports-inept library committee member of Class (5) like her—if not for a specific purpose, why would she ever sign up for an event that required running, falling, and sweating in front of the whole school?

If not for survival, she wouldn’t even bother changing into sportswear.

Bitterness spread in her chest.

Kanzaki Sou would never understand her.

And yet, he still tried to comfort her.

That kind misunderstanding hurt all the more at this moment.

The “Xiao Chun Miura” in Kanzaki Sou’s eyes, and her real self, were completely different people.

Xiao Chun Miura took a deep breath, trying to steady her trembling fingers.

***

“Reply.”

Whether she replied or not changed nothing—but at least replying made her feel alive.

[Xiao Chun Miura: Thank you for your encouragement, Kanzaki-kun.]

[Xiao Chun Miura: But I’m sorry to disappoint you.]

She stood motionless in the street for a long time, editing and rewriting, but ultimately chose the simplest words.

[Xiao Chun Miura: I won’t participate in tomorrow’s Class Group Borrowed Item Relay. I never signed up for that event.]

She quietly pressed send.

The “Read” marker appeared almost instantly.

A few seconds later, Kanzaki Sou’s reply arrived.

[SS: Is that so?]

[SS: Sorry, it was my own misunderstanding.]

[SS: That’s a shame. I thought you’d be a strong opponent, Miura-san.]

A shame, huh?

Xiao Chun Miura pressed her dry lips together and typed a reply.

[Xiao Chun Miura: It’s okay. You too, Kanzaki-kun—do your best tomorrow. Keep taking first place with Kondo-san.]

Yes, that’s what a considerate, unobtrusive partner should say.

One minute passed.

Two minutes passed.

Five minutes passed.

The screen brightened and dimmed, and she kept turning it back on.

On the chat interface, the last message was still her own hollow blessing.

Even a single sticker, a simple “Thank you”, even just an “Mm”.

Kanzaki Sou didn’t reply.