After chatting with Kanzaki Sou for a while longer, the sports field beneath them had inadvertently grown silent.
After asking Kanzaki Sou once more to check the Student Council and receiving a definitive answer, Koharu Miura was reminded by the chilly wind on the rooftop that it was getting late.
Koharu Miura looked around and then down at the empty sports field, where the silence made the temperature feel even cooler.
The young girl shivered, and the idea of heading back down immediately took root.
The sun was about to sink below the horizon, leaving only a sliver of purple-red clouds in the sky.
The crimson glow at the edge of the sky looked like the sudden waves of emotion rising within her.
Having been contacted out of the blue by Kanzaki Sou, someone she hadn’t spoken to in a long time, Koharu Miura only realized how nervous she had been after the conversation ended.
Looking at the text he had sent, Koharu could even imagine Kanzaki Sou’s voice.
Her original intention of contacting Arisa Kiyono had been completely pushed to the back of her mind for a while.
“…”
‘No, what am I thinking?’
Koharu Miura shook her head, her black hair swaying back and forth with the motion.
The situation was getting more complicated. The matter with Arisa Kiyono was still unclear, and now she had been dragged into it as well.
The possibility of it being a coincidence was very low — one of the reasons for her judgment was that the whistleblower had also chosen to remain anonymous.
It just so happened that Arisa was caught while visiting a livehouse, it just so happened that it was the time they “accidentally” ran into Arisa with her friends, and it just so happened that she was reported right after that, specifically by name.
…There was no way to determine how the other party got her name, nor was there a way to confirm how they were gathering information for now.
The original mystery remained unsolved, and a new problem had already arrived.
She couldn’t afford to think about anything else under these circumstances.
She had to act, the sooner the better.
‘ — I have to talk to Arisa Kiyono again.’
Koharu Miura’s mind was made up.
……
By the time she reached home, the sun had completely sunk below the horizon, and the last traces of the afterglow had been consumed by a heavy, dark blue.
Opening the front door, the light in the genkan turned on automatically.
Her parents had mentioned earlier that they were going out of town to see a relative’s performance, so they wouldn’t be home for a while — Koharu Miura had been quite surprised when she first heard it.
It wasn’t just because someone among her relatives was in the entertainment industry; it was more that she hadn’t expected “Koharu Miura” to have any relatives besides her parents.
According to the System, “Koharu Miura’s parents” were originally pre-set but unreleased data.
It was only because her own activity had made Koharu Miura’s Anchoring more vivid and profound that the frozen data was released to make the world run more logically.
But Koharu had thought her parents were the extent of it, since she was just a background character.
If she had many complex personal relationships, it would actually be strange.
How much storage space would that game need? It was only about 90 GB when she played it, which was the standard size for games of that genre.
“…”
Thinking about these random things while cooking, Koharu Miura remained as distracted as usual.
She heated up some curry from the refrigerator, ate a simple meal, and then went back to her room.
Returning to the spot she had grown accustomed to over the past few days, she sat down at her desk, took a deep breath, and fished her phone out of her pocket.
She was actually a little afraid to look at her phone now, fearing that Kanzaki Sou might have sent another message.
But saying she was afraid to see Kanzaki Sou’s messages wasn’t quite accurate.
It was hard for Koharu Miura to describe the feeling.
It was as if seeing his words would make her remember his voice, which would then emerge in her mind beyond her control and regardless of her resistance.
“—!”
“Whoa!?”
The phone suddenly vibrated. Accompanied by the notification sound, Koharu Miura almost let the phone jump out of her palm.
She managed to catch the jumping phone, and the faint light of the screen was reflected in her pupils.
On the LIME interface — there was nothing.
It was just a daily news push, not a message from anyone.
“…”
Koharu Miura stared at the silent interface and pursed her lips.
A moment later, she clicked on the avatar of the idol she had added at noon.
Koharu Miura took the information mentioned in the replies — Arisa Kiyono’s lunch at school, the days she went to rehearsal, and her stage blocking with her teammates — and sent it all to her.
【From my perspective, I don’t know if the information in the schedule mentioned by that person is accurate… but if it is, being detailed to this degree makes it unlikely that they are just a netizen who is good at digging.】
【I’m inclined to believe the person’s identity is something other than just an online fan.】
【This is all the information I’ve integrated so far.】
After sending these messages, Koharu Miura gripped her phone nervously.
However, before the feeling of anticipation could even settle, the phone chimed.
She looked at the screen. The ‘Read’ status had already appeared next to the dialog box.
Had Arisa Kiyono been waiting for her message this whole time?
【Is there an original link to the post you mentioned?】
Although it was only a few words, Koharu Miura could feel Arisa Kiyono’s current mood.
The feeling of being unwilling to accept it, yet having no choice but to face such a reality.
Koharu Miura bit her lip.
【The post has already been cleared by the moderator, so I can’t share the link. If you have the patience to search the forum, Arisa, you might still be able to find it.】
She didn’t explicitly say she advised Arisa Kiyono against reading it, but Koharu still added a warning.
Then, after thinking for a moment, she sent the question she wanted the answer to most.
【Arisa, what I want to ask now is for you to think back carefully. In your life lately, besides the people who clearly came to harass you because they heard rumors, do you have any distinct memories of interacting with someone when the strange things first started happening?】
Then, fearing she was being too vague, Koharu Miura added another message.
【For example, after you started interacting with someone you hadn’t been in contact with before, did those things start happening?】
Although it wasn’t a good thing for Arisa Kiyono, Koharu Miura wanted to rule out the possibility of people from outside the school or members of the general public.
She didn’t tell Arisa because she was afraid it would make her anxious.
In fact, among the information in the poster’s replies, the one Koharu Miura cared about most and considered most valuable was that the person knew Arisa Kiyono went to rehearsal.
The person had specifically pointed out that Arisa Kiyono didn’t go to rehearsal sometimes, using that to claim Arisa was on bad terms with her teammates.
The problem was that, other than the teammates themselves, a fan who wasn’t involved with the group would only know when the idol had a performance and, at most, could guess which days they had rehearsals.
They had no way of knowing when an idol “didn’t” go to rehearsal.
So a theory emerged in Koharu Miura’s mind.
In the poster’s logic, they probably equated Arisa Kiyono appearing at school with Arisa Kiyono not going to rehearsal.
…It was uncertain whether Arisa Kiyono went to rehearsal when she wasn’t at school.
But on the days Arisa Kiyono came to school, she definitely couldn’t attend rehearsals on those days.
Therefore, if the poster was observing Arisa Kiyono’s attendance in their actual school life and using that to deduce her rehearsal schedule, it would explain why they knew she hadn’t gone to rehearsal and what she had for lunch.
But Arisa Kiyono’s reply was long in coming, and she fell into a long silence.
Koharu Miura curled up on her swivel chair, her chin resting on her knees, waiting slowly.
After an unknown amount of time, the phone vibrated slightly.
【I have never eaten anywhere other than the school cafeteria.】
Arisa Kiyono’s reply read as follows:
【If someone saw me, it could have been anyone in the cafeteria. I’ve never talked to anyone about what I eat for lunch.】
Koharu Miura’s brow slowly furrowed.
Arisa Kiyono said a few more things, and the general meaning was the same.
She hadn’t had any deep interactions with anyone at school, nor had she talked about her daily life or similar topics.
【I don’t talk to anyone in class, either.】
【Even if someone tries to come over and say hello, I just respond politely and walk away.】
【Though I occasionally get pestered, I never take the initiative to talk back.】
【Aside from the teacher calling my name, I don’t say more than five sentences on the days I’m at school.】
【As for rehearsals, I haven’t even told my parents the specific dates and arrangements in detail.】
She had no reason to lie, so…
‘ — Since Arisa Kiyono never had a deep conversation with anyone, then that information about rehearsals and lunch definitely didn’t spread through her as a verbal source.’
Koharu Miura had roughly narrowed down the final range of suspects.
There was only one group of people who could know whether Arisa Kiyono was in attendance or not.
And that was a classmate who was in the same class and could personally confirm whether that seat was empty every day.
Koharu Miura bit her nails. The tension from approaching the truth made her a bit restless.
At this moment, she was almost certain that the poster who was spouting nonsense on the forum, and who might have even actively led Arisa Kiyono into her current predicament, usually sat in some corner of the classroom with Arisa Kiyono every day.
‘ — And then, using those eyes full of jealousy and hate, they watch Arisa Kiyono’s back every single day.’
Koharu Miura took a deep breath.
…She couldn’t tell Arisa this conclusion now.
Arisa Kiyono’s mental state was already quite dangerous, and she was full of defensiveness and distrust toward those around her.
If she told her “the person hurting you is in the very classroom where you attend class every day,” the fear of being surrounded by malice at all times would explode instantly.
It would likely be the final straw that broke the camel’s back.
【I understand.】
Koharu Miura’s fingers danced across the screen.
【I’ll continue to investigate by ruling out candidates. Don’t worry too much.】
【If you receive any calls from unknown numbers lately, it’s best not to answer. Hang up and record the number.】
【Sorry.】
However, while Koharu Miura was still kindly reminding her, Arisa Kiyono sent a message that cut off the conversation.
【Something came up, so I can’t chat for now.】
【I’m about to start my evening training, so let’s leave it at that for today.】
【Thank you.】
Immediately afterward, Arisa Kiyono’s avatar went dark, showing that she was offline in the blink of an eye.
Koharu Miura stared at the dialog box that was no longer active, the words she wanted to follow up with frozen at her fingertips.
Her burning desire to investigate was instantly extinguished.
After a long time, she sighed and leaned back against the chair.
“One after another… can’t any of them just let me relax?”