After ascending the stairs — hand in hand under the watchful eyes of nearby students — they made their way through the long, winding hallway. Their destination lay just past the Literary and Debating Club: the Bluebell Foundation's clubroom.
The door slid open, and inside, Yamaguchi Asahi was already hard at work, jotting down notes of the contents in the boxes scattered across the room.
"Good morning, Asahi," Kanade greeted, her voice returning to its usual calm and composed tone.
"Good morning," Asahi replied, sparing Okamura a smirk and a side-eye that was just a little too knowing for his liking. "And good morning to you too, Okamura."
By that point, their hands had already separated, so there was no way Asahi could have known anything had happened — yet it was as if he did. Like he had planned for it all along.
"If you have time," Kanade began, "I'll need you help with a few things today. And you, Kintarō — I'll need your help carrying a few of these empty boxes to Kobayashi-sensei's office. Would you be willing to assist?"
"Will you, Kintarō?" Asahi teased, still assessing the boxes and not even bothering to look up.
Reluctantly, as usual, Okamura replied with little conviction, "…I will."
"Perfect," Kanade said with a gentle smile. "I'll contact you when its time, okay?"
Asahi chuckled in the background, his smirk widening as he watched them.
-----
"Imagine a world before birth," the psychologist began, reasoning with the class, "but instead of a setup where you know nothing about who you will be, you'll have complete clarity. You'll be able to see your entire life ahead — every detail. Your body, health, height, gender, ethnicity, economic status, intelligence, personality, trauma, family… even your lifespan. All of it would be known to you — but you won't be able to change any of it."
Okamura wasn't at all intrigued by the topic in question. How could he be, when the girl he had betrayed was sitting a few seats ahead of him?
The breakup really taken its toll on him. He'd missed school for three days. His eyes had been red from the constant bawling. His figure — fatigued from barely eating. His spiralling mind. And the dark, heavy shadows closing in on him.
It was all because of her — Minamoto Koyori.
Staring out the third-floor classroom window, Okamura fixated on the blooming sakura tree towering just outside. His thoughts wandered to what Kanade had said to him earlier:
"Not to change the subject so suddenly… but I've been wondering about last weekend."
"Last weekend?"
Okamura hesitated. "…That thing you did before you left. I was wonde—"
She cut him off almost instantly. "It's exactly what it looked like… and you should take it the way it is."
Kanade's azure-blue eyes had met his amber ones, her voice softening further. "I know you've been a part of the club for a long time… and I really don't have many friends. Besides you, Asahi, Koyori, and… Yuji, I really don't have anyone…"
Stoically, Okamura responded, gripping her hand tighter but averting her gaze. "If you want someone to talk — about anything, and I mean anything — I'm here. I've always be here… ever since I joined Bluebelle at the start of my last year of junior high."
"But still… that isn't enough. Being alone nearly ninety percent of the time has made me feel so empty inside. And with Yuji…"
"Kanade," he said, cutting her off gently, "you need to listen to me. I'm here. I'll always be here. I'm just a call away. If you ever need someone to talk to or the comfort of someone's presence, I'll be there. I promise."
His eyes flickered between Koyori and the professor, mind conflicted as to what to think.
"…the reverse veil of ignorance doesn't remove bias — it magnifies it," the psychologist continued. "It forces you to confront your own interests in the most intimate way possible. There is no hiding behind abstractions or principles. Your decision is now directly tied to your future — to your pain or your comfort, your struggle or your power — and so the thought experiment becomes a mirror, asking: 'What do you when you know exactly what you stand to lose or gain?'"
Just then, the bell rang, indicating the start of the lunch period.
"Will you be able to overcome bias? Can you emphasize with others even when you don't have to? Can you resist the pull of self-interest when it is staring you in the face?"
"What kind of fairness do you believe in? Is fairness about giving everyone the same opportunities, even if you don't all start at the same place? Is fairness about equality of outcome, where the end result matters more than the initial condition? Or is fairness simply doing what you can for yourself and letting others do the same?"
"The reverse veil of ignorance exposes the relationship between identity and ethics. It doesn't just ask what kind of society is fair — it asks what kind of person you are."
"If you're able to read more on this topic in your free time, that'd be great. Class is dismissed."
Quickly, Okamura packed up his books and pen. But just as he stood to leave, a hand slammed down on the table in front of him.
"Where the hell have you been for the past week," came the deep voice from above.
Without responding, Okamura slid the chair back and stepped away.
"Dude. I'm talking to you."
Okamura paused, taking a deep breath as if carefully contemplating his next words.
"Listen, Ryozo. I'm really not in the mood for your shit right now," he said, brushing past him.
"I'm only checking on you, Sakata. You being missing for the whole week, and I haven't heard a word from Koyori about you made me worry."
Okamura stopped momentarily, staring at him with a blank expression. He didn't respond. Without a response, he walked pass Satō Ryozo, not even sparing him a glance.
As he stepped out into the hallway, Ishikawa Aika — his girlfriend from junior high up until recently — approached Ryozo.
"Still no answer from him either?"
"None at all," Ryozo replied, watching him disappear down the corridor.
The hallway buzzed with noise, laughter, and life. But to Okamura, it all felt like an annoyance — an unwanted reminder that he no longer wanted to be there. His mind craved only one thing: peace. Solace. Something to quell this feeling of absentmindedness. Anything to dispel the storm raging within him.
He ascended the stairwell, randoseru in hand, each step pushing him further and further away from the noise, the gossip, the people who once retributed him. At the top, he pushed the door open to the rooftop. A warm spring breeze swept across his face, and above, the sky stretched wide like the landscape painting it was.
How ironic was the universe. How something so majestic and simple could be so impossibly complex by nature.
Okamura knew, deep down, that nothing was what it seemed. Still, he wanted to cling to the little solace that it brought — just this once.
He let his randoseru drop on the ground and stepped toward the chain-link fence, eyes drifting to the school yard below.
He stood there silently — an observer trapped within his own body. And maybe he had all right to feel that way. A second chance at life haunted by the scent of death. His crumbling family —his parents' separation, the separation from his sister, and the abuse. And now… the loss of his best friend and girlfriend. Everything felt like a chip on his shoulders, ready to consume him.
His hands moved on their own, fingers curling around the cold steel of the fence. And without thinking, his body began to climb.
Higher.
And higher.
And higher.
Below, the world continued as if nothing was wrong. Students laughed on. Students ran about. Students jollied along while he was in his peril.
«Σπάσε σαν το αδύναμο ραβδί που είσαι».
«Τουλάχιστον τώρα θα μπορέσεις να βρεις λίγη γαλήνη».