The Empty Box and Zeroth Maria
Book 1: Chapter 6

4,609^th Time

“A truck hit Haruaki.”

5,232^nd Time

“A truck hit Kasumi Mogi.”

27,753^rd Time

It’s soccer day in PE.

I have a bloody nose, and I’m resting my head on Mogi’s lap. She’s still in her regular school uniform.

I suddenly wonder what prompted Mogi to say I could rest my head on her. Is this the kind of thing she would do if she was trying to win me over?

I glance up at her face, but all I can see is the same vacant expression she always has, as if there’s nothing on her mind at all.

“What is it?”

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Huh?”

Mogi tilts her head, but no answer is forthcoming. Her only response is a puzzled look.

I mull this over. Would it be impossible to build a romantic relationship with such a blank slate?

Why do I have feelings for a girl as confusing as Mogi?

And when exactly did they start?

I try to remember.

“……Huh?”

“…What is it?” asks Mogi at my sudden outburst.

“Oh, uh… It’s nothing.”

I’m sure my expression exposes my lie. Mogi can see that, but she isn’t prepared to pry further, so she just closes her mouth.

I get up without protest from her.

“Well… It looks like the bleeding stopped.”

“…Yeah.”

That’s the extent of our conversation.

Why did I voluntarily end what would normally be an awesome situation? I might never be that happy again ever in my life.

But I just can’t.

I mean, I can’t remember.

I can’t remember. I can’t remember. I can’t remember! I can’t remember when I started to like Mogi!

Why am I attracted to her? What about her caught my eye? Did I just find myself drawn to her for no real reason?

I should know at least that—there’s no reason I shouldn’t, but for the life of me I can’t recall any of it.

It wasn’t love at first sight. I’ve never interacted with Mogi outside of school.

So when did it all happen? Did my love just bloom out of nothing?

“—It can’t be.”

There’s no way it could be true, but it’s the only thing I can imagine. My love for Mogi just appeared out of thin air.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? …Maybe you need to go to the nurse’s office,” says Mogi in a wispy voice.

But even so, I’m over the moon that she’s worried about me. I’m happy, pure and simple. There’s no way this feeling could be anything but real.

“…I’m fine. I was just thinking about something.”

I ask myself over and over if I’m wrong, but the more I do, the more convinced I am it’s true:

I wasn’t interested in Mogi.

And when did that change? That’s right…

…It was yesterday.

“Oh, I see.”

I look over at the transfer student, Aya Otonashi, where she stands stock-still in the middle of the schoolyard.

When did my feelings for Mogi blossom? The answer is simple. It wasn’t yesterday, even though I’m definitely head over heels for her today. So when, exactly?

It would be impossible during the short time between yesterday and today.

So it could have happened only during the more than twenty thousand times the Rejecting Classroom put me through all this.

There it is. I remember now. It’s just a fragment, but it’s probably the most I’ve been able to recall up to this point. Still, it’s the barest sliver of a recollection, and any substantial memory remains as lost as all the others to me.

The memory of how I fell in love with Mogi, a memory I should cherish above all others, slipped away from me. I’m sure I’ll continue to lose it each time. I can’t share anything with her. Nothing can change that, no matter how many times we go through this. My one-sided love will only grow, never to be acted upon.

Maybe that’s not what I should be concerned about, though. It’s possible the end of the Rejecting Classroom could also spell the end of my romantic feelings for Mogi. After all, they would never have existed without the classroom, right?

It feels wrong. That can’t possibly be right. There’s absolutely no way these feelings could be a lie.

But if they were never actually possible in the first place, what are they if not false?

A sudden gust of wind blows before the end of class. It lifts Mogi’s skirt. I’m not sure why, but in some corner of my mind I get the sense I already knew she’d be wearing light-blue underwear.

Yeah, I definitely did.

I knew the color of her underwear today. And I know that Kasumi Mogi is the one Aya Otonashi sacrifices most frequently in order to retain her memories.

That’s what settles it for me.

I’ll make sure this Rejecting Classroom never ends.

✵

Aya Otonashi doesn’t initiate any contact with me on this loop.

This isn’t a first, though. I get the feeling she didn’t last time, either.

My memories are hazy, but it seems she hasn’t been trying to mess with me at all recently.

It’s our lunch break, and Aya Otonashi is sitting apart from the others in the classroom, nibbling a piece of bread as if it’s just a tasteless form of sustenance.

I approach her.

Just being near Otonashi is enough to make my body tense and my heart rate skyrocket. Her rejection of others seems vastly greater than before, as if it’s physically pushing me away.

“…Otonashi.”

Speaking to her takes considerable willpower, but she doesn’t turn to look at me. At this distance, there’s no way she didn’t hear. That’s why I continue anyway.

“We need to talk about something.”

“Not with me, you don’t.”

Shut down just like that.

“Otonashi.”

No response. She keeps munching her bread with distaste.

I guess she intends to ignore me no matter what I say. If I want a response, I’ll have to do something she can’t tune out.

After a bit of thought, the perfect thing pops into my head.

“…Maria.”

The listless chewing suddenly ceases.

“We need to talk about something.”

Not even that is enough to get her to spare me a glance, but she nods without a word.

Stillness has overtaken the classroom. Everyone’s holding their breath, waiting to see what happens next.

Perhaps realizing she’s lost this little battle of wills, Otonashi eventually sighs in exhaustion.

“You must be remembering quite a bit this time if you can say that name.”

“Yeah, that’s why I—”

“But there’s still nothing for us to talk about.”

And with that, Otonashi goes back to apathetically eating her bread.

“Why?!”

The attention of the room turns toward me at my unexpected outburst.

“What’s your problem? I’m the one you’re supposed to be doing something about, right? How come you won’t listen to what I have to say?!”

“Why?” Otonashi snorts in derision. “You seriously don’t get it, do you? Ha! Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re always a complete idiot like this. You couldn’t figure anything out by yourself if you tried. Why did I have to end up stuck with you?”

“…I don’t know what some other me did in another time, but—”

“Some other you? Don’t be stupid. Why do you think another you would be any different from this you? You’re exactly the same.”

“What makes you so sure? I could say that I want to help you. If I did, then—”

“That wouldn’t matter in the slightest.” Otonashi cuts me off vehemently, not even waiting to hear the rest of the sentence.

My plan was to match her word for word, but her onslaught is enough to overwhelm any comeback.

“It’s because this isn’t the second or even the third time you’ve said these exact words to me.”

“Huh?”

There must be something amusing about my dumbstruck expression, because Otonashi smirks slightly and puts her half-eaten bread back in its bag.

“Fine. What’s a little more worthless time spent? I’ve already explained this to you more than a few times, too, so I might as well do it again.”

Otonashi stands up and walks off.

All I can do is shut up and follow her.

✵

Otonashi leads me to the usual spot behind the school. As always, she leans against the wall of the building.

“Let’s get one thing straight: This is not a discussion. All you’re going to do is clean out your ears like a good little fool and listen.”

“…I’ll do whatever I want.”

With a cold glare, Otonashi effortlessly brushes aside my feeble attempt at resistance. “Do you know how many times it’s been now, Hoshino? I’m sure you don’t. This is the 27,753rd time.”

What an absurd number.

“…Are you really keeping count of them all?”

“Yes, because if I stop counting even once, there’s no way to go back and check how many times it’s been. If I lose track of that, then I’ll lose all sense of where I am. That’s why I keep count.”

That makes sense. If you have no idea where you started, at least knowing how many steps you’ve taken would bring a tiny bit of relief.

“That’s how many times we’ve been through this all. I’ve exhausted every approach with you. I can’t come up with anything else to try.”

“That’s why you think it’s pointless to talk to me.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve tried persuading me to give you the Box?”

“I gave up on that a long time ago.”

“Why? I’m sure out of all those loops, there must’ve been at least one when I was easy to win over.”

“Yeah, of course there was. There were times when you were hostile and times when you were cooperative. But the thing is, none of that matters. Regardless of your attitude, you haven’t given up the Box even once.”

Even my cooperative self hasn’t handed it over… That seems clear when I think about it. If Otonashi ever did get ahold of the Box, our current reality inside the Rejecting Classroom would no longer exist.

“And you’re absolutely sure that I have it?”

“I’ve always harbored some doubts, but the conclusion I reach is the same every time. There is no doubt that you, Kazuki Hoshino, are the owner of the Box.”

“Why is that?”

“There aren’t as many possible suspects as you seem to believe. Explaining the ins and outs of why that is would take forever, so I’ll make it short. Suffice to say, it would be impossible for this small range of suspects to maintain their deception for all 27,753 times. That’s why you are the only conceivable owner of the Box. Besides, you have some irrefutable proof, yourself, right?”

She’s correct. I have met *, the Box’s distributor.

“Even so, you never bring it out. Rather, you can’t. You’ve never been able to in any of the twenty-thousand-plus times that have passed since I identified you as the owner.”

“That’s why you’ve given up?”

Someone like Otonashi, who would do anything to get the Box, has thrown in the towel?

“No, I haven’t. There’s simply no means of getting it from you. It’s like when you’re convinced there’s a hundred-yen coin in your wallet, but you can’t find it no matter how much you dig. Of course, the first thing you do is search every last bit of space inside the wallet. But even then, it doesn’t turn up. The only thing you can do at that point is reason that maybe the coin isn’t in there after all. Over the course of these 27,753 times, I have concluded that, just like the coin in the wallet, it is absolutely impossible to get the Box out of Kazuki Hoshino.”

After one final scowl, Otonashi turns away from me.

“Anyway, that’s the end of this farce. Is there anything else you’d like to say?”

“…There is. That’s why I wanted to talk to you in the first place.”

I have to say it.

I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to protect the Rejecting Classroom.

If Otonashi is going to murder Mogi over and over, then I…

“Otonashi—Aya Otonashi, you…”

“‘…Are my enemy from now on,’ right?”

“Wha—?!”

Otonashi beats me to the punch, finishing the desperate declaration that was taking so much effort for me to say.

She isn’t even looking at me, as if she couldn’t care less.

After a weary sigh, utterly disgusted at my speechless astonishment, she turns back toward me as if she has no other choice.

“You still don’t get it, do you, Hoshino? How long do you think I’ve had to put up with you and your idiocy? This is just another routine we’ve gone through so many times it makes me sick. There’s no way I wouldn’t know what you planned to say.”

“B-but—”

Was I always this determined each time? Was my resolve always meaningless?

“I’ll share something else with you. Even when you get up the nerve to make me your enemy, even when you try with all your might to carry over your memories, you never seem to care in the end.”

“B-but that’s…!”

That would mean I’m allowing Mogi to be murdered. That would mean I’m choosing to lose my feelings for her.

“Don’t believe me? Should I tell you the reason you yourself have given me dozens of times?”

I clench my jaw.

Otonashi turns her back on me, signaling that this conversation is at an end.

“That conviction of yours has never wavered even after more than twenty thousand times, I’ll give you that.”

I rise without thinking.

Did Otonashi just imply that she respects me?

“Wait.” There’s one thing I haven’t asked her yet.

She looks back at me over her shoulder.

I continue. “You aren’t trying to take the Box from me anymore?”

“That’s what I said, yes.”

“Then what are you going to do now?”

Nothing changes in her expression. She simply stares at me, her gaze steady and unwavering.

I can’t help it; confronted by such brazen eyes, I’m the first to look away.

“Ah…”

Otonashi suddenly marches off without another word, much less an answer to my question.

✵

Otonashi must’ve gone straight home, because she’s not in the classroom when I return.

It’s fifth period. I still can’t make heads or tails of these math equations I must have heard thousands of times now, so I give up on paying attention and concentrate on Mogi instead.

Could I really abandon her to her fate? Could my feelings for her dissolve just like that?

No. It’s impossible. I don’t care what reasons those past versions of me may have had.

All that matters is that the current me can’t give up on her.

Fifth period ends.

I make a beeline for Mogi. Noticing my approach, she gazes back at me with her big eyes. That alone is enough to make my body go as rigid as stone. My heart skips a beat or two.

That’s what power she has over me. That’s how much what I’m about to do means to me.

I’m planning to do something that I would never, ever consider doing under normal circumstances.

I have no other choice, though. It’s the only way I can think of to hold on to my memories.

My only option is to tell Mogi how I feel.

“Mogi…”

I’m sure I look nuts, what with my nervousness and the other thoughts racing through my mind. Mogi tilts her head and gives me a curious look.

“Hey, I need to tell you something…”

“Wait until tomorrow.”

“Ah…”

Something like a scene from a movie forms in my head, the audio playing whether I want it to or not. The image is clear, bright, and painful, like having my eyes, eardrums, and brains smashed through a pane of glass.

My heart starts pounding, like a hammer slamming into my ribcage.

N-no!

I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to remember any of this! I tried so hard to erase it, but it never went away. So many other important things flee my mind each time, but this one memory always remains.

Yeah. I’m sure of it.

I’ve confessed to her before.

“…Are you all right?”

“……Sorry, forget I said anything.”

I walk away from Mogi. She frowns as if she doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t pursue the matter any further.

I return to my seat and slump over the desk.

“……I get it now.”

It’s all so obvious once I think about it. It’s not like this hasn’t played out over twenty thousand times now.

I profess my love to Mogi, but then I forget. So I profess my love again, and I forget again. I’ve made this confession that I never even wanted to make over and over and over again, all to resist the effects of the Rejecting Classroom, only to forget I had even done so.

And each time, I get the last response in the world I want to hear. It’s always the same. The only reply I ever get is the absolute worst one. It’s set in stone. There’s no reason to think Mogi’s answer will ever change if she can’t retain her memories.

That answer is—

“Wait until tomorrow.”

It’s the worst possible thing she could say, because for us there will never be a tomorrow.

With the most determination I’ve ever had in my life, I muster up courage I never knew I had, my nerves frayed to the breaking point, only to have my words vanish into nothingness as if they were never spoken. To make it worse, I’m forced to initiate this interaction even though she’s forgotten my profession of love so many times before.

…But I see the truth now. There’s no way to erase the past.

There was never anything there to begin with.

This world has been hollow from the very beginning. Nothing, absolutely nothing, holds any value in a world that’s about to vanish from existence. Beautiful, disgusting, noble, crude, lovable, hateful—none of it is worth jack here.

That’s why there’s nothing in this place. It’s empty.

This irredeemable void is the Rejecting Classroom.

I feel like throwing up. I’m standing here breathing, but I want to rid my body of that air and everything else. If I do that, I won’t be here anymore, though. I can’t live without air, but if I inhale the emptiness of this world, I’ll become empty, too. I’ll suck up all the emptiness like some sort of sponge.

Or maybe all this fretting is too late, and I’m already empty.

“What’s the matter, Kazu? Are you sick?”

From my slumped-over position, I slowly lift my head at the familiar voice.

Kokone is standing there with obvious concern.

“You got a bloody nose during PE, right? Maybe that’s what it is. If you’re not feeling well, maybe I should walk you to the nurse’s office.”

“Don’t worry about him, Kiri. It’s not the nosebleed that’s messing with him—it’s the lap pillow he got afterward.”

This comes from Daiya, who’s now suddenly nearby.

“A lap pillow…? Ohhh, I get it now! That’s got to be it! Aw, is somebody feeling a little lovesick?”

Kokone pounds me on the shoulder, a huge grin on her face.

“Well, well! I never thought you’d be so forward, Kazu! Don’t go thinking you’re Don Juan now!”

“I have to admit, I’m kinda surprised such a cheap seduction tactic had that effect on you.”

“N-no, that’s not it! I’ve always—”

I catch myself midsentence.

I was about to make a serious slip of the tongue, in more ways than one. I would have admitted I had feelings for Mogi, and even more important…

“Huh? I could’ve sworn you didn’t think Mogi was anything special before yesterday.”

…it wouldn’t have been true.

Today is when I started liking her. I guess at least to Daiya and the others it probably seems like something that came out of the blue. Oh, I get it… That’s why none of them noticed my love for Mogi despite it being so plain to see.

“C’mon, Daiya. The real news is that the boy has finally admitted he has a crush on Kasumi, hee-hee!”

Kokone gives Daiya a little jab with her elbow as she giggles.

“True. This could keep me entertained for a while.”

“Heh-heh, meddling in other people’s romance is so much fun! Now, don’t you worry there, Kazu. Your big sis here is in your corner! I’ll provide all the advice and assistance you could ever want! I’ll even help cheer you up if she blows you off. But it’ll be annoying if things actually work out between you, so if that happens, I’ll just kill you.”

“Don’t worry. If they end up going out, I’ll steal her away from him.”

“Oooh, fun! Nothing beats a little misery and a sordid love triangle!”

…Those two are really the lowest of the low, kicking me while I’m down like this.

But I’m glad at least Xxxxxxx isn’t here. If he were around, this whole situation would really run out of control once he was on board.

“…Huh?”

“Aw, what is it, Kazu?”

“No, it’s just that I was wondering where that jerk is. Maybe home sick?”

“Who’s ‘that jerk’?” asks Daiya with a puzzled look.

That’s funny. I thought Daiya would know who I’m talking about instantly just by my tone.

“What do you mean ‘who’? The only jerk I’d be talking about is…”

…Um, who?

Whoa, hold on a second. I was just about to say someone’s name, but now I can’t even remember it, much less his or her face.

“…Uh, Kazu? Hello? Who were you talking about?”

I feel ill, with an urge to scrape out my esophagus, as if some thick, viscous slime is stuck in my throat. But it’s a good thing that I feel this way. If I can choke it all down and purge it from my body, then Xxxxxxx will be gone.

“H-hey…Kazu!”

I remember now; it’s okay. I can remember precisely because I feel sick like this.

“…Haruaki.”

That’s the name of my best friend, the one who swore he would stand with me forever.

I have just the faintest glimmer of hope. It’s possible that I’m the only one who’s forgotten Haruaki through some random slip in my memory. But by now I should know how foolish of me it is to even hope for that…

“Hey, Kazu, who’s Haruaki?” Daiya asks, but it’s a meaningless question.

I grit my teeth in frustration. Daiya and Kokone are curiously watching my behavior.

Both of them have no recollection of Haruaki, even though he’s their childhood friend, and they’ve both known him for much longer than I have.

The truth that Haruaki no longer exists here brutally pierces my heart.

“I’m going home.”

The resulting wound is fatal.

I stand up, grab my bag, turn away from Daiya and Kokone, and leave the classroom.

I can’t stand to be there for even a second longer.

Why is Haruaki gone?

I know the answer. I know it all too well. Haruaki was rejected.

By who? I know that, too. The only one who could have rejected Haruaki is the “protagonist” of this little story, the one who brought the Rejecting Classroom into existence.

I was mistaken to think this endless loop was meant to preserve the normalcy of my daily life forever. How stupid. That was never it at all. The mundane is only normal because it continues to flow onward. If you dam a river, it fills with mud and silt until it becomes pitch-black. That’s exactly what this is—a growing reservoir of foul, stagnant water and scum.

Yeah, I see it now. I’m sure I must have stumbled upon this truth many times before. Time and time again, I arrived at this same realization. That’s why I decided to stop viewing Aya Otonashi as an enemy.

Aya Otonashi is trying to destroy the Rejecting Classroom.

Why would I stop her?

The bell rings. I’m sure all my classmates must be here by now. I turn back to scan the room before I leave.

An empty seat. Another one. And another. Another over there. Yeah… I knew some desks would be empty, but it still seems strange that no one is questioning why there are so many.

✵

The truth is that I knew all along. I just didn’t want to admit it, so I blocked that knowledge from my mind.

Aya Otonashi has figured out that it’s impossible to take the Box from me.

Still, putting an end to the Rejecting Classroom would be a simple matter once the one responsible for its creation was identified. Aya went through twenty thousand repetitions even after figuring out I was the culprit, just so she could get the Box.

So what am I going to do now?

I don’t even need to think about it.

The truck sends my limbs flying upon impact. The sight of the right leg I’ve known all my life lying so far away is so ridiculous, I can’t help but laugh.

“Is this how it ends…?”

I’ve been killed. I got myself killed.

“I went through 27,753 repetitions of excruciating idleness, only to have it all end like this—what an utter waste of time. I admit, I’m…I’m exhausted.”

To be completely accurate, I’m not dead yet, but whatever’s left of me in the lump of blood and guts that once formed my body can see the writing on the wall. I’m dying. Well past the point of no return. Aya Otonashi killed me after all.

“Damn…! To think my prize would meet this fate after such a ridiculous amount of time… I’ve never cursed my own incompetence more than now!”

Aya Otonashi looks truly regretful as she mutters to herself.

“…Might as well drop this and try for another Box. There was nothing here. All I can do is look for the next one.”

Her eyes don’t see me. Actually, I’m sure they never once saw me, from the beginning of all this.

From the start up until the bitter end, this girl had eyes only for the Box supposedly hidden inside me.

So will none of this have ever occurred, either? No, I’m sure that’s not the case. If the Box known as the Rejecting Classroom truly is inside me, then it’ll be destroyed when I die, crushed just like my body against the truck.

There will be no more repetitions.

It’s all so ironic. If this was the one and only means of putting an end to the Rejecting Classroom, then I should’ve just set out to die from the get-go. I can’t get over the hollowness of it all. This world must’ve been some sort of purgatory for me.

But our battle is finally at an end.

It may have been completely one-sided, with no surprises or upsets, but it’s over all the same.

Yeah, that’s what you believe, isn’t it, Otonashi?

I’m sorry. I truly am, Otonashi.

It’s all because you ignored me for so long. If it weren’t for that, I might not have made this mistake.

That’s why we spent all this time in vain.

C’mon, Otonashi. It’s so simple once you think about it. There’s no way someone as mediocre as me could be the main character of all this.

I want to tell her, but there’s no way of doing that any longer. I can’t even open my mouth, much less speak.

My consciousness fades, and I drift off into death.

And then—nothing ends at all.

I’m in the place I can never remember once the dream ends.

I’ve received the Box from that person.

“Just relax. Of course, there are some risks involved in this kind of thing, but it’s not what you’re thinking of. You aren’t going to lose something else you value, and it’s not going to steal your life or soul. Actually, the reason anyone ends up with those negative side effects isn’t necessarily an innate characteristic of the object, but rather the nature of the person using it. As long as you use it correctly, all it will do is grant your wish.”

If I use it correctly…

I wonder if that requirement is actually as simple as it sounds. I have no idea. I don’t know about any of that, but I do know this is an exceptional condition, even with all those risks attached. It’s the same as receiving a lottery ticket certain to win. It’s definitely possible that winning a huge sum of money could derail your life. But most people probably wouldn’t consider that to be the risk.

That’s why I ask if there are any people who don’t accept the offer of the Box.

“Why do you ask that?”

Because someone is trying to reject it right now.

“Are you getting cold feet? Maybe you don’t believe me? Or are you afraid of me?”

All those reasons are true, in a way, but that isn’t really what this is about. All it boils down to is that I don’t need it.

My wish is to continue in my average, ordinary life, and I already have that without using the Box.

It’s like how someone with a trillion yen wouldn’t care much about the idea of receiving a hundred million. I know it’s valuable, which is precisely why I can’t accept it from someone I know nothing about.

Yes, I know without a doubt that I returned the Box.

That’s why…

…even if I did wish for days of endless repetition to maintain the normalcy of my life, I am absolutely not the culprit.

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