“There really isn’t any other way to destroy the huge, evil organization than to use your special attack. You can gain victory only if you choose death for yourself because the giant, evil organization actually is made up of our entire world. Because the second you choose death, the world disappears into nothingness, the evil organization, too, disappears into nothingness. Then, peace will come to you. Still, I didn’t blow my own head off with a bomb. That was my choice. No, it definitely isn’t that I just didn’t want to go through the pain of drawing the CG for the game ending or that I got downright tired of making a terrible game. Nothing like that…”

At first, I tried to smash the laptop. Then, I changed my mind. I had watched Yamazaki desperately work on this game, but the final shoddiness of it hit me pretty hard.

What in the world could he be doing right now? This question suddenly began to bother me, but I decided to try and forget it. I hadn’t heard any news from him since he left, and I didn’t feel like contacting him, either.

Those idiotic days from that period in my life had ended long ago.

Christmas came once again. The city lights twinkled.

The guide stick grasped in my right hand, too, lit up in the darkness. Tonight’s work was traffic control in the parking lot of a new department store that had opened near the station. Because the entrances were equipped with fully automated ticket machines, I had absolutely nothing to do. When it got crowded, I tried helping out the machines; but each time, I just ended up swinging my stick back and forth.

There were no accidents, nothing happened, and Christmas Eve marched on in safety.

About an hour before the store closed, a car came by. The car itself was the sort of Japanese model found anywhere, with nothing special to note about it. However, because the interior lights were on, I recognized the girl sitting in the passenger seat. I saw her clearly.

Startled, I tried to push my cap down over my eyes as much as possible. The car passed me without hesitation, so there hadn’t been any recognition. But I felt that my high school acquaintance, sitting in the passenger seat, had looked my way, just for a second.

Of course, that, too, was just a delusion.

My shift ended, and I changed out of my uniform and put the guide stick and helmet into my bag. Swaying back and forth on one of the last trains of the night, I headed toward my apartment. On the way, I stopped by a convenience store to buy alcohol and the like.