Archive of Our Own ^beta

Anthy leaps over a broken fence and keeps her course forward. She cannot stop, she cannot even slow down. Her small size gives her advantage on the mucky, toxic soil, that she can already feel through the soles her almost broken shoes. She passes piles of junk, climbs over fallen structures that the time and the corrosive rain had long ago rendered unrecognizable. She is exhausted, but she must keep going. Those who are chasing her might be close, and that would lead to a fate worse than death.

Anthy runs, she runs across the broken concrete, she climbs over a high pile of something that resembles vehicles, she wipes sweat and dust from her face and keeps moving. She crosses the same pile of broken containers she already had a moment ago, she is moving in a circle, and she knows that. A circle, eternity.

For a few seconds, she dares to stop, to listen if she can hear the greedy voices of her chasers. She does not.

Instead, she feels a pain that resembles thousands of tiny swords through her body, from above. It has started to rain, and the rain is acid, she is suddenly in another great danger. The large drops burn her hair and her exposed skin through the ripped clothing – she needs to get away.

Desperately, Anthy dashes towards something that resembles an entrance, and it leads to something that might have been a large underground industrial faculty. There is only a small hole in the middle of the collapsed construction, but Anthy manages to get herself through.

Finally. She is alone. It’s dark and quiet, even the sound of rats cannot be heard. Anthy spends a moment listening to her own breathing and wiping her arms that have some itching burn marks. But mostly she is okay, she is temporarily safe, and now she can keep doing… what she was doing in the first place?

Anthy decides to go forward, to examine her surroundings. The place seems huge, but the size is hard to estimate in the darkness. It is also surprisingly empty, probably anything even vaguely useful has already been looted eons ago.

Still, Anthy is nervous. She certainly should be doing something, seeking something, not only hiding but also… but what?

A light source catches her attention. Anthy moves towards it. It’s not from this room, but from somewhere else. Anthy accelerates her steps until she is at the end of an absurdly long corridor. But the other end of it is clearly at least dimly lit – perhaps there is a hole on the ceiling. Anthy starts moving towards it. The length of the corridor must exceed at least a hundred meters.

Then, Anthy sees something that makes her heart drop. She forgets her exhaust, forgets everything else – there is a human figure on the floor! And not whoever, but someone specific, someone painfully specific. As Anthy moves closer, the realization hits her. It’s a girl, a slender and pretty girl with wonderfully pink hair, lying in a position that signifies something being gravely wrong.

Anthy tries to accelerate, but the distance seems only increasing. The girl lays on her side, facing the other direction, and there is a small puddle of something dark under her. Blood, certainly blood. Anthy is in a hurry, she runs as long as she can, but the distance feels like kilometers. The girl does not move, it might already be too late – no, it cannot be! Anthy will make it!

The pink-haired girl does not move but her mere presence radiates something pivotal. Anthy should realize it, the feelings and memories are all around her, but still she is unable to grasp them. Who is the girl, and why can Anthy feel her so closely?

After having been running a time that felt like eternity, Anthy is finally within the girl. With shaking hands, she grabs her by shoulders, to see her, to see her face and her injuries. A large wound in her middle body catches Anthy’s attention first. As if her side was pierced with a sharp weapon – horrible. Is she still alive? She must be, she seems to be moving her lips.

Something hits Anthy’s reality. Simultaneously, she notices two things that seize the moment.

First, the injured person in her arms is actually not a girl. It’s a slender boy with long, pink hair and pale skin.

Second, there is something in Anthy’s hand. She can feel its weight. It is a long, sharp knife. Its blade is covered in blood, that stains her fingers that still hold it tightly. As if she had never let go of it.

Anthy screams.

Eventually, nothing is unusual. Her brother is enquiring about the reason for her sudden reaction, and for a moment, Anthy needs to orient herself in time and place again. Place, on a satin-covered sofa, in a large room that signifies temporary wealth. Temporary, as everything else is temporary.

“Anthy, is something wrong?” Akio asks again.

Is something wrong? No, she was dreaming, as she is always dreaming, vivid images that can easily be confused with reality. Reality, yes, is something wrong there? Is there something unusual, no, and if the usual is considered right, nothing can be wrong. Nothing can ever be wrong.

Anthy sets an established smile on her face.

“Everything is all right. I just had a nightmare.”

“In the middle of a day?”

“I was apparently tired and fell asleep for a while. Now, excuse me, I need to check something in a garden.”

There are all kinds of varieties of roses, and Anthy has as little to check as she has had for decades. Or how long had they inhabited the current mansion? Perhaps the time is shorter, a few years or something like that.

To be precise, it’s not so dull. Anthy does prefer the role of Anthy-the-student to the Anthy-the-housewife, but the periods of the former are limited. The cycles go on. Anthy waters the plants, pulls all the weeds studiously out, moves from one frame to another, and another, and another. At times, either of the siblings have no specific vision about the reasonableness of their current actions, and they might end up spending long periods of time in idleness.

Anthy is a student. In this round, they are both students. Anthy attends classes, makes friends, listens to their concerns and secrets, shares her presence with them, becomes a fleeting moment in their innocent lives. Akio ties them around his fingers, spreads influence, passion, jealousy, suspicion. The wavering network of relationships between people comes and goes. Nothing happens. In the end, nothing happens, as it never does.

Anthy watches the generations of faces going by, forming an intangible flow. Hundreds of pairs of eyes looking at her direction, not a single one seeing a person behind her established mask.

Anthy knows she is carrying the power to shake the world but without an appropriate user interface, everything is just fruitless. She sets herself to the lives of people, smiles at them, occasionally betrays them with something that nevertheless never leads to anything.

*

For a longer period of time, still unnamed because Anthy has long since stopped using the mundane tracking system, they have been located in the place called Ohtori academy. The place is magnificent. Grand, majestic white buildings on the top of a hill, standing like colossal sculptures. The grandeur of the academy is almost a ripple in spacetime, and the metaphor is not completely wrong.

And in these classrooms and corridors, Anthy cannot help but have a feeling. Only a lingering feeling that is constantly present when she is with these other people. Could there be someone to wait for? Someone specific? Someone who is not just another figure in the background, but someone specifically for her?

They are building. They are building but they are failing. Anthy does diligently set up the wires, performs hours and hours of tedious tasks, clarifies all the networks of connections, understanding everything is mere makeshift work. Akio is skilled and charismatic, he can talk himself easily to anyone’s bedroom, he can use people’s weaknesses against them, but he is not a scientist. He doesn’t even understand what he is trying to do. Despite all the machinery, the promised tremendous powers are never any closer.

Anthy tinkers with the machines with her small fingers that have long since been much more suitable for the work, but she lacks the intention to gain anything. She presses buttons, waters the flowers, smiles at the classmates, connects wires, waits, tinkers, listens, waits, waits, waits. Soon everything will be ready, soon, whispers Akio softly to her ear, caressing her body. Soon it will be. Anthy sleeps and almost sees a specific person but no, there is no one even in her memories when she opens her eyes.

The cycle repeats. Spring arrives. Anthy wakes up screaming again, but only little. Summer. Autumn. And everything changes.

Akio is aiming to be a chairman. Right now, he is an independent consultant, providing his services to the school. Anthy is a student. So, she has a chance to see close what happens.

Timestamps, unrecognizable, once again. Nevertheless, Akio gets his chance. They get their chance. The entire picture is shaken by a person who is extraordinary, exceptional. Whose peculiar intelligence is complemented with profound fragility. Who was already prepared, produced by the world as an anomaly, incompatible. Like a flower to pick by Akio’s awaiting hands from the toxic soil.

It doesn’t take long until that person is in the position of a professor, right in the heart of Ohtori.

Anthy had read about him before she actually met him, and thought how she was probably already recognizing the pattern. She was perhaps recognizing also something else, but she couldn’t locate that feeling.

Nemuro Souji. Eighteen years old. PhD in physics. Celebrated as a prodigy, one of the youngest doctorates in the country, already a year or two ago. From the black and white picture in a newspaper, a scrawny boy with medium-long hair and a hollow gaze is looking at her. No, not looking at her or the camera, those eyes are empty, as if there was no one behind them. The quality of the photograph is low so there are no other features to recognize. Perhaps the figure in the picture is not human at all. Perhaps he was something else in a vaguely humanlike form. Anthy was almost about to feel the smallest hint of relatedness.

After having attended a meeting where the new professor was present, Anthy was still not able to make a more coherent judgement. There was no doubt about Nemuro’s intelligence, he spoke long and formal, grammatically flawless sentences and kept reciting numerical values without relying on memos. Without hesitating, without even blinking, he promised to accomplish even the most complex tasks, whose mere initial descriptions were beyond Anthy’s understanding. Nevertheless, his voice was monotonous, and his posture remained static, it was still difficult to judge whether the person on the other side of the table was a man or a machine.

Which made Anthy almost completely ignore that uncomfortable feeling that Anthy had first felt in his mere presence. That there was something vaguely familiar in him.

*

“We need to have him.”

The level of determination in Akio’s voice is unusual. Anthy can sense that he is serious, even his eyes are burning.

Anthy takes a sip from her cup, and places it back to the table. Her role is now, at first, to stay silent for a while and listen to the speech.

“This is our chance, this is the moment when we can change the world, Anthy.”

Now, it’s ‘how’, or’ why’. Think carefully.

Anthy takes a deep breath.

“But how?”

“He is a genius, as you know, Anthy”, Akio says. “He is brilliant, he is extraordinary, he is certainly one of a kind.”

Akio stacks biscuits in his plate but leaves the last one between his fingers.

“But as you already can see, Anthy”, he continues, looking directly at her eyes. “He is almost ridiculously fragile.”

Anthy is not sure if that is the right word. Yet, she cannot help but feel something like understanding.

“He might look like a human being, but as he is also very much aware himself, he is actually nothing but a machine.”

Anthy stays silent.

“So, all we need to do is push some buttons. Pull levers. Switch some wirings. The usual. The easy.”

Anthy doesn’t like the tone of the conversation, but she cannot say there was something particularly new.

“People who they call geniuses, the exceptionally ‘intelligent’ people, they tend to be like that. They might shine on some narrow tasks, but inside they are empty. Soulless. Unable to do anything but their thing with their own languages. They lack everything that is actually important in life. Person. Charisma. Character. Often, they are not even able to form a basic human connection. More than us humans, they resemble computers. Perform complex narrow tasks effectively. Are programmable. And that is what-“

Now Akio leans towards her, over the table.

“-makes it so easy to take him, to deploy him as our machine.”

Akio snaps the biscuit in half and throws the pieces in his mouth.

“We ahe abfolutely going fo have him”, he repeats, still munching.

Anthy thinks briefly about presenting a disagreement, but there is nothing actual to say, and she wouldn’t bother lying. Carefully, she takes a bite of a biscuit as well.

Later, Akio whispers those same words in her ear, while caressing her cheek significantly gently, as her head rests against his chest. Soon they can have everything.

The only thing that seems to be remaining is some buttons and levers.

*

Mamiya Chida is already dead when Anthy looks at his melancholic eyes. The boy is talking with her, even smiling faintly, but his entire presence radiates that he is already gone.

Anthy hates when he needs to play with life and death, and he hates as well when Akio does that, but she is certain that with Mamiya Chida, Akio doesn’t have to even lift a finger. A terminal illness will swiftly take the boy away before Akio will even look at his direction.

Mamiya could certainly be a lot if he was ever let to grow up. The boy is sixteen, looks barely fourteen, and will be away before his seventeenth birthday. The illness that has drained his body has left his mind untouched. He talks about such topics and concepts that it is sure he has either never spent properly time with his peers or then was alienated from them from the beginning. He has not been healthy enough for attending school for years, so apparently, he spends almost all his time with his sister.

The sister, Tokiko. She is remarkably kind and polite, but it’s clear how constant stress and concern burden her. She serves rosebud tea as Akio and Anthy are visiting them, and for a while, Anthy has uncomfortable but unavoidable mental pictures. There they are, brother and sister, sister and brother. The team of two, together hiding from the world. Are all the brother-and-sister-pairs alike? Is it always the entire enormous cycle of love, and compassion, and sacrifice, and passion, and possessiveness, and system, and-

Anthy’s trail of thought is interrupted when she notices the gaze that Tokiko lays on Akio, even if it lasts barely a second. She needs to remind herself that Tokiko is close to Akio’s age, or at least humanform-Akio’s age. No that such things had ever played any role for her brother. Nevertheless, Anthy has watched these games for so long that even that brief gaze can tell her how Tokiko is already gone.

*

“The power to revolutionize the world”.

Akio’s hand lies on her chest, right above her breasts. Anthy closes her eyes and tries once again to connect the loose pictures, but it’s unsuccessful.

“The power”, she repeats, faintly, and places her own, much smaller hand on the top of her brother’s.

They are laying on a mattress and in the middle of a construction site. The new world is being built around them, and Anthy keeps repeating to herself that it’s completely beyond her understanding. The body of the machinery is already detectable, and it resembles nothing Anthy has seen before.

“He is marvelous, isn’t he?”, Akio says, pleased. “Brilliant. Genius. In his own level. Aren’t you also amazed, Anthy?”

She does not answer.

She has nothing to do with anything, she for some reason says to herself, while silently dwelling in the faint glimpse of something that is not even hope. A person-shaped hole, but that person is no one. At least not after this.

Nothing to do, Anthy repeats.

She does not even participate. She avoids the construction workers, who form an odd, somehow inhuman swarm that still feels too close when they are inside their residence. All of them are young, all of them are males, and they work with efficiency, as well as lay gazes to her. Certain, too common gazes.

“He is brilliant”, Akio repeats every night, or something similar to that.

The constructions are growing in size. Anthy performs the usual. Time is already extended. Anthy has a chance to discuss with Mamiya Chida again, and everything in the boy is reversed further into illness. Yet, the little he talks, he talks about Nemuro-senpai in an utterly peculiar way. Anthy is afraid of recognizing a pattern, again.

“He is brilliant”, Akio whispers once again to her ear, “and he is ours.”

Anthy reminds herself how she hasn’t seen professor Nemuro in campus for a long time.

Mamiya mentions the concept of “eternity”. It’s by definition unattainable. The logical paradoxes concerning the concept are something he had discussed with Nemuro, he tells.

“I know the project is impossible”, Mamiya sighs. “And I think he does agree with me.”

“The eternity is already ours”, Akio says.

*

Four boys are blocking her way. They are much taller than Anthy and look at her like she was an unwelcomed vermin.

“I am to discuss with professor Nemuro. Could you please give way to me?”

Anthy sets her voice to the established level of please and appeal. The reactions are still hesitant.

“Outsiders aren’t supposed to meet with the professor”, one of them says. “You can say your message to us”.

Anthy keeps her polite smile.

“I was particularly asked to deliver my message in person.”

The boys give her long, judging gazes.

“Well, who is supposed to be that who sent you?” one of them asks, his voice full of disrespect.

There isn’t the slightest change in Anthy’s expression.

“It is The End of The World.”

Now the boys are looking at each other and sharing sharp comments. Finally, one of them invites, with dissatisfied voice, Anthy to come in.

It’s not that Anthy hasn’t been here before. Nevertheless, sometimes it’s better to arrive by regular means. Moreover, she didn’t drop a single lie. A message by her brother is inside her pocket – she hasn’t read it herself and confirms herself how she is not aware of the contents.

Every single boy turns his gaze to Anthy as she walks by. There are at least a couple of dozens of them already in the hallway. The total number of research assistants is one hundred, and Anthy wonders if they are all present on the same floor of the building today.

She arrives at a large room that resembles a classroom. A large group of boys are gathered there. It’s so crowded that Anthy has difficulties moving. Instead of politely stepping aside, they are just staring at her, and Anthy needs almost to crawl between them. She is sure she can hear a whistle from somewhere. Perhaps two. It causes no reaction in her.

The purple color of Nemuro’s coat makes him stand out in the crowd. He is sitting at a desk and writing or drawing something complicated on a large sheet of paper. A circle of boys is surrounding him and watching closely. For a moment, Anthy doesn’t say a word, doesn’t announce her presence.

Nemuro’s entire appearance seems tense, again. His hand is moving swiftly on the paper, and there is even something hasty in that movement. Anthy cannot see her eyes behind the tinted lenses, but his gaze seems to be directed on the paper. She realizes how one of the boys lays his hand on his shoulder, so casually that the gesture is almost familiar.

“Professor Nemuro”, Anthy finally announces. At least a dozen pairs of eyes turn to her. “I have a message for you”.

Finally, the professor himself raises his head. He does it slowly. Anthy meets his gaze, but does not actually do, because he is staring past her.

“What it is”, he says in a dry voice.

Anthy notices how one of the boys takes the pen off from his hand, that has frozen in the middle of the movement. That is a very strange gesture, Anthy points out. It’s even stranger how his hand stays in that position, as if he was holding an imaginary pen, still writing.

Anthy keeps her expression friendly, even if he can feel the stare of a mass of eyes.

“The End of The World asked me to give this to you. He also emphasized how the section 2.C. is now top priority and you really should keep that in mind.”

Anthy hands the letter to Nemuro, who takes it in his gloved hand.

“Right. Did he have something else to say?”

“No”, Anthy answers truthfully. “Now you just need to keep doing your work, which is going well, I’d say. You were the right choice to be the one to implement this.”

Anthy is not sure why she added the last part. But it was just natural. Nemuro stares at her for a long time, but there is no significant expression on his face. Anthy wonders, what is the real color of his eyes. Then he’s back to work.

*

“Excellent. Good work. I’m impressed.”

Akio makes positive statements while walking around the almost-finished machine. Trailing his hand on the top of buttons, sweeping the metal panels.

“Only a genius could make use of those theories together and construct something like this.”

He even brings a long lever gently to his lips, as if he was touching the hand of a lover.

“So sweet. The eternity is soon ours.”

Anthy is again silent, as well as three worker-boys, that are still present.

“But-“ Akio says and turns to them. His smile widens, as he takes a firm grip on the lever, and pulls it from its roots. Something cracks inside.

“it’s useless!” Akio announces and throws the loose part aside.

The boys beside Anthy are startled. Anthy is not seeing anything unforeseen.

“Did I… specifically mentioned how… the configuration of the Probability Engine… cannot hold… if the capacity…”

Between his words, Akio tears more parts, pulls bundles of cables off, kicks the glass panels broken. The diligently arranged circuit systems of the Core turn into bunch of scrap metal and plastic under his hardened fists.

The boys are now totally frightened, one of them has already covered his head with his arms. Akio turns his gaze back to them.

“No, don’t be ashamed! It’s not your fault, you are just following his orders. Mere cogs in the machine, one could say”, Akio reassures. “A failure of a project is always, always the project leader’s fault. Remember this.”

Akio gives one last kick to the Core, and it falls on the ground with an enormous thud. Then, he sits on the broken object, casually as if it was a bench and looks once again at the boys, who are now seemingly relieved.

“As I said, the one who has failed is the professor. He should know about the power capacity issue, and yet he proceeded to apply such configuration that was faulty. He has done all the calculations, but it seems that his calculations are wrong. This is actually a rather simple issue, but with wrong numbers, the entire setting will be wrong.”

“So, shall we-“ one of the boys starts.

“You are free to go, after you had helped me a bit to clear the junk”, Akio says and smiles. “And you may then tell your professor how either his calculation skills or basic logical understanding are amiss.”

Anthy hopes she had more understanding about mathematics, even though she does know that it’s not what is required.

*

Anthy stands in a large, open area that is located in a physically impossible location. A massive tower like this is a literal ripple in spacetime, a ripple in her experience about it, she still cannot understand it, but she keeps enabling it.

She is an architect of illusions, and illusions are mere weaknesses and fragility of the human mind, as his brother keeps reminding. Anthy stands on a stage and pictures a floating structure in the sky above her. A dream-world. What else does she have?

At night, after Akio had destroyed the Main Engine for a second time, with similar nitpicky notions than the first time, he is gentler with her than for a long, long time. Almost chivalry.

Anthy is under stars, under floating structures, in darkness, and knows how nothing in this can be explained in precise equations.

Mamiya would perhaps agree with her, but the boy does not know what she truly is, a mere witch.

Anthy hasn’t seen Mamiya for a long time. Perhaps his time has already come to an end. Tokiko has been standing outside the Hall a couple of times but deliberately looked away when she saw Anthy.

Once (or was it twice? Thrice?) Anthy saw her late at night, walking towards the tower that was now their home, and going in after carefully looking around her, as if she was going to do something forbidden.

“The machine will soon be completed”, Akio said to Anthy at one of those nights. He had walked out of the bedroom, butt-naked, hair untied, but still with such posture and attitude that he knows that he owns the world. He poured himself a drink and leaned onto the counter, smiling at Anthy.

“Our perfect machine”, he said and took a sip.

Anthy runs her hand through the swarm of cables. Their ends are still open, waiting for appropriate connectors to be attached.

The boys in the Hall are not any less rude than the last time. She finds Nemuro in a lab, his pink hair tied back, and protective goggles and mask on his face. In the middle of all the masked boys, Anthy is for a brief moment concerned about her own exposure to hazardous chemicals but soon understands that she is the one who is on the causing side.

When Nemuro puts his goggles on his forehead, Anthy can see how his eyes are red. Not only is the natural color of his irises dark crimson, but his eyes are bloodshot, and there are visible bags under them. To be honest, his appearance is rather terrible.

Still, after the usual lines Anthy diligently performs, she dares to add extra requests, just out of…

Indeed, out of what? Concern? Curiosity? Some childish… what? Hope?

Nemuro puts his mask and goggles back and the boys surround him again. Outside, Anthy spends a few unusual minutes coughing clumps of blood, as if she had just been inhaling something severely toxic. However, there is nothing that a body that has already survived from being pierced by metal million times could not endure. After a moment, Anthy wipes her face and walks back towards the campus, in perfect health, feeling as sound as always.

*

“So, in order to apply the chain rule for composite function, you first need to identify the applied function. After that, you apply the basic derivative rules. Do you need an example?”

“Um, yes please, could you give one?”

Nemuro turns back to the chalkboard. Anthy is diligently copying all the formulas to her notebook. She can feel that she is learning. She has never been properly interested in math, for years she has been deliberately skipping whole courses. There has been no harm in that, if one is nevertheless never going to graduate.

All the rest of Nemuro’s few teaching duties have ended already a while ago, as he is solely focusing on the project. So Anthy knows how it’s probably inappropriate to ask private tutoring from him, instead of from one of those ordinary teachers. But Anthy can do anything (can she?) And Nemuro did not even refuse.

“I know it must be-“, Anthy begins, after having scribed the last symbols of the example on her notebook, “a bit frustrating for a genius like you to have to deal with this kind of basic high school math.”

Nemuro looks at her but doesn’t say anything.

“So, I’m glad you had time to help me.”

“Understanding the principles of derivative is the necessary part to be able to apply differential calculus. Which is required to be able to study the rates of change of quantities.”

Anthy studies the young man in front of her. She would like to reach an emotion, a personality, anything, but everything seems to be under the layers and layers of long since adopted and embodied dry frame of mechanical rationality. Anthy recalls her brother’s words in her mind.

“…and as in differential equations, that you probably are already familiar with…”

Anthy considers the option that this was a stupid idea. What was she thinking about? What could she gain by sitting here, listening to a tedious speech which nevertheless goes half beyond her understanding? As an image of Mamiya returns to her mind, everything the boy has said about Nemuro sounds just even more unconvincing.

However, this is the first time Anthy is alone with the professor. She thinks about Akio again. She nevertheless has nothing to lose.

“Professor Nemuro, may I ask you something? Do you believe that your project will succeed?”

Something changes in his appearance, maybe. Or then Anthy just imagines.

“Science is not a matter of belief”, he answers.

“I know. Still. Could you tell what you are thinking?”

Nemuro looks at her, perhaps squints his eyes a bit. It’s hard to see because of the tinted lenses.

“Could you take those off? It’s difficult to talk with you when I can’t see your face properly.”

Nemuro puts the glasses in his pocket but reminds her how the act of talking is not dependent on person’s eyes, so Anthy’s notion is illogical.

“How is the work going with the research assistants?”

“Fine.”

As dry as always. Perhaps a bit too dry.

“Have you been able to overcome the two failures?”

Nemuro is silent for a while.

“The failures were due to imprecise information. Or rather, either unintentional or deliberate changes in the details of the requirements. There was never fault in the calculation produced by me, the system was constructed to sustain exactly those amounts of power that were in the initial blueprint. It was beyond my control that the values were drastically changed along the way.”

It’s Anthy’s turn to be silent. I know, she does not say.

“I am fully capable of fulfilling the task I was assigned to, unless the changing requirements make it impossible by definition.”

Push more. Or pull. Or both.

“Does the role of the inspector have anything to do with this?”

Anthy witnesses Nemuro rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath – such humanlike gestures seem almost odd.

“I have… I have not been able to figure out what her role actually is. She appears to be helping, but occasionally she might provide a new set of requirements, that can once again deviate from the two previous ones.”

Anthy lets an image of Tokiko and her brother in their apartment (Akio smiling so widely that he seemed to be drunk or something) come and go. Tokiko was also smiling. Was she? Even through her constant tragedy of a slow but certain loss of a loved one.

Nemuro has put the chalk aside and now just stares at her, as if he was awaiting new orders.

“He is so intelligent”, said Mamiya. “True genius. But also, I’m fascinated by the way his mind works. He can see the connections that others cannot. My mind was almost blown when I learned that certain theories can be applied in that way.”

Anthy tries to find an expression on Nemuro’s face.

“He sees me as I am. Even though he is a genius, he treats me as his equal. He is genuinely interested in my thoughts, not just my illness or something like that. I hate how Tokiko keeps treating me like a little boy. It’s not my fault I never can grow taller.“

Anthy opens her mouth to ask the next question.

“No, I don’t think he is just a computer. Or what do they even mean by that? I like computers, anyway”

“There are paradoxes related to the concept of eternity. He taught me these but I don’t remember properly. You should ask him yourself. Aren’t you student of his or something? Or at least in the same school. I’m jealous.”

“How is Mamiya doing?”

Nemuro puts a hand on his face and takes several deep breaths. Through his fingers, he finally answers.

“His illness is still progressing.”

*

“Do you know what, Anthy? We can soon celebrate the completion of the project.”

Anthy asks if her brother really means that or is he just going to destroy everything as unsatisfactory for a third time. Akio just provides a gentle laugh.

What will be gained when everything is complete? Once again Anthy touches the loose wires, as if she could find the answer just with her fingers.

“Do you know what else is a significant weakness of these so-called geniuses? The fragility of their mind. They want to keep everything in control of their superior intelligence, their superior intellectual relationship with the world. They fear nothing as much as-“

For increasing the dramatic effect, Akio leans towards her, puts his cheek against hers, and whispers the last words to her ear.

“losing their sanity.”

The winter should come but the autumn leaves keep sticking to the trees. Anthy applies her increased knowledge of the derivative in the math lessons. It’s still in vain, she feels.

Anthy watches the stars. There are suddenly many more of them. As if there were a new lens between her and the night sky.

“We have beauty, character, charm, charisma, capability to love, to feel, to experience the world in its richness. Imagine someone poor thing having just his so-called brilliant rational mind.”

Akio smiles. Nowadays, he always smiles.

Anthy hasn’t seen professor Nemuro in person after the tutoring session, until one night she sees him coming back from their apartment. Walking past her in the corridor that leads to the elevator, not even looking at her. His coat on his arm, and his glasses off again.

After passing him, Anthy cannot help but make just a brief glance backwards. Nemuro is facing the wall, leaning towards it with, clutching his chest with his hand. Gasping heavily, barely able to keep standing. His whole body is trembling.

Anthy watches. She turns around.

When she turns back, Nemuro is walking normally, slowly but normally, away from her.

Nothing is unusual in the apartment that night. Akio is smiling.

*

“Corvettes are the pinnacle of car design. Think about how much power there is under these elegant metal shapes. And look at this interior. The shape of the wheel. The details of the dashboard. This is not only speed, this is elegancy. Beauty. Charisma. Listen to the sound of the V8, Anthy. This is freedom, isn’t this, Anthy?”

Anthy cannot deny that the wind that blows her hair feels something like freedom. In the speed that has long since exceeded the limits, the landscape is only straight lines, and the roar of the engine covers everything. Yet, she can hear Akio’s every word inside her head as clearly as he was there inside.

“Just imagine, how fantastic it is. The mighty sun provides its limitless nuclear energy to our little planet. Makes plants and all kinds of creatures come alive and flourish. For millions of years.”

Anthy leans backwards. There are no stars in the sky tonight, both above and under them is mere blackness.

“But it’s just the beginning. What is actually fantastic, Anthy, is how these creatures die. In the eternal natural cycle of life and death, they die and decompose. Become one with the earth, become a spark of power of life hidden beneath us. Millions and millions of years pass, and they stay there.”

Akio speeds up. The sound of the engine grows more intense.

“Unless there comes a superior being. One who can understand this value. One who can understand that sacrifice and make it for use.”

Akio turns to Anthy, who doesn’t even mind that it would be more responsible to keep a gaze on the road.

“Those millions of years and millions of fossilized lifeforms, Anthy. They manifest to us as real, clean, power of nature. We drill them up from the depths, bring them to our advanced petroleum refineries, and finally the power of nature flows through an internal combustion engine as a man hits the gas.”

He leans closer to her.

“Do you feel the power, Anthy. Do you feel the cycle? The sacrifice? The energy? Do you want to try? You do want to try, don’t lie to me.”

After a brief stop, Anthy sits behind the wheel. She hits the gas; she feels the power of the V8-engine. She speeds up, keeping her gaze solely on the road. Still, she can feel the gaze Akio has laid on her. It signifies genuine pride.

On the next day, Anthy cannot see professor Nemuro anywhere, and the boys are even more hesitant to give answers. She squeezes the envelope in her hand annoyed and is ready to give up, until she realizes to go downstairs.

Again, too large group of boys are gathered in one room. It’s a place Anthy hasn’t seen before. The massive machinery on the wall and partly on the ceiling resembles both hospital and a complex production plant. The professor is nowhere to be seen.

“Excuse me”, Anthy starts. “Where can I find professor Nemuro? I have another message for him.”

“The professor is not available right now”, one of them finally answers.

Anthy decides still to walk closer to them, because they seem to be gathered around something.

“Can I…”

“No, you can’t”, another one interrupts.

Anthy manages to catch a glimpse of the of a pink-haired figure laying on his back on some surface. For some reason, the boys don’t resist when she physically pushes some of them aside to see better.

“Don’t touch anywhere”, someone says right behind her back.

Nemuro is lying on the surface, seemingly unconscious, something that resembles an oxygen mask on his face. A tube connects it to the background machinery. There are also several other tubes or wires, attached to his thin, bare upper body.

It takes Anthy a moment to be able to form a first question.

“What are you doing to him?”

“The professor volunteered”, answers a tall boy that stands behind her.

“What do you mean?”

“He did. We are in a phase where a certain kind of experiments are needed and it’s only natural that the one in response of the whole is also the one in response of a successful execution of the experiments.”

“This is how it needs to be done”, adds another boy.

“I’m not sure if I believe you”, Anthy admits.

“We don’t care.”

Anthy looks at unconscious Nemuro once again, even if the boys are starting to gather in front of him again. The mask is attached tightly on his expressionless face, and Anthy cannot understand anything. There are monitors displaying numbers or figures or both, but they are also beyond her understanding. They are. They must be.

Anthy leaves the envelope on a desk close to the door.

*

“Please, can you tell Nemuro-senpai that I have found a solution to the equation. The one that he left for me. At least I think so. I applied a different method, so I don’t know if it’s valid. But please, tell him. I haven’t seen him for a while. I miss him.”

Mamiya said that to her, in a faint voice, from his bed, the third time Anthy met him.

It was the last thing Mamiya Chida ever said to her.

Akio hums as satisfied as always. It’s complete soon, he tells. The machine has still some open panels, and there are loose wires, but the main job seems to be done. It’s mainly software development from this on.

Does Akio know, Anthy ponders, watching her brother joyously dancing around the living room. He must, he must have seen Tokiko, who was standing on the outside, her face completely behind a black veil.

Moreover, does Nemuro-

Nemuro sits outside of the hall, which is unusual. He sits there early in the morning when Anty goes to lecture and remains there late in the evening.

Anthy walks to him. It appears that he hasn’t moved an inch. He looks somewhere far away.

Nemuro seems to barely notice her. Anthy waves her hand in front of his face, but he doesn’t react. Still, Anthy can see his gaze, his eyes are not behind the lenses this time. It’s a hollow gaze, as it always it, but there is still something behind it. But Anthy cannot grasp it. For a tenth of a second, devastatingly horrible pictures cross her mind, but then, nothing.

“Nemuro”, Anthy begins.

She sits next to him. His posture is oddly tense, but still somehow brittle. Anthy is fully aware how just a mere touch could crumble him down.

“Are you… I mean… I…”

But there are no words. Anthy doesn’t know what to say. She realizes she has nothing. She is empty.

Nemuro opens his mouth, as if to say something, but keeps quiet. He does it once again.

“Um… do you…”

“The equation is by definition insoluble. The system is incomplete, collapses into infinitesimals. Machines lack purpose. What is left is death by void of meaning.”

Anthy cannot say a word. She watches how Nemuro finally moves. Slowly, he removes his gloves, first left one, then the right one. He folds them and puts them into his pocket, takes a long, unstable breath and closes his eyes.

*

The last colours of the sunset are dancing on the surface of the machine, that is now practically complete. The entire research group is having a big celebration in the hall, as far as Anthy knows. There will be a lot of fine-tuning left, but the place is no longer a construction site. The metal panels and pipes are shining, as well as the round figure of the Core.

Anthy hands the glass bulbs one by one to his brother, who attaches them to their place, mostly as just a decorative element. She cannot help but think about Nemuro’s words.

Just one bulb left. She hands it to Akio, but the moment it is in his grip, it falls on the ground. The shattering noise is loud; the shards are spreading everywhere. Akio’s hand is frozen in the air, as if he was still holding the item. His face is frozen as well. And it’s an expression that Anthy hasn’t seen for a long, long time. It’s pure surprise, disbelief and anger. Akio is shocked.

The color of Akio’s appalled face changes. Because everything changes. Bright colors have filled the landscape beyond the window, coloring everything flaming orange. As if the sun had risen again and fallen in the middle of the campus.

“No, no…” he finally starts to utter, and anger grows in every word.

Akio runs towards the door, without looking back.

“The bastard, the fucking bastard”, he mumbles.

Anthy observes, without yet saying anything.

“I did not authorize that, I did not fucking authorize THAT!”

Akio yells in anger as he disappears outside.

Finally, Anthy turns her gaze and allows herself to look outside. The enormous, bright flames are coloring the landscape. The building that was known as the Nemuro Hall is on fire.

*

Anthy makes her way past curious spectators as she dashes after her brother. The heat is intense even though she is still dozens of meters from the blazing building.

A female figure sitting on the ground makes her stop.

The expression on the face of Tokiko Chida signifies a permanent loss that is soon double. She is disbelieving, desperate.

“Wh-where is professor Nemuro? Where is he? Is he still inside?”

Anthy is tired of lying and pretending.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Only then does Tokiko seem to realize who she is. Her expression changes, but only a bit.

“Where is your brother. Where is Akio?”

There is nothing to do, there is nothing to save. Everything is gone. First sweet, innocent Mamiya, then the man they called a genius, and then-

“Please, miss Tokiko. Listen to me.”

No, Anthy realizes that she can still do something, even if it was so little. Tokiko looks at her, tears running down her face.

“You need to listen to me now, miss Tokiko. Akio, my brother, he is… I mean rather, he is not what you…”

Anthy lets the words flow, as briefly as she can, still putting all her emotion into it. She holds Tokiko’s hand between hers, feeling the stream of tears also on her own face.

“Leave this place, please!” Anthy cries at last. “Forget him, forget everything! Leave Ohtori. There is nothing for you anymore. Please, go. Please. Please.”

Has Anthy done something? Can she be a savior? What does it mean to be a “savior”, does such a role even exist?

Anthy sits on the sofa, back in the empty apartment. No, it doesn’t, she decides.

A door almost falls off its hinges as Akio finally storms into the room.

“Prepare the central operation room! The secondary engine room, I mean! NOW!” he yells.

His clothes are dirty, even torn here and there. And he is carrying the body of professor Nemuro in his arms. He is covered in dirt and ash, his clothes are torn, the skin underneath red and injured. His eyes in his ash-colored face are closed, is he even alive? He, or what is left of him, is small, so small in comparison to his brother.

“NOWWWW!”

Anthy rushes to downstairs, to the room almost never used, turns on the light and power, and barely manages to move some loose tools from the table/bed before Akio lays Nemuro there. In rush, but carefully.

“I must fetch something”, her brother says. “You. Do not let him die. Understood? Do not let him die!”

Akio squeezes her wrists when saying that, applying just enough pressure to not break it. But then he is gone.

Anthy turns to Nemuro. Briefly, before putting an oxygen mask on his face, he lets her fingers touch his cheek. And it’s as if he was opening his mouth, trying to say something. As if.

A few more necessary attachments, and Anthy can finally let herself breathe. She takes a step back and looks at the young man in front of him, the figure he has finally become. Something in that body is still alive, at least thanks to the unique equipment they have. Literally attached to a machine. Anthy shakes some thoughts and images off from her head.

Do not let him die.

Anthy takes his hand to hers and squeezes.

What have you done?

What have we done?

His pink hair is now almost white, thanks to dust and ash, and Anthy forces a realization to come through. This hollow, broken figure cannot be anyone who she has ever been waiting for, he never was, he will never be. Not in her dreams, in her memories.

You are alone, Anthy whispers in her mind as she touches his cheek again. Her touch is acid. Her touch has always been a source of corrosion. The cause of the rain. Anthy brings her face closer to his.

Do not let him die.

You are still needed in the system, Anthy thinks, touching the wires attached to bands around his wrists. And I must ensure that you stay.

Do not let him die.

Anthy walks slowly back upstairs. To her small room and closes the door.

Do not let him die.

“This is the only way we have left”, she says to a figure in a mirror in front of her.

Then she closes her eyes and concentrates. The roles are reversed, the tables are turned, but she knows the place she never left, she can never escape, but she can switch. She concentrates all the power that lies in her, within her reach, to transform, to become the last vessel of hopes, an all-encompassing light in the darkness. She gasps as she finally feels her secondary body, his secondary body, and opens his eyes to look at himself in the mirror.

He recognizes these features, these short but wavy, pale purple, almost grey hair. His flat chest, his delicate body. This is definitely not Mamiya Chida, as well this is not the one Anthy has lost long ago, this will be a new catalyst.

Akio sees him as he walks back downstairs, and the expression on his brother’s face is unforgettable. It’s a mix of pure shock and fear, then embarrassment and lastly reluctant approval. Akio’s cannot hide the astonishment from recognizing how he almost, almost looks at his long-lost younger self. That makes Anthy oddly satisfied for a brief moment.

“Nemuro”, Anthy whispers as he walks back to the room. He is not awake, naturally.

Akio has now covered his limbs with something white, as well as attached an extra device around his head. The oxygen mask is still on place, and he seems to be breathing? Or at least something like that. There is a sound of too many machines beeping and buzzing.

Anthy cannot help but fall onto his knees next to him and put his face against his chest.

“…y…a?”

Impossible, but he can feel Nemuro’s hand moving. He is barely conscious, but he has become aware of someone’s presence. Anthy raises his head and with tear-blurred eyes, looks at him. And Nemuro opens his eyes, only a little, but still. And looks straight at him.

“Ma… miya…? Is it… really… you?”

After managing to utter those words under his mask, Nemuro falls back into unconsciousness. Anthy presses his head back to his chest.

“I’m sorry. I won’t leave you. I’m here. I won’t leave you. I’m sorry”, Anthy mumbles through his tears, or Mamiya mumbles, it doesn't matter. This is the constellation now; this has always been the constellation.

*

So many weeks pass in the numbness and silence that Anthy completes two courses of math. The one that was about the derivative, she gets the highest score. It’s all in vain.

Nemuro’s state remains mostly catatonic, but there are short periods when he is at least partly awake. Even talks. At those times, Anthy makes sure that Mamiya is at his side. That Mamiya, never, never, never again leaves him.

Do not let him die.

Some ceremonies are held in the memory of those hundred innocent souls that were killed by fire. The ruins of the Hall remain in the middle of the campus, as a harsh memorial. A terrible accident, a professor who went insane, an old legend to be forgotten. The cycle keeps moving on.

On one evening, Anthy finally sees Nemuro on his feet. He is sitting cross-legged on the floor, next to the Main Engine, typing something to a laptop. There is a wire connecting it to the machine. Akio stands next to him, looking at it with an evaluating gaze.

As Anthy (just Anthy this time, a girl named Anthy, Akio’s sister Anthy) walks closer, she can see how bandages still cover Nemuro’s arms and partly his face. He has a loose white shirt, and the color of his hair is back. Anthy walks still a little closer.

“…to get the Time Planting function correctly. Are you able to override it?”

Akio’s voice.

“Yes, I can do that.”

Nemuro’s.

“Good, next week we run more test- oh, hi Anthy.”

Her brother smiles at her. Nemuro turns his gaze as well, but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even show a significant reaction.

Anthy decides to walk straight up to him. She sits on the ground, right in front of him.

“Professor Nemuro”, she starts.

“Professor Nemuro is dead”, he says, turning his gaze back to the laptop. “He went insane and destroyed himself in the fire.”

Anthy thinks a while what to say.

“Okay. But who are you then?”

Now Nemuro looks directly at her. He is jolted; his eyes are wide. He opens his mouth and before saying a word, faints on the ground.

Akio manages to catch him before his head hits the floor. He is already yelling at her.

“You IDIOT, don’t you see how weak he still is! You must not shock him like that! His recovery process is still in progress, you mustn’t give him additional stress!”

Anthy dares to raise her eyebrows.

“Besides, call him Mikage. He doesn’t want to go with his old name anymore. Remember that.”

Mikage.

(Mamiya).

On that night, Anthy doesn’t go to her own bedroom. Neither to Akio’s large, comfortable bed. She doesn’t even stay on the sofa. Instead, she walks downstairs.

Mikage is lying on his back in the same place. The wires are still connecting him to the machinery, but his eyes are open, and he stares at the ceiling. The bandages are off from his face, and his skin is pale, almost grey. Anthy (Mamiya) kneels next to him.

“Mamiya. There is something wrong in my head.”

Mikage doesn’t look at Anthy.

“There is something inexplicable, but cold. Edges. Angles. Mamiya, it hurts my head when I try to think.”

“You shouldn’t think so much then.”

“Mamiya, I cannot… comprehend. There is something severely wrong. I cannot reach it. Something inside my mind is… hostile to me.”

“Use your mind less, then.”

“It hurts when I try to think, it hurts.”

“Don’t think.”

Anthy’s last comment is just a whisper from his lips against Mikage’s pale cheek. He caresses her lips and sheds a tear, again. Mikage closes his eyes.

Anthy does not return to bed but instead climbs to the narrow space on the shelf-like surface, next to Mikage. It’s hard and uncomfortable, and the wires are pressing to his side. He must curl himself right next to him. Mikage cannot change his position as the wires are keeping him in place, but he places his hand on Anthy’s (Mamiya’s) shoulder and turns his head towards him.

Anthy lies in an awkward position, but presses his head to his neck, places his arms around him as well as he can, and stays the whole night. His side becomes numb from the hard underlay, and he listens to the humming, buzzing and occasional beeping of the machines, joint with Mikage’s uneven breathing through the night.