"Why?"

That was what Kotone said when she saw Sota.

That "why" wasn't asking about the reason such a place existed, nor was it an expression of confusion. It wasn't a "why" filled with terror at the fact that monsters that shouldn't exist in this world were real.

It was a "why" about the reason Sota was here.

Though her trembling eyes were filled with fear, that fear wasn't because of this unidentifiable place or the monsters. It was fear about the very fact that Sota was here.

Kotone's left wrist had a wound that was split open vertically. Blood wasn't just flowing but slowly spurting out, and in that hand, she held a long, bright red blade.

"I see."

Sota exhaled.

"So that's what it was."

Kotone already knew. That such a world existed.

It was the first time he had seen such an expression in Kotone's eyes.

"......"

Sota got up and looked toward the source of the sound.

Koko was fighting the monster. Though he didn't understand exactly what was happening, Koko's hair was moving like a whip toward the monster.

He had no idea what was going on. He only instinctively felt that these things shouldn't be left alone.

Had these children been fighting on the other side of the world all this time?

Sota had felt fear quite often in his life.

From his childhood, even in those hazy memories, he remembered the sounds of his mother and father fighting. He couldn't recall exactly what they said, but the noise was loud enough to reach Sota's room on another floor, so they must have been screaming at the top of their lungs.

When he came downstairs in the morning, something was always broken.

Usually it was just plates or cups that had disappeared, but sometimes the TV or radio would be damaged.

They tried to clean up before Sota came down, but even as a child, he wasn't oblivious.

Occasionally, the realization that those broken objects could have been Shii or himself was enough to terrify young Sota.

He was scared when his mother finally took Shii and left.

Would he never see them again?

In his young mind, the disappearance of family was so frightening.

But that fear didn't last very long.

There was a child Sota's age who often came to play.

That child casually took Shii to their home. That child's parents, just as casually, as if it were the most natural thing, protected Shii.

Sota felt relieved. At least he wouldn't lose her forever. Shii was just a five-minute walk away, and when Sota visited that house—except for the father, no one minded.

Kotone never treated Sota or Shii like pitiful children. She just treated them like any other classmate, sometimes being mischievous, sometimes getting annoyed or angry.

But because of that, Sota had no reason to fear that family.

That casual normality gave him a sense of reassurance, as if they would always be there.

When he first saw Shii after she ran away from that house, he was afraid he might lose his sister forever, and when his father finally left home too, he felt completely lost about what to do next.

School taught various things, but having to do everything by himself—that fact alone made him feel like a heavy weight had been placed on his shoulders.

He was happy to live with Shii again, but Sota, suddenly becoming the head of the household at such a young age, had no idea what to do.

And the people who helped him then were Kotone and her family.

The fact that Sota, who had only cooked during home economics class at school, could now awkwardly but completely prepare various dishes. The fact that he could keep things tidy despite the hassle. Knowing which day to put out the garbage, what to do when the pipes got clogged.

It was all because of the help he received.

That help was also a kind of "casual normality." Something so natural that it sometimes made him forget that having those people there was a miracle.

So perhaps Sota had unconsciously come to think of it that way.

That Kotone was just an ordinary child.

A bright and cheerful child with many friends. So, maybe she was just fine in every way.

"...I was wrong."

Was she just pretending to be okay?

No, he didn't think that was it either. Rather, she probably really was okay when she was with her friends.

Because she could protect everything. Because the meaning of her fight was right in front of her.

But even so.

She couldn't be "always" okay.

Sota thought he understood why Kotone had been looking increasingly tired lately.

Sota reached out to Kotone.

It was his right hand, the one not bleeding.

Kotone, who had been staring blankly at Sota, also reached out somewhat dazedly and took his hand.

"Let's go. We need to help Koko."

He thought long explanations weren't necessary.

Because Kotone would have fought without considering such things.

Giving various reasons, examining the evidence—those things didn't really match Kotone's personality.

"...Okay."

Kotone answered.

*

I thought about bringing Sota in. I thought about bringing Yuka in.

Because these children would survive anyway. They were the protagonists, weren't they? Even though the death rate of light novel characters was high in those days, main characters and heroines rarely died.

No, did I really think only that?

Did I actually think it wouldn't matter if they died? Because if the protagonist or heroine died, it would mean they were destined to die anyway.

Sad endings or bad endings aren't impossible, are they?

So, was it actually because I thought that if I was by their side, I could convince myself it was okay no matter who died, by attaching various reasons?

Because the people who really mattered to me were Kagami and Koko. Because I didn't care what happened to other beings—

Was I just clinging to people who could fight, thinking I could survive by utilizing what I knew about the plot—

The reason I couldn't bring myself to involve Shii and Sota was because I was aware of this myself.

Because I actually knew that I had created this situation.

Because I had become too close to those children whom I initially intended to use for my own safety.

"Sota...!"

Sota doesn't know this. Neither do Shii or Yuka.

But even if they don't know, why?

Does Sota not know why this space exists? Even after seeing me with a wound on one arm just like him, holding a blade I created, does he not realize this situation happened because of me, that I dragged him into this?

I hurriedly ran after Sota.

A monster lunged at Sota. Well, "lunged" might not be the right word since it was just a sticky mass.

Sota, who didn't know how to wield a sword, swung his knife at it. It was shorter than the one I held, almost like a dagger, so Sota's body only accumulated more wounds.

Was that okay with him? Did it not matter if he got hurt protecting me?

As I ran toward Sota, another monster appeared, which I sliced in half with my blade. It wasn't completely cut, as it tried to merge back together, but this time Koko's hair cut through it.

That's how the fight went.

As always.

Getting wounded by attacks we couldn't dodge or block, bleeding, covered in the enemy's blood.

A completely unpleasant task that made me wonder why I had longed for this so much when reading novels as a child.

Since this was Sota's first time in such a situation, it would have been fine if he had been scared and run away. I would have preferred that, actually.

If only, if only Sota and Shii, who were at the center of the original story, had remained ignorant of this world. If they had just become college students and then office workers without knowing anything until we became adults, until the story could be considered over.

Then, perhaps my sin might have been somewhat forgivable. I thought that regardless of my initial intentions, the story might have changed because of my existence.

That's what I thought.

Then I felt someone's back against mine. The sound of flesh being cut. And blood pouring out.

There were two people behind me. Sota and Koko.

I don't know what to say.

Whether to call it fear. Or tension.

As we swing our blades, we all turn red. Just like Sota whom I saw earlier. To the point where we can't tell whose wounds the blood is flowing from.

"...Haa."

But still, there is an end.

If we just endure and stand, not letting go of our blades.

"......"

Slowly, the sounds that had stopped return. The footsteps of passersby. The sounds of inhaling and screaming.

And.

"...Are you okay?"

Sota's voice too.

...That's my line.

I muttered weakly.

I'm not sure if it was audible or not.