I wasn't always like this.
***
It would be fair to say that most of my life was guided by the joy of defeating soone who's good at what they do. It was fun to beat my dad at chess. It was fun to beat the fastest boy at school. It was fun to get the highest score in the class.
However, it was around this ti that I realised sothing. Most of the people around simply weren't driven by the sa motivations. Eventually, there was no one who I felt could speak on equal terms with .
Children naturally tend to avoid things that are hard for them. This was sothing that I noticed in the people around . It was impossible to get them to actively engage with in anything. They never put in the ti, effort or dedication required to genuinely challenge .
Still, I still got a little amount of joy from playing with them. But it always seed like I was an adult, looking down at them, aimlessly explaining things to them over and over.
I would also talk with adults, but they would always look down on . They would simply disregard as 'cute' and leave it at that. No one ever bothered to have a genuine conversation with . It was painful—like I was living in an echo chamber where no one could hear .
I just wanted soone who understood , soone who shared the thoughts I had, soone who could relate to .
—That's all a child ever wants, isn't it?
It was a few months before the death of my parents when I first t an interesting person.
• ───────────────── •
I looked down at the girl sitting on the couch in front of , writing sothing on a piece of paper. From what I could tell, she was a few years older than . I was planning on reading a book on that couch before she swiftly took the seat that I had wanted.
I guess I'll just find another.
"Hey, you."
Huh. I turned around upon hearing her voice.
"Do I know you?"
"You wanted to sit here, didn't you?"
"Well, I did want to sit there, but not so much anymore."
She laughed a little.
"Don't worry. You can sit next to !"
"Eh..."
It was a bit awkward now that she offered so proactively.
I looked at her sheet of paper. Seeing it again, I noticed that she had been scribbling down a music score. It was upside down, but I could still envision it in my head.
It was bad.
"Your piece is bad."
"Huh?"
This ti, she was the one taken aback.
"The lody is boring."
"W-what... wait, how do you know? Also, it's not bad!"
She scrambled, speed-reading through her piece.
"It's hard to tell when I don't have sothing to play it with, you know? The music store I usually go to was closed today! Anyways, you just have bad taste."
"I do not have bad taste!"
I snatched her sheet music out of her hand. In the process, she ended up tearing off the corner of the paper. I began reading her piece more carefully.
Suddenly, she got up.
Slap.
My cheek began to hurt.
"Don't just go around stealing other people's things!"
In the short period of ti, upon reading it more closely, I realised that it wasn't as bad as I thought. Her handwriting was ssy, which made it hard to read while it was upside-down. However, as I played the tune in my mind, it was actually quite nice.
She snatched her sheet music back from .
I looked up at her.
"Sorry. I just wanted a closer look at it."
"Well, ask at least!"
...
"Anyways, it was actually pretty good."
It seed she didn't hear because she stord off into the distance.
I realised that I hadn't made the best first impression. However, her na was on the sheet music, so I'd likely be able to talk to her again. Her na was Mizuhara Sayaka.
Seeing her music, I could tell that she was talented. More importantly, she acted differently from other children I had t.
In an ironic expression of fate, I ended up eting her one more ti.
...
***
...
I had been a part of the Ideal Human Project for several years at this point. The sound of people calling the 'prodigy' of the project was beginning to feel dull in my ears. It was obvious that I'd be the best if I was the one who worked the most efficiently and effectively. This was a given—was it not?
It was ironic that the next ti I t Sayaka was at the end of the Ideal Human Project. It was a comical repetition of history because, this ti, I only made a worse impression.
Rushing into the facility, she was looking for Ayato, but all she could find was .
The Incident that Ruined the Outcos had just occurred.
I looked at her face. It was colder than before. All of the emotions that used to live there had completely disappeared, just like . I gave her a little smile, but it didn't make her very happy.
"Where are all of the Outcos?"
I looked up at her.
"They're gone now."
Suddenly, a spout of anger surged through her. She grabbed my shoulders, shaking my body.
"What do you an they're gone...?!"
"They're gone."
Looking around, she saw the crying Tachibana Emi curled up in a ball, covering her eyes with her sleeves. Imdiately, she rushed over to her, asking for details, trying to figure out what had happened. She was ignoring , so I decided to make my way toward the main hall of the facility—that was where Ayato was.
...
Since Sayaka hates so much, I guess she must've found out what part I had to play in the Incident that Ruined the Outcos.
It was ironic.
I guess there was no fixing this relationship anymore.
I wonder, Sayaka, what will you do?
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