Chapter 18: The Last Dungeon

Life is a fleeting, mysterious thing. Even as a high schooler, I can sense it. Circumstances shift in an instant, and endings twist with startling ease.

From elementary to middle school, then to high school, classmates drift in and out as naturally as the seasons. Friends change too. Everything seems the same on the surface, yet I’ve changed without realizing it. At some point, I must have forgotten—did I ever believe eternity was real?

Yesterday, I sat with Toudou at the café. It wasn’t even a proper conversation—just the two of us at the same table, lost in different thoughts.

If I’d said back then, “Hey, let’s play something together,” would we have ended up gaming side by side at that café? I don’t know. But imagining it feels wrong, somehow.

That’s why I made up my mind. People might laugh and call it foolish, but it’s how I truly feel.

The classroom buzzed with the usual lunch break chaos, but my desk felt like an island of quiet. Well, almost quiet—behind me, the intellectual gyaru group chattered away as always, their voices a constant hum. None of it had anything to do with me.

And it wasn’t like I could just turn around and strike up a conversation with Toudou right now.

“…”

Still, I could feel an intense gaze boring into my back, sharp enough to make me imagine a faint staring sound. I didn’t need to guess who it was. Toudou Mashiro. We hadn’t spoken or exchanged a single LIME message since, but her eyes had been glued to me all day. I was starting to understand how zoo animals must feel, trapped under constant scrutiny.

“Mashiro? What’s up? You’ve been super quiet,” one of the girls from the intellectual gyaru group said, her tone casual but curious.

It was that obvious, apparently. Toudou’s staring had been relentless all morning.

“Huh? Nah, it’s nothing…” Toudou’s voice came out soft, evasive.

“Really? ’Cause you’ve been staring in one direction this whole time—and, uh, that’s just Kuroi-kun over there, right?”

“Wrong.”

“Huh? No, it’s not wrong. You’re totally looking, aren’t you?”

“It’s not Kuroi. It’s Kuroki-kun. Black tree bathed in sunlight, Kuroki You-kun. Blood type A, a bit neurotic, a romantic born in November. Even if he’s in another class, it’s rude to mess up a guy’s name, so you’ve gotta be careful.”

“Uh, yeah… blood type and birthday are, like, super irrelevant… Wait, why’re you smiling while sounding kinda mad, Mashiro?”

“I-I’m not mad!”

“You’re panicking pretty hard, though…”

“I’m not panicking!”

“Okay, okay, chill. Let’s check your heart rate to calm you down. Uh, heart’s on the right or left?”

“H-Hey! Where are you touching?!”

I really wished they’d keep their voices down—or at least move somewhere I couldn’t hear every word. Also, where was she touching her? And how did Toudou know my blood type and birthday? So many questions I’d rather shove out of my mind.

Could we pick up yesterday’s conversation? Doubtful. I’d mulled it over on the way to school, and this was the result—zero progress, no words exchanged. Sure, we’d always been like this: gaming together after school, but during the day, we were practically strangers, our chats confined to LIME. So, in a way, Toudou staring at me like this wasn’t new. It was the same old distance, the same unchanged relationship.

…Yeah, that was a stretch, even for me.

School ended, and as usual, I waited for the familiar chime of a LIME message—an invite to game or, more recently, a plan to head to my house. But today, as I half-expected, my phone stayed silent… no notification sound.

It felt awkward. Toudou was probably feeling it too… maybe. That’s exactly why I wanted to talk today, to sweep away this weird tension. Brave, right? Hardly. I’m a coward, desperate to erase my worries as fast as possible.

“…Guess I’ll head home,” I muttered to myself in the empty classroom, the weight of the silence sinking in… It hit me then—what a ridiculously privileged life I’d been living. My high school days, once so ordinary, had become vibrant, all because of one girl: Toudou Mashiro.

Her presence was like a hero’s in a game, the kind everyone wants in their party. She was larger than life, and people naturally gravitated toward her. In games, you always want to team up with the strongest players, and Toudou was exactly that—a force that elevated everyone around her.

“For me, she was a party member way out of my league…” I mumbled, lost in thought. Would our connection just fade away, like bubbles popping on the surface of a quiet pond? I was wallowing in that bittersweet sentiment, slipping on my shoes at the lockers, when a voice broke through.

“…Kuroki-kun.”

My heart might’ve stopped for a second.

“Uh, oh… Toudou.”

She stood there, eyes cast downward, fingers fidgeting. For a moment, she looked like the one being blamed, but that couldn’t be right. If anyone was at fault, it was me.

“Kuroki-kun, um…” Toudou started, but her words trailed off, leaving a rare silence in their wake. The usually vibrant Toudou, always so full of life, seemed almost hesitant.

I had so much I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her about the decision I’d made yesterday, the one I’d turned over in my mind. But first, I needed to apologize. I’d been too one-sided, talking over her when I should’ve listened. The urge to clear the air overwhelmed me, and before I could stop myself, I bowed my head.

“Sorry about yesterday!”

“S-Sorry, yesterday… Huh?”

I glanced up, only to find Toudou bowing too, her head lowered like some hero apologizing to a random villager. Our eyes met as we both straightened, staring at each other in a shared moment of stunned silence.

From somewhere nearby, voices drifted over—the intellectual gyaru group, their chatter cutting through the quiet.

“Huh? Mashiro’s there… Is she bowing her head or something?”

“No way. Mashiro wouldn’t apologize. It’s gotta be the other way around, right?”

“But that’s… Kuroki, yeah. Haven’t they been hanging out lately?”

“Wait… No way she’s got some dirt on him or something, right?”

This was bad. I could already imagine the rumors spreading, with me losing spectacularly in the court of public opinion.

Toudou’s gaze flicked upward, a subtle nod toward the top of the stairs—our secret base, the stair landing where we could talk freely. I didn’t need to say a word. Of course, I agreed. Secret bases were made for moments like these.

＊

We reached the stair landing separately, settling across from each other in silence. Tens of seconds dragged by, heavy and unspoken, until Toudou finally broke, her voice soft but edged with urgency.

“Kuroki-kun, you’re mad, right…? You apologized, so… will you forgive me?”

“Forgive what? I’m the one who messed up. I decided things on my own, didn’t even listen to you. It’s my fault. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“But I took it out on you too…” Toudou’s awkwardness felt unfamiliar, almost refreshing.

“Took it out on me?”

It didn’t seem like she was angry with me.

“…Yeah. My mom was going on about stuff, and I couldn’t talk back. It got me down, but then I saw your face, Kuroki-kun, and somehow I got irritated…”

“Does my face just… irritate people?” The thought stung more than being called ugly.

Toudou’s hands shot up, waving frantically. “N-No, that’s not it! It’s like… I feel I don’t have to hold back with you, Kuroki-kun. All the stuff I was bottling up just spilled out. It’s because I was relying on you… and, um, sorry for relying on you like that!”

“Relying…?” My mind conjured an absurd image—Toudou with cat ears, purring “Nyaaan” as she licked my finger with a pink tongue. I shook my head to banish the thought. Lethal. What was I even imagining?

The real Toudou, without cat ears, went on. “So… I knew I had to apologize. I was watching for the right moment all day, but it ended up being after school…”

Her fingers threaded through her hair, more habit than necessity, her cheeks faintly red. Guilt, maybe? Either way, it warmed me to know she saw me as an equal—someone she could talk to openly, no games between us. It was thrilling, like being invited to a hero’s party, even if I’d be dead weight on the journey.

Toudou glanced up again. “So… will you forgive me?”

“Forgive what? I’m the one asking for forgiveness. So forgive me too.”

“Of course. I forgive you, obviously.”

“Yeah? Then same here.”

Incredible. I was incredible. A twisted high school boy, bent like a 90-degree iron plate, yet here I was, letting honest words flow like a clear stream.

Toudou exhaled, relief softening her features. “…Good. I’ll be careful from now on.”

“Same here. I’ll be careful too.”

But I was still just me—Kuroki You, unchanged. No matter how fun it felt, a bad game was still a bad game. You don’t delude yourself into thinking it’s good just because someone enjoys it. That’s a path to ruin. Like me, teetering on the edge of saying something foolish.

Still, it was my truth. The thoughts I’d chewed over endlessly yesterday took shape for the first time.

“Hey… I’ve got one thing I need to tell you. I thought about it seriously, so… can you listen?”

“Sure, but huh? So sudden? What’s this? It’s kinda scary.” Toudou’s usual confidence wavered, her gaze darting nervously.

I exhaled, then inhaled deeply. It felt like the colors inside me were shifting. I’d forgotten the gaps between us, caught up in some fluke high score. All this time, I’d been forcing myself to keep pace with Toudou. Gaming with her was fun—thrilling, even—but beneath it, I was always anxious, belittling myself to balance the scales in my heart. Otherwise, I couldn’t bear it.

That balance was crumbling now. No—I’d break it myself.

“Hey, Toudou.”

“So, what is it, Kuroki-kun?” Her modest smile carried a raw emotion she’d never show in the classroom. I knew a blue eye hid behind those black contacts.

If I reached out, I could touch that gem. But it was something I’d stumbled upon by chance, a mirage that could vanish. Worse, I feared dulling its shine.

So I had to say it.

“Don’t you think it’s about time we stop playing games together?”

“…Huh?” Toudou’s expression froze, caught between a laugh and something like tears.

But I pressed on. “I get that games are fun. I know you love them. But do you really need to play them with me? Wouldn’t it be better with someone closer to you… someone from your world?”

“W-Wait, Kuroki-kun, what are you saying all of a sudden—”

Toudou tried to cut me off, and normally, I’d have stopped right there. But not today. I needed her to hear this.

“I think you shouldn’t keep coming to my house either. If it’s a relationship that’d cause trouble if people found out, maybe it’s time to end it. This could be a good opportunity, depending on how you look at it.”

“That’s not true at all…!” Toudou’s eyes met mine, her expression heavy with sadness.

I wanted to take it all back. A lump rose in my throat, a sense of loss and helplessness washing over me, like I’d just deleted a save file I’d poured hours into leveling up. But this was my choice.

I bowed my head, alone this time. “Sorry for springing this on you… It’s been eating at me for a while. I keep wondering if I’ve changed things for you.”

The truth was, I’d lost sight of the right distance to keep with Toudou. Playing games together felt like the only thing I could offer her, but now, even that seemed like a mistake.

Toudou stayed silent, offering no response.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, I rose from my seat. “So… I won’t come here anymore.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at her face. Was this really the right choice? I didn’t know. But I couldn’t stand the thought of Toudou using me to escape reality. It didn’t suit her—Toudou Mashiro, who shone so brightly.

I left the stair landing behind, all alone.

“…Yeah, got it. Thanks for everything until now.”

I hoped that the awfully lonely voice I heard from behind was just an auditory hallucination—as I wished that.

＊

In the quiet of my room at night, sprawled across my bed, I closed my eyes, only for the after-school events to replay relentlessly in my mind.

Toudou’s sad face lingered, a sight I wished I could erase. She must have worn that expression before, in places I couldn’t see, right? If she was masking it by playing games with me, that wasn’t okay. I wanted Toudou to face things head-on, with that bright, genuine spark she sometimes showed.

I’d been turning it over in my head for a while now. Why would someone like Toudou Mashiro choose to play games with someone like me? Was it just chance? Some inevitable pull? Affection? Or—pity? The moment I caught her flashing those fake smiles in the classroom, a theory clicked into place. Was Toudou deceiving herself too?

Maybe she was seeking an escape from a family that frowned on games. Or maybe, by hanging out with me, Kuroki You, she was crafting a version of herself that could play freely, without guilt. Did she have problems she needed to confront but was dodging them instead?

The more I mulled it over, the more it felt true. It was like skipping study time before a big test to munch on fries at a fast-food joint with friends. Having someone else there makes your own choices fade into the background, less noticeable. The fries are delicious, after all—crisp, salty, satisfying.

But if I voiced it, the illusion would shatter. All this time, I’d been deceiving myself too, playing along with Toudou. That couldn’t go on. So I made up my mind. I told her. That was that.

Still, one worry gnawed at me. “I went and declared it without listening to what Toudou had to say…” The words felt heavy, like a misstep in a game where ignoring a party member’s input costs you their trust. I knew better. But I wanted Toudou Mashiro to move forward, to be the version of herself who tackled game strategies with that fearless, genuine enthusiasm.

“I didn’t want her to run away…” The quiet words slipped out, dissolving into the stillness of the night.

＊

My attempt to play it cool left my mind utterly drained. Telling someone my honest opinion straight to their face? That was a first for me. I’d always just gone with the flow, blending in with everyone else. Even in games, when teaming up to climb the ranks, I stuck to being the mediator, smoothing things over. Yet here I was, having spilled everything to Toudou. No wonder my heart was pounding like crazy.

Summer break was just around the corner, and with it, the natural distance that would come from not seeing each other. Only a few days remained until the closing ceremony. The classroom already buzzed with the carefree heat of vacation mode.

Behind my seat, Saru-kun was hovering around the intellectual gyaru group, tossing out his usual brand of harassment. “Hey, hey! Did you buy swimsuits? What kind? I’m all about black bikinis!”

The gyaru with the sharpest tongue in the group shot back, “Shut up, you pervy monkey. You’re inviting everyone properly, right? If it’s just you among the guys, we’ll bury you in the sand and leave you there.”

[T/N: Not sure if this is intended in the raws or if it’s a gag since they jokingly call him Saruwatari, but they sticked to calling him ‘Saru’ from now on. However, his real name is Sawatari.]

Unfazed by the icy retort, Saru-kun clapped his hands with a grin. “Of course I invited them. I told you to leave it to me, didn’t I? Everything’s set, perfect.”

“That’s exactly why we’re worried,” she snapped. “Mashiro’s coming too, and she’s bound to attract pickup artists. You better handle that properly, got it? Mashiro’s practically a celebrity, you know.”

If Toudou were here, she’d deny it with every fiber of her being, but her voice was absent now. She wasn’t around. Not that it mattered to me anymore.

Saru-kun pressed on, undeterred. “My relative runs a beach house. We can use all sorts of stuff for free. The beach is nice and clean too—not too crowded, but there’s enough people to keep it lively.”

“Whoa, awesome,” another gyaru chimed in. “Don’t you have, like, a private beach? Some secret spot only locals know about?”

“There is one, but you’d need to stay at the inn to get guided there. Wait, what? You’re not suggesting we stay together, are you?”

“Die, Saru. Just die.”

It was the usual classroom chaos, but Toudou wasn’t part of it. I hadn’t seen her all day, except during class. The absence felt strange, like a shift in the usual scenery that left me uneasy. Unable to stand the classroom’s stifling atmosphere, I slipped out.

That’s when it happened, as if perfectly timed, like someone had been watching me. My phone buzzed. Unlocking the screen, I found a single message from Toudou Mashiro.

Mashiro: After school, can you come to Kazehana Park? It’s not for playing games, so it should be fine, right?

Not for games—true enough. I quickly looked up the location. It was a bit far but manageable, perched on a small hill with a view overlooking the city. A quiet nature park, from the sound of it.

I hadn’t expected our last conversation to be the end of it. If anything, this felt like the start of something new. I was the one who’d set this in motion, so running away now wasn’t an option.

You: Got it. I’ll go.

I sent the reply, short and simple, and waited for the school day to end.

As I made my way to Kazehana Park with time to spare, my mind wandered, tangled in a mess of thoughts.

I should’ve been suspicious from the start. A celebrity like Toudou Mashiro, singling out a nobody like me in class, suggesting we play games together? How did it even come to this? No matter how I turned it over, the answer was painfully clear. It was my fault. All of it.

Today, I had to set things straight, to explain myself properly.

Being around Toudou Mashiro sent my nerves into overdrive, like my brain was short-circuiting. Just looking at her made my heart stutter, threatening to stop altogether. “No way I can say that…” I muttered under my breath. If I could spit out something that smooth, I’d be handling this a lot better.

“Well, this is what I get, I guess.” The words slipped out, heavy with resignation.

Fine, I’d admit it. I admired Toudou Mashiro. Not in some grand, romantic way—I wasn’t planning to confess or anything. I hadn’t even thought that far. It was more like admiring a top-tier gamer, a star player who dominates the leaderboards or a streamer with a legion of followers. Toudou was always so direct, flashing bold smiles in front of everyone, sharp as a tack, dependable. She had a ton of friends, a warm friendliness, and above all… she was cute. Beautiful, even.

Having someone like her as a classmate was already incredible. When she suggested we play together, I’d been genuinely thrilled, proud just to be noticed. But after circling through it all, the truth hit me.

She was from a different world, and I didn’t want her to keep hiding behind lies.

That’s why I’d face her properly today. No matter how many times she called, I’d answer. I owed her that much.