Monday rolled around, marking the start of another week. Mai had finally come back to school after being absent for a while.
During lunch break, she came by my classroom and invited me to eat with her. I hesitated for a moment, but Shoko lightly kicked my shin, nudging me to go along.
Honestly, I felt too guilty to even look Mai in the eye. The weight of remorse gnawed at me, leaving me to simply chew on my yakisoba bread in silence as we sat together on a bench on the rooftop.
“I had a dream about Kazuki last night.”
My heart skipped a beat, and I nearly crushed my yakisoba bread in my hands.
“…What kind of dream?”
“A dream where Kazuki was living happily in heaven. Maybe it wasn’t just a dream, you know? He was running around in a big, open field, looking so lively.”
I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze as she smiled brightly, so I just looked away, muttering, “I see.”
“I’ve been thinking about this ‘Human Level’ a lot lately, wondering what exactly changed because of it. When I do, all sorts of people come to mind…like you, Yuichi, and Kazuki.”
“…Same here.”
Human Level is just a system. It’s not something that any one person can really decide is right or wrong.
A system can be seen from so many angles, depending on the person or their position.
God would be the designer or the one who conceived it. I’m the one who resists it. Shoko’s the type who accepts it. And Mai—well, she’s largely unaffected by it. Yet, her classmates, the ones around her, seem to find ways to exploit her, taking advantage of any loopholes in the system to get something out of her.
Then there’s Masaya-san and Sanae-san, who tried to bend the system’s rules to save Kazuki. And Kazuki himself…he might just be one of its victims.
“When Kazuki died, and I had a bit of time to think about everything, I was…for the first time, I felt grateful for Human Level, and to the God who gave it to us. If it weren’t for that, we probably couldn’t have done anything for him…to send him off to heaven together.”
“…Maybe.”
The words I said felt like knives stabbing into my own chest. I had never hated myself more than I did in that moment—for knowing everything, pretending to be oblivious, and lying right to her face.
Mai didn’t know the truth—that Kazuki had fallen into hell, that he had lied, that I’d had a chance to save him…
…and that I’d let that chance slip away.
I was seized by a strong urge to confess everything right there and then, to apologize. The weight of that truth was too heavy to carry alone, and I wanted Mai to bear at least half of it with me.
But I couldn’t say it. How could I tell her Kazuki ended up in hell because of me? How could I rob her of her comforting belief that Kazuki was in heaven?
I decided, right then, to carry this burden for life.
Living with this guilt was the only way I could atone for what I’d done.
“So, are you doing more volunteer work today?”
“Yeah, I’ve filled up my whole schedule again for this week. And you?”
“I’ll come along.”
Mai smiled, genuinely pleased.
She was truly grateful that I’d been helping her with her volunteer work. If it could make her happy, even a little, I’d gladly keep helping her again and again.
“Maybe you should take another week off. Midterms are coming up soon too, after all.”
“…If I sit still, I just start thinking about all sorts of unpleasant things. And, well, this is something I want to do, after all.”
“…I see.”
She’d once told me she’d do good deeds for both her and Kazuki. Maybe it was that thought that kept her going.
“…What about the weekend?”
She used to visit Kazuki every weekend, but that routine was now empty.
“I’ve got nothing planned yet. But I might schedule something for the weekend too. It’s a rare day off, after all.”
Unlike weekdays, weekends were ideal for bigger volunteer projects since there was more free time. Actually, volunteering was usually something done on the weekends anyway.
“For that sort of volunteering, Shoko’s the one to ask. I’ll see if she has any ideas.”
“Oh, thank you! But you know, Shoko-san never volunteers with us. Even though she was so eager to get points.”
“…Yeah, I wonder why.”
I brushed it off with a vague laugh.
“If you’re looking for weekend volunteer work, what about an amusement park? I do it often,” Shoko suggested without missing a beat when I brought it up during the break after fifth period.
“Volunteering at an amusement park?”
“Those simple jobs they used to hire part-timers for? They’re now done by volunteers. People love doing it, and it saves costs for the park. Win-win, right?”
“By ‘simple jobs,’ you mean like wearing costumes and handing out balloons?”
“More like guiding people in lines or keeping an eye on things. Oh, and watching for lost kids; just doing rounds to make sure everyone’s okay helps a lot.”
“Hmm, sounds interesting.”
“You also get to see the shows while making rounds, and they sometimes treat you to food on breaks. Not a bad gig.”
Sounds way more fun than rearranging bikes by the train station.
“I’ll be doing rounds at the amusement park on Saturday, so if you’re interested, I can put in a word for you.”
“Yeah, I’ll take you up on that.”
If it were a part-time job, there’d be an interview or something, but most places aren’t picky about volunteers these days, and they usually don’t mind more people showing up for shifts.
That’s the nice part about volunteering—things move fast.
“Of course, you’re going with Kawase-san too, right?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Then I’ll sign you both up for the rounds. You should enjoy the show together too.”
Knowing Mai, she’d probably be genuinely looking for lost kids, unlike Shoko. But a bit of fun might do her good, so I accepted Shoko’s suggestion.
Mai agreed instantly, so on Saturday, we headed to the amusement park, Dreamland, to volunteer as round-watchers.
The three of us checked in at Dreamland, where a staff member briefed us and handed us small radios to contact the lost child center if anything came up. They also taught us what to do if we found a lost child, and Mai listened carefully.
We didn’t have a fixed patrol course but were advised to cover as much ground as possible and always prioritize the guests.
Lastly, they made us subtly promise not to slack off more than necessary.
“Alright, let’s just wander around till our shift starts.”
Shoko stretched, looking tired of all the instructions.
“Let’s find a bench to sit on.”
“You’re giving up already? You’ve got no discipline, seriously.”
“Wouldn’t it be more efficient if we split up?”
“No need to think about efficiency. I doubt we’ll find five lost kids in a single day.”
“Let’s just walk around and get familiar with the layout. It’s still early, and any lost kids will probably start showing up later.”
The two of them agreed, and we began wandering around Dreamland together.
Dreamland was packed with families. There were all sorts of attractions, lively voices filled the air, and just walking around was already draining.
While the visitors were there for fun, we were there to volunteer, so our motivation and enthusiasm weren’t exactly the same.
Especially Shoko, who kept stopping at gift shops and ice cream stalls, looking like she wanted to buy something each time.
Mai, on the other hand, was scanning the area, checking for any children who might be lost even though the park had only just opened.
Her earnest personality hadn’t changed a bit. She was gradually returning to her usual self. Maybe, just maybe, the grief over Kazuki was starting to heal.
Seeing her like that made me feel happy…and also guilty at the same time.
Watching her stand on her own two feet again was a relief, but knowing that her hope was based on a misunderstanding—that Kazuki had gone to heaven—made it bittersweet.
My silence about the truth weighed heavily on me, eating away at my conscience.
She’d keep working hard to do good deeds, believing she’d reunite with Kazuki in heaven. But one day, when she finally passed on, she’d realize the truth.
Kazuki had fallen into hell. She’d never see him again.
The thought of that future sorrow made my stomach twist.
Shoko was half-jokingly telling me to go enjoy a date with Mai, watch the shows together, and all that. But I was actually open to the idea.
If it could take her mind off things, even a little, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to slack off on our duties for a while.
After wandering around for a bit, we decided to take a break.
Shoko’s constant reminders that we could keep an eye out for lost kids while sitting on a bench were starting to wear me down, so I finally gave in.
There hadn’t been any lost kids or disputes among the guests yet. The lively noise around us was oddly comforting.
“Can you believe it’s only been forty minutes?”
Shoko checked her watch and flopped down on a bench, looking defeated. It was almost eleven o’clock.
“Just wandering around without going on any rides or shopping is harder than I thought.”
I was a bit tired too. When I’d come to amusement parks as a kid, I never felt this exhausted, but I guess perspective changes with age.
“Ugh, I need a drink…Let’s play rock-paper-scissors. Loser has to get drinks for everyone.”
“Fine. I’m going with paper.”
“If you lie, I’m reporting you to God. I’m going with scissors, then.”
“I’ll get them. You two can rest.”
Mai got up from the bench and ran toward the vending machine nearby. I unclenched the fist I’d been about to show.
“Kawase-san’s really full of energy. Is she always like this?”
“Always.”
She’s always giving her all, always trying her best for someone else.
“…It’s tough to save up points, right? They barely add up.”
“Yeah.”
I knew why. Shoko had mentioned it before—the points were getting harder to earn these days.
It’ll only get tougher. Soon enough, almost all good deeds will earn no bonus, and people will only earn points at face value, no matter how hard they try. We’re just a few years away from that time.
“But losing points? That’s so, so easy.”
“All you have to do is sit back and do nothing, right?”
“No, it’s worse. Do one bad thing, and they take thirty, even a hundred points just like that.”
“They really take that much? It sounds like a brutal business model.”
For most people, earning a hundred points in three months is a feat. Losing all that with one slip-up would be devastating.
No wonder crime rates are plummeting worldwide.
Is this all part of the system’s design? Maybe it’s natural to not give much thought to good deeds but to strongly resent bad ones. If so, then getting hit hard with point deductions makes sense.
“Once, I got into a fight with a friend. I said something terrible…about her family being poor. She cried, and I lost forty points at the next dream review.”
“Were you furious?”
“More than angry, I panicked. The next day, I rushed to apologize. She forgave me, but I didn’t get any points back. It didn’t seem fair. I kept wondering why it had to be so strict about everything.”
“….”
My guess? That friend hadn’t truly forgiven Shoko. She probably thought Shoko only apologized to protect her Human Level, so the system didn’t give any adjustment in points.
“After that, I decided to see Human Level as just a system, something to take at face value. Everyone else seemed to, and I figured all good deeds were ultimately for personal gain anyway.”
At that moment, Shoko glanced over at Mai, who was buying drinks at the vending machine.
“But watching Kawase-san, and you too, Yuichi, I’ve been realizing lately…some people want to help others just because they want to. There are people like that…more than I thought. And if there’s a problem, maybe it’s that I haven’t learned how to recognize people like that.”
“….”
“Maybe it’s normal for people to want to help each other more often than I thought.”
“For the ones helping, that’s fine, I guess. But the ones being helped…they can’t take it for granted.”
That’s the kind of world God’s trying to create. A world where people think it’s only natural to be helped. If it ever came to that, there’d be more people like Kazuki, falling into hell for no reason.
“Yuichi, you’ve really changed.”
“Have I?”
“You’re kinder now.”
“…I’ve always been a nice guy.”
“Love changes people, huh?”
Shoko laughed out loud, and I felt a bit embarrassed as I stood up from the bench.
Just then, Mai returned with three drinks. I took two of them to help her out. I shook the soda bottle hard before handing it to Shoko.
