Chapter 12
by Need_More_SleepChapter 12: Save Me
When a person is highly tense and trying to prove the credibility of their words, they often end up saying things they shouldn’t.
By the time the girl realized she was spilling Shimizu Sakuya’s most hidden secrets like someone who’d lost their mind, it was already an irreparable mistake.
No matter how you looked at it, this was someone else’s private matter.
Even if she knew, she shouldn’t have blurted it out so carelessly. Now she seemed like some kind of stalker—a creep who followed people, took secret photos, or even planted cameras in their homes, the kind who’d get hauled off to jail!
The girl looked at Shimizu Sakuya standing before her. The friendly, slightly upturned corners of her lips had sharply turned downward into a displeased frown, her eyebrows tightly knit as if anger smoldered in her eyes.
A palm was raised, and the girl willingly closed her eyes.
She could already imagine how cleanly that slap would land, how the scorching pain would spread across her cheek—the price for violating someone’s privacy.
Right now, she could only pray the red handprint wouldn’t be too obvious. Otherwise, her mother would drag her into another round of questioning when she got home, and that would be such a hassle.
But did she regret it? The girl searched her heart.
No! Even if she were slapped a thousand, ten thousand times, her choice wouldn’t change.
She would always reach for that hand—the one she’d failed to grasp on the rooftop of that building in her dream.
But unlike what she’d expected, all she felt was a slight sting on her forehead, so light it was like being tapped by a kitten’s paw.
That warm, soft hand moved to her forehead and finally delivered a gentle flick—hardly even a punishment.
Shimizu Sakuya spoke, her voice flustered and annoyed.
“Ah… really, even though you’re a girl, I still have to punish you a little. That was too much—you can’t just go around spilling other people’s secrets like that.”
“Huh? Wait, you don’t think I’m saying weird things or doing something dangerous?”
“It is all weird and dangerous, but I believe you. You seem like a good kid who doesn’t know how to lie.”
Sakuya tapped her cheek with a finger, thinking, then looked the girl up and down carefully. Suddenly realizing she still didn’t know the girl’s name, she asked.
“By the way, I still don’t know your name. Can you tell me? You already know mine, right?”
The girl hurriedly bowed and introduced herself. “Ah, yes! Shimizu Sakuya… Excuse me, I’m Natsukawa Amane from Class D, first year. Our classroom is right below yours.”
“Alright, Amane. Can you tell me why you told me all this?”
“Because I want to save you!” Amane declared firmly, pressing her right fist to her chest as if hoping her beating heart would give her courage.
“I want to pull you out of that pitch-black hell. Every night, I dream about it. I can’t sleep, I can’t rest—I’m terrified of seeing you broken like that, terrified my dreams will become reality. That’s why… that’s why I acted so strangely when I met you today.”
“You really are a good kid.”
Sakuya brushed back her hair, tousled by the evening breeze. Her ocean-blue eyes shimmered with a soft, moist glow. She patted Amane’s head and smiled—a fragile, fleeting thing, like spring blossoms already fallen or glass on the verge of shattering.
“Amane… if there ever comes a day when I’m truly trapped in an inescapable hell,” she whispered, “please grab my hand tightly and save me.”
“Okay…”
Though she answered, Amane’s pupils shrank in sudden fear.
That familiar, overwhelming sense of powerlessness surged through her again…
The memory from last night was still so vivid—her lunging forward on that towering skyscraper’s rooftop, only to grasp empty air as Sakuya fell like a butterfly with broken wings.
Her white skirt and blouse were soaked in thick blood, like a beautifully pressed crimson flower in the pages of a book.
“Amane, you haven’t had dinner yet, right?”
“Ah, no.” Snapped out of her thoughts, Amane shook her head blankly.
“I’ll treat you, but you’ll have to take me home—my home, I mean. We can talk more on the way. Tell me, what was I like in your dreams?”
……
Now, Sakuya finally understood Amane’s intentions and let out a long sigh of relief.
But with that came new questions. Why could Amane see scenes from her routes—especially the worst ones?
Clearly, before the system shut down, Amane was just an NPC, a background character. The system had erased her own memories before—had they interacted in the past?
She couldn’t remember. For now, she could only assume it was a bug caused by the system shutting down.
After all, without the system now, she was practically helpless.
The only comfort was that Amane knew where she lived, so at least she wouldn’t have to stay in a hotel.
Watching Amane, who sat primly across from her on the train, smoothing her skirt with practiced grace, Sakuya felt a surge of emotion.
A friend in need—what a good kid…
Amane pointed at a towering TV station building and explained softly, “Look, that’s the building where you work. In my dream, you were an idol adored by thousands. Last night, I saw you jump from the rooftop and… kill yourself.”
“And I saw you in a luxury villa district, holding a girl’s hand as you ran for your life.”
“Near the Tokyo government building—that glass-walled sky hotel—I saw you pressed against the window…” Amane trailed off, her face flushing with embarrassment.
Sakuya raised an eyebrow curiously. “What? Pressed against the window doing what?”
“N-Nothing, forget that part. Oh! And don’t go to the back alleys of Kabukicho in Shinjuku. There, I saw someone put a gun to your head and… well, it wasn’t good.”
“Got it. Thank you.”
Sakuya grew more and more intrigued. This NPC—no, this girl—held some crucial secret.
Many of the things she mentioned, like being pressed against glass or shot in Kabukicho, were things Sakuya had no memory of at all.
Some very important memories must have been wiped clean.
And the only thing with the authority to alter memories—the system—was shut down and couldn’t be questioned.
If the system had really deleted her most vital memories while clearing out redundant data, what was its real goal?
All the mysteries pointed back to the system. It seemed she really was caught in some deep, dark conspiracy.
For now, the best approach was to talk more with Amane over dinner and gather as much information as possible from casual conversation.
Finally, the train arrived at their stop. Amane tugged at Sakuya’s sleeve as they wove through the bustling city square, past the glittering neon of the shopping district, until they arrived at an extravagant cake shop—Wakamatsu Ginza.
Thank goodness… it’s still open.
This shop’s cream was refreshingly light, its cakes fluffy and delicate. It had been Sakuya and Amami Saori’s favorite spot for sweets.
Assuming most girls Amane’s age had a sweet tooth, Sakuya had chosen this place.
But Amane seemed reluctant to enter. Her cheeks flushed an unnatural pink as she hid behind Sakuya, stammering.
“Um… this place, it’s also kind of…”
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Sakuya patted her back reassuringly.
“Here… I saw you covered in cream, and then three…”