Episode4

Back at the small apartment the orphanage arranged for scholarship students, Akira lay awake, ceiling fan shadows circling above like silent vultures. Memories pressed close: Mio’s laugh, Shou’s hand on her thigh, the chill of an empty funeral parlor. Over all of it, Tatsuya’s broken confession:

> “Because I love you, Akira. I always did.”

He covered his eyes with a trembling arm. Tears slid into his hairline—grief for a future that wouldn’t happen, gratitude for a past undone.

“I won’t waste this life,” he whispered to the dark. “I’ll protect him. I’ll save myself. I’ll make it right.”

Outside, the city hummed, unaware that history had quietly cracked open along a single boy’s heartbeat.

Tomorrow, the game would truly begin.

The school courtyard buzzed louder than usual that morning. Posters waved on bulletin boards, voices echoed through corridors, and bright banners flapped in the spring breeze.

“Join our club! Free snacks on Wednesdays!”

“Wanna build robots? Tech Club’s open!”

“I heard the Photography Club has their own darkroom!”

Akira smiled faintly, stepping through the crowd of enthusiastic seniors and curious first-years. The energy was identical to his first time here—but this time, his heart was different.

In his past life, he'd joined the same club as Mio, thinking it was destiny when she encouraged him with that sugary smile. A cultural club that sounded fun but drained his money and time on events he never enjoyed—because she barely looked his way once he was there.

He stopped in front of the same club poster now. Flower Arrangement and Cultural Arts. Bright, elegant font. Mio’s touch.

He stared at it for a moment. Then he turned away.

> This time, I’m not chasing her. I’m building myself.

---

Akira made his way to the second floor, remembering what Tatsuya had told him the day before about the festival volunteers’ sign-up near the science wing.

Then he saw it—

A quiet table tucked beside the stairwell. No shouting. No balloons. Just a single clipboard and a clean, minimal poster that read:

---

📍 Survival & Strategy Club

*Challenge Your Mind. Sharpen Your Focus. Lead Your Life.

Recruiting members. Open to all years.

---

There was something about the clean design. No flash. No bait. Just purpose.

Akira tilted his head. I don’t remember this club before.

He wasn’t sure what pushed him toward the clipboard. His hand moved before his thoughts did.

Maybe a club like this… could help me grow stronger.

He signed.

“Survival & Strategy?” a boy nearby muttered. “Sounds intense.”

“Isn’t that the club led by that quiet guy? What’s his name again? Kuro… something?”

Akira’s pen slipped. His heart jumped.

Kurobane.

His breath hitched. He looked back at the poster.

This is Tatsuya’s club.

He blinked once. Twice. Of all the clubs…

A part of him wanted to laugh. The old Akira would’ve seen this as a joke from fate. But now, it felt like something else entirely.

Maybe this is where I was meant to be all along.

---

✦ After School: Clubroom 3-E

The classroom-turned-clubroom was tucked at the end of the hallway, behind a half-jammed door with a simple brass plate: “Club 3-E.” Akira hesitated, hand on the knob.

Inside, the room was surprisingly neat. Desks pushed into strategic formations, a corkboard filled with maps, logic puzzles, and game theory diagrams. It looked like a war room built by honor students.

There were only three people inside.

And at the center, standing tall in front of the whiteboard with a marker in hand, was Tatsuya.

He looked up the moment Akira stepped in. Their eyes locked.

Tatsuya blinked once, his sharp, grey gaze flickering from surprise to recognition.

“You…” His voice was low, controlled, but Akira heard the subtle hitch of surprise. “You joined?”

Akira opened his mouth, then nodded. “Yeah. I, um… I signed up this morning.”

One of the other members—an underclassman—looked between them and smirked. “First time I’ve seen our president react to anything.”

Tatsuya coughed lightly and turned back to the board. “We’re planning the first training game next week. You can observe today.”

Akira stepped into the room and took a seat. His heart was still racing, but not with fear. Not with regret.

With… warmth.

There was something oddly comforting about seeing Tatsuya here—not glaring, not weeping, not shooting anyone in grief. Just… leading. Confident. Focused.

He’s in his element, Akira thought. This is the real him.

And he hadn’t seen it—any of it—in his past life.

As Tatsuya outlined the week’s strategy activities—problem-solving tasks, field logic games, even outdoor planning—Akira watched silently, a soft smile playing at his lips.

He remembered how he’d always thought of Tatsuya as cold, distant… interfering.

Now he saw the truth in the way Tatsuya encouraged the younger members, the subtle praise he gave, the way his eyes softened when someone got something right.

He was always watching. Always guiding.

And Akira never once turned his head to see.

Until now.

---

✦ After the Meeting

“Thanks for today,” Akira said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Tatsuya stood near the board, erasing the last of the diagrams. He paused.

“You really joined?”

Akira nodded. “Yeah. I wanted something different. Something useful.”

A quiet beat passed between them.

Tatsuya didn’t smile, but something in his face relaxed. “I think it’ll suit you.”

> You have no idea how much I need this. Akira wanted to say that out loud, but kept it in his chest for now.