Chapter: 16. Continuing Her Life
Nighttime.
The sound of rain gently tapping against the window, a slow and steady rhythm, resembles a familiar breathing sound.
This is the operations center of the “Special Operations Team for the End,” located in a coastal city near the Moon Academy.
Kanade sits at a desk in the corner of the room, slowly opening a plain and worn-out notebook—one that Nagi had once left for him.
He is writing in the blank pages at the back of the notebook.
This has become one of the habits Kanade developed after receiving these notebooks from Hoshigami Sayaka.
He has been doing this for three years now.
He writes about everything that happens each day, no matter how trivial it may seem—what he had for lunch, which report he processed, or simply the changes in the sky, fragments of dreams.
And he always manages to document one or two things that make him feel happy and optimistic.
Unbeknownst to him, his handwriting has become as neat and beautiful as that of the notebook’s original owner, as if that girl continues to record her day in this notebook every day.
Though Kanade knows this is just self-deception, he still hopes to continue the life of the girl who is no longer in this world in this way.
What is recorded is not just his day, but each day he wishes to have spent with her. Although he cannot see her smile or hear her voice, when everything turns into words, landing on this notebook that symbolizes her life, he feels as if she is still by his side, gently accompanying him.
At the same time, this is a dialogue with that girl—these words transcend time and space, life and death.
The room is not brightly lit; only a yellow-white desk lamp casts a quiet glow over him and the diary.
The sound of rain is muffled by the curtains and window glass, and it feels as if the world consists only of him and this diary.
This is the moment Kanade feels the most at peace.
For the past three years, he has not been able to forget the girl he loves most, the one who has carried his entire life; now it is his turn to carry her life.
Kanade finishes the last word, caps the pen, and gently closes the notebook.
His movements are slow, as if afraid of disturbing the beautiful dreams of that girl.
“Goodnight, little Nagi. Today’s world is also very beautiful,” Kanade softly whispers as he gently strokes the cover of the diary.
Just then.
“Knock, knock.”
The light sound taps against the door, interrupting the rhythm of the rain.
A golden light flashes in Kanade’s eyes, the ability of his extraordinary object is activated, and a folded space unfolds before him. He carefully places the diary inside.
At the same time, the gentle expression on his face vanishes along with the notebook.
A cold and restrained look returns to his face.
“Come in.”
The door opens, revealing the vice-captain of the team, a tall man with conspicuous short dyed blonde hair. He is around the same age as Kanade, likely a peer, but compared to Kanade’s reserved and elegant aura, this vice-captain appears more like a carefree party-loving pretty boy.
His name is Honda Juro, also a native Japanese like Kanade.
“Captain, here’s the report on those targets you asked me to investigate earlier.” Juro hands Kanade a device that resembles a tablet. On the screen, several names and their corresponding brief profiles are displayed.
These are the members of the special SEAMA ability user team who survived the blood moon incident in Tokyo.
“They voluntarily submitted their resignations, and SEAMA Headquarters agreed to transfer them from the combat frontlines to support roles, considering the disaster they experienced. According to these files, they are just a very ordinary ability user team, with no particular distinctions.”
As Juro reports, his curiosity gets the better of him, and he asks, “Why do you want to investigate them, Captain?”
Kanade does not respond directly to Juro’s question.
He does not intend to inform his team about the potential traitor within SEAMA; it is not a matter of mistrust, but speaking out might lead to bigger troubles.
“Do you think they might be in danger?”
Upon hearing this, Juro’s expression instantly becomes alert: “Captain, do you think they could be infected?”
Infected.
This term has become very sensitive within SEAMA and the three major academies.
The incident in Kawano City three years ago, involving fragments of the End, caused quite a stir—especially when you know that everyone around you could potentially be an incarnation of the End, and even you might be controlled by it.
Panic spreads uncontrollably.
Before the “vaccine” was developed, it can be said that no ability user within SEAMA or the three major academies could sleep soundly.
Even now, with vaccines available that resist the End, such fear still lurks in people’s hearts.
“No… it’s that they might be in danger; I need you to monitor them.”
“But they are regular personnel from SEAMA, and our special operations team has no reason to secretly monitor an internal regular team, unless—” Juro’s voice trails off.
This has been suggested several times before, but according to protocol, it must be stated by Kanade.
Because, in this world, he is the only individual who cannot be tainted by the End.
Therefore, only he is “absolutely innocent.”
“Ah, use the excuse of ‘suspecting they are infected’ to exercise special execution authority, and monitor them,” Kanade says.
“Being infected,” or “suspected of being infected,” is a universal and dominant reason for this special operations team. By using this reasoning, the team instantly gains the authority to act beyond the limits of various organizations, ignoring rules, processes, and restrictions until the “infection incident” is resolved.
This is the dictatorship unique to Kanade, born out of people’s fear of the End three years ago.
Before the vaccine was released, someone sitting in this position could decide another’s innocence with just a word—no one could prove whether they were infected or not.
To some extent, this power is one reason why Kanade received higher support than the other two S-class ability users; after all, just imagine what it would feel like to have such unreasonable power used against yourself. That fear would compel everyone to believe that the person they support is a true hero, a wise ruler.
And Kanade indeed accomplished that.
From beginning to end, he has never used this power to do anything against justice or goodness; perhaps the guidance of that girl has always influenced him.
Sometimes he may use this reasoning to efficiently complete certain actions, but the true motives behind them are always to protect or save them.
Everyone in this special operations team knows this, so they are completely loyal to Kanade, their captain.
“Alright, I understand.” Juro takes the device back from Kanade.
The formal conversation comes to a pause here.
In a casual atmosphere, Juro cannot help but ask, “By the way, Captain, are you really planning to go to the Star Academy?”
