Epilogue

“Sorry, I can’t go out with you.”
The orange glow of the setting sun cast two shadows on the concrete below. Akatsuchi Masato, a second-year high school student, was rejecting a classmate named Kurisu on the rooftop. During lunch, this place buzzed with activity, but now, after school, it was deserted except for the two of them. That’s precisely why Masato had called her here at this time—to finally respond to her recent confession of love.
“Oh… I see…”
That was all Kurisu said in return. Yet, those few words carried a weight of emotion, evident in her expression. She was fighting back tears with all her might.
“It’s not that I dislike you or have any complaints about you. It’s just… I’m already with someone else… and she’s the one I like the most.”
“…Okay.”
Kurisu seemed to suppress her rising emotions, letting out a small sigh before settling into a calmer demeanor.
“So, it’s okay if I still like you, right?”
“Huh?”
For Masato, experiencing his first rejection, her unexpected response threw him off.
“Just because I got turned down doesn’t mean I should give up. I think there’s a chance I could steal you away.”
“S-Steal me…?”
“I’ll cheer for you and that girl. But apart from that, I can’t help feeling like I’ll take any opening I get. Maybe I’m just bad at letting go.”
“Kurisu…”
“And that’s that! See you tomorrow!”
With that, she dashed off without giving Masato a chance to reply. She flung open the door to the stairs and disappeared without looking back.
“S-Seriously…?”
Stunned, Masato watched her go.
Had rejecting her confession somehow fueled her resolve? Still, with his reason for refusal so clear, he couldn’t have left it unanswered.
“What a waste—dumping such a cute girl.”
“…?”
A voice drew his attention. Perched atop the rooftop’s water tank was a girl—or rather, his homeroom teacher, Kamina Mika, who looked like one.
(Since when…)
With a light hop, she leapt down effortlessly from several meters up, landing on the concrete. True to her divine inspiration, her mysterious physical prowess was on display.
“Eavesdropping’s a creepy hobby,” Masato complained.
“Eavesdropping? Nah, I was openly staring from here!” Kamina-sensei replied without a hint of shame.
“That’s even worse!”
Exasperated, he couldn’t help but sigh.
“…So, what do you want?”
He asked about her purpose directly.
“Oh, I wanted to ask you something. Akatsuchi… you didn’t ‘use’ it, did you?”
The unspoken “what” hung in the air, but Masato understood her intent.
“…Yeah, I didn’t use it, ‘Fix-it Mika-chan.’”
Indeed, Masato hadn’t used “Fix-it Mika-chan” on Midoriha. In other words, he hadn’t patched the bug. Midoriha had merely used her bug again to restore humanity, leaving the bug itself intact.
“Figures… Why not?”
“Didn’t see the need. Midoriha promised never to use it again. If that’s the case, I figured there’s no point forcing it to fit the ‘intended design’—or ‘normalcy.’”
He’d already patched everyone else, but he wondered if Midoriha even needed it in the first place.
“I see.”
“…You’re not mad?”
“The real issue is the bug causing ‘endless modifications.’ If that’s not a concern, we’re fine with it.”
“Is that how it works…? So the ‘experiment’ is a success?”
“Yeah, the higher-ups ruled it so. Congrats, I guess. Though, don’t expect any rewards—hoping for that’s pointless.”
“I wasn’t expecting any from the start.”
Still, being dragged into this without a sense of accomplishment—only an unenthusiastic “congrats” from the teacher—felt a bit unfair.
“But if that unpatched bug causes more changes, we’ll step in to fix it immediately. You get what that means, right?”
“Yeah…”
In other words, if Midoriha used her bug again to wipe out humanity, only the bug would be fixed—leaving people gone, forcing them into a creation myth scenario for real.
“I’ll be careful.”
“Do that.”
Then Masato brought up something he’d been meaning to ask. Something he’d planned to raise the next time they met.
“…And Sensei.”
“What?”
“You knew from the start, didn’t you?”
“About what?”
Kamina-sensei likely knew what he meant but played dumb. She had no intention of volunteering the answer—classic teacher move.
“That there were two ‘bug holders’… no, you even knew their identities, didn’t you?”
“Oh? What makes you think that?”
“Mostly a hunch. You can create ‘Fix-it Mika-chan’ to patch bugs or ‘Tell-me Mika-chan’ to list missing people and track everyone’s locations, yet you couldn’t identify the ‘bug holders’? That doesn’t add up.”
At that, Kamina-sensei burst out laughing, clutching her stomach.
“Hahaha! Fair point! Good understanding—or rather, a great interpretation! Yep, we knew everything from the start.”
“Figures. For the experiment?”
“Exactly. Sorry for keeping it quiet.”
“The second ‘bug holder’—Midoriha using her bug while you didn’t answer the phone—was that deliberate for the experiment too?”
“Uh? Oh, that…”
Unexpectedly, the teacher faltered.
“Akatsuchi Masato. That was because Kamina Mika was slacking off.”
A third voice cut in.
Masato turned toward the sound. By the rooftop fence stood Otomo-san—or rather, Otomo Mika, exuding a cold aura.
“Ugh, Otomo Mika,” Kamina-sensei groaned.
These “developers” always appeared out of nowhere, without a trace. Was it some kind of quota?
“‘Slacking off’—what’s that mean?”
“Simply put, she was too absorbed in a video game and ignored your call, Akatsuchi Masato.”
“Hey, you delinquent teacher,” Masato said, giving her a withering look.
“C-Can’t help it! The story’s cutscene was at a crazy cliffhanger—I couldn’t look away!”
“At least switch gears when a ‘bug holder’ causes a modification!”
“Yeah…”
“I agree with Akatsuchi Masato.”
“What the—both of you ganging up on me?! …Wait, don’t tell me Otomo Mika came here because—”
“Yes. There’s a ‘discussion’ ordered from above.”
“Ugh…”
At Otomo Mika’s words, his expression darkened.
“Self-inflicted,” Otomo Mika remarked, and Masato nodded beside her.
“…Tch, whatever. I’m used to it anyway.”
“No, getting used to it isn’t a good thing…”
For her, a reprimand from above likely meant little more than, “Ugh, less private gaming time—lame.”
Masato then pulled his smartphone from his pocket and glanced at the screen.
“Oh, it’s already this late. Well, I’m heading out.”
As usual, he was about to head to Midoriha’s place.
“To your girlfriend’s? Ooh-la-la!”
Kamina-sensei teased with a whistle. Despite being a “teacher” while at school, she showed no trace of it.
“Old man, much… Anyway, Otomo-san, see you.”
“Yes, until next time.”
Masato waved lightly to them and turned to leave.
As he walked, he glanced again at his smartphone’s lock screen, a faint smile of relief crossing his face. This time, his focus wasn’t on the clock but the photo set there—not “Fix-it Mika-chan,” but a simple camera app shot of Midoriha. Taken yesterday morning after their second kiss.
Honestly, even as his girlfriend, Midoriha hadn’t changed much—no sudden end to her reclusive habits or anything dramatic. She still had no interest in going outside, her curtains remained shut, and if anything, her dependence on Masato seemed to have grown since they started dating. None of the typical growth arcs from creative stories applied.
But still, that’s fine, Masato thought.
“Her smile’s not just normal—it’s the best in the world.”
In the photo, she wore her favorite pure white dress, striking a peace sign toward the camera with a bright, delicate smile—like the time they’d posed with a mascot at an amusement park.
(End)