{ THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW }

Finally, Hanabi found herself standing before Room 715 once again. Her heart raced—but not for the usual reason this time. She stood silently, barely able to wait for the door to open. She wanted to rescue him, no matter what.

"Are you sure, Taniyama-sensei?" Sonozaki asked, his tone laced with concern. "You've been handling so much these past few weeks. Why not let us take this one? You should rest once in a while."

"Don't worry about me," Taniyama replied, his voice calm yet resolute. "Besides, I want to handle this personally. There are things I need to see for myself—for the sake of the experiment, of course."

Toyoshima patted Sonozaki's shoulder. "Let's just let him do his thing. This psychology stuff ain't my cup of tea anyway," he said.

Sonozaki let out a soft sigh and a faint chuckle, grateful for his reliable colleague. "Seriously, Taniyama-sensei..."

Taniyama felt a small measure of relief when the two walked away, leaving him alone with the two children and the escort.

Taniyama bent down, lowering himself to Hanabi’s eye level. "As promised, behind this door is 715," he said quietly.

Hanabi nodded, determination flickering in her dark eyes. It mixed strangely with the emptiness in them, creating a bizarre contrast.

Taniyama continued, his tone steady and patient, like a teacher giving a final warning before an exam. "You’ve seen it yourself, haven’t you? His ability is unstable. He’s learning to control it, but it’s still dangerous. One mistake, and it could take lives. That’s why we have to be careful. Do you understand?"

Hanabi nodded again without hesitation.

Taniyama straightened up, casting her one last glance before pressing the button beside the door.

And there he was.

Sitting quietly in a chair, unmoving and unbothered by anything beyond his purpose.

Hanabi's eyes widened as their gazes met. She had been so eager to see him again, yet now, standing before him, all her planned thoughts and words suddenly vanished, as if swept away in an instant. She might have cursed herself under her breath if she knew how, but instead, she felt a subtle warmth on her cheeks and a twist in her stomach. She didn't understand what that feeling meant—it wasn't exactly unpleasant, but it was utterly foreign to her.

With nothing left to do, she bowed deeply and closed her eyes tightly. "H-Hello!" she managed to say.

715 scanned the three figures that had just entered—the group included Taniyama and the other two. After a few seconds of silent pondering, he remembered meeting them two months ago. He didn't respond to the girl's greeting, nor did he question why they were there. It wasn't that he didn't care; he couldn't.

Taniyama then spoke up, addressing him directly, "715, do you remember who this girl is?"

The boy answered, "Yes, the Hanabi."

Taniyama shook his head and stepped closer. "Not 'the Hanabi,' but 'she'—Hanabi," he corrected. "She has something to tell you, so listen carefully, okay?" Taniyama said, stepping aside to reveal Hanabi standing restlessly by the doorway.

What did she even want to say? Perhaps she had forgotten. Still, she stepped closer to him, and then she let it go—she decided to simply remember as they went along. For now, she was just glad to be there, to see him.

"How have you been, 715?" she asked with a faint smile.

"715 is in good condition," he replied, his gaze unbroken.

Hanabi chuckled lightly. "That's great. I'm always in good condition." Knowing he wouldn’t respond, she pressed on, "How is Absolute Effector doing?"

"The Absolute Effector is deactivated," he answered.

"I see..."

Taniyama and Natsukawa watched silently as the two spoke. The boy's face and movements were as emotionless as ever—it was almost eerie to witness a fellow human acting so void of feeling. Natsukawa noted with grim certainty that he had been truly stripped of his humanity.

But what they were oblivious to was obvious to Hanabi. She hadn’t known the strangeness of the connection between them, but she saw beyond his empty stare. Something about it crushed her heart. He wasn’t a robot. He was a human being—designed to behave like one. They claimed he had no desires, They believed he had no emotions, but she knew for sure, that was plainly and utterly wrong.

Hanabi cleared her throat and spoke, "I normally wouldn't be allowed to come and meet you," she said, glancing at Taniyama, "but thankfully, Taniyama-sensei helped me."

715 shifted his gaze from Taniyama back to Hanabi. His expression remained unreadable, he said nothing.

Hanabi continued, her voice soft yet insistent. "Do you have a favorite food?"

"I'm confused," he replied. It was the standard response he’d been taught for moments he couldn’t understand—usually when discussing calculations.

"A food that you like, you know? Mine’s chocolate," she offered.

"I don't have a favorite food."

"Then what about color?" she pressed. "What's your favorite one?"

"I don't have a favorite color."

"Mine is yellow," she said with a small smile. "Especially bright ones—just like the fireworks in that magazine. They really light up the dark sky."

Taniyama and Natsukawa continued to observe in silence. Hanabi’s noticeable change in demeanor had left them speechless. But even now, they still couldn’t read 715. Their mundane, trivial conversation drifted on until it was finally time for Hanabi to go home.

With a smile, Hanabi waved goodbye to 715, her small hand lingering in the air for a moment before dropping back to her side.

————

The next morning came, and once again, she didn’t hesitate to step into the lab. The cold sterility of the room no longer unsettled her. She braced herself for the pain, and somehow, the blades didn’t hurt as much as they used to. The scent of blood, thick and metallic, barely made her flinch now. Day after day, she endured. And in between it all, she kept meeting with 715 under Natsukawa and Taniyama’s quiet, watchful supervision.

[ Three months later ]

Taniyama, Natsukawa, and Hanabi arrived at Room 715, only to find Toyoshima and Sonozaki already inside.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“W-What are you doing here?” Taniyama asked, his voice laced with surprise.

Toyoshima turned to him, his expression unreadable. “Just an interview. I need to submit a report tomorrow,” he replied.

"I-I see..." Taniyama responded, his voice trembling ever so slightly. In the dim light of the room, Toyoshima stood up while Sonozaki scribbled notes.

"So," Toyoshima began, breaking the silence, "how's the plan going?" His tone was friendly yet something about it unsettled Taniyama.

Taniyama swallowed hard, the dry taste of anxiety in his mouth, and replied, "It's going well so far," his words measured as he tried to hide his nervousness.

Toyoshima leaned in, his eyes reflecting the harsh fluorescent glow overhead. "You sure you don't need any help with this? Doing it every day must be exhausting," he pressed, his voice sounding innocent—but Taniyama couldn’t shake the unsettling chill that ran down his spine.

A small, forced chuckle escaped Taniyama. "I volunteered for this, don't worry about me," he said, trying to mask the tremor in his tone.

"Hmmm," Toyoshima murmured, his gaze lingering on Taniyama’s eyes. "Well, it's not just you I'm worried about, actually."

Taniyama fixed his eyes on him, determined not to reveal even a hint of his inner turmoil. He knew that if Toyoshima, so perceptive and sharp, caught even a glimpse of his uncertainty—it could unravel everything.

"Don't worry, everything is fine," he ultimately said.

Toyoshima stared at him for a few seconds, then tapped him on the shoulder and walked past, with Sonozaki trailing behind. "Well, I'll trust you," he added. "You, more than anyone, know what's at stake here."

And they left.

What Toyoshima had said was true. Only he truly knew the dangers and risks involved in this decision.

He was supposed to manipulate the children—that was what his colleagues had entrusted him to do.

"You liar," Natsukawa murmured quietly, careful not to disturb the two children talking in peace. "Are you sure about this?"

He exhaled deeply, a weight in his chest. "It's about time we atoned."

Natsukawa fell silent as he watched the two children. He had never seen Hanabi this cheerful—not even on those rare occasions when her parents took her out to see the sky. He’d thought he would never understand such innocence, but as he observed 715 growing more human each day, he began to grasp what Hanabi was trying to say.

"T-T-That sounds so fun!!!" Hanabi exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've never been on a boat before!"

"The facility has bigger boats, but they only let me use the smallest one," 715 replied. Taniyama recalled a time when he didn’t even understand the concept of self. But now, here he was, engaged in a full-fledged conversation with another human being. "Because I'm small myself."

Hanabi laughed—a sound that was not the empty, forced giggle she used at home when her parents praised her. It was loud. And free. A genuine burst of joy—perhaps amusement. "Maybe they'll let us use a bigger one if we ride together. We'll need it, right?" she said enthusiastically.

"I don't think so," 715 replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "By my estimations, you weigh about fifteen kilograms. The atomic bomb was way heavier than that, yet they still made me board beside it."

"Atomic bomb? What's that?" Hanabi tilted her head, curiosity replacing her initial excitement.

"A device that explodes."

"Like a firework?"

"No, it's way stronger than a firework."

"That sounds amazing."

"You think so?"

Silence hung in the air. Hanabi didn’t answer right away, and for the first time, 715 wondered if something was wrong. The thought itself was strange—he had never questioned things like this before. Just as he was about to ask, she spoke again.

"Hey, 715," she began, her voice quieter this time. He listened. "Taniyama-sensei always leaves after your experiments are over, doesn’t he?"

"Yes."

"You're always alone in this room then? At night."

"Yes."

Taniyama shifted his gaze to the floor, while Natsukawa looked away. The air grew heavier, but Hanabi didn’t stop.

"Are you okay with that?"

"It doesn't affect my ability," he answered simply, his voice devoid of emotion, as if that was the only thing that mattered.

Hanabi leaned in, her gaze unwavering. "Don't you feel lonely?" she asked.

For a moment, 715 said nothing. His eyes flickered with something unreadable, but it faded just as quickly. "I don't know," he finally responded. "I don't even know why we're spending time having these conversations."

Hanabi didn’t falter. "Don't you wish for someone to stay with you at night? Don't you wish to keep spending time with me?"

Another pause. This time, his silence felt heavier, as if he were sifting through something unfamiliar. Then, he took a slow breath.

"I don't understand what it means to wish for something," he said. "I don't understand."

Hanabi grabbed his hands. 715 stared at her, the warmth of her hands unfamiliar yet not unwelcome. He didn't pull away.

"When you wake up, what goes through your mind?" Hanabi pressed, her voice trembling slightly. "Are you looking forward to your experiments? And when the day is over, what are you going home for? What are you looking forward to for tomorrow?"

Her questions came fast, relentless, carrying a quiet kind of pain.

"To wish for something, something that'll make you happy, is loving yourself," she declared, her grip tightening as if afraid he would slip away.

715 listened, his mind working through her words.

Hanabi lowered her gaze. "I want to make my parents happy. That’s my wish. So I endure every day." Her voice was small now, distant, before she lifted her eyes to his once more. "What are you doing all of this for?"

Hanabi's fingers twitched against his, but she didn't let go.

715 had used all his might to come to a conclusion, to grasp at something that would serve as an answer. But no matter how hard he searched, his mind remained empty. What was his reason for doing what he did? Did he even need one? What did it mean to want something? And if he didn’t understand that, how could he ever understand himself?

The harder he tried, the more the questions multiplied, slipping through his grasp like sand. A problem he could never comprehend, let alone solve.

His voice was steady, but there was something fragile beneath it.

"I don’t know."

Hanabi’s words stuck with him even after she let go of his hands. “You need to love yourself.” He didn’t understand what that meant, but for some reason, he kept thinking about it.

Days passed, and their meetings became part of his routine. What started as an anomaly was now normal, something he expected. Every day, Hanabi talked to him about things he’d never thought about before—things like wishes, happiness, and the idea of looking forward to something. He still didn’t get it, but Hanabi seemed convinced that he was changing.

And then, after months of testing and research, the day finally came.

Phase Five was about to begin.

Toyoshima stirred his coffee, the rich, bitter aroma filling the office. He liked it strong—it helped him wake up. “Everything’s been going smoothly lately,” he said, glancing at Taniyama, who was gathering his things for the lab. “If this experiment succeeds, our research will finally be complete.”

Taniyama nodded, slipping a few folders into his bag. “That’s right.”

Toyoshima leaned back with a chuckle. “It’s still crazy to think about—we’re on the verge of creating the first Quantum Mechanic Control device, all thanks to the Absolute Effector. This could change everything.” He took a sip of his coffee, savoring the thought. “With this, even commercial teleportation could become a reality.”

"That all sounds great," Taniyama said, grabbing his laptop and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He glanced at Toyoshima. "But in the end, it’s the big boss who decides what to do with all this power."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Toyoshima let out a quiet sigh, swirling the coffee in his cup before taking another sip. "Yeah... almost forgot about that," he muttered. He pushed himself up from his chair, still holding his mug. "Well, at least we got to witness the birth of a new natural law."

With that, they set out to pick up 715. The hallway was silent except for the faint hum of fluorescent lights. But as they approached the door to his room, they noticed someone already standing there.

"Sonozaki?" Toyoshima called out.

Sonozaki turned slowly, his expression grim.

"I... have bad news," Sonozaki muttered, his voice low.

Toyoshima and Taniyama stopped in their tracks.

"What's wrong?" Toyoshima asked, his tone laced with worry.

Sonozaki hesitated, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. "I-It's 715... he..." His voice trailed off before he finally forced the words out. "He says he doesn’t want to go."

Toyoshima’s eyes widened. Slowly, he turned to Taniyama, expecting some kind of explanation. But Taniyama didn’t meet his gaze. He stood still, his face unreadable, staring into nothingness.

The silence was suffocating. Then, without another word, Toyoshima pushed past them and rushed inside the room.

The boy sat there, unmoving, just like always. But something was off. Toyoshima felt it immediately. This wasn’t the same obedient machine they had molded.

"Stand up. Head to the lab," he ordered, his voice firm and clear.

715 met his gaze, unflinching. "I want to go somewhere else."

Toyoshima’s brows furrowed. The words felt wrong—like a glitch in a system that had never failed before. "You’re making an error. What you’re thinking is a mistake." His voice was sharper now, demanding. "Stand up and head to the lab."

"No."

Toyoshima clenched his fists, his patience cracking. A slow, seething anger boiled beneath his skin as he turned toward the doorway. Taniyama stood there, silent, unreadable. "What the fuck did you do?"

Taniyama stepped further into the room, stopping beside Toyoshima. His eyes met 715’s. "Where do you want to go?"

"To Hanabi."

Toyoshima’s grip tightened as he grabbed Taniyama’s shoulder, yanking him around to face him. "I’m talking to you," he hissed, fury burning in his eyes. "I trusted you, Taniyama."

Sonozaki stepped in next, his face pale with disbelief. "Taniyama-sensei… why…?"

Taniyama lowered his gaze, silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, but heavy. "It’s about time we stop this madness."

"Madness?" Toyoshima’s hands shot up, grabbing his collar. "You fucking dragged me into this!" His voice shook with rage, his grip trembling.

"And I have to pull you out," Taniyama shot back.

"Pull us out?" Toyoshima repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. "You fool! This will get us killed!"

"You've become a monster, Toyoshima. Don’t you see? You tried to strip someone of their humanity, and you ended up losing your own!"

Toyoshima's fist connected with Taniyama’s face before he could react. The impact sent him crashing to the floor.

"You’re naive, Taniyama," Toyoshima muttered, shaking his head. "If you want to die, fine. But don’t drag me down with you." He turned toward the door, his decision already made. "I’m reporting this. Maybe they’ll spare me if I do. Farewell, Doctor Taniyama." he said before walking out.

Sonozaki hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes—but in the end, he followed.

Silence settled over the room as Taniyama remained on the floor where he had fallen. He wiped the blood from his mouth, his fingers trembling slightly. Then, he heard 715 speak.

"What is happening?" the boy asked, confusion lacing his usually steady voice.

Taniyama looked up at him, exhaustion heavy in his gaze. The boy had changed. His hair had grown out slightly—months had passed since they last cut it. But more than that, his eyes were different. They weren’t empty anymore.

"You wanted to see Hanabi, right?" Taniyama asked.

"Yes," 715 replied without hesitation.

"She’s in a lab right now," Taniyama continued, shifting as he pushed himself up. "You’ve seen her ability, haven’t you?" He dusted off his pants.

"Yes."

"She’s immortal. That means no matter what happens, she can’t die." Taniyama grabbed a chair and sat in front of him, his voice steady but grim. "Do you know what experiment she’s undergoing?"

715 shook his head.

"They kill her," Taniyama said, his tone calm but heavy. "Over and over again."

715’s eyes narrowed. “She’s fine with that?”

Taniyama shook his head. “No. It’s painful. It’s something she shouldn’t have to go through. But she has no choice,” he said. “They’re forcing her, even though she doesn’t want to.”

715 sat in silence, processing. He had never considered something like this before. He had no real concept of justice or anger—those emotions didn’t exist within him. But something about this didn’t make sense.

She didn’t want to do it, so why did they make her? Why did they ignore her decision when she was the one feeling the pain?

“I’m... confused,” he admitted.

Taniyama nodded. “I know,” he said. “And you should be confused—because what they’re doing is wrong.”

“It’s... wrong?” 715 echoed.

“But it can be corrected. We can help her. We can make the pain stop.” Taniyama extended his hand, his eyes burning with determination. “715, will you trust me? I need your help to fix the mistakes I’ve made.”

715 stared at the outstretched hand. He knew what Taniyama wanted—his ability. Because that was the only thing he was ever useful for. He didn’t have all the answers, but Taniyama was the reason he and Hanabi had been able to meet. And if this was about helping her, about stopping the pain she never asked for, then there was no reason to refuse.

He reached out and took Taniyama’s hand.

[ To be continued ]