Within the black-and-white world, a tall girl stood perfectly straight, the muzzle of her handgun pressed against the forehead of a boy seated at his desk.
She looked down at him with a commanding, intimidating gaze.
As for the boy…
The boy lowered his head.
Despite having a gun pointed at him, he reached up and forcefully pinched his own cheek.
“Hiss—! That hurts!! So time really has stopped, and there really is a gun pressed against my head!”
The sudden, intense pain instantly jolted his somewhat dazed mind back into full awareness after the collapse of his sensory illusion.
Raising his head, Makoto looked at Homura Akemi, who had once again adopted a stern expression.
He felt as though he were being enveloped by an overwhelming sense of absurdity.
If it weren’t for the fact that his ability was fundamentally incapable of accomplishing something like this, he would have begun suspecting that the world he currently inhabited wasn’t real at all.
Perhaps his ability had gone completely out of control, and he had become utterly immersed in a virtual reality of his own creation.
However, after that initial moment of disbelief…
Rather than fear, a strange sense of excitement began bubbling up within Makoto’s heart.
Makoto Tsukimi: “Your clothes suddenly changed? Don’t tell me… are you some kind of magical girl?”
Homura Akemi: “I’m the one asking questions here. Who are you?”
She made no attempt to answer Makoto’s question.
Having regained her composure, the girl kept her gaze firmly fixed on him.
Although her suspicions toward him had diminished somewhat, there were still questions that needed to be answered.
At that moment, Homura deliberately lowered her voice, maintaining a cold expression while doing her best to appear intimidating.
If the boy named Makoto Tsukimi failed to provide an answer that satisfied her, she intended to pull the trigger without hesitation.
After all…
Homura Akemi was no longer a magical girl who had never killed a “person.”
Before she even realized it, her hands had already been stained with blood.
And the first human being she had ever killed was none other than her best friend, Madoka Kaname.
Homura Akemi: “You shouldn’t be here. I’ve never seen you before.”
The cold-looking girl did her best to maintain a stern expression as she explained her reasoning.
Makoto Tsukimi: “…”
You know, suddenly saying something like that without any context is pretty weird.
He silently raised his head and looked at Homura.
Because the handgun was pressed directly against his forehead, Makoto could clearly feel something through the point of contact between the weapon and his skin.
The hand Homura was using to hold the gun was trembling.
With a single glance, Makoto could practically see through the girl’s intimidating facade.
Despite her fierce expression and threatening words, she was nowhere near as composed as she was pretending to be.
She must be pretty nervous herself right now.
Of course, being nervous didn’t mean she wouldn’t pull the trigger.
In fact, her current state might make her even more dangerous.
If Makoto made any excessive movements, he might provoke an instinctive reaction from her.
One careless mistake, and the bullet in that gun could end his life.
Looking at the girl threatening him from such a close distance, Makoto thought for a moment before adjusting his mindset and tone of voice.
Makoto Tsukimi: “I’ll answer your questions seriously, but isn’t it a little strange to say things like that without any context? Homura, you should at least tell me why you think I shouldn’t be here. Then I can give you an explanation.”
Perhaps because he was so accustomed to using Sensory Manipulation to imagine all kinds of scenarios, Makoto didn’t feel much of a sense of reality about Homura Akemi’s sudden confrontation.
Makoto Tsukimi: “So, Homura, are you some kind of special envoy sent by the will of the planet to eliminate beings like me? Does this world actually have mysterious powers on that kind of grand scale?”
A person who shouldn’t exist in this world, whose mere presence was enough to make others wary.
Makoto wasn’t particularly surprised by the way she described him.
After all, he was a transmigrator.
Being called someone who shouldn’t exist in this world was perfectly reasonable.
What interested him more at the moment was the identity of the long-haired girl standing before him.
After all, the fact that she was questioning him instead of immediately attacking meant there was still room for negotiation.
It certainly wouldn’t hurt to gather more information.
Homura Akemi: “…?”
The cold-looking girl frowned slightly.
His words were so far removed from reality that she felt an even greater sense of distance between them.
Homura Akemi: “The will of the planet? Tsukimi, what are you talking about?”
How should she put it?
The things he was saying actually sounded strangely familiar.
The boys in her class who were going through their chuunibyou phase often said similarly incomprehensible things during their conversations.
In fact, they were hardly any less ridiculous than Makoto.
Is he the type of person who’s always spouting strange terminology?
Perhaps because the label of chuunibyou seemed so harmless, Homura’s vigilance toward Makoto instinctively decreased even further.
However, even though she was gradually becoming more relaxed internally, she showed none of it on her face.
After all, the greatest problem remained the fact that he shouldn’t exist here in the first place.
What if even Makoto himself was unaware that he was actually one of Kyubey’s backup plans?
Homura Akemi: “I know what events are supposed to happen at this point in time, and I know which people are supposed to be here. You’re someone who shouldn’t exist in this place.”
She explained the reason for her actions and pressed the handgun a little more firmly against Makoto’s forehead.
Homura Akemi: “Now it’s your turn to explain.”
Makoto Tsukimi: “Then, Homura, how exactly do you expect me to explain my own existence? I’ve been attending this school for quite a long time. Not to brag, but thanks to my special ability, I’m actually a little famous around here. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Kaname about it afterward.”
As he spoke, he pointed toward Madoka Kaname nearby.
Makoto had never made any particular effort to conceal his Sensory Manipulation ability or the strange conditions he experienced at random moments.
It wasn’t really something he could hide anyway.
After all, Makoto was someone who might suddenly start talking to empty air, mistake a car for an enormous cat, or perceive ordinary people as animals walking upright in human form.
As long as he interacted with other people, there was practically no way to conceal his condition.
Fortunately, his condition itself wasn’t particularly dangerous.
At worst, whenever someone told him something important, they would have to ask him to repeat it to make sure he hadn’t misheard.
Furthermore, Makoto’s emotional intelligence was reasonably good.
These days, he had even begun occupying a role somewhat similar to that of a priest within the school.
Superstitious boys and girls would frequently approach him for fortune-telling, asking what kinds of scenes he could see when he relaxed his control over his senses and entered his unusual state.
He had even become something of a beloved mascot among the students of the Supernatural Research Club.
After all, these were young boys and girls still at an age when they were somewhat naive and prone to grandiose fantasies.
It was perfectly natural for them to envy Makoto’s experiences.
Makoto Tsukimi: “Come to think of it, Kaname was once dragged over by Miki to have her fortune told. She asked me things like what her future would be like.”
Looking at Homura, Makoto deliberately shifted the conversation toward another subject.
And sure enough, the moment he began talking about Madoka Kaname, the expression of the girl standing before him visibly changed.
Even though Homura tried her hardest to conceal her reaction, the change was unmistakable.