Honestly, I don't know what to say about my interaction with Kumiko. She's vastly different from the Kumiko in the previous world. What could've changed? Well, she promised she wouldn't kill me, so I guess there's nothing to worry about anymore. All that's left is to enjoy the rest of the day with Olympia.
An anticlimactic end, maybe, but I'll gladly take that over fighting for my life.
Without realizing it, I'd walked right up to the rendezvous point. Five more minutes and I found the place she'd chosen.
A wide pond stretched before me—so wide in the moment it almost felt endless. Only when I forced myself to look around did I see its borders. Still, it was nice to admire. The animals weren't too loud; the sounds they did make blended into something calming.
I felt at peace, until—
"Kiyo!" Olympia called out. "I've been waiting forever! Come, sit with me before night becometh."
Becometh?
Anyway, I made my way over. She'd set out a blanket, and a picnic basket rested beside her. Of course, we were having a picnic. Why else meet at a park? Crumbs littered the blanket. I'd made her wait long enough for her to eat everything.
"I'd offer you food," she said, "but I ate it all. My bad." She glanced off to the side.
"It's okay, I'm not hungry. Maybe it's the punishment I get for making you wait."
A lie. I was starving. But no need to make her worry.
"If you say so. Anyway, how about we talk? I bet you have interesting things to say."
I froze. I didn't plan anything. Even though I'd been looking forward to this…my mind was empty.
This is awkward.
"It seems you hadn't planned any conversations," she observed—did she read my mind? "Lucky for us, I thought of some. Weird stuff… That's okay with you?"
"Of course. Whatever you want to talk about."
She beamed. "I'm glad you're eager to banter. Now…let's see…"
Had she actually prepared topics? Or was that just a line?
"I got it!" she suddenly said. "Do you believe in destiny?"
Destiny? As in fate? Is there even a difference?
"Destiny," she explained, "and fate are similar, but not the same. Fate is fixed—once written, never changed. Destiny is softer. It can bend, twist, be reshaped…but only by someone strong enough to do so. We can't halt the spinning of the world, but we can nudge it. Even just a little.
"So, I ask again: do you believe in destiny?"
"I don't fully grasp the difference," I admit. "Would fate be like how everyone dies one day, but destiny is what we choose to do before that? Like learning that we don't have much time left and changing our course because of it? Our fate stays the same, but our destiny shifts depending on what we decide."
"That's a good example. So…do you?"
"I'm not sure," I said. "What if destiny is predetermined by fate? And even if destiny changes…what if that change was fated too? It feels like we choose our path, but maybe that's just the illusion of choice. Maybe everything is already decided. Even this conversation."
"You describe fate like it's a prison," she said, disgusted. "And it is. I hate the idea that my choices weren't my own. 'I was fated to meet the love of my life'—what bullshit. It makes everything effortless, meaningless. Maybe you're right; maybe destiny is ultimately bound by fate.
"But I want to believe that everything I have, everything I cherish, exists because I made it happen. Because I worked for it. Because I chose it. My efforts weren't in vain."
She was so passionate. I don't think any previous Olympia talked like this.
"I'd like to believe fate doesn't matter either," I said. "Every step I take is because I decided to. Whatever The Story says doesn't matter as long as I don't read it. The world in front of me—the me that's sitting here, the you who's listening—exists not because it was written, but because it wants to. Because we want it to."
She smiled—bright, genuine, unrestrained. Not because something wrote she should, but because she wanted to.
"I love listening to you speak, Kiyomi. I know you're not the brightest—oops! Was that rude? You may not be the brightest, but you always make me think. I feel like I learn something new every time we talk."
Her smile softened.
"Well…it's getting late. I wish we had more time. If only you didn't take so long to find the spot…" Olympia says.
"It is getting dark. Let's call it a day."
Just as I began to stand, she caught my hand, pulled me in, and kissed me on the cheek.
Then, with her lips close to my ear, she whispered:
"Ciao ciao."