After calming down and thinking rationally, Utaha had more or less figured out Haizaki's attitude toward her—and the reasons behind it.
It was a little… sad.
Looking back at the man in front of her, Utaha couldn't help but think so.
When she first met Haizaki, she worried that his concern for her came from a man's instinctive desire and impulses toward a woman.
In her view, that was normal. She had never thought there was anything wrong with matters between men and women. But as a woman, deep down she still hoped that Haizaki's closeness and concern for her were not driven by desire, but by love.
But now, she realized that everything Haizaki did for her was merely concern for a fellow human being—an instinct deeply engraved in human genes, one person caring for another.
Even if she were a man, Haizaki would still treat her exactly the same.
This made her mock her own initial ignorance, while also lamenting the current situation.
She, the only woman in this world, had failed to attract a man.
Haizaki's concern for her, as a man, stemmed more from human instinct than male instinct.
Thinking this, Utaha let out a soft sigh and spoke.
"Were you worried just now that I might leave?"
"Yes."
He no longer denied it. It was the truth—there was nothing to deny.
"Why were you worried that I would leave?"
At this moment, Utaha was calm and serious. Her tone was flat, her wine-red eyes reflecting Haizaki's figure, emitting a subtle aura.
"I just—"
"I'll answer for you."
She was trying to seize control of the conversation.
"You're worried that I'd be hungry, cold, or sick on my own, worried that I wouldn't be able to live well, to survive, or might even die. Is that right?"
"If you don't answer, I'll take it as your tacit agreement."
"If—if I say that since you can't build a relationship with me beyond friendship, then wouldn't it be better for me not to appear before you at all, to be left on my own? If we had no interaction, our relationship wouldn't develop any further."
"I just—" Haizaki was about to speak firmly, but Utaha was faster.
"Helping me from a human standpoint… right?"
"Yes. In a world where only the two of us remain, I hope you can live. I hope you can live well. That's my true thought."
He had to take responsibility for the system dragging an "assistant" into the apocalyptic world. He had to let Utaha, someone he knew from his previous life, live on—live well—until the day she could return to the original world.
"I understand. I'll live properly. I'll fulfill our promise and live until April fourth next year. Even if something happens to you, I'll still do my best to live on."
Utaha made her promise to Haizaki, and at the same time noticed the fleeting joy that flashed across his face after she said it.
That made her feel even more stifled.
Bitterness began to spread through her heart.
"I won't die. So we have to live—together."
The heaviness quickly dissipated, replaced by firm resolve shining in her wine-red eyes.
Utaha would not admit defeat.
Since Haizaki didn't dare take a step forward, then she would take the first step herself.
If Haizaki had reservations, then she would be the one to break them.
An inexplicable surge of motivation and fighting spirit rose within Utaha.
This was not just a reluctant counterattack after defeat—it was another battle, launched by a woman against a man.
"Together?"
"Yes, together. The two of us will live together, live well together—one year, ten years, fifty years—until the moment of death, until the moment the world comes to an end."
Seeing a slight change in Haizaki's expression, Utaha continued.
"Even if you think this is a dream, that everything is fake and will turn into bubbles the moment you wake up—then before that happens, let's live properly, okay? Let's enjoy this dream life you believe in."
She could clearly feel her breathing, heartbeat, touch, and smell. Everything around her existed vividly and conformed to reality.
This wasn't a dream—it couldn't be a dream. But if Haizaki insisted it was, she was willing to try to believe it.
At this moment, Utaha's expression was serious, sincerely expressing her wishes.
If Haizaki didn't give a definite answer, she would be hurt—without a doubt.
Affirmation, or rejection.
She waited for Haizaki's answer.
"Give me a little more time, okay?"
"Okay."
She understood that she had taken another step closer to success. The dawn of victory had already appeared.
"Kasumigaoka-san, if in the previous world, if I had confessed to you, would you have accepted it?"
Without the apocalyptic disaster of the previous life, without the 'Solitary Apocalypse' of this life—without these drastic external changes forcing their interactions—could their relationship really have progressed this quickly?
"No."
That was quite a blow.
"You never even pursued me. How could I possibly accept your confession?"
It was very much in Utaha's style.
"Then that really was my problem."
"Be more confident. Be braver. Just because your external conditions aren't great, does that mean you lose the courage to pursue a girl you like?
"If you don't even take the first step, can you really call that liking someone? In the previous world, there were plenty of girls who cared about your essence—your heart—not those external conditions."
Like her.
But at this moment, Utaha couldn't say that aloud.
Because actions were more effective than words.
"For over four months, everything you've done is the best proof of your own strength. Not just anyone can reach your level. In a lonely environment like this, how many people can endure solitude and loneliness without giving up and just muddling through each day? Think about your routine over these four months."
This was what Utaha admired most about Haizaki—and also what attracted her.
Self-discipline. Powerful self-control.
Persisting day after day, carrying out planned routines.
A person like this would shine in any environment.
In the previous world, even if Haizaki was quiet for a time, he would eventually stand out and become the center of attention.
Utaha had that feeling.
"You are outstanding. On this point alone, I can be certain."
"Thank you."
The charm and affection radiating from the girl moved Haizaki.
If this had been him in the past—burdened only by academic pressure and everyday worries—then after hearing these words, he would surely have been moved and taken action, throwing everything aside to pursue her.
His right hand, hidden behind his back, clenched tightly. The surge of strength made Haizaki even more clear-headed.
He understood what he was running from.
This affection from the girl would ultimately disappear along with her memories.
Moreover, the deep, pitch-black pressure of the apocalypse loomed over his heart—heavy, oppressive, and dark.
Even if he had confidence in surviving to the end, who knew what might happen? Perhaps in the next moment, he would die in some apocalyptic world—unnoticed, untouched, in another realm entirely.
Someone like him… was he really worthy?
…