It was so vague that Asakusa Tōru couldn't help feeling uneasy.
Normally, he didn't need to worry too much about the rewards given by the diary. He could just use them and be done with it.
But when it came to items that might distort his mind or personality, he couldn't help being cautious.
Even if he decided to use them, it would only be under strict limitations.
And every use had to be handled carefully.
…This was the first time he had received such an item.
Well, not entirely. Items like the Calming Popsicle had also affected emotions before.
But the two were on completely different levels.
"..."
After hesitating for a moment, Asakusa Tōru still tied the headband around his forehead.
Although he had said earlier that he would let it gather dust, it didn't feel right to never test a reward he had earned.
This was his first B-rank item, after all.
He had to try it at least once.
He casually picked up his personal terminal from the bedside, noted the current time, set an alarm for three minutes later, and started a stopwatch.
Then he put the terminal down.
After that, he softly stated his goal:
"My goal is to have a good sleep in three minutes."
The moment he finished speaking, he felt a faint sense of restraint.
Immediately after, his body decisively turned off the lights and pulled up the blanket.
His eyelids were forcibly shut.
Darkness. Silence. Peace.
Then, his consciousness quietly sank.
"..."
He woke up.
"Beep beep beep beep beep—!"
The deadly alarm rang out the instant he regained awareness. His body reflexively grabbed the terminal and shut it off.
Then he lay back down again, closed his eyes, and resumed sleeping.
Steady breathing and fading consciousness pressed the shutdown button together.
When Asakusa Tōru opened his eyes again, the headband slipped off naturally.
The sense of restraint disappeared.
Sunlight filtered faintly through the window.
He had indeed fallen asleep. And the alarm that should have interrupted him had been turned off in advance.
But he couldn't say that it was a good sleep.
It seemed that the standard for "good sleep" wasn't based on his personal feelings.
Then…
His groggy post-sleep thoughts slowly began turning under the sunlight.
Once again, Asakusa Tōru put the headband on.
"My goal is to master magnetic field manipulation within one minute."
This time, no restraint came.
The headband slipped off his head with a swish.
The goal failed to activate.
Was it because it was impossible?
Or…
"Current 'determination' is insufficient. Unable to set the goal."
A cold voice answered in his ear.
"Determination."
It wasn't hard to understand.
The driving force that turns will into action and pushes one forward unwaveringly—this was determination.
But…
"If I had that kind of determination, why would I need you?" Asakusa Tōru frowned.
If he truly had the resolve, he would do it even without the headband.
So what was this thing even for?
Ridiculous.
Anything he was truly determined to do, he would do no matter how many times he had to start over.
Why bother doing things he wasn't determined about?
…Of course, that wasn't always the case.
If he were the type who was periodically fired up with motivation, then this item would be extremely useful.
It could lock in those bursts of resolve, tie them to fixed goals, and whip him into action.
Unfortunately, he wasn't that kind of person.
Still… thinking about it carefully, it wasn't completely useless.
With the arrival of morning sunlight, his body grew more active, and both physical and mental desires became stronger.
He put away the Resolute Headband, stopped the stopwatch, casually threw on a jacket, and left the dorm.
The time was six in the morning.
The stopwatch showed a total of six hours and fifteen minutes.
It was a bit early, but he could go eat breakfast.
As the saying goes, humans have three fundamental physiological needs:
Sleep.
Food.
And…
He had slept enough.
His appetite would soon be satisfied.
So—
When desire surged, the "determination" of the Resolute Headband would also be filled.
It was time to finally accomplish the goal he had postponed for a whole month.
White Gym, activate!
...
Clear sensations came through his palms.
His fingertips gently rubbed, as if he were handling a flawless work of art, reshaping it over and over into the form he liked.
The slight resistance felt like coquettish teasing.
Perfectly recreated reactions dampened his fingers.
With the crimson headband fluttering high, Asakusa Tōru wore a satisfied expression.
This, perhaps, was what a girl was like.
No matter how much she trained her body, no matter how much she refined her skills, she would still have an incredibly soft side.
Sweet spices mixed with large amounts of sugar, producing an intensely sticky scent.
Syrup clung to his fingers, stretching into translucent, blurry threads.
If he gathered it slightly, a beautiful ball of cotton candy would form in his hands.
Don't misunderstand.
Asakusa Tōru was just playing with white sugar.
His goal had already been achieved.
Time spent: just one hour.
Surprisingly efficient.
Was it because of complete focus?
Or was the Resolute Headband really that powerful?
When determination rose to a certain level, efficiency multiplied.
His mind ran at high speed.
His body imitated fluidly.
Most importantly, there was the bonus granted by the White Gym to registered members.
His thoughts rotated with unbelievable clarity.
His imitation of Amazawa Ichika's movements was faster than at any point in the past month.
His already greatly improved physical abilities hadn't reached their limit yet, but they were enough to keep him from falling behind her.
As mentioned before, although Amazawa Ichika would attack him endlessly, her assaults couldn't be neutralized by mere memorization.
Each attack itself was a form of teaching.
Once he mastered the force application and technique, she would immediately change her style and switch to another set of moves.
Asakusa Tōru had always been curious.
When he was defeated, the gym space reset.
But if Amazawa Ichika were defeated, would she "graduate" early?
Or would he gain complete freedom?
He had never been able to test this before.
But now—
He could.
The headband slowly slid down from his forehead.
The copy that had been brought into this space along with his real-world state had fulfilled its purpose.
He no longer maintained the posture of being constantly suppressed and counterattacked.
Instead, he delivered her a complete defeat.
And so—
The sweet scent vanished.
The delicate body disappeared from its place.
Asakusa Tōru's state refreshed to its complete form.
"Crash—"
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