Schemes

6:30 a.m. Yuki Takamura’s private room, Izu Training Centre.

“Bad, bad, this is really bad…”

Takamura Yuki sat alone on her bed, knees drawn to her chest. The tablet in her hands displayed detailed analytical data from the previous night’s “true feelings game.”

【Human Relationship Shift Analysis — Last Night】

Kurose Tenga: Emotional disclosure index +340% (personal all-time high)

Tsukishima Sou: Human expressiveness index +892% (exceeds theoretical value)

Saionji Reika: Natural-state index +156% (authority-dependence ratio sharply reduced)

Shironami Riko: Influence index ∞ (measurement continues to fail)

Information-gathering and analysis was Yuki’s trade. But these figures were completely beyond her comprehension.

“Riko’s influence has basically stopped obeying the laws of physics…” Yuki murmured. “But the bigger problem is…”

She switched screens. There, a classified file concerning Tsukishima Sou appeared.

【CLASSIFIED: Tsukishima Sou】

Affiliation: Emotional Capital Institute (ECI)

Title: Chief Research Officer & Chief Investment Officer

Estimated assets: approx. USD 30 billion

Purpose of visit to Japan: 【Codename: Project Uncalculable】

Danger rating: MAXIMUM

Yuki’s face drained of colour. Was the humanity that beautiful boy had shown last night genuine — or a highly calculated performance?

“Either way,” Yuki said, getting to her feet, “I have to protect Tenga and Riko.”

She changed quickly, then launched a special application on the tablet. The words “Emergency Communication Mode” appeared on screen.

“Hello, Uncle in Osaka? It’s Yuki.”

A man’s voice with a Kansai accent responded from the other end.

“Yuki-chan? What’s the matter, calling this early?”

“Emergency. I need more information about ‘Tsukishima Sou.’”

The tone of the voice on the other end shifted completely.

“Oi, Yuki-chan, don’t tell me you got near that monster?”

“Monster?”

“Tsukishima Sou isn’t just some researcher,” her uncle said, fear creeping into his voice. “He’s an ‘emotion killer.’ He quantifies everything — love, friendship, all of it — puts it under his control. Everyone who comes in contact with him ends up losing their feelings, turning into a puppet.”

Yuki’s hand trembled.

“But last night Sou was… human.”

“That’s what makes him most dangerous,” her uncle warned. “His ‘humanity’ is a perfectly calculated act. A trap to lower the guard of people with real feelings and draw them in.”

Yuki caught her breath.

“So Riko is in danger?”

“That’s right. If he completely analyses Shironami Riko’s ‘incalculable love,’ the feelings of people all over the world will be his to command.” Her uncle’s voice grew even graver. “Romance, friendship, the love between parent and child — all of it becomes a commodity.”

Yuki clenched her fist.

“That absolutely has to be stopped.”

“Yuki-chan, don’t try to handle this alone,” her uncle warned. “The other side is the world’s finest expert in emotional manipulation. One wrong move and you’ll be absorbed too.”

“But…”

“There is, however,” her uncle’s voice took on a note of hope, “one method.”

“A method?”

“‘True love,’” her uncle explained. “The only thing Tsukishima Sou cannot control is pure, incalculable feeling. If the people around Riko can build genuine bonds with her — bonds he can’t get at…”

“His plan can be stopped?”

“That’s right. But for that to work, Tenga needs to ‘open his heart completely.’”

Yuki’s expression grew complicated.

“Meaning I need Tenga to love Riko — not by calculation, but by feeling…”

“That’s the only way. Calculated love can be exploited by Sou. But pure love can’t be controlled by anyone.”

After the call ended, Yuki sat for a long time in thought.

Getting Tenga and Riko together… but that means I become Cupid, doesn’t it.

Complex emotions swirled in her chest — her own faint feelings for Tenga, her friendship with Riko, and her wish for both of them to be happy.

“Right,” Yuki said, steeling herself. “Operation: begin.”

＊

7:00 a.m. The breakfast hall, Izu Training Centre.

“Good morning.”

Riko’s bright voice rang through the dining room. Despite having been up until well after midnight, her face was fresh, radiating the warmth of morning light.

In the dining hall, the students who had taken part in last night’s game were naturally gravitating to the same table. Cross-rank interaction that would ordinarily have been impossible continued.

“Riko-chan, morning!” Haruka waved. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, very,” Riko smiled. “The fun from last night kept going in my dreams.”

Tenga was at a slightly removed table, alone, drinking coffee and checking his morning data. But the screen wasn’t showing market data — it was a transcription of last night’s conversation.

‘It’s fine to show more of yourself.’

The words a classmate had said to him last night wouldn’t leave his head. For a long time, Tenga had kept his “real self” hidden, believing it was the strategically correct thing to do.

“Tenga.”

He looked up to find Riko standing there, breakfast tray in hand.

“Would you like to eat together?”

Tenga hesitated for a moment. But last night’s experience shifted his judgment.

”…All right.”

Riko sat across from him. The moment she did, the air around them seemed to warm.

“What were you thinking about just now?” Riko asked, naturally.

“I was analysing last night,” Tenga answered. “Your ‘influence.’”

Riko tilted her head. “Influence?”

“Simply by being present, you cause people’s behavioural patterns to change dramatically,” Tenga’s assessment was objective. “In last night’s game too, everyone spoke truths they’d never normally say.”

“That,” Riko smiled, “is simply everyone’s innate kindness coming to the surface.”

“No,” Tenga shook his head. “It was because you were the ‘catalyst’ that the chemical reaction occurred.”

Riko listened to Tenga’s analysis with interest.

“How did you feel about the change last night, Tenga?”

“How I felt…” Tenga searched for words. “Theoretically I can’t explain it. But…”

He looked down at his coffee cup.

“It wasn’t bad.”

Riko’s expression brightened.

“That is the answer,” she said. “Even if you can’t explain it in theory, if it feels good, then it’s the right thing.”

At that moment, Tsukishima Sou appeared at the entrance to the dining hall. In complete contrast to the night before, his expression was under perfect control — as though last night’s humanity had been a lie.

Sou approached Tenga and Riko’s table.

“Good morning,” Sou’s voice was polite, but somehow mechanical.

“Good morning, Tsukishima-san,” Riko responded naturally. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, sufficiently.” Sou smiled. But the warmth of last night was gone. “By the way, Riko-san.”

His blue eyes fixed on Riko.

“The weather is fine today. Would the two of you care to take a walk with me?”

Tenga’s guard went up. Sou’s suggestion clearly had a purpose.

“A walk?” Riko tilted her head. “That sounds nice.”

“Riko,” Tenga tried to stop her quietly. But she was already on her feet.

“It’s such a lovely natural setting — let’s all enjoy it together.”

At that moment, from across the dining room, Yuki stood up.

“Ah, Riko-chan!” Yuki called out loudly. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Riko turned. “Yuki-san?”

Yuki hurried over. Her expression was visibly urgent.

“Actually, about last night’s game — there’s something I wanted to consult you about…” Yuki tugged at Riko’s arm. “Can we talk privately?”

Riko looked uncertain. “Right now?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit pressing.” Yuki’s Kansai accent thickened — a sign she was nervous.

Sou’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly — irritation at an unforeseen intrusion into his plan.

“Then,” Sou said pleasantly, “we can walk later.”

“I’m sorry, Tsukishima-san,” Riko bowed. “I promise I’ll come.”

Yuki swept Riko out of the dining room. Tenga moved to follow, but Sou stopped him.

“Tenga,” Sou’s voice dropped. “Could we talk for a moment?”

＊

7:30 a.m. A coastal walkway, Izu Training Centre.

Riko and Yuki walked along a narrow path by the sea, away from the others.

Once Yuki had confirmed no one was watching, she took out her tablet.

“Riko-chan, look at this.”

The screen showed Sou’s classified file.

“Tsukishima-san’s… profile?” Riko looked puzzled.

“The truth about who Sou is,” Yuki’s voice became serious. “He’s not just a transfer student. He’s a researcher for the world’s largest institution for emotional economics, and he’s here to use you as his research subject.”

Riko’s expression clouded.

“Research subject…?”

“He wants to completely analyse your ‘incalculable love’ and artificially reproduce it,” Yuki continued. “If that succeeds, the feelings of people all over the world could be manipulated.”

Riko was quiet. Was the humanity Sou had shown last night an act?

“But,” Riko said quietly, “last night, Tsukishima-san was very sincere.”

“That’s exactly what makes him most dangerous,” Yuki warned. “His ‘humanity’ is a perfectly calculated performance. It’s a trap to make you drop your guard.”

Riko stopped walking.

“Do you think Tsukishima-san is a bad person, Yuki-san?”

Yuki was taken aback. It wasn’t the question she’d expected.

“A bad person… in terms of data he’s dangerous, but…”

“But,” Riko gazed out at the sea, “last night, when Tsukishima-san was talking, his eyes weren’t the eyes of someone telling lies.”

Yuki caught her breath. Riko’s perception transcended data and analysis.

“Riko-chan… are you saying you trust Sou?”

“Not exactly trust,” Riko turned. “I want to understand him.”

There was a strong conviction in Riko’s brown eyes.

“If Tsukishima-san were truly a bad person, he wouldn’t have looked that pained last night,” she continued. “There must be a deep reason behind it.”

Yuki was moved by Riko’s purity — and frightened by it at the same time. Because that very purity was the most valuable thing Sou could possibly want to study.

“But you’re in danger, Riko-chan,” Yuki tried desperately to persuade her. “If Sou uses you…”

“It will be fine,” Riko smiled. “I have you and Tenga with me.”

Riko took Yuki’s hand.

“And,” Riko’s voice grew warm, “Tsukishima-san surely has true feelings too. If I can find those feelings…”

＊

7:45 a.m. Simultaneously, a terrace inside the Training Centre.

“I know who you really are.”

Tenga’s voice was calm, but a watchful light lived in his golden eyes. The “walk” with Sou had in effect become an interrogation.

“Who I really am?” Sou smiled — utterly unlike last night’s, perfectly calculated.

“The Emotional Capital Institute,” Tenga answered immediately. “The world’s largest institution for emotional economics. You are its Chief Research Officer.”

Sou’s expression hardened for just an instant. But he recovered his graceful smile at once.

“Impressive, Tenga,” Sou applauded. “Your intelligence-gathering ability exceeds the rumours.”

“Then you won’t deny it.”

“No reason to deny it,” Sou shrugged. “I am indeed an ECI researcher. But is that a problem?”

Tenga’s expression tightened.

“Your objective is to study Riko.”

“That’s correct,” Sou acknowledged frankly. “Shironami Riko is the most important ‘singularity’ in the history of emotional economics. There is no reason not to study her.”

“Riko is not a research subject,” Tenga’s voice took on an emotional quality for the first time. “She is a person.”

Sou’s blue eyes sharpened.

“An interesting reaction,” Sou observed, watching Tenga. “Your data profiles you as someone who operates by ‘pure logic stripped of emotion.’ But that remark just now…”

Sou stepped closer.

“Is a completely emotional judgment.”

Tenga said nothing. But Sou’s observation was accurate. Where Riko was concerned, Tenga could not maintain a cold analysis.

“I have no intention of hurting Riko,” Sou continued. “I only want to understand her ‘ability.’”

“Understand it — and then do what?”

“Reproduce it,” Sou’s voice carried, for the first time, a note of genuine feeling. “If Riko’s ‘incalculable love’ can be artificially reproduced, people all over the world can be happy.”

Tenga frowned.

“Does artificial love have any value?”

“It does,” Sou’s answer was instant. “Natural love is unstable, destructive, and uncontrollable. But with artificial love…”

Sou’s gaze drifted to the distance.

“Nobody ever has to suffer for love again.”

Tenga caught the pain hidden in Sou’s words. This was not merely a researcher’s ambition. There was something more personal — something deeper.

“You as well,” Tenga said quietly. “Were you hurt by love?”

Sou’s expression fractured for an instant. Then the mask went back on.

“Personal feelings have no bearing on this discussion.”

“They do,” Tenga stated. “Your motive for this research is obviously personal revenge.”

A dangerous light came into Sou’s blue eyes.

“Revenge…”

“You were betrayed by love, so you want to bring love itself under your control,” Tenga’s analysis was sharp. “But that is precisely backward.”

Tenga faced him squarely.

“The moment you try to control love, it ceases to be love.”

Sou was silent. Tenga’s insight had touched the wound he had kept hidden for years.

“Well then, Tenga,” Sou said in a low voice. “Are you prepared to accept being at the mercy of Riko’s ‘uncontrollable love’?”

“At the mercy of it?”

“Her influence has already begun to break down your ‘pure logic,’” Sou’s observation was precise. “Last night you were no longer the strategist who strips out emotion.”

Tenga’s expression grew complicated.

“That…”

“Is it ‘evolution’?” Sou asked. “Or ‘decay’? Can a person ruled by emotion truly have value?”

Tenga could not answer. The question Sou posed was the most fundamental question he himself had been carrying.

At that moment, voices reached them from the coastal walkway — Riko and Yuki.

“Ah, you two!” Riko’s bright voice rang out.

Tenga and Sou turned. Riko was running toward them with Yuki, but Yuki’s expression was plainly guarded.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Riko approached. “Are you finished talking?”

Tenga and Sou looked at each other. The conversation wasn’t finished. If anything, it was only just beginning.

“Yes,” Sou gave a perfect smile. “A most productive exchange.”

Riko could feel the tension between the two of them.

“You both look so stern,” Riko said, concerned. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing at all,” Tenga answered. But his voice carried unmistakable agitation.

Riko watched Tenga carefully. And she knew intuitively that something was weighing on him.

“Tenga,” Riko said gently. “Could we talk for a moment?”

Tenga looked at her. In those brown eyes lived a warm understanding.

”…Yes.”

Riko took Tenga’s arm.

“Tsukishima-san, Yuki-san, would you excuse us?”

Riko led Tenga away along the walkway. Sou and Yuki watched their retreating figures with complicated expressions.

＊

8:15 a.m. A small bench by the sea.

“Something is hurting you, Tenga.”

At Riko’s words, Tenga was startled. She always saw through to the bottom of a person’s heart.

“What makes you think so?”

“Your expression,” Riko answered, settling onto the bench. “It’s completely different from last night. As if something is troubling you…”

Tenga sat down beside her. The sea breeze moved gently through both their hair.

“Riko,” Tenga said quietly. “Since I met you, something in me has begun to change.”

“Change?”

“Until now I’ve solved everything with logic,” Tenga looked out at the sea. “I believed emotions were inefficient, dangerous, and uncontrollable.”

Riko listened without speaking.

“But when I’m with you… that logic loses its meaning,” confusion crept into Tenga’s voice. “I can’t calculate, can’t predict, can’t control. But…”

He turned to look at her.

“It feels comfortable.”

Riko’s expression softened.

“That is entirely natural,” she said. “Emotions are fundamentally something logic can’t explain.”

“And yet,” Tenga let his distress show, “that is also a denial of my identity. Can a person controlled by emotion have any value?”

Riko took Tenga’s hand. The warmth of it quieted something inside him.

“Tenga,” Riko said gently. “Being ‘controlled by’ emotion and ‘coexisting with’ emotion are different things.”

“Coexisting?”

“Yes,” Riko nodded. “Think of emotions not as an enemy, but as a dear friend.”

She cupped his hand in both of hers.

“Your logical thinking is wonderful. But if emotion were added to it as colour, I believe it would become something even more wonderful.”

Tenga turned her words over and over. Not a conflict between logic and emotion — a harmony. It was a perspective he had never considered.

“But,” he murmured, “if I let emotion carry me and my judgment goes wrong…”

“It’s all right to make mistakes,” Riko’s answer was without hesitation. “What matters is learning from them.”

She looked at him.

“You’re afraid of repeating your father’s failure, aren’t you, Tenga.”

Tenga’s face went rigid. She had struck the heart of it.

“My father lost everything because he was carried away by emotion,” Tenga’s voice shook. “So I, so that I would never repeat the same mistake…”

“But,” Riko interrupted, “it wasn’t because your father ‘had emotions’ that he failed, was it?”

Tenga looked at her.

“He simply didn’t know how to love,” Riko continued. “But you’re different. You have the ‘wisdom’ of logical thinking.”

Hope filled her voice.

“Wisdom and love together — that would surely be unstoppable.”

Tenga was struck by her words. Not eliminating emotion, but guiding emotion with wisdom. Perhaps that was the path that led beyond his father.

“Riko,” Tenga said quietly. “Are you trying to change me?”

“No,” Riko shook her head. “I only wish that you would come to like yourself more.”

“Like myself?”

“Yes,” Riko smiled. “You may think of yourself as ‘emotionally bankrupt.’ But from where I stand, you are a very appealing person.”

Riko put her hand to his cheek.

“Logical, gentle, honest, and more serious about love than anyone else,” her voice grew warm. “Someone like you will surely find a beautiful way to love.”

Tenga’s heart beat faster. The warmth of Riko’s hand, her gentle gaze, her encompassing voice — all of it was dissolving his reason.

Is this what love is, Tenga thought. No calculation, no strategy. Pure feeling.

“Riko,” Tenga’s voice came out rough. “I…”

＊　　　＊　　　＊