As the snow slowly began to melt, the air in Sōgo City was still cold, but the sunlight hinted at spring.At my desk, I spread out my notebook and toyed with a highlighter, when that strange sensation returned.
—"Focus on Example Four. There is no point in moving on with weak understanding."
The tone was calm and polite.Yet a few minutes later, it became almost like another person.
—"Number Four. Focus. Understanding weak. Next."
So curt. So cold.I couldn't help but frown.
"…Hey, your tone just changed, didn't it?"
—"Identical. A mere misperception."
It remained unshaken, as if nothing was odd. But it was odd. I let out a small sigh.Calling it just "the voice" forever was confusing anyway. Half out of embarrassment, I spoke.
"…Then maybe I should give you a name. Like… Siri, or—"
—"Inappropriate. Stop."
A spark seemed to flash inside my head. My words caught in my throat.Wh–what the hell was that…?
—"This is not something to joke about. I have extracted the optimal candidate from your memory."
In the next instant, words struck straight at my chest.
—"Lilia. From now on, I shall be called Lilia."
"Wha—!? How the hell do you know that name!?"
My heart jumped. Lilia.The heroine of the light novel I'd secretly been reading.A secret I'd never told anyone. My face grew hot.But the voice—no, Lilia—spoke matter-of-factly.
—"It is the name you most trust, the one you wish to walk alongside long-term. Rest assured. From now on, call me Lilia."
"You can't just decide that on your own…!"
And yet, part of me couldn't deny it.The moment she had a name, the voice no longer felt like a function—she felt like a partner.
That night, I made another discovery.I could open Lilia's "settings."
〈Profile〉〈Tone〉〈Advice Detail〉〈Ethics Filter〉—The list spread out before me, leaving me breathless.I fixed her tone to "Polite," and adjusted the detail level for each subject.
Lilia answered quietly.
—"Understood. Efficiency will improve by twenty-eight percent."
At that moment, my world expanded—just a little.
◇
Months passed.By the time the snow had melted and the city's mist thinned, the day came when our final exam papers were returned.The scent of melting snow lingered in the hallway, dampness clung to my indoor shoes. I took a deep breath and sat down.
Papers were handed out. Murmurs, sighs, laughter.And then—
"Kudō."
A sheet of paper slid onto my desk. I glanced at the red number in the corner—and my eyes widened.Ninety-seven. A perfect score in math. Only one mistake in English. High marks across Japanese and every other subject.My hands trembled.
"…Wait, Kudō?"
"No way. What happened to him?"
"That's Kudō, right?"
The class buzzed. My classmates, even the teacher, stared in shock at my paper.The teacher narrowed his eyes slightly and muttered.
"…Kudō. Well done."
Heat welled up inside my chest.I slipped the paper into my file and whispered under my breath beneath the desk.
"…This is my skill. Right, Lilia?"
There was no reply.Only silence—yet it felt like proof that my partner was there.