Yamada-kun's revelation made it clear that Oni-kun had killed Natsume-kun.
Since Natsume-kun wasn't in the treehouse where all the reincarnated people had been gathered, I figured some of them had probably already suspected as much.
Even so, while they might have been able to piece together that Natsume-kun was dead, the fact that a former classmate had committed the murder was surely beyond anyone's imagination.
As evidence, a cold silence had overtaken the entire room.
The only exceptions were Tagawa-kun, the bound Kusama-kun, and Ogiwara-kun.
Then there was Oshima-kun, who had already known about it — or rather, had witnessed it firsthand — and Yamada-kun, who had just made the statement.
Even Kudou-san seemed to be at a loss for words. As for the rest, some of them simply couldn't process what Yamada-kun had said and wore blank, dazed expressions.
Even those who had managed to understand were glancing around at each other's faces, as if wondering whether it was really true or what to make of it.
For these reincarnated people who had been living in the elven village, death was probably something far removed from their lives.
So even being told that someone they knew had died, it probably didn't feel real.
And if the person who had done it was a former classmate, that made it all the more incomprehensible.
Back in Japan, dying of anything other than old age was extremely rare, so maybe they had carried that sensibility with them.
In this world, where people pop off one after another whether you know them or not, the perception of death was just too wildly different.
On that front, Tagawa-kun and Kusama-kun, who had grown up outside the elven village, had a firm grasp of how death worked in this world.
That's why they weren't panicking.
But then again, if that was the case, why was Yamada-kun — who was supposed to have grown up outside as well — so worked up?
For starters, Yamada-kun had to have held an enormous grudge against Natsume-kun.
After all, Natsume-kun was responsible for his father's death and had driven him from his hometown.
On top of that, Natsume-kun had brainwashed his sister and friends, turning them against Yamada-kun — an absolutely despicable move.
Huh? Who had ordered Natsume-kun to do that?
Who could it possibly be—?
Well, never mind that for now.
Yamada-kun wanting to kill Natsume-kun made sense, but wanting to keep him alive? That didn't add up.
I just couldn't follow the logic.
"Hey, is what you just said actually true?"
The one who broke the silence was Kudou-san.
Oni-kun and Yamada-kun remained locked in a stare-down, neither moving.
Kudou-san glanced briefly at the two of them, then turned back to me and asked again.
Wait — me?!
"If what you said is true, then you all used Natsume-kun and then killed him?"
Hmm, well, that wasn't exactly wrong.
"I won't deny it."
"Then I'll take that as confirmation."
Kudou-san said that with a stern look on her face in response to my answer.
Well, she wasn't wrong.
In reality, they'd probably done things far more despicable than what Kudou-san was imagining.
Better not mention that.
Surely both sides would be happier that way. Yeah.
"For the record, he did plenty to deserve being killed. So there's nothing wrong with me being the one to finish him off."
"There's plenty wrong with that!"
Oni-kun had been trying to smooth things over with Kudou-san, but Yamada-kun shouted, cutting in.
The force with which he kicked his chair over and stood up caught me off guard.
"Shun. I'd think it's strange that you — the biggest victim here — are the one defending him, of all people."
"Yeah, maybe. But I haven't forgiven Natsume for what he did, and I'm not trying to defend him either."
Oh?
So Yamada-kun hadn't actually forgiven Natsume-kun after all.
I mean, forgiving someone after everything that had been done — you'd have to be a saint. And honestly, taking it that far was its own kind of problem.
"But still, killing him and calling it done — that's not right."
Several of the reincarnated people seemed to nod in agreement with Yamada-kun's words.
…Well, yeah, I supposed that made sense.
Raised in the closed environment of the elven village, it wouldn't be strange for them to have retained Japanese values wholesale.
In Japan, criminals were subject to strict punishment under the law.
The death penalty was reserved only for the most heinous offenses.
Even then, there had been movements to abolish it altogether.
In this world, life held a different weight.
Even for criminals, that didn't change.
"Natsume needed to live and atone for his sins. He had that obligation. You shouldn't have just killed him and ended it. Once he's dead, isn't that the end of everything?"
Hmm.
What he was saying was certainly a valid point, but — how should I put it — it felt naive.
The world was full of villains who had zero interest in atoning for their sins.
The idea that any criminal could be reformed if you just talked to them enough — that was the stuff of feel-good stories.
No matter how much effort you put in, if they were never going to change their heart, you'd just end up wasting your time.
In that case, wasn't it smarter to just kill them cleanly and be done with it?
Well, in Natsume-kun's case, I had no idea how things actually turned out, so this was purely my own opinion.
"You're right. Death means the end. Killing is wrong. That goes without saying. It shouldn't be forgiven."
Oni-kun agreed with Yamada-kun's words.
"Then—"
"Then surely it's only natural that Natsume, who took so many lives, cannot be forgiven either?"
Oni-kun cut off whatever Yamada-kun was about to say.
His words carried enough weight to silence Yamada-kun completely.
"Shun. When someone close to you has been killed, you simply cannot forgive the person who did it. No matter how hard they try to atone, the hatred lodged in your heart won't disappear. It might fade. But it won't vanish."
Those words were heavy with genuine feeling.
Hearing them, you could tell — Oni-kun had lost someone close to him. That much was obvious from the weight behind his voice.
"What you're saying is noble, Shun. But no matter how you look at it, he was in no position to be forgiven. He had to die. So I was the one who put him down. Can you accept that?"
Against Oni-kun's weighted words, Yamada-kun shouldn't have been able to mount any counterargument.
"You won't — I can't accept that."
He was supposed to be unable to.
But in Yamada-kun's eyes, there burned a fierce light.
Something unbreakable was undeniably there.
"Shun. If you've seen this world, you should understand. This world isn't Japan. Life is cheap here. You can't just bring Japanese values with you and expect it to work — that changes nothing!"
Oni-kun tried to reason with the stubborn Yamada-kun, pressing his point.
"That changes nothing? Why do you think that?"
But those words triggered an unexpected counterattack.
"Yes, in this world, life is cheap. People die over the slightest thing. That's exactly why
He shouted.
It was a cry full of conviction — one that shattered my earlier assessment of him as merely naive.
I had thought he was clinging to Japanese values out of simple-mindedness, offering a soft, idealistic opinion.
I was wrong.
Yamada-kun understood perfectly well — and chose to hold fast to that softness anyway. His shout made that clear.
"This world isn't Japan? Yeah, of course it isn't. Everything here is different from Japan. But does that mean we have to throw away Japanese values? Is that something we should feel guilty about?"
Yamada-kun's words made Oshima-kun, who was sitting just behind him, tremble.
Was that reaction because Oshima-kun, too, had discarded Japanese values in order to survive in this world?
"Kyouya. Let me ask you instead. You said it can't be helped. Isn't that just you compromising — accepting that this is simply the kind of world it is, and giving up?"