Chillin' on an Uninhabited Island in Another World

“If you could bring just one thing to a deserted island?”

That’s what’s written on the blackboard.

—Ah. This is a dream.

You ever get dreams where you realize it’s a dream mid-dream?

That was me today.

In a stark white space, desks and chairs are lined up, and everyone from our Class 2-A is here—no one missing.

There’s no floor, no ceiling, no windows, no door, no walls... but there is a blackboard.

And on that blackboard, those words are written.

“What is this?” “A classroom?” “Dude, why is everything so white?” “...Is this a dream?”

The reactions from my classmates vary, but it all feels weirdly real. Every line sounds like something that person would actually say; every gesture looks like something they’d actually do.

Even if people you know show up in your dreams, it’s not unusual for their personalities—or your relationship dynamics—to be totally off. But this dream seems committed to realism.

“So-kun, what would you bring?”

The one who comes over to my desk and asks that is my childhood friend, Iyama Chiyu.

Shoulder-length white hair. Sapphire-blue eyes like gemstones. She’s a bit on the petite side... except her chest, which insists on making its presence known with overwhelming force.

Her expression doesn’t change much, but on the inside she’s surprisingly playful—likes jokes more than you’d think. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, and even now, in our second year of high school, we still hang out.

My name is Kuno Sousuke.

Sousuke, so people call me So-kun. Simple.

“...Even in a dream, your boobs are huge.”

Since it’s a dream anyway, I say what I’d never say out loud in real life because, y’know, basic human decency.

In response, she shoots me a look—completely expressionless, yet unmistakably cold—just like the real her.

“Pervert.”

“S-sorry.”

The apology slips out before I can stop it.

This dream is too real. It’s hard to know how to react.

Maybe I should just act normal—like I always do.

“Uh, okay. So. The blackboard thing, right?”

“Yeah. What would you bring?”

I mean, it’s a classic hypothetical. The kind you’ve probably run into a few times if you’ve managed to stay alive for more than a decade.

Same category as: What would you do if you won the lottery?

Or: If you could be reborn, what would you be?

Or: Which celebrity do you want to date?

I glance around at the others.

“Obviously a smartphone.” “Right??”

“Bug spray, maybe.” “Then I’ll bring sunscreen.” “Hahaha—if you’re bringing that, don’t you also need a swimsuit?”

“An airplane. I’d fly back to Japan.” “Can you even fly one?!”

“Cola.” “Same. I’ll bring chips. We’ll share.”

“A fishing rod. Food security matters.” “Then I’ll bring a spear. I wanna yell, ‘Got one!’”

Everyone’s tossing out ideas.

It’s just small talk, so it’s not like I need to butt in, but... you only get to choose one. Are they really okay with those picks?

Some people are thinking seriously, though...

For example—

“A lighter.”

Starting a fire is harder than amateurs think, so having a lighter in the early «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» stages after being stranded would be a huge help. You could even use it as a crutch: keep the fire going until you learn how to start one without it. Someone else suggested “matches,” too.

“A gun.”

As raw force—especially if you’re imagining conflict with other people—it’s useful. But there are concerns: the user’s skill, what kind of gun it is, what kind of ammo, how much ammo.

Like, if it’s a revolver with only six shots and no reloads... is that really worth being your one item?

You could treat possession itself as a weapon—deterrence and all—but if you run into a wild animal, you’ll probably burn through the shots immediately. ...Though in that case, would you be using something else anyway?

“A knife. On a deserted island, it’s the ultimate all-purpose tool.”

That’s the classic. Some people said “survival knife,” others said “machete,” but any of those would be incredibly useful.

I’ve heard stories about making blades out of stone, but that’s not something a beginner can just casually pull off.

“A pot.” “Utensils.” “A fork. Good for eating—good for stabbing!”

I get it, but that’s not a priority for me. If I’m stranded, I’d rather focus on not dying than on maintaining a civilized lifestyle.

After listening to all these opinions, I finally answer my childhood friend.

“What I’d bring is...”

“...You’d bring?”

“—A crafting ability.”

“...That’s cheating, isn’t it?”

My childhood friend narrows her eyes at me.