“What makes you say that?” I decided to press him to find out more.

  “In ‘Democracy’, you made logical arguments on how Yaeko had the most points without anyone else revealing their point total, and those deductions were similar to the deductions this game was based on. If you were capable of seeing that, I knew you’d be capable of seeing this.” I was about to reply, but he kept going.

  “There’s more. During ‘Democracy’, you showed how observant you were. You also had logical counters for everything whenever you argued with Yaeko.” He blankly looked away as if he were recalling those events.

  “Nobu, if you knew all of that, why didn’t you anticipate I’d use one small and two large groups?”

  He gave me a confused look.

  “Well, I mean, I knew you would… but what was I meant to do with that?”

  He looked at me as if he was making sense.

  I just gave him a confused look back until he elaborated.

  “Why would I resort to a mind game like that when I could use a perfectly thought out logical system?” I genuinely didn’t know what to say, so I took a second to think about how to address this.

  I view psychology as a powerful weapon that can win you any game.

  I beat Yuto purely because I weaponised his pride against him, not through logic.

  I got Ren’s bullies to back off by exploiting psychology so they’d only fight me one on one.

  How could I explain any of that to Nobu?

  “Let’s say I had a fifth rule where I had to use one small and two large groups. Would that change your approach to the game?” He immediately replied.

  “Of course I would! That fundamentally changes everything! There’d be so many more situations to analyse!” His eyes lit up as he grabbed his pen and another piece of paper and I quietly smiled as I realised we were opposites.

  He solves problems like this for the enjoyment he gets, while I focus on the outcomes.

  That’s why he was so ineffective during ‘Democracy’ even before he accused Yaeko.

  There wasn’t anything for him to enjoy in ‘Democracy’.

  “Exactly, it cuts down the amount of options I have so you can ask more focussed questions and gain more points.”

  No, I can phrase it better.

  “You’d be able to create a better solution.” He gradually tilted his head as he remade eye contact.

  He finally got what I was saying.

  “But there was no guarantee of that…” I tried to leverage his enjoyment of solving a puzzle, but even that wasn’t enough. For some reason, he has an inherent aversion to straying away from certainties.

  I knew that if I was playing this game against myself, I’d have to change my strategy drastically.

  I would’ve weaponised psychological reads to win.

  I imagined that Nobu wouldn’t realise I also mapped out all of his scenarios and chose the one that loses the least points, but he did.

  I just got lucky that he couldn’t utlise that advantage.

  “You just explained how you were certain I thought through all those scenarios, so why wouldn’t you be confident about it?” If I’m going to break through to him, I need to explore why he strayed away from uncertainty.

  “Because you can never be sure of a deduction like that.” He spoke with confidence, but I needed more.

  “So you stick to objective logic because you’re scared of being wrong?” He quickly smiled before replying.

  “No, not at all.”

  His voice was firm.

  He wasn’t hiding anything.

  “If I was 100% confident in a psychological read, I’d integrate that into my calculations without hesitation.” He took a second to think about how he could articulate his thoughts.

  “It’s more like, I don’t understand how something as complicated and subjective as mind games could ever be more than even 50% accurate. You overlook one thing and it messes up your entire calculation, so there’s inherently no use of psychology in a logic problem.”

  Now I was the one taking a second to think.

  “Nobu, during ‘Democracy’, I explained to Yaeko that you checked her point total because you like her the least.” I saw his lip twitch, but I ignored it for now. “I remember you looking at me in complete shock.

  Now I understand why.

  You weren’t just shocked that I figured you out. You were shocked that I was so confident in it, I made it the central piece of my argument.” He smiled as he realised I was right.

  “Didn’t you realise how compelling my argument was? I based it solely on psychology, even stating simple quid pro quo as a reason for your choices. After that, I leveraged your psychological profile - the fact that you wouldn’t be able to betray the trust I showed in you.” I paused, giving him time to think.

  “Can’t you see how obvious it was that those arguments would work?” I waited for his reply.

  “Well, that’s different.” I scanned his face.

  There weren’t any markers of uncertainty.

  He wasn’t trying to convince himself.

  “You were trying to convince people I was innocent by giving them a plausible explanation. You didn’t need absolute certainty.” He didn’t deny the validity of my psychologically based methods, but instead he questioned the extent to which they work.

  “I’ll admit, if you want a plausible explanation then sure, psychology can be a powerful tool. But psychology shouldn’t have anything to do with certainties.” He doubled down on his stance, but I had another idea.

  I’ve always been wary of showing off my abilities to my friends, but Nobu already noticed it.

  What’s more, he didn’t seem repulsed or scared.

  He even seemed to have some respect for them.

  “Well, what if I gave you an example where I needed absolute certainty and it didn’t come from logic?”

  I paused so my follow up would land with greater emphasis.

  “What if when the stakes were at their highest and I couldn’t afford to lose, I tried using logic but it failed? What if it was psychology that gave me a guaranteed win?” Nobu stared blankly at me for a few seconds, but I could tell that it wasn’t dismissive. It felt closer to skepticism.

  “Well, I don’t know, but you can try.” He had the self-awareness to realise one example might not be enough, but I started explaining anyway.

  “During the last round of ‘Democracy’ when Yaeko stepped up and said she couldn’t save Mei because she didn’t want to give you redemption, do you remember what happened?” I knew he would, but I had to ask to make a point.

  “Yeah, you told Yaeko that it wasn’t right to punish Mei for someone else’s actions.” He answered without a single hesitation.

  “See, even here psychology can tell you things that logic can’t. I knew you’d remember because you value logic above all else and this was the most logical argument.” Nobu blankly stared at me for a second.

  I’m forcing him to accept it.

  “Going back to ‘Democracy’, do you remember that the logical argument failed? How Yaeko refused to save Mei?” He silently nodded so I continued.

  “It wasn’t logic that convinced her. It was Osamu’s emotional argument that saved Mei.” He was about to give a counter, but I wouldn’t let him.

  He won’t be able to refute my point.

  “I know you’re about to say that’s luck, or that my psychology didn’t have anything to do with that, but you’re wrong.” His mouth opened, but I already expected it. I knew he’d be surprised that I’d read him again.

  “Do you remember how I just sat back and let time tick after Yaeko refused to save Mei?” He nodded and I paused again for emphasis.

  “I waited precisely because I knew that letting Osamu speak up had a higher chance of success than confronting Yaeko head on.” He tried speaking up again, but I wasn’t done.

  “You might say I only realised Osamu would convince her after my logical attempt failed. If that was true, then sure I’d understand your counter argument of saying that the logical approach would still have been my best choice, but that’s where you’re wrong.” He started smiling as I read him once more.

  “I intended to use a logical argument to win, but I knew that wasn’t a guaranteed success because I understood her psychology.” I paused to gauge his reaction, and he seemed open to my suggestion so I kept going.

  “I understood that she was trying to turn you into a villain. That emotion trumps her logical processing, so you’re probably wondering why did I bother using a logical argument then?” He leaned forward as he curiously nodded his head.

  “My initial plan was to use psychology and attack her pride, using it to make her sacrifice her points to save Mei.” He nodded along as he understood my premise, so I made sure to watch for tells as I got into the more complicated part.

  “That’s when she revealed how giving you redemption made her feel worthless.”

  He looked down for a second, but I refused to slow down.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  “I’m going to ask you a very simple question.”

  I waited until he looked back up at me.

  “At that moment in time, there’s likely a 0% chance that she was going to vote to save Mei, so logically speaking, there would’ve been no harm in going for my “pride” plan anyway, right?”

  He thought for a second before replying.

  “I wouldn’t say it’s 0%, but I get your point. I agree.” He nodded to himself before nodding to me.

  “If I had, then don’t you think there’s a 95% chance Yaeko responds negatively?” I’m sure he could already see where I was going, but I finished my point regardless.

  “Instead, psychology told me there was an infinitely higher chance of Osamu speaking up and getting Yaeko to switch her vote.

  Logic could never tell me that.”

  I leaned back as I finished my argument.

  “Earlier, I told you that I relied on Osamu before my logical plan failed. Instead of sticking to a plan I knew was doomed to fail, psychology told me to find a new way out, and that was my only move to save Mei.”

  A few seconds passed before he spoke up.

  “I see…” he looked down and started thinking. Even if he couldn’t understand how I was so confident in psychology, he accepted the validity of my argument.

  “In that case… how do I learn to use psychology?”

  I was right.

  He wasn’t disturbed or scared by that side of me.

  I could see a quiet admiration.

  “Well… making a psychological read on someone is an incredibly logical process.” He leaned forward and nodded his head as I continued. “You observe a pattern of behaviours and you take what you know about a person. Then, you use that knowledge to explain the behavior.” He quickly started writing down this information in a diagram.

  “Then, once you can explain that behaviour, you can begin to understand someone’s psychological state and you can start predicting how they might react to different scenarios.” He continued writing.

  “That’s how I predicted what you were about to say when you almost interrupted me all those times. I understand how much you value logic, and because of that, I understood how you would try to construct a logical argument to protect your viewpoint.” He stopped writing for a second and he begrudgingly smiled at how accurate I was before he continued.

  “For example, you’re someone who cares a lot about being trusted. That’s why you felt so betrayed at everyone for even entertaining the idea that you lied.” His hand suddenly froze as he turned to face me.

  “I wouldn’t have expected someone so logical to care that much about it.” I watched as his fists curled and his upper body tensed up.

  “I made some observations and realised that for some reason, you really care about Yori’s opinion of you, and it looks like you hold more trust in him than anyone else.”

  He broke eye contact.

  “It’s as if you look up to him for some reason.” I paused, looking for tells.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because you see him as a better version of yourself.”

  I took a quick second to analyse him before continuing.

  “He’s a great leader and he’s amazing at mediating conflict. Two skills that you’re good at, but he’s better. That being said, why would you feel inferior to him?”

  He smiled at me as his distress turned into curiosity.

  “I’ve known him almost my entire life, he’s smart, but he’d never keep up with your logical thinking.” His lips slowly curled into a smile as he eagerly waited for me to continue.

  “It makes me wonder. Someone as logical as you… why didn’t you already think about that?”

  His smile instantaneously vanished.

  “Why do you irrationally feel inferior to him?”

  His fingers curled into a fist, but there was no tension.

  I patiently waited, giving him the space he needed to confront his weakness.

  “Tying that back into your behavior… your deep desire to be trusted. Even how detached you were when I brought you the soup. It makes so much sense now.” I paused and calmly waited for him to look me in the eye.

  “You care so much about everyone’s trust, and about being a perfect friend because you crave that validation.”

  I watched as his pupils dilated.

  I noticed his swallow.

  I looked at his fist as it tightened.

  “That begs the question, why do you crave it?” I waited for a few seconds, giving him time to process everything.

  “I don’t know enough about you to answer that, but now you know the power of psychology and why it trumps logic.” He looked me in the eyes, and I decided to continue.

  “Logic can only predict human behaviour if you have a list of assumptions or rules, but that’s never the case with how people think.”

  I held the silence for an extra second or two so I could let those words linger.

  “Psychology lets you understand people. Once you understand them, predicting them is easy.”

  I slowly leaned backwards as I watched Nobu. I’d just shown him that I understood his psychological weakness, but he didn’t seem scared or even upset.

  Instead, he seemed frustrated, as if I reminded him of his shortcomings.

  “I don’t know why you need validation, but I understand why you’re frustrated.”

  He looked me in the eyes again, and his jaw opened ever so slightly.

  “You value logic so much, which is why you’re so annoyed you can’t get over a weakness that you think is illogical.”

  He smiled in response as I read him yet again.

  “But even if you don’t think it’s a logical weakness, it must have stemmed from somewhere.” I looked away again because I needed a second to think. “If you’re frustrated that you can’t get over something you know is irrational, then that itself is irrational.” I chuckled, and he responded with a laugh of his own as I piqued his curiosity.

  “We’re humans.

  We have feelings and insecurities.

  We are inherently irrational.”

  I paused and looked him in the eyes, just to see he was already staring at me.

  “Holding yourself to a perfectly logical standard is inherently irrational.” He thought about it for a few seconds before he started to quietly laugh.

  “I guess you’re right about that.” He gently whispered through his smile.

  “But how can I accept that?” It was a valid question.

  “Well, isn’t it most logical to accept it?” He laughed again, but I needed to ignore it. “If that’s not enough though, it’s just something you have to learn to deal with. Either that, or analyse why you need validation. Figure out the deeper cause behind it, and take actions that address it.” He quickly picked up his pen.

  “If you manage to do all that, you won’t need to accept anything.” I paused as he nodded his head.“If you manage to do all of that, your "illogical" weakness will no longer exist.” He began writing, but I needed to give him a warning.

  “You need to know that it’ll take a long time, and you won’t magically get over your feelings of betrayal right now. What’s most important is that you realise you’re not alone, and if you need help figuring all of this out, or just want to talk, then I’m here to help you.”

  I warmly smiled as I met his gaze.

  I thought of Ren, and this conversation reminded me of the one I had with him. It was only a day ago, but with everything that’s happened, it’s felt like forever.

  “I appreciate it.” I saw the joy in his eyes as he continued writing, and I smiled since I knew this was another problem he’d have fun solving.

  After a few seconds, I looked at his diagram and I realised he was writing about the root cause of his need for validation, so I instantly looked away.

  If it was anyone else, I would’ve read everything so I could use it to help them.

  Nobu is different though.

  I never knew just how logical he was up until now. He’ll be able to figure things out, and if he doesn’t, I'm confident that he’ll be strong enough to ask for help.

  “Now that you’re busy, I’m gonna head back to my room.” He turned around and tried to politely stop me, but I’d done what I needed to.

  I still had Yori and Mei on my mind.

  “I need to change my shirt, it feels really sticky and it’s just annoying me, haha.” I turned around, standing up as I heard Nobu quietly laugh. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah, see you soon.” He gently smiled as he replied.

  I quickly thought about everything as I started walking to the door.

  I’d designed a mathematical game to play to Nobu’s strength, but I didn’t know how just how good his logical thinking was.

  All of my psychological deductions only followed that realisation.

  As I walked out of his room, I chuckled at how some revelations and breakthroughs truly do just come down to luck.