"Still hesitating?"
Hiyori gently called out. In a corner of the library, Mira sat frozen before her course preference form.
"Can't decide," Mira answered quietly.
Sora approached. "Aren't both good choices?"
"Both are good. That's the problem."
Hiyori sat down. "Literature and psychology departments, both interest you, right?"
Mira nodded. "I love literature. But I also want to study psychology. Choosing means abandoning one."
"That's painful," Sora understood.
"In psychology, this might be cognitive dissonance," Hiyori said.
"Cognitive dissonance?"
"When you hold two contradictory thoughts simultaneously, your mind becomes uncomfortable."
Sora supplemented. "Inside Mira, 'I want to study literature' and 'I want to study psychology' are competing."
"Both are important, so I can't choose," Mira murmured.
Hiyori gently asked, "Who decided you must choose?"
"The application only has space for one."
"But in life, you can learn more than one thing," Sora said.
Mira looked up. "What do you mean?"
"Even if you choose psychology now, you can self-study literature. The reverse is also true."
Hiyori continued. "Perfect choices might not exist."
"How do I accept an imperfect choice?"
Sora took out her notebook. "In cognitive dissonance theory, people tend to justify their choices to reduce discomfort."
"Justification?"
"For example, if you choose psychology, you might think 'Psychology has better job prospects' to convince yourself."
Mira frowned. "Isn't that deceiving yourself?"
"In a sense, yes. But that's not necessarily bad," Hiyori said.
"Why not?"
"Because it's a mental mechanism to reduce regret and move forward."
Sora gave an example. "But excessive justification is dangerous. Disparaging literature as 'worthless' to affirm your choice is unhealthy."
"Then what should I do?"
Hiyori proposed. "How about thinking 'For now, I'll prioritize psychology' while acknowledging both values?"
"For now?"
"Life is long. Today's choice isn't forever."
Mira's expression eased slightly. "Prioritizing, not eliminating?"
"Yes. Simultaneous might be impossible, but sequential is possible," Sora acknowledged.
Hiyori continued. "Besides, psychology and literature are actually close. Both seek human understanding."
"There's a path to integrate both?"
"There's bibliotherapy, and psychologists who research how stories affect the mind."
Light returned to Mira's eyes. "Not choosing one or the other, but which to study first."
"Changing perspective reduces dissonance," Sora explained. "Transform the choice from 'discarding' to 'ordering.'"
Hiyori smiled. "I hope you find a path that's uniquely yours."
Mira turned to the form. "I think I'm starting to see something."
"What's that?" Sora asked.
"I'll choose psychology. But I won't give up literature. I'll keep visiting the library."
"I think that's a good decision," Hiyori acknowledged.
"I can't completely eliminate cognitive dissonance," Mira said. "But I can accept it."
Sora wrote in her notebook. "Coexisting with conflict. That's also growth."
Mira's pen moved across the page. For the first time, not with hesitation, but with determination.
"Hearts waver because both are precious," Hiyori said quietly.
"So we don't need to fear the wavering."
The three looked out the window. The wavering of hearts doesn't stop. But maybe that's not weakness—it's proof of richness.