"Sometimes I don't understand my own feelings."
Yuki said quietly.
Aoi turned around. "When?"
"For example, toward someone. Whether I like them or they're just a friend."
"An ambiguous state."
Riku asked, "Can that be explained with information theory?"
Aoi thought briefly. "Yes. It's a problem of noise and signal."
"Noise?"
"In communication, noise mixes with the signal. The original message becomes unclear."
Yuki understood. "Emotions also get buried in noise?"
"In a sense. Various noises add to the signal of true feelings."
"What kind of noise?"
Aoi wrote on the whiteboard.
"External noise: surrounding expectations, social pressure Internal noise: past experiences, anxiety, fatigue"
"So many..." Riku murmured.
"Yes. That's why extracting the pure signal is difficult."
Yuki asked, "So how do we know our true feelings?"
"Noise removal. A basic signal processing technique."
"How?"
"First, understand the noise characteristics. Then apply a filter."
Riku became interested. "A mental filter?"
"Metaphorically. For example, 'setting others' opinions aside temporarily.' That's filtering external noise."
Yuki wrote in her notebook. "Internal noise?"
"Self-observation. Recognizing 'I'm tired now, so my judgment might be distorted.'"
"Metacognition."
"Yes. By observing your own state, you can correct for noise."
Riku asked, "But can noise be completely eliminated?"
"Impossible," Aoi answered. "Complete noise removal can't be done. Some uncertainty always remains."
"So it stays ambiguous forever?"
"Not necessarily. You can increase the signal-to-noise ratio, S/N ratio."
Yuki understood. "Either strengthen the signal or reduce the noise."
"Exactly. With emotions, spending more time facing your feelings. That strengthens the signal."
"Time to face them..."
Aoi continued. "Also, reducing noise sources is effective. Excessive information, others' opinions, social media, etc."
Riku laughed. "Like a digital detox?"
"That's also a type of noise reduction."
Yuki asked another question. "Is ambiguity itself a bad thing?"
Aoi thought. "No, not necessarily."
"What do you mean?"
"In information theory, uncertainty is represented by entropy. High entropy means broad possibilities."
"Possibilities?"
"An ambiguous state means multiple outcomes are equally likely. That's also flexibility."
Riku understood. "The benefit of not jumping to conclusions?"
"Yes. Premature judgment means discarding information."
Yuki asked, "So when should we decide?"
"When sufficient information is gathered. Or when the cost of decision exceeds the cost of delay."
"Difficult judgment."
"Yes. That's why there's a mathematical theme called the optimal stopping problem."
Aoi drew a diagram. "Balance between information gathering and decision. Knowing when to stop is important."
Riku said, "But with feelings, sometimes there's no need to rush, right?"
"True. Especially with your own emotions. Time can clarify the signal."
Yuki smiled. "Time as a filter?"
"Good expression. With time's passage, temporary noise attenuates. Only essential signals remain."
"So that's why they say 'time will tell.'"
"Partially. But just leaving it to time is passive. Active observation is also needed."
Riku wrote in his notebook. "Ambiguous feelings and noise are similar."
"Not just similar, same structure," Aoi confirmed. "The essence of uncertainty is common."
Yuki asked, "So eventually it becomes clear?"
"Not completely. But clear enough. 100 percent certainty isn't needed. 80 percent is often sufficient."
"80 percent?"
"The remaining 20 percent is always unknown. Accepting that is part of maturity."
The three sat quietly.
The sunset illuminated the club room, shadows mixing in complex patterns.
Signal and noise, clarity and ambiguity—they coexist.
And even in that ambiguity, there is meaning.