"If only I had made a different choice back then."
Haru murmured. Lunch break, Mio was beside her.
Mio unusually spoke. "Do you regret it?"
"Yeah. I should have stayed in the club."
"You can still go back now."
"But... time has passed."
Mio quietly asked. "Why do you regret?"
Haru thought. "Because I want to change the past."
"Can't be changed."
"I know. But I still think about it."
Ren approached. "Counterfactual thinking."
"What's that?" Haru asked.
"Imagining 'what if.' Thinking about possibilities different from reality."
"That's regret?"
"The core of regret," Ren answered. "Imagining the path not taken and thinking it would have been better than reality."
Mio supplemented. "But you don't know if it really would have been better."
"Don't know?"
"The outcome of the path not taken is only imagination."
Haru resisted. "But it surely would have been better."
"Why do you think so?" Ren asked.
"Because I dislike the present."
"Regret projects present dissatisfaction onto the past."
Haru fell silent. Mio continued. "If you had stayed in the club, there might have been other regrets."
"Like what?"
"No time, exhausted, grades dropped..."
"Maybe so."
Ren asked philosophically. "Is regret meaningless?"
"Not meaningless," Mio said unusually strongly.
"Why?"
"Regret is a trigger for learning."
Haru became interested. "Learning?"
"It makes you realize what you want to value."
Ren nodded. "Yes. Regret reflects values."
"Values?"
"You regret the club because you think it's important."
"...Maybe so."
Mio said quietly. "What you don't regret isn't important."
Haru pondered. "So regret isn't bad?"
"Depends on degree," Ren answered. "Being too trapped in the past prevents moving forward."
"But not regretting at all?"
"Unreflective," Mio expressed in one word.
"Balance."
"Yes. Looking back at the past while facing the future."
Haru suddenly thought. "But the past can't be changed. Isn't regret useless?"
"The past can't be changed. But the meaning of the past can be changed," Ren said.
"Meaning?"
"Whether you interpret quitting the club as 'failure' or as 'a step toward a new path.'"
Mio supplemented. "The event is the same. The interpretation differs."
"Can regret decrease depending on interpretation?"
"Sometimes."
Haru was confused. "But isn't that self-deception?"
"No," Ren answered. "Not changing facts, but changing perspective."
"Perspective..."
Mio gave an example. "Failure is also an opportunity for growth."
"Seeing both aspects."
"Yes. Seeing only one side fixes regret."
Haru took a deep breath. "So what can I learn from quitting the club?"
"Think for yourself," Ren encouraged.
"...I learned my limits. I could use time for other things."
Mio smiled. "That's also truth."
"But I'm still lonely."
"Acknowledge the loneliness too," Ren said. "Don't deny the emotion."
"The emotion remains?"
"Remains. But you're no longer dominated by it."
Mio looked outside the window. "The past doesn't change. But we change."
Haru smiled a little. "Deep."
"Only humans can regret," Ren said.
"Why?"
"Because we're conscious of time and can imagine possibilities."
"Animals don't regret?"
"Probably not. Future and past are contained in the now."
Mio said quietly. "Regret is proof of freedom."
"Freedom?"
"Because you could choose, you can regret."
Haru understood. "Without choices, no regret."
"Yes. Regret is the price of freedom."
The bell rang. The past doesn't change. But the future is open.
"Next time I'll make choices I won't regret," Haru said.
Mio shook her head. "You'll regret again. That's okay."
"That's okay?"
"Move forward while regretting."
Ren smiled. "That's human."