Kaito Ishida stood in the school hallway, frozen in place.
The faint buzzing of the overhead lights.
The distant chatter of students.
The steady ticking of a nearby clock.
Everything felt muffled, like the world was submerged beneath a thick, oppressive fog. He couldn't hear his own heartbeat, but he felt it—pounding in his chest, suffocating him, drowning him in a silence he couldn't escape.
He turned his head slowly—left, then right—and then tilted his gaze upward to the ceiling, searching for something, anything to anchor him in this reality. His eyes flicked to the floor, tracing the same scuff marks and faded tiles that had been there every day. Same hallway. Same dull fluorescent lights. Same nightmare.
His hand shook as he reached up to his arm, flexing his fingers, making sure they were still attached. His skin felt cold, stiff, like a puppet whose strings were too tight.
But he didn't feel real.
"This is… the third time, right?" he whispered, his voice barely rising above the hum of the lights. It was strange how the question came so easily now. Time had blurred together, folding in on itself like some impossible riddle.
No one answered.
His lips curled into a bitter smile, hollow and empty. "Or was it the fourth? I can't even remember anymore."
A laugh bubbled up from deep within, but it died in his throat, strangled by the weight of guilt that sank deeper into his chest. He pressed a hand against the wall, steadying himself. His legs were already moving, like some reflex that didn't require his permission.
Slow steps. Slower breaths.
His shoulders sagged, his gaze dropping to the ground. The weight of it all—his failure, his helplessness—felt heavier than before. A storm brewed inside his mind, a whirlwind of unspoken questions that he couldn't escape.
Why do I keep coming back?
What am I supposed to change?
Why can't I save them?
Kaito stopped in the middle of the hallway, his hands trembling at his sides. His fists clenched in frustration, his knuckles whitening.
"Dammit…"
The rage, the helplessness, the frustration—all of it boiled over in a sudden burst. His arm swung back, and he slammed his fist against the wall with all the force he could muster.
Thud.
Pain shot through his hand immediately—sharp, blinding. The wall didn't budge. The pain felt real. At least that was something. It wasn't a cruel illusion.
But neither was it enough to stop the storm in his mind.
"Why can't I do anything right?!" His voice cracked, trembling with the rawness of his frustration. The sound of it echoed down the empty hallway. He felt small. He felt weak. He felt… useless.
"Um… excuse me?"
The voice broke through the storm like light through thick fog. Kaito turned, startled.
A girl stood a few feet away. She looked his age, maybe younger. She had long, blonde hair, neatly brushed, and her eyes—clear, warm, and full of understanding—peered at him through thin glasses. She exuded a quiet, calming presence, like sunlight after a long, rainy night.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft but genuine, laced with concern.
Kaito straightened up quickly, trying to mask the panic and anger that had overtaken him just moments ago.
"Yeah. I'm fine," he said, his voice tight, forced. He didn't even believe his own words.
The girl's eyes flicked to his hand, still clutching it in a futile attempt to hide the bleeding knuckles.
"You're bleeding," she observed, her brow furrowing slightly.
Kaito stuffed his hand into his pocket, not meeting her eyes. "It's nothing."
She hesitated, her gaze lingering on him, but after a moment, she smiled slightly. "Well, okay. If you say so."
There was a beat of silence. Kaito looked away, feeling the weight of her attention like a spotlight. He wasn't used to random people talking to him—especially not after the wreck his life had become. He was used to isolation. To silence.
"So..." she said, trying to bridge the gap between them. "What's your name?"
Kaito blinked, slightly surprised. He looked back at her, unsure how to respond. His mouth felt dry, but he sighed softly and gave in.
"Kaito. Kaito Ishida."
Her eyes lit up, just a little. "That's a cool name," she said, a glint of amusement in her voice.
He stared at her. "Cool? Really?"
"Yeah," she said, laughing a little, her voice light. "It sounds like someone out of an anime or something."
Kaito let out a surprised chuckle, the sound so unfamiliar to him that he wasn't sure where it came from. It felt strange, hearing someone treat him like he was just… normal. Like he wasn't carrying the weight of a world he couldn't save.
"What about you?" he asked, his voice softer now. "What's your name?"
The girl smiled again. This time, there was something warmer about it.
"Naomi. Naomi Ishikawa."
He repeated the name quietly under his breath. "Naomi…"
"Yeah?" She tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow.
Kaito scratched his cheek, suddenly feeling awkward. "Nothing. Just… your name's kinda cute."
Naomi blinked, and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. She turned her face away slightly, as though trying to hide it, but there was no venom in her voice when she spoke next.
"Stupid," she muttered, though the word held no sting.
Kaito smiled for real this time. The warmth in his chest was unexpected, but it was there—small, but real. It felt like the first moment in ages when he wasn't consumed by the fire. When he wasn't drowning in the loop.
And then—
Boom.
The rumble echoed through the hall like thunder in his chest. His smile faded instantly.
"No..." His heart began to race again.
He turned sharply, instinctively, his mind already racing. The sickening dread filled his stomach like a punch.
He ran to the nearest window. His breath caught in his throat.
Black smoke.
In the distance.
The same direction. The same burning, suffocating sensation in his chest. It was happening again.
"No, no, no—!" He bolted forward, adrenaline flooding his veins, his legs moving faster than they had in days. He pushed past the other students, ignoring their calls as they tried to stop him.
"Stop, Kaito! What's going on?!" Naomi's voice reached him, but he couldn't stop. Not this time.
Not when he was this close.
Street after street, corner after corner. He barely felt his legs burning, barely heard the sound of his own breaths as they came in ragged gasps. The distance stretched in front of him, but he kept going.
And finally—there.
His house.
His street.
The smoke was thick, now. Red and blue lights flashed in every direction. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he staggered forward, his hands reaching out, shaking.
The fire had already been put out, but it was too late. He saw the ambulance. The stretchers. The white sheets.
His legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the pavement, his hands fist-clenched into the ground.
"No… four minutes. I was only four minutes late…"
Tears spilled from his eyes, a torrent that he couldn't control. The sobs wracked his body, coming out in sharp, uneven gasps.
"Why can't I save them? I come back. I try. I run. But nothing changes!"
He buried his face in his arms, screaming into the earth beneath him as the world around him blurred into a mess of flashing lights and distant voices.
And then—
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The hallway.
Again.
He was standing. Alone.
Same time. Same place.
Same silence.
Kaito blinked, and the tears clung to his eyelashes, still wet, still fresh.
"Again…" he whispered.
But this time, it wasn't fear in his voice.
It was anger.