Yakumo Beni died. On her way home from a stream, a traffic accident. A sudden end. But when she opens her eyes, she's back in a familiar streaming studio. The date is three months before her death. Beni is confused, but she sees this as a chance. She knows that her friends in VSPO! will soon face misfortune one after another. Because in her previous life, she saw it all. Her best friend, Kurumi Nozomi, falls ill and retires. Her senior, Tachibana Hinano, gets caught in a scandal and breaks down.
The Mint-Green Rewinder - Memories of Rain, Awakening of Spring
...Hah... hah!
The moment consciousness returned, air rushed into her lungs. Her throat hurt. Her body arched on its own, desperate for oxygen.
What filled her vision was a familiar white ceiling.
The round glow of fluorescent lights. The low hum of air conditioning. Someone laughing in the distance. The sound of a soundproof booth door opening. The smell of coffee creeping deep into her nose.
(...Where am I?)
She tried to sit up, and her arms trembled. The feel of a sofa. A firm cushion. She recognized this place.
It was the break room of the Vspo! streaming studio.
She looked at the clock on the wall. A little past ten in the morning. Spring light outside the window. Cherry blossom petals drifting in the wind.
Something was wrong.
She had definitely been hit by a truck.
It was a rainy night. Shibuya Scramble Crossing. The light turned green, and just as she started to cross—light. Truck headlights. The sound of brakes. Then, nothing.
So why was she here?
With trembling hands, she searched her pocket. Her phone was there. She turned on the screen.
The instant the date registered, something clenched tight around her heart.
March. Exactly three months before that day.
...Why?
Her voice wouldn't come out properly.
She took a deep breath. Once. Twice. Still, her fingertips wouldn't stop shaking.
This wasn't a dream. No dream smelled this real, sounded this real, felt this real.
She sat back on the sofa and clasped her hands together on her knees. Her nails dug into her palms. It hurt. Even that pain was vivid.
(...I came back?)
The moment that thought surfaced, something burst in the back of her mind.
Images flooded in like a deluge.
A hospital bed. White sheets. On them, Kurumi Nozomi's profile, growing thinner by the day. IV tubes. A voice on the verge of disappearing, calling her name.
A computer screen. Countless insults overflowing on social media timelines. Tachibana Hinano's name. A flame war. Clipped videos. The process of her gradually stopping to smile. And finally, that voice in a stream, murmuring only "I'm quitting."
And—her own death.
Rain. Reflective asphalt. Traffic light. White light. Impact. Weightlessness. Then, blackout.
She remembered everything. She knew everything.
This is... just too cruel...
Before she realized it, tears were falling. She tried to stop them, but they wouldn't stop. She stifled her voice, covering her mouth with both hands.
Why did only she remember?
Why was only she sent back?
She didn't know. She didn't understand anything.
But there was one thing she was certain of.
This was a chance.
Before Nozomi collapsed. Before Hinano broke. Before she died.
Maybe she could do something.
She opened the notes app on her phone. Her fingers trembled, and she mistyped over and over. Still, she desperately typed the words in.
'Nozomi health abnormality late April'
'Hinano flame war May stream clipped video trigger'
'Me death June Shibuya Scramble Crossing 11:47 PM rain truck'
No matter how much she wrote, it didn't feel like enough. She had to remember more. More.
She wiped the tear-blurred screen again and again. Her sleeve grew wet.
That was when it happened.
A knock on the door.
"Yakumo-san, I'm coming in."
Her heart jumped at the voice.
She hurriedly wiped her tears and hid her phone under her knees. She steadied her breathing. There was no mirror, but she was sure her face looked terrible right now.
Even so—she had no choice but to do this.
The door opened.
The person who entered was Manager Todo. A man in his forties. A loose shirt with dark brown chinos. Behind his round glasses, his eyes were always gentle. But at times like this, they always turned just a little sharper.
He was tall. Probably 180 centimeters. Broad-shouldered, too. He was the oldest staff member at Vspo!, and he looked after Beni and the others like they were his own daughters.
"You look pale. I keep telling you not to push yourself before a stream."
As he spoke, he held out a paper cup. Steam rose from it. It smelled like hojicha.
Beni took it.
The instant she did, another scene flashed through her mind.
Her funeral in the previous life.
Her own portrait, surrounded by white flowers. In front of it, Manager Todo quietly wiping his tears. Sneaking it, so no one would see.
She knew that sight.
Because after she died, she had watched her own funeral in a ghost-like state.
(...No, if I remember this...)
Her emotions threatened to crumble.
But if she broke down here, it was over.
Beni put on her usual smile.
I just didn't get enough sleep! You worry too much, Todo-san.
Her voice came out more normally than she expected. Even she was surprised by how natural it sounded.
Todo furrowed his brow slightly.
"Really? Something feels... different about you."
Different? What's that supposed to mean? I'm perfectly fine.
She stood up and did a light jump on the spot. Her head spun a little, but she didn't let it show.
Todo still looked skeptical. But he didn't press further.
"Well, don't overdo it. Today's stream is in the evening. Rest until then."
Thanks. Really, I'm fine.
Todo turned back once to look at Beni.
There was a flicker of worry in his eyes.
But he said nothing and closed the door.
His footsteps faded away.
Beni collapsed onto the spot.
Her heart was still pounding. Her fingertips were cold as ice.
(...Sorry, Todo-san.)
She had lied.
She had lied to that man.
But she couldn't tell him the truth. 'Actually, I died three months from now. Right now I've time-leaped to three months before that.' Who would believe that?
She'd be treated as a lunatic.
Besides—even if someone did believe her.
If that ended up dragging Todo-san into this.
The man who had been crying at her funeral in the previous life.
She didn't want to make him sad anymore.
So this was something she would do alone.
Beni let out a small breath and opened her phone again.
The notes she'd written earlier were still on the screen.
She stared at them.
(Nozomi first.)
Kurumi Nozomi. She'd joined Vspo! at the same time as Beni—same generation. A year younger, but they got along well and streamed together often. Bright, kind, and a little clumsy.
In the previous life, she had collapsed from illness.
At first, everyone thought it was just fatigue. From streaming too much.
But it wasn't.
It was something far more serious.
By the time anyone noticed, it was already close to too late.
She ended up retiring from streaming.
The name of the illness—she couldn't remember. Her memory was blurred right there. But she remembered the timing of the early symptoms. Late April. A little before Golden Week.
It was March now, so there was still over a month.
She could make it.
She would make it, no matter what.
Beni added a line to her notes.
'Take Nozomi to the hospital.'
Looking at those words, her heart calmed just a little.
There was something she could do.
That made her happy.
——
She left the studio in the early afternoon.
She told Todo-san she was heading home a little early. He looked worried, but she laughed it off.
She got on the train and headed for the station near her apartment.
Spring scenery flowed past the window. Cherry blossoms. Blue sky. White clouds.
It was so beautiful, and yet her heart wouldn't clear at all.
The train was nearly empty. Probably because it was a weekday afternoon. An old woman sitting across from her was knitting. A young man beside her was on his phone. Everyone was living their ordinary lives.
She had been doing the same until just moments ago.
Streaming normally, laughing normally, living normally—and then dying.
Dying was this sudden.
Beni looked at her own face reflected in the window.
Mint-green hair. The ends loosely curled. Light purple eyes, cat-like and slightly upturned. Fair skin. The choker around her neck felt strangely tight. The star-shaped earring on her left ear caught the window light and glinted.
On her right wrist was a thin misanga.
She, Nozomi, and Hinano had made matching ones together.
In the previous life, she had worn it until she died.
She hadn't seen a photo of her corpse, but somehow she felt sure of it.
Beni gently traced the misanga with her finger.
(I'll protect you this time.)
She whispered it in her heart.
But those words still reached no one.
——
Her apartment was a ten-minute walk from the station. An old building, but the room was spacious and the soundproofing was decent. Not a bad environment for streaming.
She unlocked the door and went inside.
When she turned on the light, her usual room appeared. Bed. Desk. Computer. Monitor. Microphone. Game console. On the wall, a group photo with the Vspo! members. Everyone was smiling.
She was in that photo. Nozomi was there. Hinano was there.
None of them knew yet.
What was about to happen.
Beni turned on her computer. While waiting for it to boot, she grabbed tea from the fridge. One sip, and she felt slightly relieved.
She opened a note-taking app on the desktop.
Looking at her phone notes, she began organizing the information.
First, about Nozomi.
In late April, there was a change in her condition. Specifically—she couldn't remember. Sorry, Nozomi. But she was fairly sure it started with cold-like symptoms. Fever. Cough. Fatigue.
And it dragged on.
By the time she went to the hospital, it was already close to too late.
So this time, she would take her to the hospital early.
Even if she had to force her, at the stage where it seemed like just a cold.
Next, about Hinano.
The flame war happened in May. The trigger was something said during a stream. A clipped video spread in a malicious form.
Hinano said she didn't care at first. She acted tough.
But she was gradually driven into a corner.
In the end, she announced her retirement in a stream, tears streaming down her face.
Beni had watched that stream in real time.
She couldn't stop it.
She couldn't do anything.
This time would be different.
Before the stream that triggered it, she would do something. She would protect her.
And—about herself.
June. A rainy night. Shibuya Scramble Crossing. 11:47 PM.
A truck running a red light.
That was the situation in which she had died in the previous life.
Beni carefully wrote the information into her notes.
Date and time. Location. Weather. Circumstances.
She had to think of a way to avoid this.
But—
(If I can avoid it...)
(Then what happens to the world?)
That question caught in the corner of her mind.
If she changed history, wouldn't something happen?
That vague unease.
But now wasn't the time to think about it.
First, she had to act.
Beni closed her notes and stood up.
She looked outside the window.
It was already night. Streetlights were beginning to flicker on one by one.
That was when.
Something caught the edge of her vision.
Under a streetlight. Across the road.
A black figure.
Wearing a coat. Face, invisible. Blurry.
Who was that?
At this hour, in a place like this.
Beni strained her eyes.
But the next instant, it was gone.
In the blink of an eye. Just a moment.
...What was that?
Her muttered voice was so quiet even she couldn't hear it.
Was it her imagination?
Maybe she was tired and hallucinating.
Beni closed the curtains.
But somewhere in her heart, something cold remained.
——
That night, Beni couldn't sleep much.
Even in bed, her mind kept spinning.
The previous life. What was to come. Nozomi. Hinano. Herself.
And—that black figure.
She finally fell asleep toward morning.
She woke at nine AM. Strong sunlight was coming through the gap in the curtains.
Her body felt heavy. Her head hurt a little too.
But she had to get up.
Today was the day she would contact Nozomi.
Beni got out of bed and headed to the washroom.
She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and looked in the mirror.
—Something was off.
The pinky finger of her left hand.
It felt somehow wrong.
Beni held her left hand up to the mirror.
The tip of her pin
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