Shibuya Hal was the leader of Neo-Porte and a man who kept protecting his friends. But his kindness was slowly shaving away his own life. One day, overwhelmed by a relentless streaming schedule and mental exhaustion, he collapsed. When he woke up, he found himself in a strange, pure-white space. There, a self-proclaimed 'Manager of Fate,' a girl named Chloe, appeared. She told him, 'You were supposed to die three months from now. But I want to give you a chance to do it over.' Hal laughed it off
Neo-Porte Regret: Shibuya Hal Dies Twice - The Man I Trust Most: Behind the Smile
Morning light painted Shibuya white.
Neo-Porte HQ, fifth floor. Sunlight through the president's office window lit the scattered documents on the desk.
Shibuya Haru sat with that light at his back, staring at his PC screen. His light brown hair still had a few sleep-tousled strands. Beneath his amber eyes, traces of fatigue that hadn't faded. The old wristband on his right wrist caught the morning sun, its faded fabric showing through.
(One week, huh.)
Haru muttered in his mind.
One week had passed since he met the girl called Chloe in that pure white space. She told him he would die in three months. Neo-Porte would collapse. His comrades would die too.
And he had returned to the world one month prior.
He couldn't tell anyone the secret. Even if he did, no one would believe him. Chloe had said it clearly.
"The future of your death cannot be believed, no matter who you tell."
Haru gently traced the wristband on his right wrist with his left fingers. Three years ago, the five founding members of Neo-Porte bought matching ones. The fabric was frayed, the color faded. Even so, Haru had never taken it off.
(I have to protect everyone.)
Those words echoed heavily in his chest.
Haru shut down the PC.
He stood. Pulled on his suit jacket, tightened his tie. Looked at his face in the mirror.
(I'm already a dead man.)
Chloe's words repeated in his head.
"You will be treated as one who has already died."
The man in the mirror looked the same as always. A slightly tired thirty-year-old man. That was all.
But inside that body, the fate of death clung like a black stain.
Haru raised the corner of his mouth. Made a smile. His dimples faintly appeared.
"...I'm fine."
He said it aloud, convincing himself.
No one could notice. He couldn't make anyone anxious. As the president, he had to keep smiling.
Haru opened the door to the president's office.
Stepped into the hallway.
Descended the stairs toward the first-floor entrance. Partway down, he passed the second-floor streaming studio.
An IC card reader was installed by the studio door. Beside it, a small plate.
"Neo-Porte Streaming Studios 1–5"
Haru stared at the plate for a moment.
(Some of last month's archive data was missing.)
A small oddity he'd discovered right after the time leap, one week ago. Unexplained data loss.
Chloe's words resurfaced.
"The cause of your death lies in betrayal from within."
Haru shook his head.
(I'm overthinking it. Right now, it's about the work in front of me.)
He walked on.
When he reached the first floor, Sato Misaki was seated at the entrance reception. A twenty-eight-year-old receptionist. When Haru appeared, she flashed a bright smile.
"Good morning, President!"
Haru raised a hand in response.
"Morning, Sato-san. Thanks again today."
He kept his tone as usual. Warm, approachable.
"Yes! Oh, President, you have a meeting this afternoon. The documents are on your desk."
"Thanks. That helps."
Haru gave a light bow and crossed the entrance.
The glass automatic doors slid open. The outside air brushed cool against his skin.
Shibuya was starting to move.
From the direction of the scramble crossing, he could hear the murmur of crowds. Car horns. Morning sun reflecting off building walls.
Haru gazed at the scene for a while.
(In this city, I chased dreams with everyone.)
(I won't let those dreams be destroyed.)
Haru started walking.
A small café about five minutes on foot from Neo-Porte HQ. Buying morning coffee there was Haru's daily routine.
When he reached the shop, a familiar clerk called out from behind the counter.
"Ah, Shibuya-san. Good morning. The blend again today?"
"Yeah, the usual, please."
"Certainly. ...Um, Shibuya-san."
The clerk lowered his voice a little.
"Have you been tired lately? You don't look so well..."
Haru laughed.
"Do I look that way? I'm fine. Just a little short on sleep."
"Please don't push yourself. Everyone at Neo-Porte would be lost without you, Shibuya-san."
"Thanks. I'll be careful."
He took the coffee and left the shop.
The warmth of the cup spread through his palm.
(Everyone worries about me.)
(I have to live up to that.)
Haru took a sip of coffee.
Bitterness spread across his tongue.
Just then, the phone in his pocket vibrated.
He pulled it out. A message on the screen.
"Morning, Haru. What time are you coming in today?"
The sender was Mitsurugi Rei.
Co-founder and manager of Neo-Porte. The right-hand man Haru trusted most.
Haru typed a reply immediately.
"Outside now. Be back soon."
Sent.
(Rei is here. Because he's here, I've made it this far.)
Haru gripped the coffee cup tighter.
His trust in Rei swayed warmly in his chest.
That trust was, right now, the greatest support Haru had.
——
When Haru returned to Neo-Porte HQ, he headed for the fourth-floor talent lounge.
The lounge had sofas, a vending machine, and a small kitchen. A place where the talents rested between streams or chatted.
When he opened the door, someone was inside.
"Oh, Haru. Morning."
A tall man with black hair parted seven-to-three, wearing glasses. Mitsurugi Rei sat on the sofa, operating a tablet.
Twenty-eight years old. Neo-Porte co-founder and manager.
He wore his suit impeccably, a small piercing in his left ear. He had a habit of pushing up his glasses with his right hand. His smile was perfectly composed.
Haru sat down beside Rei.
"Morning, Rei. You're early again."
"Not as early as you. ...Out on the rounds again this morning? You push yourself too hard, Haru."
Rei set down the tablet and turned toward Haru.
Cold gray eyes gazed at Haru. That gaze seemed, somehow, to be appraising him.
But Haru didn't notice.
"No, I just went to buy coffee."
"I see. ...I was really worried after you collapsed. When I found you collapsed in the president's office a week ago, I felt like my heart would stop."
Rei's voice seemed to tremble slightly.
Something tightened deep in Haru's chest.
(I made Rei worry.)
"Sorry about that. I'm fine now. Sorry for worrying you."
"Don't apologize. I'm your manager. Managing your health is part of my job. ...Here, want some?"
Rei stood and walked toward the kitchen.
He stood before the coffee maker. With practiced hands, he took out cups and poured coffee.
Haru watched Rei's back.
(He's always like that.)
(When I push myself, he always notices and reaches out.)
Rei returned carrying two cups of coffee.
"Here, go ahead. Black was fine, right?"
"Ah, thanks."
Haru took the cup.
Rei sat beside Haru. A calm atmosphere flowed between them.
"...Hey, Rei."
Haru spoke quietly, gazing at his coffee.
"I really owe you. Alone, I couldn't have done anything."
Rei looked slightly surprised.
"What's this, all of a sudden, so formal?"
"Nothing. I just thought I should say it once in a while. ...Thanks, Rei."
Haru looked into Rei's eyes and smiled.
His dimples appeared.
Rei gazed back at that smile for just an instant.
Then his lips softened.
"...Thank you, too. I'm glad you're here."
That was when it happened.
Rei's gaze drifted to Haru's neck.
The left side of his neck. Where a small star-shaped mole was.
Just for an instant.
Something cold flickered in Rei's gray eyes.
A sharp light, like ice crystals.
But it was truly only an instant.
Haru couldn't possibly have noticed.
Rei immediately returned to his usual gentle expression.
"Let's do our best today too. I'll put together the documents for the afternoon meeting."
"That helps. I'm counting on you."
Haru drained his coffee.
The warm liquid passed down his throat.
(With Rei here, I'm fine.)
Haru repeated it in his mind.
——
Afternoon.
Haru was in the second-floor streaming studio.
He unlocked Studio 1 with his IC card.
Inside, cool air wrapped around his skin.
A space of about fifteen square meters surrounded by soundproof walls. High-performance PCs, microphones, cameras, lighting equipment — all neatly arranged.
Haru sat before the PC.
Turned it on.
(Last month's archive data. Let me check it once more.)
Haru accessed the server and displayed the data list.
File names lined up across the screen.
Last month's stream archives. Data organized by date.
Haru began re-examining, in detail, the missing section he'd found a week ago.
"...It's gone, after all."
Haru muttered.
The third week of last month. The three days of the large collab stream. That archive data was cleanly gone.
And not just gone.
Haru opened the file update history.
(The deletion timestamp is recorded.)
It was clearly there in the history.
Last week. Two in the morning.
Traces of someone with access rights manually deleting the data.
(It's not random loss. Someone deliberately targeted a specific period.)
Something cold spread through Haru's chest.
"...Who, and for what?"
Just then, the studio door opened.
"Oh, President. So you were here."
The speaker was Tanaka Yoshiaki. Forty-five years old. Equipment management supervisor.
A former sound engineer, with salt-and-pepper short hair and a stubbly beard. He managed all of Neo-Porte's streaming equipment single-handedly.
"Tanaka-san. Good timing. I wanted to ask you something."
Haru beckoned Tanaka over.
Tanaka approached at a jog.
"What is it?"
"Did you know last month's archive data is missing?"
Haru pointed at the PC screen.
Tanaka peered at it.
"Eh... ah, this. I noticed last week. It was gone from the backups too, so I thought it was strange."
"What disappeared was the third week of last month. The three days of the big collab. Any idea?"
Tanaka crossed his arms and tilted his head.
"Hmm... an idea, you say. ...Actually, last week, Rei-san borrowed the studio key late at night."
Haru's heart jumped.
"Rei did? Late at night?"
"Yes. Last Wednesday... no, maybe Thursday. Around two in the morning. He said he wanted to check the equipment, and borrowed the Studio 1 IC card."
"...Rei, checking equipment."
Haru desperately feigned calm, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
"Ah, come to think of it, Rei-san has been staying late a lot recently. Is he working on some big project?"
"...Who knows. I haven't heard the details."
Haru looked away from the PC screen.
His head spun.
(Rei borrowed the studio key late at night?)
(For what?)
(Could it be, to delete the data?)
Haru immediately denied his own thought.
(Don't be stupid. Rei would never do that.)
"...Tanaka-san, could you not tell anyone about this? I haven't figured anything out yet."
"Eh, ah, yes. Understood."
Tanaka nodded, a little bewildered.
"Thanks. That helps."
Haru turned his back to Tanaka.
His heartbeat quickened.
(Calm down. Rei said it was an equipment check.)
(The data disappearing and Rei borrowing the key might be coincidence.)
Haru told himself this over and over.
But deep in his chest, a small thorn remained stuck, refusing to come out.
——
Haru returned to the fifth-floor president's office.
When he closed the door, exhaustion rushed over him all at once.
He stood before the desk.
On it were stacked documents for the afternoon meeting.
Haru didn't sit. He looked out the window.
Shibuya was lit by the afternoon sun.
(Rei, betraying me?)
(Impossible.)
Haru shook his head.
He opened the desk drawer.
Took out a single file.
Documents from Neo-Porte's founding.
Haru opened the file.
On the first page was a table of capital investment ratios.
Haru looked at that column carefully, for the first time.
"...Rei's name is at the top."
He muttered.
At the very top of the investment ratios was Mitsurugi Rei's name.
Haru searched for his own name.
Second was Shibuya Haru.
(I see. Rei put up the most capital.)
Haru closed the file.
Guilt and gratitude mixed in his chest.
(He stayed behind the scenes and let me stand in front.)
(And yet, I'm trying to suspect him.)
Haru bit his lip.
(Rei is different.)
(He, of all people, would never betray me.)
Chloe's words echoed faintly in a corner of his mind.
"The caus
Novelia is an AI-powered platform to read original light novels and fan fiction, create your own in just a few taps, and chat with the characters. New, illustrated episodes arrive daily — free to start.