Monday to Wednesday, Wednesday to Friday. Those three days of memory felt strangely hazy inside Takemichi. He'd attended classes. Eaten lunch. Walked the hallways. But none of it had felt real—none of it had texture. Everything existed beyond a thin membrane, and the sounds of the classroom, the teacher's voice, the May light streaming through the windows, none of it reached inside him. From his seat in the last row by the window, Takemichi kept his elbow on the desk and stared outside. He hadn't gone to the rooftop. Not once in three days. He'd come as far as the iron door, but his feet had stopped before his hand could touch the lock. He didn't know if he had the right to go there anymore. The air from the moment Yuu had whispered, "Maybe I shouldn't have gotten close after all," clung to his body along with the cold of the fence. The sensation of Hinata's hands pushing against his chest still lingered somewhere. He hadn't spoken to Hinata. Three days, and she sat diagonally in front of him, and he hadn't made a sound. He'd felt her gaze turn toward him. But he couldn't lift his face. He didn't know what to say. He knew the words for an apology. But he couldn't see what would remain after apologizing. It was the same with Yuu. They sat next to each other, and in three days they'd exchanged zero words. Murase-sensei had called on Takemichi during class. There was a pause of several seconds, then he'd read the answer from the textbook. His voice sounded mechanical. Murase-sensei had stared at him for just a moment, then moved his gaze to the next student. The after-school chime rang. While his classmates began preparing to leave, Takemichi didn't move. He didn't have the energy to pick up his bag. Or perhaps he simply didn't want to think about what lay beyond the classroom door. ──────── The cherry blossom trees in front of the main gate were in their leaf stage today as well. May light filtered through the green leaves, casting small shadows on the ground. Takemichi passed through the gate, carried along by the flow of students heading home, and stopped in that light. A man stood in front of the cherry blossom trees. He stood apart from the flow of departing students, arms crossed. Leather jacket, piercings. Black hair cut short with a single red streak. A large scar across his left eyebrow. A small tattoo beside his mouth. A frame that easily reached 182 centimeters stood like a wall in front of the gate. Cold red eyes caught Takemichi's face. Several students nearby noticed the man and stirred uneasily. No one spoke, but everyone took a slightly wider path around him as they passed. The man paid their gazes no attention. He looked only at Takemichi. Takemichi's feet naturally came to a stop. "[cold]So you're Hanagaki Takemichi" His voice was low. It was less a question than a confirmation. Takemichi nodded. At that single gesture, the man's expression hardened. The next instant, Takemichi's collar was seized in both hands. He felt himself lifted slightly off the ground. His vision rose. His back struck the outer wall of the school building beside the gate. A dull impact ran down his spine. The rough texture of the concrete wall dug into his shoulder blades. Someone cried out nearby. A few students who'd been heading home stopped and looked over. The man pulled Takemichi's collar closer, bringing his face near. "[angry]Don't get near Yuu" His lips moved slightly. His voice was low but sharp. It cut through the air like a blade. "[angry]She's not your counselor" The man's knee drove into Takemichi's stomach. Air left his lungs. No sound came out. His body tried to fold, but the grip on his collar held him up. Takemichi's feet slid slightly across the concrete. He didn't fight back. It wasn't that his arms wouldn't move. His body certainly knew how to respond. The body that had survived dozens of gang conflicts during his time in the Tokyo Manji Gang carried reflexes for impact. But now, that instinct was completely silent. There was no will to strike back. He leaned his weight against the wall. The man's eyes were close. "[angry]Don't drag someone like you, someone so half-hearted, into Yuu's life" His voice rose. A shout. The students remaining in front of the gate all took a step back. "[angry]She's already broken enough. Don't——" His voice trembled. It was only for an instant. The edge of his voice touched something that wasn't anger. Takemichi heard it clearly, his back still pressed against the wall. "Stop!" Running footsteps echoed. From the direction of the school building. Silver hair swayed. It was Yuu. The silver ring in her left ear caught the evening light. Golden eyes looked at the man's back. Yuu clung to the man's arm. "[crying]Big brother, stop" Her voice trembled. There were no tears. But her voice alone shook finely. The man's body went rigid. The moment he was called by his sister's name—Takemichi saw the change in his expression clearly. His anger crumbled for just an instant. What lay beneath the anger surfaced for only a moment. It was fear. Then regret mixed in. He quickly returned to a cold expression, but that instant was unmistakably there. The man released Takemichi's collar. Takemichi's body slid down the wall, and he sank to the ground. "[cold]Let's go" The man pulled Yuu's arm. She was dragged along. But just before they left the gate, she turned back once. She looked at Takemichi, sitting against the wall. There was no apology in her eyes. No pity either. Only pain. The kind of pain Yuu carried, directed straight at him. Then the two figures disappeared toward Komatsuhara Central Avenue. Takemichi remained with his back against the wall, his finger touching the corner of his mouth. He tasted blood. Students still watched, but Takemichi didn't see them. The man's voice echoed in his head. ——She's already broken enough. The fact that his voice had trembled. Takemichi thought slowly, feeling the cold concrete against his back. The man hadn't wanted to protect Yuu. He was dominated by the fear of her breaking further. Under the guise of protection, he was actually venting his own fear onto Takemichi. Behind the words "don't get near Yuu," Takemichi heard another voice: "don't scare me anymore." Something moved quietly inside Takemichi's chest. The protector binds the protected through the act of protecting. The year and a half he'd spent smiling in front of Hinata looked different now. He'd kept saying "it's okay" to reassure her. But in truth, he'd just wanted to hide from Hinata how broken he was. By continuing to wear the mask, he'd escaped to a place her hands couldn't reach. He'd tried to protect her, but instead pushed her away. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. Takemichi wiped it with the back of his hand and stood up. ──────── Second floor of an apartment in Komatsuhara Town. His mother hadn't come home yet. Her evening shift at the part-time job ended in the evening. Takemichi entered his six-mat room still in his school uniform and sat on the floor. He pressed a damp towel to the corner of his mouth. The wound was shallow. He opened a drawer. From the back, he pulled out a notebook with a black cover. He turned the pages. Names of comrades, dates, places. Things he'd written to keep his memories from disappearing as he repeated time leaps. A list of characters he'd read over dozens and hundreds of times in the past year and a half. His hand stopped on the page for Minakami Souta. The characters "gomen" beside the name. Takemichi brought the desk lamp closer. He looked at the handwriting. He already knew it wasn't his own. The difference in pressure. The slant of the letters. Shaky, powerless characters with none of Takemichi's habits. Tonight, for the first time, the reason became clear. He'd repeated time leaps dozens of times. In one timeline, Takemichi had met the boy. He'd known his name. There had been time spent together. But that timeline had been overwritten by Takemichi's choice. History was rewritten, and that timeline disappeared. In the instant of disappearance—the boy had snatched Takemichi's notebook. And written only his own name. As a wordless will: don't forget me. Takemichi exhaled. That memory had always been there. Buried beneath other memories in the confusion of dozens of time leaps, untouched and sunk. Tonight, Riku's shout had triggered it to surface. The moment he understood why those three characters "gomen" had been written in a hand that wasn't his own—something made a sound in Takemichi's throat. His voice came out. Takemichi couldn't remember the last time he'd cried like this. From Episode 1 through Episode 5, he hadn't shed a single tear. Not on the rooftop, not in front of Hinata, not in front of Yuu. But tonight, in his room where no one could see, his voice came out. It was a sob. Anger came—anger at himself for keeping the name of the life he couldn't save vague for so long, lost in the confusion of dozens of time leaps. And at the same time—relief came at the fact that the name still remained in this notebook. The boy from the disappeared timeline had written his own name. The boy Takemichi couldn't protect had wished for Takemichi not to forget. That fact reached Takemichi for the first time tonight. Crying, Takemichi understood. The reason he couldn't show his true face to Hinata or Yuu became clear tonight. It was fear of showing them the self he couldn't protect. The mask wasn't for others—it was to hide his own guilt. It had always been that way. By continuing to smile and say "it's okay," he'd managed not to see how broken he was. He cried on. In the light of the desk lamp, the three characters "gomen" seemed to sway. Takemichi wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked at those characters. ──────── Deep in the night, Takemichi left his room. Still in his school uniform. Without his bag. He descended the apartment stairs and stepped out onto the night streets of Komatsuhara Town. Street lamps dotted the way. Insects chirped somewhere. There was a slight breeze, and the temperature of the May night touched his cheek. He walked south. He passed in front of Kissaten Harunoki. The lights were off. The shutter was down. He continued walking down the road that led to Kitahara Station Front Building. He passed through the alleys of the residential area and emerged onto the main street. In front of Daily Shop Kitahara Kaminari, Takemichi confirmed the direction he'd come from Komatsuhara Town heading south. Kitahara Mental Health Clinic—one of the designated counseling facilities under the Kaisei system—had its entrance on the third floor of Kitahara Station Front Building. It was a place Takemichi had visited once a month until two months ago. He took the elevator to the third floor. The emergency window for late-night operations was lit. The night staff at the reception desk looked up. Seeing Takemichi's face, they seemed slightly surprised, but quickly gestured him in. The counselor came. A woman in her thirties. The same person Takemichi had seen until two months ago. She wore round glasses and spoke quietly. Seeing Takemichi, she said nothing and offered him a seat. Takemichi sat. For a while, he was silent. He didn't know where to begin or what to say. He didn't mention the time leaps. That wasn't tonight's issue. But before that, words came out. "[serious]I hurt someone important to me" The counselor listened quietly. "[serious]I wanted to protect them... but I was breaking them instead" His voice grew hoarse. He tried to continue, but faltered. Still, it came out. "[sad]I never came back. My body is here, but my heart is still on that battlefield" The moment those words left him, Takemichi himself was slightly surprised. He'd never put it into words before. But tonight, for the first time, he saw it clearly. From when he had the ability, and after—it had alway