Every morning the same morning comes. So I will keep protecting the one who loves you most.
Haruto lives in an ordinary provincial city, enjoying a peaceful high school life. Clear skies, the same classroom, the unchanging smiles of friends. Every morning his little sister Hina jumps into his bed, his childhood friend Mao greets him with a smile, and his junior Hinata waits for him at the shoe lockers. Haruto has no idea why he's so popular. He just accepts the gentle days as they come.
Then a transfer student named Tsukasa appears. She's a tsundere—always putting up a tough front, ye
Every morning the same morning comes. So I will keep protecting the one who loves you most. - The Monday that rewinds -- This time, I will protect you.
That's wrong, he thought.
The instant he woke, Haruto's left wrist was burning hot.
On the bed, Haruto was clutching his own left wrist. His heart pounded deep in his ears, thump-thump, thump-thump. Morning light slipped through the gap in the curtains, dyeing the room white.
(It's Monday.)
Haruto stared up at the ceiling and let out a breath.
Yesterday, Tsukasa disappeared. Saturday at dusk, on the bank of the Kiriha River, she had confessed to him through her tears. I love you. I always have, for so long. And then — tomorrow, I'll be erased too. Just as she'd said, by Sunday morning, Tsukasa had vanished from the classroom, from the world, existence and all.
In the classroom without Tsukasa, Haruto had sat alone, staring out the window.
Mao disappeared. Hinata disappeared. Tsukasa disappeared.
All three of them, gone from before Haruto's eyes.
(And yet—)
Haruto gazed at his left wrist. The old scar floated faintly in the morning light. When it had formed, how it had formed — he couldn't remember. But this morning, the scar held a distinct heat.
(Why is it so hot?)
Haruto touched the scar. A slow warmth seeped into his fingertips. It pulsed, regular as a heartbeat.
That was when it happened.
Inside Haruto's head, several voices rang out at once.
"I feel like I've walked this path before."
It was Mao's voice. Thursday at dusk, on the riverbank where the three of them had walked together, Mao had murmured those words, quietly, to no one in particular.
"For some reason, I feel calm when I'm near you, senpai."
It was Hinata's voice. In front of the shoe lockers, laughing, she had said that to him.
"Even if I disappear, if you notice — the world might change."
It was Tsukasa's voice. Saturday at dusk, her eyes wet with tears, she had told him that.
The three voices overlapped inside Haruto's head.
(If you notice, the world might change.)
Haruto slowly sat up.
(I've been repeating the same week, over and over.)
This morning, that thought had hardened into something close to certainty.
It wasn't a vague sense of unease. It wasn't groundless anxiety. Mao's words, Hinata's words, Tsukasa's words — and the dream he saw every night, the one he could never forget. Every fragment was beginning to form a single picture.
(Monday. Monday again.)
Haruto got out of bed.
"Big brother, it's morning!"
Hinata's voice came from beyond the door. His little sister, a second-year in middle school, came to wake him at the same time every morning. That voice — yesterday, the day before, and surely tomorrow too — never changed.
Haruto opened the door.
Hinata stood there. Her short black hair swayed, catching the morning light. She looked at Haruto's face and, for just a moment, furrowed her brow.
"...Didn't sleep? Your face looks awful."
"Something like that."
Haruto gave a vague smile.
Hinata didn't press further. In her usual bright voice, she said:
"Breakfast's ready. Be careful today, okay?"
Those words landed heavily in Haruto's chest.
(Be careful today, okay?)
The same words. Every morning, the same casual phrase from Hinata. But this morning, they carried a weight they'd never had before.
(What does Hinata know?)
Haruto watched her back.
Hinata headed down the stairs. Her back looked the same as always. But to Haruto this morning, it seemed somehow distant.
Haruto went to the washroom.
He looked in the mirror. The face reflected there was, admittedly, a mess. Faint shadows under his eyes, lips dry and pale. He hadn't slept a wink last night. Whenever he thought of Tsukasa, it felt like even sleep wasn't permitted.
(Tsukasa-san.)
Haruto turned the faucet and washed his face with cold water. The chill forced his hazy mind awake. Wiping his face with a towel, he looked in the mirror again.
(This time, I'll move.)
Without going down to the living room, Haruto headed for the front door.
"Big brother? What about breakfast?"
Hinata's voice chased after him.
"I'm going ahead."
Haruto put on his shoes and threw the door open.
The outside air touched his skin, cold.
Haruto ran.
From his house to the Kiriha River bank was about ten minutes on foot. Down the slope through the residential district, out onto the road along the river. Breathing hard, Haruto sprinted down his usual route to school.
(Is Tsukasa there?)
He thought as he ran.
Tsukasa had disappeared. From the world, existence and all. But Haruto remembered her. Her confession, her tears, her words — he remembered them clearly.
(If Tsukasa-san has come back to Monday again—)
Haruto reached the Kiriha River bank.
His breath was ragged. Shoulders heaving, he slowly started walking along the path on top of the embankment.
The morning river was quiet. The surface glittered, catching the rising sun. Each time the wind blew, the grass on the bank rustled.
Haruto stopped midway along the embankment.
Tsukasa was standing there.
Her light-brown side ponytail swayed in the morning breeze. The gesture of brushing her bangs aside with one hand. The small silver piercing in her right ear flashed once in the sunlight.
Tsukasa hadn't noticed him.
She was facing the river, crying alone.
Her shoulders trembled in small shudders. Both hands covering her face, stifling her voice, she wept.
Haruto couldn't move.
(Tsukasa-san is crying.)
Saturday at dusk, Tsukasa had confessed to him through her tears. He hadn't been able to receive them. Right after losing Mao and Hinata, his heart had gone numb. There was no room left in him to accept anyone's feelings.
(But now—)
Haruto took a step forward.
The sound of grass underfoot echoed in the quiet morning air.
Tsukasa's head snapped up.
Her amber eyes, wet with tears, caught Haruto. For an instant, she looked as if she didn't understand what was happening — then hurriedly wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
" Ha— Haruto... why are you here?"
Her voice was hoarse.
Haruto stood before her. The morning sun cast their long shadows between them.
" I was looking for you, Tsukasa-san."
His voice was calm — calm enough to surprise even himself.
Tsukasa's eyes went wide.
" Looking for me...? What are you saying? Do you... remember that I disappeared?"
"I remember."
Haruto said it clearly.
"Mao, Hinata, and you, Tsukasa-san. All of you disappeared. I remember everything."
Tsukasa's lips trembled.
" No way... why... until now, no one ever..."
She looked like she might collapse on the spot.
Haruto instinctively took her hand.
Tsukasa's hand was cold as ice.
" Tsukasa-san."
Haruto wrapped both his hands around hers.
"Don't carry it alone anymore. This time, I'll protect you."
The moment she heard those words, large tears spilled from Tsukasa's eyes.
" Why... why would you say that...?"
Crying, she tried to smile.
" I wanted you to say that to me. Over and over, so many times. But no one ever did. And you always treated me like... just a transfer student..."
Her words came in fragments, barely making sense.
" I was alone, all this time, all this time... I couldn't protect Mao or Hinata... and you hated me too..."
"I never hated you."
Haruto gripped her hand tighter.
"That you were fighting alone — I finally understand it now. Maybe it's too late. But from now on, it's different."
Haruto looked straight into her eyes.
"This time, I'll protect you."
Tsukasa buried her face in his chest.
Haruto held her.
Her body was trembling. Against his chest, Tsukasa wept, stifling her voice. Her warmth seeped slowly into him.
(Warm.)
Haruto tightened the hand he'd placed on her back.
That was when it happened.
His left wrist blazed with heat.
(Again.)
Haruto looked at his left wrist.
The old scar floated white in the morning sun. And the scar was glowing.
" Haruto..."
Tsukasa lifted her face from his chest.
With tear-wet eyes, she looked up at him.
" Just now, something... changed."
Her words soaked into the morning air.
In that instant, the world groaned.
The trees rustled. The wind stopped. The surface of the Kiriha River — for a moment, it felt as if it flowed backward.
Haruto caught his breath.
(What is this?)
The world was shaking.
But it lasted only an instant.
Soon the wind blew again, the trees rustled, and the river began to flow as it always had.
" Did you... see that?"
Tsukasa's voice trembled.
"Yeah."
Haruto nodded.
"Something definitely moved."
Tsukasa, her face still buried against his chest, gave a small nod.
" But we still don't know... if Mao and Hinata have really come back."
Her voice was small, shaking.
" My memories are preserved every time. But whether the two who were erased get their memories back... that depends on you."
Haruto slowly chewed over her words.
(It depends on me.)
Haruto gently released her shoulders.
" There's something only I can do, then."
Tsukasa raised her tear-streaked face and looked at him.
" That's right. So don't... leave me alone."
Her voice was mixed with crying, but somewhere in it, she sounded relieved.
Haruto took her hand.
"Let's go."
Still holding Tsukasa's hand, he started walking.
Tsukasa looked startled for a moment, but soon squeezed his hand back.
Hand in hand, the two of them walked along the Kiriha River bank.
The morning river was quiet. The surface glittered, catching the rising sun. Each time the wind blew, the grass on the bank rustled.
(Her hand is cold.)
Haruto walked, feeling the chill of Tsukasa's hand.
Her hand had been cold as ice just moments ago. But now, it felt just a little warmer.
" ...Hey, Haruto."
Tsukasa murmured.
"What?"
" How did you know I'd be here?"
Haruto thought for a moment, then answered.
"I didn't. But I had a feeling you'd be here, Tsukasa-san."
Tsukasa fell silent.
Then she laughed, softly.
" What is that? That makes no sense."
"Yeah. I don't get it either."
Haruto laughed too.
Tsukasa's laughter rang lightly through the morning air.
That was when it happened.
Beyond the school route, he saw a figure.
Haruto stopped.
Hinata was standing there.
His little sister, a second-year in middle school, stood midway along the path, watching the two of them.
But it wasn't her usual bright smile.
A quiet smile — one that looked, somehow, relieved.
" Hinata...?"
Haruto called her name.
Hinata slowly approached him.
" Big brother, you finally noticed."
Her voice was quiet.
" Noticed... what?"
Haruto stared at her face.
Still smiling, Hinata gazed back at him.
" For now, that's enough."
She said only that, then started walking toward the school.
"Wait, Hinata!"
Haruto tried to chase after her.
But Tsukasa gripped his hand tightly.
" Haruto, wait."
Her voice was serious.
" Hinata-chan probably... knows. About this world."
Haruto looked at Tsukasa.
"Hinata does?"
Tsukasa gave a small nod.
" I'm not certain either. But Hinata-chan... I've always felt she knew something."
Haruto watched Hinata's back.
She was already far away.
(Hinata knows something.)
The fact sank heavily into his chest.
He'd thought she was just his innocent little sister. The bright girl who jumped into his bed every morning. But behind that smile, something he didn't know was hidden.
(Hinata, what do you know?)
Haruto watched her back until she vanished from sight.
" Let's go, Haruto."
Tsukasa gently tugged his hand.
"We have to get to school."
"...Yeah."
Still holding Tsukasa's hand, Haruto started walking toward school.
When he reached the classroom, Haruto looked at Mao's desk.
Mao's desk wasn't there.
As if it had never existed.
(Still gone, after all.)
Haruto sat down at his own desk.
Tsukasa sat in the seat beside him.
" Mao's desk still hasn't come back."
Tsukasa said quietly.
"Yeah."
Haruto nodded.
"But I won't give up."
Haruto took out a notebook.
A blank notebook. One he'd bought for the literary club, utterly ordinary. Haruto opened it.
Inside were the words he'd written last night.
"Monday."
"Mao."
"Hinata."
"Tsukasa."
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