The Seven-Colored Scar: Komaru Kurikomas Time Reversal
Komaru Kurikoma died. She was stabbed protecting her beloved senpai. But when she opened her eyes, she had returned to one week before her death.
'This time, I will protect her.'
Komaru trembles as she checks her phone. In seven days, her senpai will be murdered. She knows who the killer is. But no one believes her. If she talks about the future, they'll just say she's crazy.
So Komaru decides to act alone. But every time she changes something, the future shifts. At first it's small things—di
The Seven-Colored Scar: Komaru Kurikomas Time Reversal - On the morning of the seventh day, memories of death
My chest hurts.
A sharp pain. Something pierces through my center. Something hot flows out.
Someone screams. Far away. A trembling voice. Like crying.
Calling my name.
Senpai.
No voice comes. My vision blurs. This might be it.
Then—consciousness snaps off.
Kurikoma Komaru jolted awake.
Her heart pounded. Breathing ragged. She clutched her pajama chest tight. Inhaled. Again. Again.
The room sat silent. Morning sun through the window. As always. Thin lines of light slipped through curtain gaps. Fell on the floor.
Was that... a dream?
Komaru slowly sat up. Her small, too-thin shoulders trembled. Her black bob, cut neat at the shoulders, was a mess. Strands stuck to her cheek. She always pinned the right side back. Must have come loose while she slept.
The desk beside her bed. She reached for her phone. Fingertips still shaking.
Screen on.
June 14th. 6:42 AM.
June. Fourteenth.
"...Day seven. Again."
Her large, round, deep brown eyes opened wide. As wide as physically possible. Clear eyes that showed every emotion straight. Now those eyes were full of fear. And confusion.
Slowly, Komaru looked at her left arm.
She rolled up her long pajama sleeve. The inside of her thin arm. Wrist to elbow.
Red lines. Six of them.
Faint but distinct. Red scars carved into her skin. Like scratches. But clearly something else. They multiplied each time. Proof of the time leaps. No—Komaru called it "Regress." The reversal phenomenon.
"Six times..."
Her voice was hoarse.
This was the seventh June 14th.
Regress—a nonsensical power that only Komaru had. At the moment of death, her consciousness alone jumped back one week. Activation condition: her own death. It triggered automatically. Before she knew it, she was back. She didn't understand it. But it was real.
Six times, she died.
And six times, she came back.
The price—was memory.
Each death took one memory. Her strongest emotional memory. Gone. Like dropping puzzle pieces. One by one. Precious memories kept vanishing.
What memories she'd lost. She no longer knew. Because they were gone.
But one thing she did know.
Senpai would be killed.
Yakumo Shizuru-senpai. Third-year at Kaminosaka High. President of the literature club. Her beloved senpai.
June 21st, night. On the Amagi Hills promenade. Northeast of the school. Someone would kill her.
Komaru got out of bed. Feet on the floor. Cold. June, but mornings still had a chill.
She opened her desk drawer. Inside: one notebook. A small planner with Shizuru-senpai's weekly schedule. Information gathered bit by bit across six loops. Written in scattered handwriting.
She flipped the pages.
June 21st.
A red circle around the date. Beside it, in shaky letters: "Amagi Hills promenade, around 7 PM, someone will—"
She couldn't write the rest.
She tried to remember the killer's name. But her head was fog. Nothing surfaced. She should have known something important. The memory holes seemed to erase the crucial things first.
She couldn't tell anyone. They'd think she was crazy.
She'd tried. Told her family once. Their worried faces. "Are you okay?" It scared her. She stopped. Tried the police too. No evidence. They brushed her off.
"No one believes me..."
Her voice shook. She was alone. Completely alone.
But no time for tears.
She had to protect senpai.
That's why she came back.
Komaru took a deep breath. Took off her pajamas. Pulled her uniform from the closet. Kaminosaka High's navy blazer. Checkered skirt. Hem just barely within regulations. She always wore spats underneath. For mobility.
She needed a plan.
Scout the murder site. Prepare to obstruct the killer's movements. Plenty to do.
But where to start? Memories missing. No one to rely on—
—Ding-dong.
The intercom rang.
Komaru's shoulders jumped.
Who? This early?
She hesitated a moment. Walked through the living room. To the front door. Her parents were already at work. No one home.
She opened the door.
"Morning, Komaru."
Standing there: Shinonome Sakuya.
Soft brown hair. A bit long. Tucked behind his ears. Droopy eyes that seemed gentle at first glance. But look closer—fathomless dark brown. About 174 centimeters tall. Same uniform. Popular in class. Kind to everyone. Always looking out for others. Her childhood friend. There since before she could remember.
The same gentle smile as always.
But—
Komaru's heart jolted.
She didn't know why. But deep inside, an alarm blared. Don't tell him. Absolutely not.
"M-Morning."
She feigned calm. Her voice pitched a little high. Hopefully he didn't notice.
"Thought you'd be later. You're up early. Walk to school together?"
"Yeah."
Komaru nodded. Put on her shoes. Closed the door. Stepped outside.
They descended the apartment stairs together. Tsukimori Complex—a large residential area on the eastern hill of Minase City. Built about 25 years ago. Rows of five-story buildings. Komaru's home: Building C-3, fourth floor. Sakuya's: next door, Building C-4, second floor.
A small park sat in the central plaza. Playground equipment scattered about. No one there. Too early.
"What were you doing last night? Your light was on pretty late."
Sakuya's tone was casual.
But—
A chill ran down Komaru's spine.
Last night? Why ask that? Not a strange question. Normal conversation.
But.
For a split second, something cold flickered in Sakuya's eyes.
"N-Nothing. Just couldn't sleep."
Komaru looked away. Toward the thicket at the edge of the complex. An unmaintained path leading to Amagi Hills.
"Hmm. You feeling okay? Take care of yourself."
Sakuya's voice was gentle.
The usual childhood friend. Just her imagination. Definitely her imagination.
But Komaru's heart kept pounding.
They left the complex. Headed toward the school route. Walked toward Minase Central Station. Parted ways with Sakuya halfway. He had morning club practice.
Alone, Komaru exhaled in relief.
Why was she so tense? Sakuya was always kind.
But—a dull throb in the back of her head. A warning. Keep secrets from him. She couldn't remember why. But her body remembered. She had to.
Minase City. A regional city. A little ways from Tokyo.
The Tachiba River ran through the middle. East side: new residential. West side: old streets. Population about 120,000. Komaru grew up here. Kaminosaka High. Her childhood friend. Everything in this city.
Walking, Komaru planned her strategy.
First: scout the murder site. Pinpoint exactly where on the Amagi Hills promenade the attack happened. Six loops had shown her the place. Near the observation deck. Where the streetlights were sparse.
Then: obstruct the killer. Who was it—the name wouldn't come. Fog.
But she knew one thing.
Komaru touched the scars on her left arm. Hidden under her uniform's long sleeves. Six lines.
She didn't know how many returns she had left. Didn't know if Regress had a limit.
But she knew one thing.
Protect senpai. That's all.
She passed through the school gate. Kaminosaka High sat on the southern slope of Amagi Hills. From gate to building: 150 meters uphill. Hence the name "Kaminosaka"—God's Hill.
Climbing the slope, Komaru whispered.
"This time. For sure."
Her voice was hoarse.
But full of resolve.
This time—she would protect her beloved senpai. No matter what.
Even if she lost every memory.
Even if no one believed her.
She would never give up. That's why she'd died six times. And come back.
The blue sky stretched high and wide. A new loop. Day seven begins.
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.