Satoru Fujinuma is a shut-in manga artist (or so he insists) with a weird power called 'Revival,' which sends him back in time just before something terrible happens.
One day, his mother Sachiko realizes the identity of the kidnapper behind a series of child abductions in Satoru's old Hokkaido hometown. Satoru dismisses it as paranoia. That night, he comes home to find his mother stabbed and dying. Wrongly accused of her murder, Satoru's panic triggers Revival—but this time it's different. He'
Erased IF: The Day I Didn't Open the Door - Blizzard Forest and the Voices of Friends
The front door of the Kaya house was still half-open.
Every time the wind blew, the hinges cried out—*creak, creak*.
Fujinuma Satoru picked up the backpack with trembling fingers.
(*Should I go back and get Kenta?*)
The thought flickered through his mind for an instant. But he dismissed it just as quickly.
Run to the payphone in the shopping district, call Kenta's house, then come back here. At least twenty minutes, minimum. In twenty minutes, an adult on foot could get pretty deep into Kamui Forest.
(*Like I've got that kind of time.*)
And besides—
(*I'm the one who's gotta do this anyway.*)
Even with the mind of a twenty-nine-year-old adult inside an eleven-year-old body, that bad habit of "handling everything alone" still bound his body like a curse.
He was absolutely terrible at relying on others.
No matter what happened, he shouldered it all by himself.
He knew it in his head. He knew that was exactly why he'd failed before.
And yet—
"[whispers]...What a pain."
Fooling himself with his usual catchphrase, Satoru stepped out of the house.
Outside, it was far darker than it had been during the day.
Too late to call it evening. The sky was smothered by thick clouds, and the snow was falling much harder than before. The wind howled—*whoo, whoo*—and the cold bit at his earlobes like they might tear off.
Inside his pocket, he clutched the note he'd picked up earlier.
*Thank you.*
Just five characters, in round handwriting.
That girl had written this yesterday.
All he'd done was talk to her a little at the children's center. Nothing special.
And yet, an eleven-year-old girl who could write "thank you" for just that—
(*I'm definitely saving her.*)
Satoru ran further north along the Misono River embankment.
*Crunch. Crunch.*
The only sound was his own footsteps. The streetlights were sparse, their glow blurred and unreliable in the snow. The snow on the embankment path grew deeper and deeper, burying him up to his knees with every step.
His breath came out pure white.
The freezing air seared his lungs.
But he didn't stop.
Before long, the path ended.
Towering before him was Kamui Forest.
A primeval forest of Yezo spruce and Sakhalin fir. A place called "the forest of the gods" in the Ainu language. The local adults always said, "Don't go near Kamui in winter." The snowpack exceeded two meters. People almost never entered during the winter months.
At the forest's entrance stood an old wooden shrine, blanketed in snow.
And beside it—footprints, continuing onward.
Large footprints from an adult, and much smaller ones, from a child.
(*Michi.*)
His heart instantly began to race.
Satoru didn't look back.
He simply stepped into the forest.
---
Inside the forest was another world entirely.
Though the wind was weaker than outside, the air was piercingly cold. Snow piled on the branches occasionally came crashing down—*thump*. The primeval forest, dim even in daylight, was now nearly as dark as night.
"[scared]Where is she...?"
He followed the footprints.
But the snow was too deep. Every step forward drained his strength. And within ten minutes of entering the forest, the snow grew even fiercer.
Visibility was down to just a few meters.
Even the tips of his own fingers blurred into white.
(*This is bad.*)
He stopped.
He looked back.
The path he'd come from—was gone.
His own footprints were already buried in the snow.
He couldn't tell which direction he'd come from.
(*Well, this sucks.*)
Satoru let out a heavy breath.
*Don't panic*, the adult version of himself said inside his head. But his eleven-year-old body was honest. The sensation in his hands and feet was rapidly fading. His fingertips were already so cold and stiff he couldn't even tell if they were his own fingers anymore.
Still, he walked.
Between the trees, guessing at random.
Maybe he was heading deeper in. Or maybe he was just wandering in circles around the same spot. His sense of direction was completely dead. Up, down, left, right—everything was white.
(*Revival—*)
He stopped and closed his eyes.
He desperately tried to conjure the afterimage of the blue butterfly. That sensation of time rewinding. The power that activated automatically just before an accident or incident—a power he couldn't control.
(*Please—*)
Nothing came.
Once more.
Nothing.
A third time.
(*Bring me back!!*)
Even when he screamed it in his mind, nothing happened.
The feeling of that power had completely vanished. As if it had never existed in the first place. Like trying to hold sand, everything was slipping through his fingers.
The corrective force of fate was sealing Revival.
That man in the black coat had said it.
*"You know the future, don't you?" "Too bad for you."*
That had been a declaration of war from fate itself.
(*Am I... going to die here?*)
The thought seeped into his mind.
He dropped to his knees in the snow.
Cold. Beyond cold—pain. But he couldn't muster the will to stand back up.
The feeling in his limbs was already gone.
His consciousness was slowly fading.
Like a life flashing before his eyes, two scenes surfaced in his mind.
—One was at the children's center.
In the heated room, Michi had looked his way for the first time.
Messy hair, dirty clothes. But her eyes were strangely clear.
*"...What?"*
A frightened voice. But for just a moment, the corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly. Maybe she'd been trying to smile.
Back then, he—hadn't done anything.
He hadn't called out to her.
He'd thought, *What a pain*, and looked away like always.
If only he'd reached out his hand back then.
—The other was the apartment parking lot.
His mom's hands, covered in blood.
A reddish-black stain spreading across the asphalt. Her fingers growing cold. Those eyes that had looked at him with such worry, gradually losing their light.
He hadn't been able to do anything.
Again—nothing.
"[crying]...Dammit."
A voice that couldn't become a voice was swallowed by the snow.
His vision blurred.
He no longer knew if it was tears or the snow.
He was always like this.
Shouldering everything alone, charging ahead alone, failing alone.
Unable to ask for help, yet trying to save someone else—and in the end, saving no one.
Not his mom.
Not Michi.
(*If I die, nobody's gonna be troubled by it, huh.*)
His field of vision gradually narrowed.
His eyelids were heavy.
*Maybe I'll just sleep. Right here, in the snow—*
—That was when it happened.
"SATORU—!!"
From far away, he heard a voice.
(*...A hallucination?*)
"SATORU! WHERE ARE YOUUUU!!"
No.
That was—Kenta's voice.
He lifted his head.
Beyond the blizzard, a light was swaying. Flashlight beams. One, two, three. Orange lights flickering closer through the snow.
"[crying]...O-over here...!"
He forced his frozen throat open and shouted. His voice was hoarse, barely a sound at all.
But—
"Found him!! Over here, Hamada-san!!"
The sound of someone pushing through snow.
And then, the flashlight beam illuminated Satoru's face.
Standing before him was Kenta.
Snow had piled up on his short black hair, buzzed short with clippers like a proper elementary school kid. His small, bright black eyes were opened wide—about three times bigger than usual. His breath was pure white, his shoulders heaving.
"[excited]Found you... I found you, Satoru!!"
Kenta shouted, then looked back over his shoulder.
"Hamada-san! Abe-san! Nomura-san! Over here!!"
Three adults emerged from the blizzard.
One was a sturdy-looking man in his fifties with a hunting rifle slung over his back. He wore a down jacket, boots, and a hat pulled down low. The snow made it hard to see his face clearly, but his movements were efficient, without wasted motion.
Another was a thin man in his forties. He carried a large backpack and held blankets in both arms.
The last was an old man in his sixties. His back was bent, but his gaze was sharp, and he held a thick rope in his hands.
Kenta rushed over to Satoru immediately.
And then, without warning—he shoved a blanket at him.
"[angry]You goddamn idiot!!"
Yelling, Kenta tore off his own scarf and roughly wrapped it around Satoru's neck.
"[angry]What the hell were you thinking, going alone! We're friends, aren't we! Why didn't you call me!!"
"[whispers]...Kenta."
"[angry]Listen up!!"
With tears in his eyes, Kenta grabbed Satoru by the collar.
"The debt from losing that duel is huge, y'know! So this makes us even! Got it, Satoru!!"
—A debt.
That duel. The match on Misono Bridge where he'd thrown the fight on purpose.
For just that, this guy called it a "debt" and came searching for him in a blizzard-whipped forest?
Bringing three adults with him.
Into Kamui Forest at night.
Just an eleven-year-old brat—
"[crying]...Ugh."
A sound escaped him.
"[crying]U-ah... aahh..."
Tears came flooding out.
They wouldn't stop.
He cried out loud, like a child. Surpassing his twenty-nine-year-old adult mind, surpassing his eleven-year-old body, the tears just spilled and spilled.
Kenta looked surprised.
The transfer student who never said anything but "what a pain" was crying right in front of him.
But Kenta didn't say anything more.
He just silently patted Satoru on the shoulder.
"[gentle]...It's warm, right? That."
He pointed at the blanket and grinned, a little embarrassed.
"[crying]...Yeah."
"[excited]Alright! Then let's go! We're gonna save Michi, right!"
Kenta stood up.
At that moment, the sturdy man in his fifties—Hamada-san—spoke.
"[serious]Hold on, Kenta."
Hamada-san crouched down, shining his flashlight around.
He gently brushed the surface of the snow with his hand.
"[cold]...There are footprints."
Satoru clutched the blanket and stood up.
Where Hamada-san was pointing—faint depressions continued onward. Adult footprints. One person's worth. They stretched further into the depths of the forest.
"Nomura-san, this is..."
The old man in his sixties looked in the direction of the footprints and furrowed his brow.
"[cold]This is the direction where there used to be a coal mine."
"A coal mine?"
The thin man in his forties—Abe-san—asked, adjusting the backpack on his shoulders.
Nomura-san put a hand on his hip and pulled something out of the snow.
It was an old wooden signpost, half-buried.
Hamada-san shone his flashlight on it.
*Misono No. 2 Mine Shaft Site*
The faded letters emerged in the orange light.
"[scared]An abandoned coal mine... That place is dangerous."
Hamada-san's voice dropped low.
"It's been closed for nearly thirty years. The tunnels are collapsed, and there might be gas buildup. And—"
Nomura-san continued.
"The locals called it the 'Spirited-Away Mine.' There've been rumors since way back about kids disappearing there."
A chill ran down his spine.
But—the footprints continued straight toward that abandoned mine.
"[angry]So Michi's in there!!"
Kenta said it instantly.
"[angry]Alright, let's go! We gotta save her, fast!!"
"[angry]Wait, Kenta!!"
Hamada-san grabbed Kenta's shoulder.
"[serious]An abandoned mine at night is impossible, even for adults. You can't see your footing, and there might be gas. Going in with just us is suicide."
"[angry]Then what're we supposed to do!! What about Michi!?"
"[serious]We wait for dawn. Once it's light, we contact the town office and the police, gather more people, and then go in. That's the proper way."
"[angry]By then Michi will—"
"[cold]I know. But I can't let you kids die too."
Kenta bit his lip.
At that moment, Satoru—
(*Again, huh.*)
In the back of his mind, that scene from earlier resurfaced.
Himself, alone in the snow, collapsed and unable to do anything.
Revival couldn't be used. His power was sealed. Even if he charged in alone, the same thing would happen again.
(*I'm—*)
"[whispers]...Got it."
The words came out naturally.
Kenta turned around.
"[surprised]Satoru?"
"[serious]We'll wait until dawn."
He clenched his teeth and forced the words out.
"Even if we go now, we still can't do anything. That's how i
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