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 - Calling Your Name at the Bottom of the Coal Mine
Beyond the cold darkness of the ventilation shaft, a wide mine tunnel opened up before them.
Rusty rail marks lined the walls. The ceiling was high, its darkness swallowing the lantern light whole. The air was damp, musty, and yet—something was there.
"[whispers]...Michi."
Satoru raised the lantern.
The light illuminated the depths of the abandoned mine.
There she was.
A small figure, bound to a pillar. Her light, silvery-brown hair was disheveled, caked with mud and snow. One of her uneven twin-tails was coming undone. Her large dark-brown eyes were simply open, staring into the darkness. Her body trembled, her lips were dry and cracked. But no voice came out.
"Michi!"
He moved to rush to her side—just then.
*Scrape.*
From deeper in the tunnel, a man rose to his feet.
—Late twenties. A face Satoru had never seen. Not work clothes, not a suit, but a shabby coat. Deep bags under his eyes. Stubble on his chin. And in his right hand, something gleaming dully.
"...The hell are you brats?"
The man's voice was hoarse, yet eerily calm.
"[angry]You bastard!!"
Kenta lunged forward. But Satoru threw out an arm and stopped him.
"[serious]Wait."
According to the plan, Kenta was supposed to buy time here. But—no. The enemy had a blade. This wasn't an opponent a kid could handle by charging head-on.
"[sarcastic]Two brats running an errand? You get lost?"
The man took a step forward.
In that instant—
"UOOOOOHHH!!"
Kenta shook off Satoru's restraint and charged.
Not according to plan. Pure instinct.
*Thud.*
Kenta's head buried itself in the man's stomach. The man let out a "Guh—!" and staggered. The knife he'd been holding clattered to the floor, ringing out.
"[angry]You little shit—!"
The man grabbed Kenta by the collar, trying to slam him against the wall. But Kenta wouldn't let go. He punched the man's face with small fists, kicked him, bit him, all while screaming.
"[angry]Satoru!! Get Michi!!"
His voice echoed through the mine tunnel.
Satoru moved.
He knelt beside Michi. Coarse rope bit into her thin wrists. Cold. Like ice. With trembling fingers, Satoru worked at the knots.
"[whispers]It's okay. This'll be over soon."
Michi's eyes looked at Satoru.
Her focus slowly aligned. She couldn't say anything. But—a single tear spilled over.
*(She can't even make a sound, huh.)*
Satoru clenched his back teeth.
—Just then.
Another sound came from the ventilation shaft. A small figure, crawling out.
"[excited]Just as calculated! Though that vent was pretty tight!"
Hiromi. His silver-rimmed glasses were fogged with soot. His bob-cut hair was a mess, his usual calm expression just a little desperate. But in his right hand, he held something wrapped in cloth.
"[serious]Hiromi! The flash powder!?"
"[excited]I brought it! A mixture of potassium nitrate and charcoal—I weaponized the one I tested for my science fair project! Theoretically, the luminous intensity upon combustion is—"
"[angry]Explain later!!"
At that moment, Kenta was slammed against the wall.
*Bam.*
"[angry]...Guh!"
Blood flew from Kenta's mouth. Still, he wouldn't let go of the man's arm.
"[serious]...Get clear, Kenta!!"
Hiromi shouted. He unwrapped the cloth, checking the powder inside. His hands were shaking.
"[scared]This is my first time using this in actual combat, you know... It's a bit different from the lab..."
"[angry]I said explain later!!!"
Kenta shoved the man with all his might. The man staggered, and Kenta rolled to the side.
"[angry]Now!!"
Hiromi hurled the powder packet straight at the man's face.
—Detonation.
*BAAANG!!*
For an instant, the entire mine tunnel was bleached pure white.
A chemical reaction of potassium nitrate and charcoal. The homemade flash seared the eyes of the culprit, accustomed to the darkness. The man clutched his eyes, screaming as he collapsed.
"[crying]My eyes—MY EYES—!!!!"
"[shaky]...The victory of logic."
Hiromi murmured.
His voice was trembling, ever so slightly. Behind his glasses, his eyes were just a little wet. A front of bravado. It was painfully obvious.
"[laughing]...Haha."
Satoru couldn't help but laugh.
—Right after that.
Through a gap in the collapsed section of the main tunnel, flashlight beams shone in.
"[angry]Freeze!! This is the police!!"
"[excited]Is that you in there, Satoru!?"
Hamada-san and two police officers slipped through the collapsed area and entered. The baseball team guys must have dug the collapse open from outside. Along with the dust, cold outside air flowed in.
The officers tackled the fallen man and put him in handcuffs. Hamada-san, lantern in hand, rushed over to Satoru and the others.
"[surprised]Michi-chan...!!"
Satoru remained on his knees, the finally-loosened rope in his hands.
Michi's wrists were freed. Red marks remained where the rope had dug in. On her left wrist—her usual bandage was dirty and askew. Beneath it, Satoru saw. Thin, numerous red lines.
*(These scars—)*
His chest tightened.
But right now, more than that.
"[gentle]...Michi, can you stand?"
He called out to her.
Michi just stared at Satoru. Her lips moved slightly. But no voice came. Instead, her body crumpled.
Michi's head leaned against Satoru's shoulder.
Cold. Small, light, but—trembling. Alive.
*I'm sorry.*
He felt like he heard a voice.
"[gentle]I thought I'd be a bother. I thought I'd manage on my own."
A hoarse voice. A tiny voice, on the verge of fading away.
Satoru's heart ached.
*(That's me.)*
Those words were exactly his own catchphrase.
Bearing it all alone. Unable to rely on friends. Trying to handle everything by himself, no matter what.
—The version of himself that collapsed in the snowy forest that day.
—The version of himself that relied on Revival, got sealed away, and nearly died alone.
He and this small child in front of him were the same.
"[serious]Don't go off alone anymore."
The words came out naturally.
Words he hadn't been able to say to anyone in twenty-nine years.
"We're here."
Michi was silent for a while.
Then—she slowly reached out.
With both hands, she gripped the sleeve of Satoru's coat, tight.
Stifling her voice, she began to cry.
Not an embrace. Just a small point of contact, clinging to a sleeve.
*(What am I supposed to do at a time like this?)*
Satoru was at a loss.
He knew in his head. He should pat her on the back, or stroke her head. But—he couldn't. He truly didn't know what to do.
So he just stayed there, silent.
He figured that was enough.
----
When they exited the mine tunnel, the outside world was bright with early afternoon light.
The snow reflected the sunlight, dazzling. The winter air was cold, but far more pleasant than the damp air underground.
"[excited]They're out!!"
"[excited]Kenta!! Satoru!! Hiromi!!"
Their baseball team friends came running over. Adults from the hunters' association, people from the neighborhood—more than ten had gathered. They must have come after hearing the commotion.
Kenta stood with his arms crossed, striking a defiant pose while wiping his bloody nose.
"[excited]See! Told you, didn't I! A man keeps his promises!"
His voice was as loud as ever. But—his eyes were red.
Hiromi, still clutching the map, muttered quietly.
"[serious]...Just as calculated. I'd pinpointed the ventilation shaft's location from the survey map, and the degree of tunnel collapse was factored in beforehand—"
His hands were shaking.
"[laughing]...Hahaha."
Satoru laughed out loud.
He looked at Kenta. Blood dripping from his nose, yet a triumphant face.
He looked at Hiromi. Hands trembling, yet a face putting on a brave front, armed with theory.
"[laughing]What's with you guys?"
"[excited]What's *with you guys* supposed to mean!"
"[embarrassed]...Why are *you* laughing?"
The three of them shared a silent, laughing moment.
Michi watched them, a curious look on her face. Her face still bore the traces of tears, but—her mouth relaxed, just a little.
Hamada-san came over and smacked each of the kids on the head in turn.
"[angry]You damn fools."
He said only that, and nothing more.
----
The following evening.
The living room of the Fujinuma house.
On the stove, a kettle whistled softly. Outside the window, snow had begun to fall again.
Satoru burrowed into the kotatsu, staring blankly at the ceiling. His whole body ached. Crawling through that mine ventilation shaft yesterday had left him with scrapes and bruises everywhere. But—none of that mattered.
"Satoru, the newspaper."
Sachiko called out from the kitchen. In her apron, she stirred a pot of miso soup.
"[whispers]...Yeah."
He got out of the kotatsu and picked up the newspaper on the table.
The local paper. The *Ishikari Misono Daily*.
The front-page headline leaped out at him.
**'Attempted Child Abduction in Misono Town — Suspect Arrested at Scene'**
Satoru began reading the article.
*'—The arrested suspect is Nakamura Shoji (23). No fixed address, unemployed—'*
His hands stopped.
Nakamura.
The name "Shiratori Jun" was nowhere to be found.
*(It's different.)*
Satoru reread the article. A second time. A third time.
The man arrested was a suspect in a separate case who had been on the wanted list. The man who kidnapped Michi was certainly this Nakamura. But—
*(It's not Shiratori Jun.)*
In the original timeline, Sachiko had said it.
*'The real culprit is outside.'*
*'Shiratori Jun might be a false accusation.'*
This attempted kidnapping was a completely separate incident, unrelated to Shiratori Jun.
Satoru set the newspaper down on the kotatsu.
*(I saved Michi.)*
*(But—nothing is over.)*
His heart grew heavy.
The real serial murder case. The true darkness that made Michi its first victim. Its perpetrator—was still somewhere in this era.
"Satoru, tea."
Sachiko placed a teacup on the table.
"[gentle]...Ah, thanks."
Satoru took the cup and sipped. Hot.
Sachiko glanced at Satoru's face for just a moment.
The sharp eyes of a former journalist caught the change in her son. But—she said nothing.
She simply placed another cup in front of herself and quietly sipped her tea.
----
Night.
His own room on the second floor.
Satoru sat facing his desk. Outside the window, darkness had fallen, and snow continued to fall silently. The streetlights made the snowflakes glow white.
*(Revival—)*
He closed his eyes.
—*Flicker.*
At the edge of his vision, an afterimage like a blue butterfly flitted past, just for an instant.
He caught his breath.
*(It's coming back.)*
A sensation of strength gradually returning to his fingertips. Like grains of sand, one, then two, being grasped again. Not complete. Still distant. But—it was definitely there.
The feeling of Revival had begun to return, little by little, inside that mine tunnel where he had trusted his friends.
*(The countdown back to the present has begun.)*
He was certain of it.
He didn't know how much time he had left. But—it was limited.
*(What can I do?)*
He had saved Michi once.
But the scars on her left wrist were still unresolved.
Her family problems remained.
And—he had zero clues about the real culprit.
He still didn't understand why Shiratori Jun had been falsely arrested.
Behind a small victory, the true darkness was still moving.
Satoru rested his elbows on the windowsill and gazed out at the snow.
*(The feeling of Michi gripping my sleeve.)*
Cold, small, but—fingertips undeniably filled with trust.
*(Don't go off alone anymore.)*
He was the one who had said that.
This time for sure—he would make himself follow those words, too.
His own face reflected in the window glass looked just a little different than usual.
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