It was Sunday.
A sacred day.
No school.
No quests.
No goat-based diplomacy.
Just pajamas, tea, and doing absolutely nothing.
Even Kuro (currently loafed on my windowsill) seemed to agree.
I stretched like a cat, flopped onto the floor, and stared at the ceiling, marveling at the luxury of not having to be anywhere.
Naomi and I had already declared it a snack hangover recovery day after the glory of yesterday's Maple Mochi Madness. We exchanged three whole texts, all of which said:
"zzzzzz"
I didn't even have to time-stop anything. I was winning.
Around noon, Dad decided it was "nostalgia hour" and started dragging out old boxes from the hallway closet.
"Wanna see some photos from when you were a baby?" he asked, eyes already misty with fatherly emotion.
"Sure," I yawned, sipping tea. "Only if there's one of you holding me upside down."
"There's… several, actually."
We sat on the floor, surrounded by photo albums and dust. Pages turned. Pictures of birthday hats, inflatable ducks, and tiny Reika in oversized hats passed by.
Then… we opened The Big Black Album.
The old one.
Thick cover. Smelled like ancient library books and forgotten cookies.
Most of it was vintage stuff—family barbecues, grandparent vacations, blurry dog pictures from the 90s.
Then… there was one photo.
And I paused.
It showed a summer festival. Tanabata, maybe. Bright lanterns. A crowd.
But in the far corner—almost hidden behind a food stall—was a girl.
Wearing my hoodie. My hair. My exact face.
I blinked.
Took a closer look.
Her arm was frozen mid-motion, hand reaching toward someone. Her expression was calm. Focused. Almost like…
Like someone who had just stopped time.
"…Weird photo," I said quickly, snapping the album shut. "Anyway, where's the upside-down baby pic?"
Dad laughed and flipped to the next page. "Ah! There it is!"
But my heart was thumping.
Because that photo? It had a date written on the back.
July 8, 1983.
Long before I was born.
Long before I even came to this world.
---
Later That Night
I lay in bed, the photo burned into my memory.
Was it just a coincidence? Someone who looked like me?
Or…
Was it me?
Kuro blinked slowly beside me, then flopped onto his side.
"Don't look at me," I whispered. "Even I don't know what I'm doing."
Maybe it was nothing.
Or maybe…
Maybe the past wasn't as far behind me as I thought.
But that was a problem for future Reika.
Tonight?
Tonight, I was just a girl in bed, wondering how maple mochi could make her this full, and how one quiet Sunday could whisper something so big.