7:00 a.m.
Another reboot. Another crash. Another memory seared into my mind that Subaru would never have.
I sat on the edge of the bed, palms against my knees. My legs thumped up and down like a jackrabbit.
I'd been too close last time. Too open. Every warning I gave made her cringe. Every attempt to help pushed her away.
If she didn't believe me, maybe the solution was… not to show up at all.
Today, I wouldn't catch up. No hello, no "accidental" bumps, no stumbling over the inexplicable.
Instead, I'd trail behind her.
By 8:10 a.m., Subaru was already on campus, her peaceful smile fixed. From where I was standing on the second-floor hall, I could see her standing and chatting with a friend near the shoe lockers.
The first threat appeared sooner than I expected: a loose basketball rolling out of the gym storage room, slamming into a pyramid of paint cans. I was near enough to pick it up, grabbing the ball before the cans could fall over.
She never even looked my way. Her friend did. Confused.
I slipped away before people would begin to ask questions.
At lunchtime, Subaru approached the courtyard, a minefield of dangers I'd discovered from previous loops. Loose paving stones, broken flowerpots on upper ledges, the odd thoughtless student with a bat.
I stayed thirty meters back, eyes scanning constantly. My body moved on autopilot, fending off small dangers, steadying an unstable ladder here, catching a dropped water bottle there.
Each time, I made sure she never saw me.
But distance cuts both ways.
At 3:14 p.m., she was cutting over to the east stairwell. I lagged behind when I heard the sudden crack of something giving way.
As I turned the corner, she was halfway down the stairs, and the top railing had broken free.
I ran forward, shouting, "Subaru, wait-!"
Too late. The metal had given way beneath her hand.
She fell sideways into the open space.
The impact was sickening.
And this time, she died without ever knowing I'd been there.
7:00 a.m.
I remained still for a while. The ceiling was my scoreboard, each crack another notch for a defeat. If I looked hard enough, I could see her face nearly every time, surprise, confusion, fear.
Last loop I learned something: I couldn't just stalk her. She wasn't an NPC who took predetermined patrol routes. She was a human, a human who'd already been instructed to keep strangers at arm's length.
This time, I wanted her to see more than a shadow.
8:17 a.m.
The east corridor by the vending machines was my chosen stage. In three loops, I'd timed her arrival here down to a thirty-second window. She always stopped to grab canned coffee before first period.
Today, so did I.
I stood with my back to the machine, busy with my wallet. I didn't want to look desperate, only slightly absorbed. Subaru appeared right on time, her white hair and too-tidy face for a Monday morning.
I waited until she was at the machine before I stepped aside with a half-smile.
"Ah, go ahead. I'm still counting money."
She blinked once, and nodded graciously. "Thank you."
She ordered her usual, black coffee, no sugar.
I mentally noted it but said nothing. To be a mind reader would be the death knell to trust yet.
When her can fell into the tray, I took my chance.
"You're in Class 2-B, aren't you? I think I've met you with Minami from the art club."
Her eyebrow jumped. "Yes…? Sorry, I don't think we've met."
I let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. "Not likely. I'm Hayato. Class 2-A. Minami's my cousin, she's always talking about her club friends, so I guess I recognized you."
That was a falsehood. I wasn't even certain if Minami existed, but adding in a harmless connection was preferable to 'I just happen to know all about you.'
Subaru hesitated for a moment, then smiled weakly. "I see. Subaru Hoshina."
We had a few words about the art club, innocuous, insignificant, small talk. I didn't push my luck. She disappeared in the direction of her class, and I let her go.
Rule number one: shut down the conversation before she wants you to. Let her have room to think about it.
I waited outside in the courtyard early, knowing she'd come out to go to the library. Today, I'd brought a book out with me, not one of the death books from my apartment, something lighter, something school-appropriate.
Sure enough, she came striding on by. I sent a little wave, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Hey, Subaru. Off to the library?"
She slowed a little. ".Yes. You?"
"Just passing time between classes. This book is nice, but my brain's not working today." I held out the cover to her, a fluffy romance comedy.
Her eyes widened with moderate surprise. "I didn't expect you to be reading something like that."
I shrugged. "Guess I don't cut the image."
She smiled, weak but sincere. "Not really."
It wasn't much, but it was something.
For the rest of the day, I didn't chase her. I allowed her to glimpse me, once toward the shoe lockers, once down the hall after PE, never close enough, never long enough. I nodded each time, or said hello.
By the final bell, she'd responded first. A gentle "See you" as we both exited the building.
It was progress.
But as I emerged into the fading light, I noticed something that made my stomach twist, a roof worker with a loose sheet of metal, leaning out right above the east side where Subaru would normally walk home.
The loop knife was already positioned above her.
I had a couple of seconds to respond. The catch was… I couldn't blow the fragile trust I'd just started building.
Subaru stepped a couple of paces ahead of me, totally unaware of the danger above. My eyes flicked to the roof, the maintenance man still wrestling with that loose metal piece. Every time he shifted it, the sunlight flashed off the edge like a warning.
I needed to do something, but nothing that screamed I've been following you everywhere today. Too much too soon, and she'd shut me down.
My initial impulse was to shout to her, but I didn't have anything spontaneous to say that would warrant detaining her mid-trail. My second impulse was to hurry up, block her path from the potential drop point. That had its own risks, if I miscalculated, I'd be some overbearing nutcase blocking her way home.
The panel rattled again. My window of opportunity was closing.
I accelerated just enough to cover the ground without being conspicuous, arriving at her side as she strolled toward the eastern gate. "Hey," I said, trying for a casual tone, "don't mind if I join you for a few minutes? I have to head this way anyway."
She glared at me, a bit disoriented, but nodded. "Sure."
Genius. I positioned my step so I was standing on the outside edge of the walkway, right under the panel's likely falling point. My heart pounded faster with each step, waiting for it.
We were half past when it happened. A harsh metallic screech from above, followed by the slamming of the panel crashing loose. I didn't flinch, I acted. My hand shoved Subaru towards the inner edge of the path firmly as I walked into harm's way. The panel slammed onto the ground where she had been standing, the shock resonating through my feet.
The worker in front cursed and hurried to look down, exclaiming apologies. Subaru stared at the wreckage, her eyes wide open. "That could have-" She stood frozen, looking at me as if she did not entirely comprehend me.
"Are you okay?" I said, trying to keep my cool.
She nodded warily. "Yeah… thanks." Her tone was wary, uncertain, but accusatory her eyes were not. Only. processing.
Her cries of the worker and some curious students nearby gave us both a reason to go on. We walked on in tense silence until we went our separate ways.
"Tomorrow, Hayato," she said by the corner.
I nodded ever so slightly and left, my heart still pounding. She'd used my name. Not coldly, not in defense, simply. naturally.
The cycle wasn't over. Subaru survived. For today, that was enough.
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Thanks for reading. You can also give me ideas for the future or pinpoint plot holes that I may have forgotten, if you want.
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