The morning was earlier than usual for me. If I was going to guard Subaru throughout the entire day, I needed to be ready before she even left the house.
I'd learned her loop from the previous loops, same streets, same crosswalk, same dozy stop at the vending machine for a can of coffee.
I hung back, watching her out the side of my eye as she moved. She didn't see me. Good. Too much familiarity and she'd start asking questions I couldn't answer.
The initial test came at the station. A clumsey fellow with his briefcase swinging like a club nearly brained her on the way down the stairs. I stepped in between just in time, having the case land on my shoulder instead. Subaru never even realized she'd been rescued from a bruise. My shoulder ached, but I kept moving.
On campus, I was able to steer her off a slippery spot of floor in the hallway, one that I'd discovered via a previous loop that would have sent her crashing at once into a hard collision with the side of a desk. I did it like an accident, stepping in front of her so she'd need to change direction. She gave me a confused glance but didn't say anything.
By noon, the constant hyper-vigilance was catching up to me. Each clatter of chairs, each surprise noise had me yanking my head in that direction. I didn't even grab my food.
"Not hungry?" she asked, pausing in the act of opening her juice box.
"Guess not," I said, smiling. "Didn't sleep much.".
She gave a small hum of affirmation and refocused on her friends. I stayed close enough to see without falling behind.
The real trouble started after school. I'd been so focused on the shared hazards, automobiles, falling objects, crowded staircases, that I didn't notice the one thing that I should have anticipated: a vehicle cutting to the left around a cyclist. The sedan sprang off the curb a few meters ahead of us.
I yanked Subaru back hard, the tires screeching inches from the sidewalk. She stumbled into me, breathless and wide-eyed. The driver kept going, probably not even realizing what almost happened.
Subaru stared at me for a long moment, her hand still gripping my sleeve. "You… you're always there," she said quietly.
I had no answer for that.
We continued the rest of the way in silence. When she reached her street, she halted and faced me. "See you tomorrow," she said, but there was a lack of sureness of tone in her voice this time.
When I finally reached my apartment, my legs felt heavy like lead. My whole body was tensed, my head pounding from the relentless state of heightened tension.
She'd made it through the day. The loop hadn't rebooted. But the cost.
If I did this for weeks on end, I'm not sure I'd survive long enough to actually save her. The morning reset struck me once again, forcefully and cruelly. Subaru's cry remained in my head, though I found myself back in my bedroom.
I rubbed my face with my hands. I was aware at this point that I was lacking something. I'd shielded her from that collapsing sign, that rickety balcony railing, even that dumb speeding delivery bike. and still found a way to get her killed before the day was over.
I opened my notebook. Every loop since the first one was sketched in there, maps, time stamps, details about where Subaru went and who she spoke to. The notes for yesterday's run were cleaner than usual. I'd shadowed her almost perfectly, never letting her out of sight.
And then she'd gone home. Safe. I'd thought I'd won.
But the reset came anyway.
Which meant that I was sick to even think it, I hadn't witnessed it all. There was some part of her schedule that took place out of my field of vision, something she'd done or someone she'd met after I'd convinced myself the danger had passed.
I turned over the notebook, looking for gaps. My heart sank when I spotted it: there was always a gap of about twenty minutes between when she left school and arrived home.
Twenty minutes unaccounted for.
"That's it," I snarled.
It wasn't enough to protect her at school. I had to tail her all the way home. Not follow her around in secret, walk with her, talk to her, have her camp with me until the sun goes down.
It would take building enough trust for her to let me. It would take getting her to see me not as this shady guy who keeps coming back, but as someone she might actually be able to depend on.
That's when it struck me, if I could have Subaru by my side twenty-four seven, alive and in one piece, the loop would stop repeating.
For the first time in… I didn't even know how many loops… I was seeing the end in sight.
The reset flung me back into my bed. Same muffled drone of traffic outside my apartment. Same gray morning light. But this time, I wasted no seconds.
I was at the school gates before Subaru even got there. She spotted me almost immediately, eyes narrowing, lips pressing into a thin line.
"You again?"
I grinned a small, harmless smile. "Coincidence. Morning."
Her gaze went to mine and held as if she was trying to catalog my face in some mental file. Then she just snorted and walked around me.
I fell back in step behind her. Not close enough to get in her business, far enough away that she won't summon security.
"I was just heading to the convenience store before class," I lied, holding up a bag I'd already stocked with random snacks. "Want something?"
She eyed the bag. "No thanks."
The hour went by with no serious issue. I stuck by her during class, chatting with her occasionally. Subaru responded in short sentences, but there was less bite in her tone today.
Over lunch, I made my first major gesture, an ask to walk down with her to the cafeteria. She faltered but refused to say no. Progress.
The afternoon crawled. Anytime someone mentioned her name, I bristled. Anytime she stood up, I trailed behind. It must have been humiliating, but I didn't care.
When the final bell finally sounded, the true test began.
Subaru walked out of the school building and went right, as always. I followed her pace.
".Are you following me?" she finally said, halfway down the block.
I breathed slowly. "I'm going in the same direction. That's all."
She gave me a sidelong look, clearly not believing me, but did not order me off.
For the first fifteen minutes, everything was normal. I kept flicking looks at store windows, scanning each reflection for danger. No loose signs. No suspicious faces.
Then, a block and a half from her apartment, I saw him, a delivery uniformed man, walking towards us, one hand buried deep in his jacket pocket.
My reflexes were screaming.
"Subaru," I said, moving between her and the stranger. "Wait."
She blinked. "What-?"
The man walked past us. For a second, I thought I was wrong. Then his hand appeared, wrapped around a box cutter, aimed straight at her.
I grabbed his wrist and pushed it into the wall. The knife clattered on the pavement. He snarled, tried to break free, but I shoved him hard enough that he staggered over into the gutter.
He ran off.
Subaru stared at me like I'd just spoken in a language she didn't speak.
"What the devil was that?" she persisted, shaking with fear.
"Some stalker," I said. "You might want to pay attention to where you're walking."
She never answered. Just walked the rest of the way home in silence.
I watched as she closed her front gate and went inside. Safe. The sun dipped behind the houses.
No reset.
I almost laughed with relief... until the world went white.
I woke up in bed. Again.
Waking up to the same dull ceiling once again was like sipping glass. The cycle had run its course again, but this time I had followed Subaru from sunup until dusk. I guarded her, kept her safe from harm, even thwarted an attacker with a blade, yet I was where I had begun.
I reviewed my notes, reliving every second. The danger never happened while she was with me. The moment the front door shut after her, power slipped from my grasp.
The window of suspicion was in her home.
I never saw what was going on there. I didn't know who she was with, or whether anyone was there at all. The loop punished me for blind spots.
Steadfast, I planned my next move: I must win her trust so she would allow me beyond that door, or persuade her to open it for me.
That was a challenge of a different sort.
Trust was not established by saving lives; it had to be won through silence and patience.
And if I lost, the loop would trap me there forever.
The morning sun fought to penetrate the narrow hall in which I stood outside Subaru's front door. My heartbeat was louder than the knocking. Every round had brought me closer to this moment , but getting into her world was an entirely different risk level.
She opened the door before I could knock again, eyes wide and cautious. "What are you doing here?"
I swallowed hard, forcing calm into my tone. "I have to be with you. Outside and in. All day long. You need to trust me."
Her eyes faltered, searching mine. Seconds passed. Then she let out a sigh and took a step back. "Okay. But if you make this weird, I'm sending you home."
Inside, the air was lightly sweet with jasmine and books. The apartment was small but tidy and lived-in. I saw photographs of her alone and with other people, a bookcase of just-so-stacked novels, one yellowed teddy bear on the couch.
I sat down beside her in the living room, and I remained by her side, watching everything she did. I saw then how much I didn't know, not just about the loop, but about the girl who'd become my entire purpose.
The hours passed. She talked quietly of school, of things she liked to do, even a few things she never thought she'd share. I listened, letting moments build trust instead of terror.
When night fell, I felt fatigue sweep over me like a tidal wave. But not this time, I wasn't afraid. For I was here.
For she lived.
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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.
Powerstones. Me. Give. Now.