A faint ringing echoed in Kaizen's ears.
At first, it sounded like a dream—soft, distant. Then air filled his lungs, and his body jolted awake.
Tokyo.
The sunlight spilled through pale curtains, painting the room in calm gold. Outside, faint traffic murmured like a lullaby. For a moment, Kaizen lay still, staring at the ceiling in quiet confusion.
Wasn't I… dead?
He pushed himself upright, the bedsheet sliding off. His heart was beating too fast for a morning that looked this peaceful.
His studio apartment looked exactly as he remembered it years ago — the half-drawn sketches pinned to the walls, the faint smell of coffee and ink, and the cheap ceiling fan spinning lazily above.
He stood, unsteady, and looked at his reflection in the mirror.
A nineteen-year-old stared back — messy black hair, sharp eyes, that same restless energy he used to have before fame.
"…What the hell."
His hand trembled as he touched his face. No scar. No blood. No mark. Just the same old him.
Everything he remembered — Lyra's scream, Manajit's death, the rain freezing mid-air — it all flashed like shards of a nightmare.
He laughed softly, voice cracking.
"It was… just a dream?"
He looked around again, still dazed. His phone buzzed on the desk.
[New Notification: Senvidia meeting reminder — September 1, 2026]
Kaizen froze.
2026. Six years earlier than it should be.
His lips parted slightly, confusion spreading like mist.
"No way…"
He grabbed the calendar from the wall — the same date.
The same month.
The same year he first became famous.
For a long time, he just stood there, lost between panic and disbelief.
Then, slowly, a half-smile touched his lips.
"Maybe I've really overworked myself."
He sighed, walking to the window. Tokyo stretched before him, alive and bright. The same city that once made him dream — and later, suffocate.
He whispered,
"Guess the universe just wanted me to take a vacation."
He made coffee, scrolled through social media, and watched old headlines about himself — "Kaizen Aizawa: The Prodigy Who Divides a Nation."
The hate comments flooded beneath.
He remembered. How India, his home audience, had turned against him after his controversial manga arc. The pressure. The criticism. The endless debates.
Maybe the nightmare had been his brain breaking under stress — a subconscious warning.
He chuckled weakly. "Yeah… too much caffeine, too little sleep, and too many angry people online. No wonder I hallucinated an entire murder mystery."
Still, something in his chest wouldn't calm down.
That voice. That man with red eyes. That last line—
"Long time no see."
It echoed faintly in his mind like a forgotten melody.
Kaizen shook his head, forcing a grin. "Enough. Back to work, genius."
He grabbed his pencil, flipped open his sketchbook, and began to draw.
Lines flowed smoothly again. His hands were steady. The sound of graphite on paper grounded him — his only truth.
Outside, Tokyo moved as always. The sky was blue. The world was real.
Or so it seemed.
Scene Shift — Somewhere Beyond Light and Time
Lyra sat quietly in a small Tokyo café, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. The rain tapped gently against the window. For some reason, her chest felt heavy—like she had forgotten something important.
She looked up at the sky and whispered,
"Why does it feel like… I've lost someone?"
───────────────────────────
Follow & Support the Creator
Official: septemberdaysofficial
Gmail: [email protected]
───────────────────────────