Chapter 15: Monday, Like Any Other
Monday arrived without ceremony.
No ticking louder than usual.
No glitches in the sky.
No strange symbols blinking on screens.
Just an alarm at 6:30 a.m., sunlight slipping through the curtains, and the distant sound of the city waking up like it always did.
Jay opened his eyes and lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
Nothing moved.
Nothing waited.
Nothing asked anything of him.
He let out a slow breath and sat up.
"…Good," he murmured. "Let's keep it that way."
---
The morning routine unfolded exactly as it should.
Brush teeth.
Cold water on his face.
Instant coffee that still tasted terrible but felt familiar enough to be comforting.
Jay stood by the window as he drank it, watching Aryavart stretch itself awake. Traffic flowed. Drones hummed. Somewhere below, a vendor argued loudly with a delivery bot that refused to accept cash.
Life, unapologetically mundane.
For the first time in days, Jay didn't feel like he was waiting for something to happen.
He packed his bag, checked his phone—no alerts, no strange time stamps—and headed out.
---
The walk to school felt lighter.
Not because the world had changed.
But because he had.
Jay noticed small things again—the way the solar trees adjusted their leaves toward the sun, the faint smell of bread from a corner shop, the sound of laughter drifting from a group of students ahead of him.
None of it felt distorted.
None of it felt symbolic.
It was just… there.
And that was enough.
---
At school, Reina was already in their usual spot.
She looked up when she saw him and paused, studying his face.
"…You look different," she said.
Jay raised an eyebrow. "Good different or 'you're about to disappear again' different?"
She smiled faintly. "Good different."
He sat down beside her. "I slept."
Reina blinked. "Like… actually slept?"
"Shockingly, yes."
She laughed softly. "Wow. Miracles do happen."
Jay leaned back in his chair, letting the quiet noise of the classroom settle around him.
No clocks stuttered.
No air warped.
The board displayed today's lesson plan: Mathematics — Probability Models.
Jay stared at it for a second, then smiled.
"Figures," he muttered. "After everything, I get probability."
Reina tilted her head. "What?"
"Nothing," he said. "Just… irony."
---
Classes passed uneventfully.
Painfully uneventfully.
Jay took notes. Answered questions. Zoned out a little during lectures that felt longer than they needed to be.
At lunch, he sat with Reina under the solar trees again. They talked about homework, upcoming exams, and a rumor about one of the teachers secretly being an underground poet.
Normal conversations.
Comfortable ones.
At some point, Reina glanced at him and said quietly,
"You're not running today."
Jay paused.
Then nodded.
"No. I think… I'm done with that."
She didn't ask what he meant.
She just accepted it.
---
After school, Jay walked home alone.
The river flowed calmly.
The streets were busy but unremarkable.
The sky looked exactly like a sky should.
He stopped briefly at a crosswalk, watching the signal count down.
5… 4… 3…
It didn't loop.
It didn't glitch.
It reached zero and changed like it was supposed to.
Jay crossed the street, hands in his pockets, heart steady.
---
That night, he sat at his desk with a textbook open and a half-finished assignment beside it.
He wasn't rushing.
He wasn't overthinking.
Just… doing it.
At some point, his phone buzzed.
A message from Yukimin.
[Did u do ur homework or r u pretending to be responsible again]
Jay smiled and typed back.
[I'm actually doing it.
Don't tell anyone.]
A moment later:
[Too late. Told mom.]
Jay groaned quietly and leaned back in his chair.
Outside, the city lights flickered on one by one.
Somewhere deep beneath Aryavart, the ancient mechanism remained still—
not broken, not gone, simply waiting.
But for today—
for this ordinary, forgettable, peaceful Monday—
time asked nothing of Jay Arkwell.
And he was more than happy to give it exactly that.