I promised her.
Don't rewind tonight.
I repeat it to myself like it might stick. Like promises mean anything to time.
Mika falls asleep early. Homework sprawled across her desk, pencil still in her hand. I pull a blanket over her shoulders and stand there longer than necessary, listening to her breathe.
Steady. Alive.
My chest loosens a little.
See? I tell myself. Nothing bad happened. You don't need to touch time tonight.
I go back to my room.
Lie down.
Stare at the ceiling.
Ten minutes pass.
Then—
A sound.
Not loud. Not dramatic.
Glass.
Breaking.
I sit up.
My heart knows before my brain does.
"Mika?" I call.
No answer.
The sound comes again. From downstairs.
Something heavy. A thud.
My hands are shaking as I stand. Every step down the stairs feels like I'm walking into a memory I've already lived.
The living room light is on.
The window—
Shattered.
Cold night air pours in.
"Mika!" I shout, running.
She's on the floor.
Not blood this time.
She's conscious. Crying. Holding her arm.
"Ren—!" Her voice cracks. "Someone tried to grab me—I—I screamed and he ran—"
I drop to my knees beside her, checking her arm, her legs, her face. Bruises. Scratches. Nothing fatal.
Nothing yet.
Police sirens wail somewhere far away.
I pull her into a hug so tight she gasps.
"It's okay," I whisper, even though it's not. "You're okay."
She nods against my chest, shaking.
"I was getting water," she sobs. "I didn't hear him until—"
My stomach twists.
Because I didn't see this.
No dream. No warning.
Which means—
This wasn't supposed to happen.
After the police leave. After the neighbors stop whispering. After Mika finally falls asleep again, exhaustion dragging her under—
I sit alone in the dark.
My promise echoes in my head.
Don't rewind tonight.
Luna's voice. Calm. Certain.
If you do, I won't hesitate next time.
I look at my hands.
They're steady now.
Too steady.
"If I don't rewind," I whisper, "next time he might succeed."
The thought burns.
I stand.
Walk to the center of the room.
Close my eyes.
"I'm sorry," I say—to Luna, to time, to whatever's listening. "I can't keep that promise."
I focus.
Harder than before.
Go back.
The pull hits like a fist.
My vision explodes into white.
Pain screams through my skull, louder than ever. I taste metal. I feel something tear loose inside my head—
Then—
I'm standing in the kitchen.
The glass is whole.
The clock reads 11:42 PM.
Before the window breaks.
Before Mika screams.
I gasp, clutching the counter, barely staying upright.
My head is spinning. Worse than before. Much worse.
"Okay," I pant. "Okay. You did it."
I rush upstairs.
Mika's door is closed.
I open it slowly.
She's asleep. Peaceful. Unhurt.
Relief crashes into me so hard I almost cry.
I turn to leave—
And stop.
Something's wrong.
I look back at her desk.
Her notebooks.
Her posters.
They're familiar.
But the feeling attached to them is… muted.
I stare at her face.
My heart stutters.
"Mika," I whisper.
I know that's her name.
I know she's my sister.
I know I love her.
But—
Why do I love her?
The memories connected to that feeling feel thinner. Like pages torn from a book, leaving only the summary.
Cold fear floods my chest.
"No," I whisper. "No, no—"
I press my hands to my head.
I can still remember her laugh.
But the sound of it?
Faint.
Like it's playing from another room.
I stumble back into the hallway, breathing fast.
"That's the cost," I whisper.
Not a name.
Not a detail.
A connection.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
I already know who it is.
Unknown Number:You rewound.
My fingers tremble as I type.
Me: She was almost taken.
Seconds pass.
Then—
Unknown Number:I warned you.
Another message follows immediately.
Different sender.
A different number.
Luna:I felt it.
My heart sinks.
Luna:That was a deep cut, Ren.
I lean against the wall, sliding down until I'm sitting on the floor.
Me: She's alive.
Three dots.
Pause.
Then—
Luna:And what did you lose?
I close my eyes.
Images flicker. Mika as a baby. Mika learning to walk. Mika crying after a bad dream.
They're still there.
But further away.
Like they don't belong to me anymore.
Me: …I don't know yet.
The reply takes longer this time.
When it comes, it's short.
Luna:That's the worst kind.
I stare at the screen, chest aching.
I broke my promise.
I saved my sister.
And something inside me quietly stepped back… and didn't return.
I look down the hallway toward Mika's room.
"She's alive," I whisper again. Like saying it enough times will glue the pieces back together.
Outside, the night is silent.
Too silent.
Somewhere out there, Luna is watching the scar I just carved into myself.
And next time—
She might not let me do it again.