I Wish…
When Sakura reached the hotel she was staying at temporarily, she slammed the door behind her with a heavy thud, the sound filling the quiet space. Without bothering to change out of her drenched dress, she flopped onto the bed, exhaustion overtaking her. The weight of the evening—Haru's confession, Mia's heartbreaking expression, and the slap that lingered in her mind—crushed her.
Sakura stared at the clock across the room, its golden digits glowing faintly: 11:11. Hugging herself tightly, she closed her eyes and whispered into the silence, "I wish…I wish I never helped you, Mia. I wish I could go back and fix everything. I wish I had a second chance."
The memories flooded her—every moment spent helping Mia win Haru's attention, every quiet smile she exchanged with him, every stolen glance when no one was looking. And now, it was all gone. She had lost everything—the man she loved, her best friend, and it was all because she couldn't say no to Mia that day.
If only I had said no to Mia and pursued Haru myself, she thought before drifting to sleep.
…
"Sakura!" a voice called out sharply.
"Ah!" Sakura jolted awake, her heart pounding. She blinked, trying to steady herself, and turned toward the voice. Her breath caught in her throat, and tears immediately filled her eyes. Standing in front of her, alive and well, was a man she thought she'd never see again.
"Daddy?" she whispered, her voice trembling. A single tear slid down her cheek.
Ren Suzuki, her father, stood there, looking at her with concern. His face was just as she remembered—kind, steady, and alive. As he stepped closer, she caught the familiar scent of peppermint clinging to him, just as it always had. Her heart ached at the memory.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?" he asked gently.
"Oh, Daddy!" Without hesitation, Sakura leapt up and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest as sobs overtook her. The scent of peppermint enveloped her, bringing with it a flood of memories—his laugh, his hugs, his unwavering presence. She clung to him tightly, letting the warmth of his embrace melt away her pain, if only for a moment.
She wept into his shirt, the dreamlike surrealness of the moment blurring her thoughts.
This has to be a dream. But if it is, I don't care. I don't ever want to wake up.
"I've missed you so much," Sakura sobbed. "I ruined everything, Daddy. I destroyed people's lives—Mia, Haru, myself. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm so lost without you."
Ren gently stroked her back, his confusion evident. "Sakura… I don't know what you're talking about. I'm right here. And how could you have missed me? I saw you just last night at dinner."
Sakura froze and pulled back, looking up at him. "Last night?" she repeated, stunned.
Ren's brows furrowed. "Yes, last night. You were laughing about that embarrassing story from college—the one about Mia making a scraping noise on her chair that sounded like a fart.
Sakura's breath caught. "College?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Daddy, I'm twenty eight. I graduated college years ago. I'm a lawyer now, in Osaka. And… you… you're gone."
Her voice cracked on the last word, and her eyes filled with fresh tears. She reached out to touch his face, as if confirming he was real. "I lost you three years ago, in the accident. But you're here now. Oh, God, you're here." She smiled through her tears and lay back in her bed, clutching the moment desperately. "Please don't wake me up. Please let me stay like this."
Ren crouched beside her, his worry deepening. "Sakura… what are you saying? I'm right here. You haven't lost me. And what's all this about Osaka? You've never been to Osaka."
Sakura sat up abruptly, her pulse quickening. Her eyes darted around the room. The bed was different, smaller and softer than the hotel's. The walls weren't the neutral gray she remembered but were painted Off white.
Her gaze fell on the desk in the corner, cluttered with notebooks and pens. Above it, a corkboard displayed pinned-up photos of her and her college friends, smiling and carefree back in Tokyo. She barely recognised the girl in the pictures—a younger version of herself, unburdened by the weight of the years to come.
Sakura knew this place inside out. It was her old room back in Tokyo.
"What… what is this?" she whispered. Her hands trembled as she turned back to her father. "Daddy… what's going on?"
Ren's eyes softened at his only child, though his worry didn't waver. "Sweetheart, just stay calm. I'll call the doctor, and everything will be fine."
But Sakura's mind was racing too fast to hear him. This isn't possible. This can't be. Did I…go back in time?