Chapter 3

The aroma of chamomile tea drifted through the air, curling like ghostly tendrils around Ren as he sat at the kitchen table. His fingers absently traced patterns against the ceramic cup, his mind clouded with the weight of unfamiliar familiarity. His breaths felt shallow, as if the world around him had grown thinner, more fragile.

"Master Ren, are you feeling unwell?" A soft voice pulled him from his trance.

He lifted his gaze to meet Yuki's, the household maid who had served his family for years. Her silver hair was neatly tied back, and her expression was one of polite concern, though her sharp eyes seemed to pierce through him. In that moment, he wondered—had she asked this before? Had they already shared these words in another loop?

"I… I'm not sure," he admitted, his own voice feeling distant to him.

Yuki tilted her head slightly, observing him as if trying to decipher a puzzle. "If something is troubling you, please do not hesitate to speak."

Ren almost laughed. If only it were that easy. How could he explain the gnawing sensation that the world had reset, leaving only him to remember? How could he tell her that he had seen this exact moment before, lived through the same exchange, yet remained powerless to change it?

Before he could respond, the doorbell rang, its chime echoing through the quiet house.

"I will answer it," Yuki said, excusing herself with graceful efficiency.

A moment later, a familiar voice rang through the entryway.

"Oi, Ren! You're not dead, are you?"

Ren stiffened.

Sora.

His childhood friend's voice carried the same teasing lilt it always had, but this time, it hit differently. As she stepped into the room, her auburn hair catching the light, Ren felt the weight of the loop press down on him. She had been through this moment before. Or at least, he had. But had she?

Sora flopped down onto the seat across from him, propping her chin on her hands. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Ren hesitated. "Have we… talked about this before?"

She blinked, tilting her head. "What?"

He could see the concern flicker in her eyes, but it was the kind of worry she reserved for someone grieving, not someone caught in an unending time loop. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Never mind. Forget it."

Sora didn't look convinced. Instead, she leaned back, crossing her arms. "Okay, seriously. What's up with you lately? First, you go all weird and distant, and now you're acting like a cryptic fortune teller. If this is about Kira, you can talk to me, you know?"

Kira.

Ren's grip on his cup tightened. Of course. Of course, that's what she would think. To her, his erratic behavior must seem like grief, like the weight of Kira's absence still dragging him down. And in some twisted way, she wasn't wrong. Kira's memory was part of this, woven into the very fabric of his entrapment in time.

"I just haven't been sleeping well," he finally said, forcing a small smile.

Sora narrowed her eyes. "Liar. But fine, if you don't want to talk, I won't push you. Just… don't go disappearing on me too."

Ren swallowed. The words hit harder than she intended.

Yuki returned then, placing a cup of tea in front of Sora before slipping out of the room, sensing the unspoken tension. Sora picked up her tea, staring into it as if the swirling liquid held answers.

"You have me, remember?" she murmured.

Ren nodded, but inside, uncertainty gnawed at him.

Because if this was just another loop, if time would reset again—

Would she still remember him when it all ended?