Chrono Reset

The rain hadn't stopped.

Kaito stood there, soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin. The storm had come out of nowhere, and he hadn't been prepared. His mind, however, was far from the cold chill running through his body.

Sayuri was buried now. His mind still couldn't process it, but he knew it was real. His heart ached with the weight of grief, but his voice refused to leave him. His tears had dried up hours ago, leaving behind an emptiness he couldn't escape.

Mrs. Fujimori, Sayuri's mother, stood by the grave, her face pale and tear-streaked. She clutched a bouquet of lilies to her chest, her fingers trembling slightly. Every so often, her shoulders would shudder, a silent sob breaking through her usually composed demeanor. But she didn't speak to anyone. She didn't even look up when Kaito stood behind her.

Kaito wanted to say something. Anything. But the words caught in his throat. I'm sorry felt too hollow. I should've been faster sounded like an excuse. Nothing seemed right, and every time he opened his mouth, nothing came out.

Koji, standing a few steps away, looked at Kaito, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He glanced at Mrs. Fujimori but didn't say anything either. Both knew that words wouldn't be enough today. Koji wasn't the type to show much emotion, but the sight of Sayuri's mother, utterly devastated, had drained any semblance of humor from him.

"I... I don't know what to say, man," Koji muttered, his voice quieter than usual.

Kaito's lips parted, but no words came. His chest felt tight, the weight of his unspoken thoughts pressing in on him. He wished he could have done something, anything, to stop it. But he hadn't been fast enough. He wasn't there when she needed him.

Koji stepped closer, his usually carefree demeanor now somber. He placed a hand on Kaito's shoulder, his grip firm but supportive. "Hey, we'll make it through this, alright?" Koji said, his voice soft. "Sayuri... she wouldn't want us to fall apart."

Kaito looked at his friend, but his thoughts were miles away. Sayuri's voice echoed in his mind, I love you, Kaito. If only I had been faster... His hands clenched into fists, but nothing could stop the crushing weight of regret.

Koji gave him a brief nod before turning back toward Mrs. Fujimori. "I'm gonna go check on her," he muttered, his tone almost apologetic. "I'll give you some space."

Kaito just nodded, the words stuck behind his lips.

Koji walked toward Sayuri's mother, who had finally dropped the bouquet of lilies onto the grave. She was staring at the headstone, her body trembling with quiet sobs.

"Ms. Fujimori," Koji started, his voice gentle. "I'm so sorry. If there's anything I can do—"

Mrs. Fujimori turned toward him, her face a mix of grief and exhaustion. Her voice was soft, but firm. "It's not your fault, Koji. You couldn't have known."

Koji hesitated, guilt flashing across his face. He had seen her just a few days ago, laughing with Sayuri. And now... she was gone. All that was left was this unbearable emptiness.

"I... just wish I could've done more," Koji said, his voice breaking.

Mrs. Fujimori gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "We all do. But what's important now is that we keep moving forward. For Sayuri." Her words were heavy with grief, but there was a quiet strength behind them.

Kaito, still standing at a distance, watched the exchange. He didn't belong in that conversation, but it pained him to feel so disconnected from everything. He wished he could say something—anything—to make it better, to make her grief less unbearable.

But he couldn't. He knew that.

As Koji left to join some of the others who had come to pay their respects, Kaito walked quietly to the grave. Sayuri's name was carved into the stone, the letters still so fresh, as if they had just been etched there yesterday. A cool breeze stirred the air, and Kaito shuddered. The faint smell of lilies lingered, and for a brief moment, he felt like Sayuri was still there.

His mind flashed to the memory of her confession, I love you, Kaito. It echoed in his ears, ringing louder than anything else. But then, that sound began to fade, replaced by the cold reality that she was gone. Gone forever.

Kaito sank to his knees, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the grave. If only I had been there sooner... His heart felt like it was being torn apart all over again. If he had just moved faster, been quicker, maybe he could have saved her.

"If I had the chance," he whispered, his voice shaking, "I would've saved you... Sayuri."

But no one answered. No comforting words came from the world around him. There was nothing. Only silence.

Kaito's hands clenched the wet grass beneath him, the cold seeping through his fingertips. The world felt hollow, like a shell of what it once was. And as he looked up at the sky, the clouds heavy with rain, he realized he couldn't stay here any longer. The weight of it all was too much.

He stood, wiping his eyes quickly, trying to compose himself. He turned to leave, his footsteps slow, his mind heavy with the pain of what he had just experienced.

But then, a sudden screech of tires tore through the air.

Kaito froze, his heart stopping. A red car came into view, skidding slightly as it pulled up near him. Before he could react, the window rolled down, and a man's face appeared. The same man Kaito had seen earlier—the one who had been standing by the rooftop.

His eyes locked on Kaito, cold and emotionless, before he raised a gun.

Kaito's blood ran cold.

The man fired.

Kaito gasped, the pain exploding in his chest as the bullet tore through him. His body crumpled to the ground, knees buckling, the rain mixing with his blood. His hands went to the wound instinctively, but the blood wouldn't stop flowing. His vision blurred. His breaths came in ragged gasps.

"No..." Kaito choked out, his voice barely a whisper. His legs wobbled, and he forced himself to stand, though every step felt like he was dragging a mountain behind him. He had to make it to the hospital. He had to—he couldn't die here.

But with each step, his vision grew darker. His mind clouded. The world around him blurred.

And then, as the cold and darkness overwhelmed him, he collapsed, his body hitting the wet pavement with a sickening thud.

When Kaito opened his eyes, he wasn't in the cemetery anymore.

He was standing in front of the school gates, the morning sunlight breaking through the clouds, a gentle breeze ruffling his hair. The school's usual hustle and bustle filled the air, and everything felt... wrong. He could hear Koji's voice nearby, laughing about some RPG raid. Kaito blinked, his mind spinning.

He was at school...?

No. That couldn't be right. He had just... he had just died.

He rubbed his head, trying to steady himself. Everything was a blur. Was this a dream?

Koji walked up to him, grinning like nothing had happened. "Yo, Kaito! What's up, man? You look like you just saw a ghost!"

Kaito's heart pounded. The feeling was overwhelming. He looked around. Everything was the same. The school, the sounds, the voices. What was going on?

"Koji..." Kaito said, his voice tight. "Didn't... didn't I just...?"

Koji raised an eyebrow, his grin fading slightly. "You alright, man? You're acting all weird today."

The unease in Kaito's chest deepened, but he forced himself to speak. "Yeah... I'm fine. Just... tired." He couldn't explain it. He didn't even know how to begin.

Koji shrugged, oblivious to Kaito's inner turmoil. "Well, whatever. You're in for tonight, right? We're raiding again. Don't bail on me, alright?"

Kaito nodded absently, his mind racing. Something wasn't right. But what? Was it déjà vu? Or something else entirely?

As the bell rang, signaling the start of class, Kaito followed Koji, but deep inside, a nagging thought consumed him.

Why do I feel like this has all happened before?