I walked back to the post to keep investigating Oshi, but when I looked at the bridge… he wasn't there anymore.
My eyes darted across the area, scanning the empty railings, the quiet street, and the faint orange glow stretching across the sky. "He must've gone home," I muttered, forcing a weak chuckle as I rested my elbows on the cool metal railing.
For a brief moment, I let myself breathe. The sunset was breathtaking—shades of orange melting into soft yellows, painting the horizon like an artist's final masterpiece. It looked peaceful, like the world had no problems, no pain, no secrets. Just beauty.
I let out a long sigh, letting the wind brush past my hair. "This is so boring," I grumbled, lowering my head in disappointment.
But then—something caught my eye.
A faint flash of red below the bridge.
I squinted, leaning over the railing for a better look. My mind went blank. Every sound vanished, every thought stopped. The world around me froze in place.
There, at the bottom of the bridge, lay Oshi.
His body was twisted on the jagged rocks below, surrounded by a dark, spreading pool of blood. His hand was still clutching one of the ice cream sticks he'd bought earlier.
My heart sank. The air was knocked out of my lungs. I couldn't even speak. I just… stood there, trembling.
No words, no screams—only the sharp, sickening silence.
My hand rose instinctively to cover my mouth, the nauseating wave of realization crashing into me like a tidal wave. My knees nearly buckled as I stumbled back, forcing myself to breathe.
He's gone…
I turned around, staggering away from the rail. My mind was spinning, my throat closing in. I fumbled at my pocket, pulling out the walkie-talkie with trembling fingers.
"Hello? Hello! Is anyone there? Please respond, over!" My voice cracked as I shouted into the static.
For a few seconds, nothing came through—only that eerie, buzzing noise. Then finally, a familiar voice broke through the static.
"How's it going, kid? Mission doing good?"
It was the agent. The same man who'd briefed me before I started all this.
"He… he killed himself," I said, my voice trembling, my stomach twisting in knots.
There was silence on the other end, then his tone shifted—stern, cold, professional. "Who? Tell me exactly what happened."
So I told him everything. Every single detail. How I felt someone watching me, how I followed that feeling into an empty alleyway, and how when I came back—Oshi was already gone.
When I finished, the agent exhaled sharply through the radio. "Look, kid. He was a primary suspect, but that doesn't mean he was the culprit. You'll need to keep investigating who it could be. We're relying on you, kid."
And just like that, the line cut out, replaced by static.
I stared at the walkie-talkie, feeling my chest tighten.
"They don't care…" I whispered. "They just don't care if people die…"
I clenched the device in my hand, shaking. "The worst part is that I can't even do anything about it. It's not like I can go back in time…" My voice broke into a quiet whimper.
Then, suddenly—my thoughts froze.
Or can I?
My eyes widened slightly. I brought my hand to my chin, thinking back, tracing the pieces together.
"During the entrance exam…" I murmured. "How was I able to go back in time?" I began pacing, my mind racing a mile a minute. "Think. Think!"
And then it hit me like lightning.
"I get it," I whispered. "Each time that voice gives me a command, I have to complete it—or else I'll be killed and sent back to when the command was given."
My eyes narrowed. "Since the command was to catch the culprit, I haven't completed it yet… which means… I can still reset."
I turned my gaze toward the bridge again, the same bridge that claimed Oshi's life just minutes ago. The wind howled softly, tugging at my coat as the sun began to sink below the horizon.
"All I need to do," I whispered, "is find a way to get myself killed."
My lips curved into a small, almost bitter smile. "What better way than this?"
I walked toward the railing again, every step echoing in my mind like a countdown. My palms pressed against the cold metal as I looked down at the drop below.
The sunset had grown deeper now—orange fading into crimson, as if the sky itself was bleeding.
"I was given a second chance," I murmured. "The least I can do is give someone else one too."
I climbed over the railing, balancing myself on the narrow edge. My heart pounded like a drum inside my chest. I could feel the wind rushing against my clothes, the void below calling out to me.
"Please… work," I whispered, and I let go.
The air tore past me as I fell. The wind screamed in my ears, my body weightless, my heart racing. The world blurred—sky, bridge, ground—until everything became one dizzying swirl of motion.
Then—just as the ground rushed up to meet me—time stopped.
Tik… tok… tik… tok…
The faint sound of a pocket watch echoed in the silence.
My eyes shot open. The wind was gone. The blood was gone. The bridge was gone.
I was standing once more at the school's front gate, staring at a familiar scene.
Oshi was on the ground, clutching his knees as laughter and kicks echoed around him. The same moment. The same place. The same people.
I had done it.
This time, I didn't just stand by. I pushed through the crowd, forcing my way to the center. A tall, handsome guy with gray hair was stomping on Oshi's back—Kio.
Without hesitation, I clenched my fist and swung. My knuckles connected with his face, the impact sharp and satisfying. He stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood began to drip.
He glared at me, furious, eyes burning with rage.
I stared right back at him, unflinching. "Fight someone who can fight back," I said, my voice calm but sharp. "Or are you just scared?"
He straightened up, fists tightening. But before he could lunge, a voice boomed across the yard.
"Cut it out and get to class. Now!"
That bark belonged to the old man—the teacher. His tone carried authority sharp enough to slice through tension. Everyone immediately scattered, mumbling under their breath.
The bullies left. Oshi remained on the ground, trembling slightly, his breath shaky.
I crouched beside him, lowering my voice. "Hey, what's up, dude? Look, I'm new here. Don't really have any friends yet. Mind showing me around?"
He hesitated, looking up with tired, bloodshot eyes. Then he wiped his nose and gave a weak smile. "Sure… only because you helped me."
I grinned. "Great."
And just like that—time had been rewritten.