The line went dead.
The containment metrics froze on the central holoscreen, numbers locked mid-climb, the recursive signature still pulsing faintly like a heartbeat refusing to stop.
No one in the observation chamber spoke.
Satori's fingers tightened on the railing.
And then.
The world stilled.
....
Sunlight filtered through the trees of a neighborhood park, warm and unremarkable.
He was ten years old, walking carefully along the path, a folded test paper held in one hand like it mattered more than it should. The red 100 circled at the top peeked through the crease. He didn't hide it. There was no need to.
Smiling, ear to ear. Once again, he was going to be praised for hard work after all.
Not smug. Just… assured. The kind of calm confidence that didn't come just from effort, but from expectation.
He stopped near the park entrance.
Voices carried.
"Look at this!" Suneo's laugh rang out, sharp and delighted. He was waving a piece of paper above his head, just out of reach. "Zero! Zero points! Is that even possible?!"
Nobita stood beneath it, hands half-raised, half-frozen. His face was red. Eyes wet. Useless apologies tumbling out faster than anyone listened.
His smile faded.
He stepped forward. "Hey. Give that back."
Suneo turned, surprised, then grinned wider. "Why? It's hilarious."
Before Dekisugi could say anything else, Shizuka appeared between them, snatching the paper cleanly from Suneo's hand.
"That's enough," she said, sharp but gentle. She turned to Nobita. "Are you okay?"
Nobita shook his head, lip trembling.
Dekisugi stood there, words caught somewhere between his chest and throat.
Why?
The question surfaced uninvited, then sank just as quickly.
...
Another day.
Another afternoon.
He watched from across the street as Nobita ran, legs clumsy, breath ragged. Gian's shadow loomed behind him, loud footsteps pounding closer.
"Get back here!"
Nobita tripped.
Before Gian could reach him, a blue blur shot forward.
Doraemon planted himself between them, arms wide, expression unchanging.
"No violence," he said flatly.
"Hah, what? Are you trying to fight me, doraemon?!" Gian lunged forth.
"Air canon!" Doraemon pulled our the gadget, pointing it at gian.
Gian skidded to a stop, scowling, then scoffed. "Tch."
He left.
Nobita sat up slowly, tears spilling freely now. Doraemon hovered, patting his shoulder in an oddly practiced rhythm.
Shizuka arrived moments later, kneeling beside him without hesitation.
He watched Nobita's face change.
Fear. Relief. Dependence.
"Why?" The words left the kid's mouth.
He didn't feel angry...Nor jealous... Just... Confused.
Later still.
All of them stood together.
Gian. Suneo. Shizuka. Doraemon.
Nobita in the middle, still crying, still helpless.
Still surrounded.
He lingered at the edge of the park, half-turned away, already preparing to leave.
"Hey, Dekisugi!" Nobita called out, waving with both hands. "Come here!"
He hesitated.
Then he smiled, adjusted his grip on the test paper, and walked over.
"Why… him?"
The thought didn't hurt.
It didn't accuse.
It simply… existed.
And then, like always, life moved on.
.....
The present returned without warning.
Steel walls. Cold light. The hum of machinery.
The observation chamber.
The man in the doorway stepped fully into view.
"I'm Dekisugi," he said calmly. "A childhood friend of Nobita Nobi."
Satori's eyes sharpened instantly.
Recognition clicked into place—not from memory, but from data.
"The 'genius' chairman of the International Research Organization," Satori said quietly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Dekisugi sighed. "Please don't say it like that."
He adjusted his glasses, expression mild, almost apologetic."We have more important things to discuss."
Satori straightened.
"You have no authority to interfere with Time Patrol operations," he said, voice controlled, precise. "This mission falls under—"
"—Temporal bleed containment," Dekisugi finished for him, smiling faintly. "Yes. I know."
Satori's hand hovered near his sidearm.
Dekisugi met his gaze without flinching.
"Even if I told you," Dekisugi continued, tone softening, "that I could stop this one…"
He paused.
"No," he corrected himself. "Stop the bleeds altogether."
The room seemed to contract.
Satori did not blink.
Behind them, the holoscreen flickered once.
And the recursion continued.