The train hummed softly as it sped through the heart of Tokyo, sunlight spilling over the tracks. The city stretched endlessly outside, alive with neon signs and morning chatter, but inside the train car, there were only three voices that mattered.
Mahitaro sat between Gekidō and Yasuke, his fingers pressed against the glass as the skyline blurred past. He was fourteen now. Older, taller, yet his eyes still carried the faint tremble of someone who had lived too many lives for his age.
Beside him, Gekidō leaned back, red hair catching the light like a flame. He wasn't smiling, not exactly — but there was peace in his face, the kind of peace Mahitaro thought he'd never see in him again. And Yasuke, their older brother, tapped his foot impatiently with the carefree confidence of someone who wanted this day to matter.
"Oi, stop staring out the window like some tragic poet," Yasuke teased, nudging Mahitaro. "We're going to an amusement park, not a funeral."
Mahitaro blinked, startled, then laughed softly — the sound raw, almost rusty from how little he used it. "I just... I don't know. Feels unreal, you know? Like... days like this aren't supposed to exist for us."
Gekidō's eyes shifted to him, a shadow flickering behind them, but he said nothing. Yasuke filled the silence with his usual loud, unshakable warmth.
"Then we make it real. Today, no loops, no regrets, no looking back. Just us."
Arrival at the Park
The gates of Tokyo's grand new amusement park loomed before them, colorful banners whipping in the wind. Children ran past with balloons, couples posed for photos, and the air was filled with the smell of fried food and the faint roar of roller coasters.
For a moment, Mahitaro felt it — a life that could have been. A life without death, without blood, without chains of fate. He watched as Yasuke threw his arm around both him and Gekidō, dragging them forward like they were all just brothers with nothing to lose.
And Gekidō... for once, didn't pull away.
"Let's ride everything," Yasuke declared. "If we puke, we puke together."
Mahitaro laughed again, shaking his head. "That's not exactly reassuring."
But he followed anyway, and so did Gekidō, his rare half-smile hidden beneath his hair.
Moments of Peace
They ran from ride to ride — the spinning cups, the towering Ferris wheel, the games of chance with prizes they could never quite win.
Mahitaro watched Yasuke laugh so freely, the way his older brother once never could. He watched Gekidō — the kid who once drowned in despair — smile as a person pointed at his red hair in awe instead of mockery.
And in those moments, Mahitaro's heart ached with something heavier than grief. It was longing.
"Is this what it was all for? All the loops, all the suffering... just to reach a day like this?"
They shared food, trading bites of fried octopus and cotton candy, Yasuke pretending to scold them for stealing his share. They teased one another, laughed until their stomachs hurt, and for hours, it was as if the world had finally let them breathe.
Mahitaro whispered at one point, almost too soft to hear:
"I don't ever want this to end."
And Gekidō, hearing him, lowered his gaze — because he knew nothing lasted forever.
Shadows in the Crowd
But somewhere in the throng of smiling faces, someone watched.
A person with green hair slicked back just enough to hide his sharp, dangerous eyes. His shirt was pressed, tie neatly knotted, though it looked absurd in the heat of the park. He didn't laugh. He didn't smile. He only watched.
Every time the brothers turned a corner, he was there — blending into the crowd, his presence like a phantom. His gaze lingered on Mahitaro, never blinking.
Mahitaro never noticed. But once, while Gekidō was laughing faintly at Yasuke's failed attempt at a ring toss game, he felt something. A chill. Like someone had reached inside him and squeezed his lungs. He turned, scanning the crowd.
No one. Just strangers. Just families.
He forced himself to laugh with them again, to push the feeling away.
The Ferris Wheel
As evening fell, the three boarded the Ferris wheel, its lights glowing red and gold against the deepening sky. From the top, Tokyo spread out like a sea of stars.
Mahitaro leaned against the glass, trembling at the sight. "It's... beautiful."
Yasuke grinned, ruffling his hair. "See? Told you this would be a day to remember."
And Gekidō — who almost never spoke his heart — muttered, "If only it could stay like this."
Mahitaro turned to him, eyes wide. But before he could ask, Yasuke interrupted, joking about how the Ferris wheel made him look handsome from above.
They laughed again, but that small confession stuck in Mahitaro's stomach like a knife.
The Ending of the Day
As the park lights glittered, the three of them walked out together, shoulders brushing, cotton candy bags swinging in their hands. Their laughter echoed into the night air, soft, fragile, real.
But just before they left the gates, Mahitaro felt it again — that pull in his heart, that invisible hand choking him. He turned, scanning the sea of strangers.
And for the briefest second, he saw him.
The figure in the suit.
Dark green hair.
Eyes sharp enough to slice through him.
And then he was gone, swallowed by the crowd.
Mahitaro froze. His heart thudded painfully. But Yasuke's hand on his shoulder pulled him back.
"Come on, little brother. Don't fall behind. This is only the beginning."
Mahitaro forced a smile.
But inside, something whispered:
"The beginning of what?"
Part II: "The Smile That Vanished Too Soon"
The neon glow of the amusement park still clung to their skin when they checked into the hotel that night. The building was nothing extravagant — a cheap tourist lodge across the street, walls painted in fading colors, the scent of cleaning spray heavy in the halls.
But to Mahitaro, Gekidō, and Yasuke, it felt like a palace.
For the first time in what felt like forever, they had no weight pressing on them. No shadows. No death. Just a room, two beds, and laughter spilling into the dim night.
The Hotel Night
"Alright, dibs on the big bed!" Yasuke announced, tossing his jacket aside and sprawling across the mattress like a king.
Mahitaro groaned, dragging Gekidō with him toward the smaller one. "Of course you would..."
But even as he complained, there was warmth in his voice. Gekidō gave the faintest chuckle, dropping down beside him without protest.
For hours they talked — about nothing, about everything. About school, about food they wanted to try, about how ridiculous Yasuke's laugh was when he tried too hard.
Mahitaro found himself staring at them both at one point, quiet, the weight of the loops heavy in his heart. He had saved them. He had fought through hell to bring this night into existence. And now, looking at his brothers framed by the dim light of the hotel lamp, he felt tears sting his eyes.
He didn't cry. Not then. He only whispered to himself as they slept:
"Tomorrow... it'll be even better. Tomorrow, nothing bad will happen."
The Morning
The sun rose bright and merciless, flooding Tokyo with gold. The park gates opened, the crowds swarmed, and the three brothers — refreshed, alive — ran straight back in.
Today was different. Today, the Grand Roller Coaster was open. The park's pride, a towering steel beast that twisted into the clouds, roaring like thunder as it carried its victims — its riders — into the sky before dropping them into madness.
Yasuke's eyes lit up the moment he saw it. "This... this is the one. The ride that'll make us legends."
Mahitaro laughed nervously, clinging to Gekidō's arm. "Or corpses."
But Gekidō, strangely, didn't look afraid. He tilted his head, crimson eyes narrowing. "Legends, then."
The Roller Coaster
The lines were long, the excitement electric. They squeezed through the waiting crowd, laughing, shoving one another, until finally — finally — Mahitaro and Gekidō reached the front.
But Yasuke was a second too late. A gate closed between them, the operator shaking his head.
"Next round," the worker said.
Mahitaro turned, panic flashing across his face. "Wait, no, we'll—"
But Yasuke cut him off with a grin, holding up his phone. "Go! I'll film you two. I want to see your terrified faces from every angle."
Mahitaro froze. Gekidō tugged at him. The ride was about to start.
Yasuke's grin softened into something else — something heavier, almost paternal. "Don't worry. I'll be right here. Always."
The Blood in the Crowd
As the coaster roared to life, Mahitaro and Gekidō were pulled into the sky, the world tilting beneath them. Yasuke's phone tracked them, his voice loud, teasing. "Wave, idiots! Show me some courage!"
And then...
A shadow.
A figure brushing past the crowd behind him. Wrinkled hands. A black suit that didn't belong. The faint perfume of dust and something rotten.
Yasuke barely had time to notice the glint of steel.
The knife slid into his ribs before he could even scream.
His phone clattered to the ground, camera still rolling, as his breath hitched, wet and broken. The crowd surged around him, too caught up in the roaring coaster to see.
Blood soaked his shirt. His knees buckled. The world spun.
The Last Sight
Through the blur of agony, Yasuke turned his head. The "grandma" in the black suit leaned over him, face wrinkled yet wrong, eyes too sharp for her age. For a split second, something in her face clawed at his memory — a figure from his childhood, a stranger in the background of an old day. Someone who should not be here.
And then he saw the phone in her hand.
She raised it to her ear, lips moving. He couldn't hear — his ears were drowning in static, his vision smearing into red — but he saw the face on the glowing screen.
Dark green hair. Red contacts. Eyes that burned with hatred.
The voice on the phone came in muffled, like a nightmare whisper pressed against his skull.
「Yasuke wa... owatta.」
(Yasuke is finished.)
「Tsugi wa... Mahitaro to Gekidō da.」
(Next are Mahitaro and Gekidō.)
Yasuke's eyes widened, blood bubbling at his lips. He tried to scream, to warn them — but only a wet gasp escaped.
The last thing he saw before the world swallowed him was the roller coaster — Mahitaro and Gekidō screaming in exhilaration, arms raised high. Smiling. Alive.
Unaware.
And then his vision shattered into darkness.
Part III: "The Ferris Wheel of Graves"
The roller coaster screeched to a stop, the restraints unlocking with a heavy clang. Mahitaro stumbled out, heart pounding, laughter still caught in his throat. His legs shook, but his face was glowing with exhilaration.
"That was insane!" he shouted, gripping Gekidō's arm. "Did you see the drop? I thought we were dead!"
But Gekidō wasn't smiling. His crimson eyes had shifted, sharp with unease. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and when he checked the notification, his expression broke.
"They rushed Yasuke to the hospital..." His voice trembled, alien in its fragility. "Something happened down there. He—he collapsed."
The joy drained from Mahitaro instantly. "What?"
The crowd was already buzzing with confusion — whispers, screams, commotion gathering near the edge of the park. Ambulances blared in the distance.
Mahitaro grabbed Gekidō's hand. "We have to go. Now."
The Trap
They ran through the park, shoving past families, children clutching balloons, workers shouting to control the chaos. The ground beneath them felt wrong somehow — the pavement oddly raised in sections, like wires buried underneath.
And then it happened.
A faint click.
The air snapped like a gunshot.
Mahitaro's foot had pressed down on something hidden beneath the tiles — a pressure plate so subtle no one else had triggered it.
"Mahitaro—!" Gekidō shoved him back, taking his place in the trap's cruel design.
Metal cords shot out like vipers, snapping taut around Gekidō's throat and stomach. His body was yanked upward with inhuman speed, dragged into the towering Ferris wheel above them. His strangled scream echoed, broken and desperate, as the cords tightened, hoisting him like a marionette.
"No! Gekidō!" Mahitaro screamed, clawing at the cords, but they only burned his hands, cutting him open with every attempt.
Gekidō's eyes bulged, tears streaking down his face. His mouth opened, no sound but a gurgle escaping. Mahitaro's cries blended with his, shaking, thrashing, begging.
Then, with a sickening crack, the Ferris wheel shuddered.
The cords, tied into its gears, ripped them apart.
The towering structure groaned, metal screaming, bolts flying into the air. Families still seated inside had no warning before the entire Ferris wheel collapsed in a storm of shattering beams and shrieks.
It came down like a monster, crushing the crowd beneath it. Screams turned to silence in seconds, millions of lives shredded by steel.
The Survivor
And somehow... somehow Mahitaro lived.
Pinned beneath twisted metal, both legs shattered, his stomach caved in, blood pouring from his mouth, he crawled. His nails tore away against the concrete, teeth cracking as vomit mixed with red filled his throat.
His brother. His best friend. Thousands of strangers. All gone.
The sirens grew louder. Police flooded in, pulling at the debris, dragging survivors out. They reached Mahitaro, shouting to one another.
"He's alive! Get him out—!"
But Mahitaro barely heard them. His screams drowned out the world, raw, animal, like a wolf howling at its own grave. Tears streamed into the blood caking his face.
His voice broke into sobs, vomit spilling, his body convulsing under the weight of despair. "Why?! WHY?! Not again—! Not again, please...!"
The Execution
That's when the shadows shifted.
A slow clap echoed through the ruin.
From the smoke stepped a figure in an office worker's suit, tie loosened, green hair slicked back. His sharp psychotic eyes burned even through the haze. Eruto.
But not the Eruto Mahitaro remembered.
Beside him was the wrinkled form of the "grandma in black," her face still veiled in false age, her lips twisted into a grotesque grin.
"Boom."
The word slipped from Eruto's lips like venom.
The air snapped again. Fishing line tripwires, invisible to the rushing officers, triggered rows of mounted guns hidden in the wreckage. The park erupted into gunfire.
Police were shredded instantly, bodies flung apart like ragdolls. Blood sprayed across the broken rides, staining the neon signs crimson.
Mahitaro watched, helpless, as every person who tried to save him was cut down.
The Final Words
Eruto strode toward him, stepping over corpses with practiced calm. His shoes clicked against the blood-slick pavement.
Mahitaro, broken and trembling, forced words past the bile rising in his throat. His eyes locked onto Eruto's, catching a glint of something familiar, something impossible. He whispered, voice breaking:
"Why... why do you remember me? You're not... you're not him... You can't remember. I changed the future... and I never got the chance to meet you. You avoided me back then, because of the whole brother thing in school—you thought I was weird. And since we were never friends, you didn't bother to see me after that incident on the rooftop... when I cried and yelled about loops. The rumors spread about some strange eight-year-old screaming and crying about supernatural powers, but no one believed me... except Gekido and Yasuke, of course. I knew they would. But... because of all that, we shouldn't have met. So why... why do you remember me? And why are you... so different? All because I never met you in this timeline... what is happening?"
Eruto knelt, pressing the barrel of his gun against Mahitaro's ribs. His smile was carved in cruelty.
"I'm not the Eruto you knew," he whispered, voice like shattered glass. "And you? You're the Mahitaro who forgot me. That's all that matters. Every death... every scream tonight... was worth the price to show you what forgetting costs."
Mahitaro sobbed, coughing blood into Eruto's face. "You... monster..."
Eruto's smile widened. "No. You made me this way."
The trigger clicked.
The Loop Reset
Mahitaro's body convulsed, the bullet ripping through him. He gurgled, vomit and blood flooding his mouth. His eyes rolled, tears streaming.
For forty seconds, silence. Nothing but the sound of his choking, of his body twitching against the concrete.
Then—
The world bent.
Time twisted.
Mahitaro snapped awake, back in his bed, gasping, screaming, clutching at his heart as though the hole were still there. Vomit spilled over his lips, turning red as blood mixed in, dripping down his chin.
He knew it. A new checkpoint. A new endless hell.
And he screamed into the darkness of his hotel room, voice breaking like a child's:
"Why... why do I have to suffer again?!"
Part IV: "Night Before the Carnage"
The room was suffocating. Mahitaro lay on the cold hotel bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Darkness clung to the corners, pressing in like a living thing. The neon glow from the city outside barely reached him, casting long, distorted shadows that danced like ghosts over the walls.
He could still hear it all. The screams. The clanging of the roller coaster cords snapping. The Ferris wheel groaning and collapsing. Gekidō's strangled gasp as the rope tightened. Yasuke's stabbing. Thousands of screams, hundreds of bodies falling, drowning in twisted metal and concrete. He could still see the blood on the pavement, the fragments of what had been his world ripped apart.
And now he was here. Alone.
The Reset
The night had pulled him back—reset him to the hotel room, hours before the calamity. Everyone else was asleep. Mahitaro could hear the gentle rise and fall of Gekidō's stomach in his bed as he breathed in his sleep, Yasuke's arm draped over the blankets as he mumbled in dreams. Both oblivious, safe—for now.
But Mahitaro knew the truth. He had to stop the massacre. The cords, the traps, the hidden wires in plain sight, the Ferris wheel, the roller coaster... he had to dismantle it all, piece by piece.
His hands shook as he clenched them into fists. "This... this time, I won't fail. I won't."
Into the Darkness
He slipped from the bed, moving silently through the dim hotel corridors. Every step felt like walking on knives. Each creak of the floorboards made his heart spike. The fear wasn't just of being caught—it was the weight of knowledge, the crushing burden of lives he had already failed.
The lobby was empty. Moonlight slanted through the glass, illuminating the polished floors. Mahitaro crouched low, moving from shadow to shadow. The hotel staff were asleep; the city outside was quiet, unaware of the horror waiting to unfold.
He reached the front desk. A clerk stirred, eyes drooping.
"I... I need to step out for a bit," Mahitaro murmured. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Fresh air."
The clerk nodded, too tired to question him. The door opened. Cold wind hit him like a slap.
Hunting the Traps
Mahitaro's heart pounded as he entered the streets near the amusement park. He crawled under benches, checked railings, and felt along the edges of the rides. His eyes caught the glint of thin wires—tripwires meant to activate deadly mechanisms.
Each discovery twisted the knife in his ribs. The Ferris wheel cord, almost invisible in the shadows, reminded him of Gekidō's lifeless body swinging from it in the last loop. The roller coaster's restraint mechanism—the cord that would snap under strain—was carefully positioned, like a lion lying in wait.
His hands were cut and bruised as he traced the wires, dismantling what he could. Every moment was agony, his mind replaying screams he could not stop.
"Eruto... I swear... I'll stop you this time." He whispered, voice breaking, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I won't let it happen again. I can't... I can't fail anymore."
Memories Haunting Him
The wind carried whispers of past loops. Mahitaro saw flashes of Gekidō's bloodied face, Yasuke's panic, the rain-soaked Ferris wheel, the chaos, the screaming. Each memory hit like a hammer, reminding him of his failures. He vomited onto the asphalt, bile mixing with the wet grime of the streets.
He pressed his hands to the ground, shivering, whispering apologies to the dead. "I... I'll save you... I'll save both of you..."
Approaching the Park
The amusement park gates loomed ahead. Everything was silent. Too silent. The rides were still, the colorful lights off. Mahitaro's stomach churned. He knew what lay ahead—the hidden mechanisms, Eruto's carefully orchestrated traps, the potential for death around every corner.
He moved with extreme caution, scanning for pressure plates, tripwires, and triggers. Each shadow felt alive, each corner potentially deadly. His hands were raw from crawling, his back scraped from concrete, but his resolve did not falter.
The Weight of Knowledge
Mahitaro paused near the roller coaster entrance. His mind ran through every loop, every death, every second he had witnessed. He could almost hear Gekidō's voice, almost see Yasuke's face contorted in terror. Every failure weighed on him like chains.
And yet... in the midst of despair, a flicker of hope remained. If he could dismantle the traps tonight, prevent Eruto from striking, maybe—just maybe—he could save them.
"I... I won't fail again. No matter what." He whispered into the night, a vow that felt heavier than any he had ever made.
The Watcher in the Shadows
Unseen by Mahitaro, a shadow lingered beyond the fences. A faint silhouette with dark green hair and sharp, red contacts. Eruto.
He watched Mahitaro move through the darkness, a quiet smile twisting his lips.
"So... he knows," Eruto whispered, barely audible. "We'll see how far he's willing to go this time."
The night held its breath. The city was quiet, oblivious to the storm about to erupt. Mahitaro did not know he was being observed. But every nerve in his body screamed that danger was near.
The End of the Night
Mahitaro returned to the hotel room before dawn, bruised, cut, and exhausted. Gekidō and Yasuke slept peacefully. For the first time in many loops, they were safe—at least for the night.
Mahitaro collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. The blood, sweat, and dirt from the night clung to his skin. His body ached, but the resolve in his heart burned bright.
He whispered into the dark, into the empty space:
"I will save you. I will... I swear. No matter what it takes."
The city outside remained silent, unaware of the horrors that had almost been avoided—and the ones yet to come.
TO BE CONTINUED...