Haruka was driving the cycle as usual, and Yume's hand was wrapped around his waist. Haruka was tired; he couldn't concentrate on driving the cycle, and he wasn't blushing when Yume's hand was wrapped around his waist. He was afraid he would get out of sync once again. He keeps driving, and then he feels something weird in his eyes. It was tingling. As if he could control the tingling, but then again, it stopped.
Yume was worried about Haruka, so she decided to ask her out.
Yume: "What is going on, huh? You seem so worried."
Haruka replied immediately.
Haruka: "Oh... I was just thinking of something... nothing important."
Yume with a concerned look, but understanding too.
Yume: "Uh huh... Sure... whatever you say, Mr. Philosopher."
Haruka, who got caught off guard with Yume's nickname for him, replies immediately.
Haruka: "H-huh? Mr. Philosopher?"
Yume replies with a chuckle.
Yune: "Well, you look like one when you are thinking."
The playful banter and chat were going fine. Haruka temporarily forgot about that moment. He dropped Yume off at her place, and he started to drive his way back to his house.
He enters, as usual, greets Jack, and goes to his room.
After a shower, he had lunch and then lay on his bed.
He lay on the bed and started to think. He was worried about everything. "Atience P.", "Rideous P.", and today's incident.
He remembers how much he hates himself, despite all of it, he has some precious friends and a person he loves. But still again, some students misunderstand them. Death sounds painful, but compared to being misunderstood, not being noticed, and being praised despite being the walking corpse of my own intentions, it almost feels like mercy. But it doesn't matter; no one cares if those students care about him or not.
Nowadays, he was depressed, but he was trying to avoid it.
"Even if I wasn't trying this hard not to show, will they know or not?" He thought to himself.
He was arranging his face into the shape they expected, and they praised his steadiness while the part of him that once begged to be seen quietly drowned behind the performance.
In the eyes of others, he appeared to be moving forward, but he was only circling the same invisible cage, and the more quietly he did it, the more convinced they became that the cage never existed.
What was bothering him? He doesn't know the answer either. Maybe he does know it. Yes, the incidents that were happening these days.
Haruka stared at the ceiling.
The fan rotated slowly.
Round and round.
Like him.
Same thoughts. Same cage.
He closed his eyes.
For once, he didn't want to think about dimensions. Or teachers. Or bells.
Just silence.
Just darkness.
But the darkness didn't stay empty.
It tingled again.
That same feeling from earlier.
Behind his eyes.
Like something pressing against them from the inside.
He opened them quickly.
His room was normal.
Door closed.
Curtains slightly moving from the evening wind.
Desk.
Books.
Clock.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
He blinked.
The ticking stopped.
Not physically.
But mentally.
The sound stretched.
Tick-
Longer than it should be.
He sat up.
The air felt thick.
He looked at his hand.
For half a second longer,
It moved before he did.
Not transparent.
Not blue.
Solid.
But slightly delayed.
Like input lag.
He froze.
His fingers curled.
Then uncurled.
He hadn't commanded them yet.
His breathing quickened.
"No…"
He whispered.
This wasn't the classroom.
This wasn't a prediction.
This wasn't seeing ahead.
This was control slipping.
He stood up from the bed too fast.
The room tilted slightly.
Then stabilized.
He walked toward the mirror.
Slowly.
Each step felt like stepping into water.
Heavy.
Muted.
He stood in front of his reflection.
It looked normal.
Tired eyes.
Damp hair from the shower.
Same Haruka.
He raised his hand.
The reflection copied him.
Good.
Normal.
He lowered it.
The reflection didn't.
It stayed raised.
Just for a second.
One second too long.
Then it slowly lowered.
Matching him again.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
"Stop."
He didn't know who he was talking to.
Himself?
The mirror?
The thing behind the seconds?
His phone buzzed.
He flinched so hard he almost stumbled.
Reality snapped back into place.
The mirror was normal.
Everything normal.
The buzzing continued.
Yume.
Message:
"Mr. Philosopher still thinking?"
He stared at it.
His chest tightened... but not from fear.
From something warm.
Grounding.
He typed back:
"Maybe."
Three dots appeared instantly.
She was typing.
He felt it again.
That whisper.
Soft.
Ahead of time.
He heard her message before it arrived.
"Don't overthink alone."
The notification popped up a second later.
Same words.
He swallowed.
This time…
He didn't feel scared.
He felt something else.
If he could hear the future—
Then maybe…
He could hold onto it.
Maybe he wasn't drifting away from everyone.
Maybe he was just…
Standing slightly ahead.
He typed:
"Hey."
She replied almost immediately:
"Yeah?"
His fingers hesitated.
Then:
"Thanks for staying."
There was a pause this time.
Longer than usual.
No whisper.
No preview.
Just waiting...
There again, the strange tingling behind his eyes. The blue vision... his right eye... He immediately closed it and rubbed it.
But then he realized he could see normally with his left eye, but the right eye...it was seeing blue...a bit ahead of time.
He went to the basin and put water in his eyes.
The moment he stared into the mirror...
He was stunned, because his right eye was glowing a bit blue inside...and the more it tingled, the more it glowed.
There again, the more it glowed, the more it tingled.
Suddenly, it felt as if something was kicking inside. Ticking? or Kicking? A weird feeling
He could sense it.
"God, what... is wrong?" he asked himself as I was hoping it would slow down.
It slowed down.
Wait... it reduced...
He... controlled it?. The blue didn't fade away, but the prediction reduced.
He tried to reduce it more... how? he doesn't know.
The blue faded slowly, and the prediction stopped.
He was surprised... His breathing was heavy.
"Wait...I can... use it..." He wondered to himself as he couldn't help but smile for some reason. He was happy that he could control it... Was it a cool superpower? He asked himself.