Part 1
"I am just a normal person.
Experiencing all the emotions one would expect.
Surprised by things that pique my interest.
Feeling sadness in uneasy situations.
Getting angry, whether it's personal or universally felt.
Facing fears I'd rather avoid.
And carrying the weight of guilt for memories that haunt me.
I believe everyone shares these feelings.
We all have things we wish to hide away, never to be remembered again, or moments we wish we could redo – an impossible feat.
No one can change the past.
No magical fix exists to ensure a perfect, happy ending; that would be too unrealistic.
That's why the events that do happen are crucial in shaping who we become.
Consider this: the very thing that once pushed you to the edge or tempted you to grasp a kitchen knife will ultimately leave you with a life lesson: 'Never do 'that' ever again.'
Even if you could change the past and undo those moments, would you forget to be cautious about the same problem again?
Unless you retained the memories, now altered, from that very moment. That would be the perfect power, if you ask me."
"Hiroki, your essay... When did you learn to write like this?"
"Teacher, didn't you encourage us to write freely? I don't see any issue in expressing myself this way."
"Oh, no, I meant that as a compliment."
"Huh?"
"I mean, most of your classmates wrote about trivial topics, and they lacked that sense of intrigue. I intended to teach all of you to write from the heart. Would you consider joining the school's writing club?"
"Ah, thank you, teacher, but I don't plan on pursuing that path, at least for now."
"Really?! What a missed opportunity... Anyway, I apologize for bothering you at this hour. You're free to go now, Hiroki."
"Thank you, teacher..."
The school week had begun just a week ago, yet already one of my teachers was commending my writing.
Sure, I could have embraced the chance to experience something new by joining the writing club, but that's not what my heart truly desires, unfortunately.
What I yearn for lies beyond the confines of the classroom.
What I long for is something entirely different.
What I crave is a reality that seems unattainable in today's world.
A life without regrets; a chance to undo every past decision.
These desires clash with what I expressed in my essay, but I can't escape the memories I wish to erase from my mind.
I came to a sudden halt, realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.
I reached into my left pocket, and my heart sank as I realized it was empty.
"Shit, my phone!"
Without a moment's hesitation, I turned around and sprinted back towards the school.
The school building seemed much farther now, and a sense of unease gnawed at me, fearing the possibility that it might already be closed.
Nevertheless, I pushed forward, my breath growing heavy with each step.
"Pwahh! Ha, ha, ha..."
I must confess; I'm far from the athletic type.
Sure, I maintain a healthy lifestyle with proper diet and regular sleep, but during P.E. classes, I was always the one the teacher would say, "You can take a break, go sit on the bench."
But I wasn't about to give up. I pushed myself back onto my feet and continued running.
I might not excel in athleticism, but I don't give up easily.
"Hey, watch where you're going, kid!"
"Oh! Sorry!"
I glanced back briefly, but then pressed on, knowing I couldn't afford to waste time.
Finally, I reached the main gate of the school.
But my heart sank as I realized that the gate was locked.
I tried improvising by using something small and thin, like a toothpick, to pick the lock, but it proved to be a futile effort.
Climbing over the fences was also out of the question. This wasn't just any school; it was a national high school, equipped with advanced security measures.
"Well, I guess I'll have to head back home," I sighed, feeling defeated. "Tomorrow is still Friday."
I started walking back towards the bus terminal, which now seemed even farther away.
(Why did I have to be so careless, Hiroki...)
After walking for about five minutes, something caught my attention.
I found myself standing in front of an antique shop, the sense of déjà vu overwhelming.
The door creaked as I pushed it open, revealing an interior that was both mysterious and fascinating. The shop was adorned with various objects.
As I stepped inside, I was struck by the enigmatic atmosphere that surrounded me.
The air felt heavy with history, as if it held whispers of the past.
The walls were adorned with old paintings, and the shelves held a diverse array of intriguing artifacts, from vintage books to intricate jewelry.
In the heart of the shop, there stood a lone man behind the counter, facing towards the entrance.
He exuded an air of serenity, and his eyes seemed to hold untold stories.
Without turning to face me, he greeted warmly, "Good afternoon. Feel free to explore and find what interests you."
I hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the surreal ambiance, but his words encouraged me to delve deeper into the shop.
I wandered through narrow aisles, my attention captured by the unique items that seemed to have stories of their own.
Time seemed to stretch as I lost myself in the historical charm of the place.
Among the various intriguing objects, one in particular caught my eye—a pocket watch.
It boasted an exquisite design, unlike anything I had ever seen before, and it emitted a soft, subtle light, making it even more captivating.
Its allure was irresistible, and as I held it in my hands, an indescribable sensation washed over me, compelling me to make it mine.
"Excuse me," I finally mustered, approaching the man at the counter. "I'd like to purchase this pocket watch, please."
He turned towards me, his gaze meeting mine, and with a knowing smile, he said, "Ah, the pocket watch has found its way to you. An excellent choice."
Despite my internal uncertainty, I nodded and completed the purchase. As I left the shop, the man bid me farewell, "Thank you for your purchase. Have a splendid day."
Walking away with the pocket watch in hand, I felt an inexplicable connection to the mysterious artifact.
It was as if it held some hidden power, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was meant for me.
Back at home, I examined the pocket watch more closely, marveling at its intricate craftsmanship.
It seemed to emit a faint glow, like a beacon guiding me through the labyrinth of uncertainties in my life.
As the evening settled in and night took over, I decided to set the watch's hands to the current time and wound it gently. To my amazement, the watch started ticking with a gentle rhythm, and the hands moved elegantly across its face.
"Wait... Why did I even buy this?"
I had never been one to purchase such items, so why did I feel so drawn to it?
There was an inexplicable feeling hanging in the air.
I scrutinized the watch once more, and to my surprise, it emitted a
brief flicker of light.
"Woah—huh?"
It flickered four more times before suddenly stopping.
Curiously, I hadn't even pressed any buttons to trigger this phenomenon.
It was as if the pocket watch had a life of its own.
"Well, I suppose it's time for bed."
I settled into bed and, rather peculiarly, drifted off to sleep faster than usual.
When I woke up, my first instinct was to check the time on my phone.
"Huh!?"
Strangely, the date displayed was from yesterday.
5:13, 01/09/23
I couldn't recall ever changing my phone's settings; it was profoundly unsettling.
"Breakfast is ready, everyone!"
My mother's voice echoed through the house. She was always the first to rise, busily preparing breakfast.
"Déjà vu..."
Part 2
The feeling of unease hung over me as everything felt... 'Odd.'
Today's events were unfolding in a way that was exactly the same as yesterday's, as if time were replaying itself with unsettling precision, and it was all meant to have occurred to me 'Yesterday.'
I couldn't shake the peculiar sensation that I had entered some sort of loop, trapped in a time warp where reality and fiction blurred.
Throughout the day, the events unfolded in an uncanny mirror of yesterday's happenings.
From the moment I woke up to the time I checked my phone, everything seemed to be playing out with an eerie sense of déjà vu, as if time itself was caught in a loop and I was the only one aware of it.
The unease I felt remained, and the impression of being caught in a time loop persisted, as if the universe were replaying a meticulously rehearsed script exclusively for me.
Each action I took, every word spoken by others, all seemed scripted, as if the cosmos were acting out a well-practiced performance just for my benefit.
In class, my teacher called me over after school to discuss my essay...
Again...
As I walked into the room, a sense of déjà vu washed over me, and a chill ran down my spine. It was as if I had walked this path countless times before.
"Hiroki, your essay..." my teacher began, his voice distant and surreal. "When did you learn to write like this?"
"Teacher, didn't you encourage us to write freely? I don't see any issue in expressing myself this way," I responded, my words echoing my previous encounter.
He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, no, I meant that as a compliment."
"Huh?"
"I mean, most of your classmates wrote about trivial topics, and they lacked that sense of intrigue. I intended to teach all of you to write from the heart. Would you consider joining the school's writing club?"
"Ah, thank you, teacher, but I don't plan on pursuing that path, at least for now."
"Really?! What a missed opportunity..." his voice trailed off, almost as if I could predict his words.
After the meeting, a sudden realization struck me: I had left my phone behind in the teacher's office. Without wasting any time, I turned back and hastened my steps towards the room.
As I pushed open the door, the occupants inside briefly glanced at me before resuming their activities.
"What's the matter, Hiroki?" my teacher asked.
"Oh, nothing, teacher. I just realized I left my phone somewhere in here," I replied, trying to sound casual.
He nodded, understanding, and rifled through his desk before finding my phone.
"Is this it?" he inquired, holding up the device.
"Yes, thank you, teacher," I said, relief washing over me as I retrieved my phone.
Approaching the antique shop once again, my heart beat with anticipation and a hint of trepidation. The familiar chime sounded as I entered, and the mysterious man greeted me warmly, as though he had been expecting me.
"Back again, young one?" he said, a knowing gleam in his eyes.
"Yes," I replied tentatively. "I need to ask you something. Yesterday, I bought a pocket watch here. I feel like... something strange is happening to me. Can you explain?"
The man's enigmatic smile grew wider. "Ah, so you've realized it, have you? That pocket watch is no ordinary trinket. It possesses the power to manipulate time itself."
"Time manipulation?" I gasped, my mind racing at the revelation.
In a sudden surge of energy, the pocket watch glowed brightly.
And then, everything went dark.