Part 1
"Ahh.... What am I even waiting for...." I muttered to myself, my gaze locked onto the pocket watch held tightly in my hand.
The rhythmic ticking had become an indelible presence, echoing relentlessly for the past twenty minutes.
Its insistent sound permeated the air, an unwavering reminder of the passage of time.
Even my attempt to muffle the sound by covering my ears proved futile; the persistent ticking continued to fill the void.
The watch's relentless rhythm had woven itself into my consciousness, an inescapable pattern etched into my thoughts.
"XXXX!!! XXXXXXX!!!!!! XXXXX!!!!!"
"Argh!??..."
The nonsensical voices intruded once again, this time resonating with a force that felt like it could shatter my eardrums.
Yet, strangely, as the volume escalated, my ears remained impervious to the anticipated pain.
An odd numbness enveloped my senses, almost as if a protective shield had formed, allowing me to withstand the auditory assault without the agony I had anticipated.
"XXXX! XXXxxxx..."
Thankfully, the voices began to recede, their intensity waning gradually.
"I need to test this...."
Curiosity mingled with caution as I swiftly raised my hand and directed it towards my chest with force.
To my astonishment, the impact that should have elicited excruciating pain instead registered as a void of sensation.
It was as if the normal rules governing pain and physicality had been suspended within this enigmatic realm.
The revelation left me feeling even more disoriented, as the boundaries of reality continued to blur and defy logical explanation.
Shifting my focus seemed to be a logical step. Perhaps occupying my mind with different thoughts could provide a temporary respite.
What was Sakura on the brink of revealing to me?
This recurring pattern—her attempts to convey something significant, only to be silenced—had become increasingly apparent.
Ever since Friday, her behavior had undergone a noticeable shift.
Her actions, her interactions—they all conveyed a strange resonance within my heart.
Throughout our friendship, the idea of her in a different light hadn't crossed my mind.
My thoughts were usually consumed by other matters, often tethered to past experiences I fervently wished to undo.
And perhaps, it was this very tendency that led me to be ensnared by the enigma of this pocket watch.
Its allure lies in the power to rectify the weight of accumulated regrets.
In recent times, my perception of people, particularly of the opposite sex, has undergone a transformation.
"Sakura...."
I've become increasingly aware of the need for caution.
Protecting others, especially her, from being entangled in this unpredictable situation has become paramount.
Part 2
Thirty minutes, forty-five minutes, an hour, two hours...
Amidst the all-encompassing emptiness, time itself seems to have abandoned this place.
The persistent companion is the enigmatic ticking of the clock, a sound stretching out indefinitely.
Its continuous resonance has become wearisome, a relentless reminder of the passage of time.
"Please... Someone..."
Do I find myself regretting my decision?
In my past experiences, regret has always caught up to me eventually. Considering the pattern, it should have cast its shadow on me by now.
But... No...
Since I came into possession of this watch, a peculiar sensation has accompanied me—a feeling spurred by the mere concept it represents: the power to rewrite the past.
This opportunity is too precious to squander.
However, who would willingly endure the confinement of an endless void each time the watch is used? The solitude it brings is a burden no one would willingly embrace.
Yet, here I remain, entrapped in this void for about three hours now.
Part 3
Silence hung heavily, an impenetrable shroud wrapping around me in the void.
And then, a faint murmur—barely audible, like a distant echo—pierced through the stillness.
"...huh?...!"
Startled, I strained my ears to catch the elusive sound.
The voice seemed to drift from a distance, its origin impossible to pinpoint within the disorienting expanse.
"...! Argh!"
A sharp exclamation tore from my lips as the surroundings shifted abruptly, morphing with a disorienting speed that defied comprehension.
My eyes squeezed shut instinctively, a feeble attempt to shield myself from the bewildering transformation.
When I finally dared to open my eyes once more, it took several seconds for them to adjust to the sudden influx of light. It was as if I had been plunged from darkness into brightness, leaving my vision momentarily impaired by the stark contrast.
"Excuse me, fine sir--"
"--AH!"
The unexpected impact from behind jolted me, my body tensing in surprise.
I turned to face the source of the collision, only to be greeted by a sight that left me utterly taken aback.
"C-cosplay?"
My words faltered as I struggled to process the incongruous scene before me. The individual I had bumped into was adorned in attire reminiscent of a bygone era, akin to something one might encounter in an early 1900s movie.
The sheer peculiarity of the situation left me momentarily lost for words.
"What word is that, my good sir? Pray, pardon my intrusion, but I do hope you are enjoying a splendid day..."
With an air of formality that seemed plucked from the early 1900s, his words carried an almost theatrical weight.
He promptly moved alongside me, maintaining a brisk, purposeful pace.
Before long, the peculiarities continued to unfold, as more individuals in the vicinity seemed to bump into me, each behaving in an inexplicably eccentric manner.
As my vision gradually readjusted, I found myself immersed.
Cobblestone streets stretched out beneath my feet, worn smooth by the countless footsteps that had traversed them.
Gas lamps adorned the thoroughfare, casting a warm and flickering glow that illuminated the scene with a nostalgic charm.
The buildings that lined the street bore intricate architectural details, their facades adorned with ornate carvings and quaint shop signs that swung gently in the breeze.
Well-dressed pedestrians strolled along the walkways, their attire and demeanor evoking the refined elegance of a time long past.
Men donned suits with waistcoats, top hats perched atop their heads, while women sported long dresses and elegant bonnets.
The clatter of horse-drawn carriages resounded in the distance, intermingling with the hum of conversations and the distant cries of street vendors.
"Eh...?!"
I cast a bewildered gaze at my empty hands, a sudden rush of realization flooding over me.
The pocket watch—the very artifact that had been my constant companion—was conspicuously absent.
Frantically, I embarked on a hasty search, my hands patting down every inch of my clothing in a desperate attempt to locate the precious timepiece. My heart raced with growing anxiety as my fingers found no trace of the watch.
"Did I drop it?"
Panic tightened its grip around my chest, threatening to suffocate me. My eyes darted around the bustling scene, the throngs of people moving in a blur of fast-paced activity.
In the midst of this chaotic dance of strangers, I struggled to discern any sign of the elusive pocket watch.
The ground beneath my feet became a treasure trove of potential hiding places, every nook and cranny scrutinized for any glint of metal or shimmer of the watch's chain.
Amidst the hustle and bustle, the seconds ticked away with an urgency that mirrored the pounding of my heart.
Looks like I've been hurled way back in time.
"Hmm..."
Chillin' on a bench nearby, it dawns on me.
Is the length of my time in that void... linked to how far back I end up?
Seems like it might just work that way.
But, wait up, how the heck do I get back...!??
"Ugh..."
The more it sinks in, the more the panic creeps up.
No turning back from this point on.
"*Sigh*"
"Hmm...?"
I release a hefty exhale, feeling the fatigue start to settle in. But it seems like I'm catching some eyes here.
Given my getup, I'm sticking out like a sore thumb.
"Excuse me..."
I swiftly get back on my feet and start strolling, any direction's a good bet.