Zack was lost in thought as he walked through the academy's bustling corridors, his mind still replaying the horrors of the Five Apostles and the inevitable end they brought. The weight of his memories pressed down on him, making his steps heavy and his gaze distant.
Suddenly, a small force collided into him from behind, jolting him out of his reverie.
"Ah, I'm so sorry!"
Zack turned, steadying himself, and froze. There she was.
A girl with short white hair tinged with a faint blue shimmer, her mismatched eyes—a deep blue on one side and a bright cyan on the other—looking up at him with a mixture of embarrassment and concern. She was wearing a neatly tailored blue suit, paired with a small, stylish hat that sat slightly askew from the impact.
It was Yurina, the youngest scion of the prestigious Hydro family.
Zack's chest tightened. He knew her, far better than she could ever imagine. In this life, she was just another student, a junior at the academy and, inevitably, another one of Arthur's heroines. But in his memories, Yurina was so much more.
He had seen her countless times, built bonds with her, fought alongside her. And he had watched her die.
Each death was burned into his mind—the countless ways she had been taken from him: struck down in battle, caught in catastrophes, betrayed, or sacrificed. No matter what Zack did, no matter how hard he tried to save her, Yurina's fate was sealed, just like so many others.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft and melodic, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Before Zack could answer, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Yurina!"
Her older brother, Tyrus, approached swiftly, his broad shoulders and stern expression making him an imposing figure. He was the eldest child of the Hydro family, known for his strict demeanor and fierce protectiveness over his siblings.
"Be more careful," Tyrus scolded, placing a hand on Yurina's shoulder. "You're always so clumsy. What if you got hurt?"
Yurina looked down, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, big brother. I wasn't paying attention."
Tyrus turned his gaze to Zack, his sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly. "And you—" he paused, his expression shifting as he took in Zack's appearance.
Zack could only imagine what he looked like. His unkempt hair hung messily over his forehead, his raccoon-like eyes shadowed with exhaustion, and his slouched posture radiated fatigue.
"Are you... okay?" Yurina asked again, her mismatched eyes filled with genuine concern.
"You don't look well," Tyrus added, his tone less harsh but still firm. "Have you been sleeping at all?"
Zack wanted to laugh at the irony of the question. Sleeping? How could he sleep when his mind was a battlefield of nightmares, when every moment of rest was plagued by memories of death and failure?
For a fleeting second, he thought about telling them everything.
He wanted to spill it all—the agony of watching the people he cared about die, the unbearable weight of his eternal return, the countless lives he had lived and lost. He wanted to scream about the trauma, the despair, the helplessness that consumed him.
But something held him back.
Zack's lips curled into a weak smile, one that didn't reach his tired eyes. "It's nothing," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Doesn't look like nothing," Tyrus muttered, crossing his arms.
"Really," Zack insisted, his smile tightening. "Just... didn't sleep well last night."
Yurina tilted her head, her mismatched eyes studying him curiously. For a moment, Zack wondered if she could see through him, if her latent powers as a memory reader were beginning to awaken. But no—her expression was innocent, untouched by the horrors that awaited her.
"Well, if you ever need someone to talk to," Yurina said, her voice kind, "I'm here."
Zack's heart ached at her sincerity. She had said the same thing before, in a different life, under different circumstances. He wanted to protect that kindness, to shield her from the pain that he knew was coming.
"Thanks," he replied, his voice soft but hollow.
Tyrus gave him one last scrutinizing look before gently tugging Yurina away. "Come on, Yurina. We're going to be late."
As they walked away, Zack stood frozen in place, watching them disappear into the crowd. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
Yurina's smile lingered in his mind, a fragile light in the darkness that consumed him. But he knew that light wouldn't last.
"Not again," Zack whispered to himself, his voice trembling.
But even as he said it, he knew the truth. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he fought, the cycle would repeat. Yurina would die, just like everyone else.
And he would be powerless to stop it.