Chereads / 「星に願いを」 (When You Wish Upon a Star) : Part Ω / Chapter 12 - Third Loop, Chapter 12 : 虚ろな残響 (A Hollow Echo)

Chapter 12 - Third Loop, Chapter 12 : 虚ろな残響 (A Hollow Echo)

The room was dim, bathed in the eerie blue glow of the monitors lining the walls. The steady hum of the power core in the distance filled the silence, an indifferent reminder that life outside these walls continued. That time was still moving forward.

But for me… it had stopped.

I stood motionless, my hands trembling as my gaze fixated on the figure lying on the cold metal table.

Daichi.

Or rather… something that looked like him.

His body was flawless—a perfect reconstruction of the man I had lost. Every detail was there. The faint crescent-shaped scar on his palm, the way his brown hair caught the light, even the gentle arch of his brows. It was as if my hands had molded him from memory, recreating every piece of him with an obsessive precision.

But as my fingers lightly brushed against his hand, a deep, hollow ache settled in my chest. The synthetic skin beneath my touch was warm—so close to real. And yet, it was wrong. It was all wrong.

Because this wasn't him.

A shaky breath left my lips. "Daichi…"

The name barely made it past my throat, thick with grief. My fingers traced the scar on his palm, the one I had so painstakingly replicated.

"You'd laugh at me for this, wouldn't you?" My voice cracked with a bitter smile. "'Izumi, you're being stubborn again.' That's what you'd say."

I could almost hear him. That teasing, exasperated voice of his. The way he'd shake his head at me, amused but affectionate.

My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms. "But I couldn't—" My breath hitched. "I couldn't just let you go."

Silence pressed down on me, suffocating. I pulled a stool closer and sank onto it, my knees buckling under the weight of exhaustion. Elbows resting on the table, I cradled my head in my hands.

"I thought… if I rebuilt you," I whispered. "If I worked hard enough, if I gave up everything… I could bring you back."

My throat tightened.

"But what's the point if it's not really you?"

The words felt like knives, cutting deeper with every syllable. My vision blurred with tears, and I let out a choked, trembling laugh.

"I even gave you your stupid scar," I muttered, my voice hollow. "Do you remember? You cut yourself on that jar trying to impress me with your cooking." My shoulders trembled as I tried to hold in a sob. "You were so bad at it. But you kept trying anyway."

I covered my mouth with my hand, a sob forcing its way out. "I told you I didn't care how it tasted. I just… wanted to be with you." My voice cracked. "But you… you always had to be a hero."

My gaze lifted to his face—calm, perfect, lifeless.

"You're not here," I whispered. "No matter how much I pretend, you're not here."

Tears spilled over, hot and unrelenting. My forehead pressed against his hand, my body shaking as grief wracked through me.

"I'm sorry, Daichi." My voice barely made a sound. "I thought I could fix this. I thought I could fix us."

A broken sob escaped me.

"But I can't."

I stayed there for what felt like an eternity, the weight of my failure pressing down on me. The machines hummed on, uncaring. The cold air of the lab wrapped around me, suffocating in its emptiness.

After what could've been minutes or hours, I sat up, my breath coming in uneven gasps. My eyes were swollen, my throat raw from crying.

"What would you say to me if you were here?" My voice was barely above a whisper. "Would you tell me to stop?"

I exhaled shakily.

"You'd tell me to live, wouldn't you?" My lips curled into a small, humorless smile. "To move forward."

I reached out, hesitating, before brushing my fingers over his cheek. The warmth of his synthetic skin only made my heart ache more.

"But how am I supposed to do that, Daichi?" My voice trembled. "How am I supposed to live in a world without you?"

Silence.

My hands curled into fists at my sides. My breath came out unsteady, but I forced myself to say the words.

"I don't know if I can," I admitted. "But I'll try. For you."

I forced myself to stand, my legs unsteady beneath me. Every step toward the exit felt heavier, like something was pulling me back. I turned one last time, my vision hazy with tears.

"Goodbye, Daichi."

My voice broke.

"I love you."

The door hissed shut behind me, sealing the room in silence once more.

And Daichi's empty shell remained, a perfect echo of the man he once was.

I don't know how long I sat there, curled up in the corner of the lab, my arms wrapped around my knees. My entire body ached with exhaustion, but I didn't dare close my eyes.

Because every time I did, I saw him.

The reconstruction chamber loomed in the center of the room, its soft glow casting long shadows across the metallic floor. The key embedded in Daichi's chest flickered faintly, pulsing like the embers of a dying fire.

Hope was a cruel thing. It kept me here, kept me waiting, even when logic told me to stop.

"I'm a fool…" I whispered hoarsely.

Then—

A sound.

A low, unfamiliar hum.

My eyes snapped open. My heart clenched. That wasn't the machines. That was—

My breath caught in my throat as I turned toward the table.

The key.

The faint blue glow in Daichi's chest was pulsing. Stronger. Brighter.

My pulse pounded in my ears. No. That wasn't possible. That wasn't—

And then, a sharp, ragged breath filled the room.

I froze.

My body refused to move, to breathe, as I watched the impossible unfold.

Daichi's chest rose. Then fell.

A twitch of his fingers. A slow shift of his head.

And then—his eyes fluttered open.

Dark. Familiar. Alive.

"Izumi…?"

A strangled sob tore from my throat. My legs gave out beneath me as I stumbled forward. "Daichi…"

Tears streamed down my face. My hands hovered over him, trembling, terrified.

Was this real? Was this—

His fingers brushed mine. Warm. Real.

"Daichi, you're back." My voice cracked. "You're really back."

His brows furrowed slightly as he looked around, his gaze hazy with confusion. "Izumi… what happened?"

I shook my head, my hands cradling his face as if I could anchor myself to the reality of his presence.

"You're safe," I whispered, my voice trembling. "That's all that matters."

His eyes searched mine. "Why are you crying?"

A broken laugh escaped me. "Because I thought I lost you." My forehead pressed against his. "Because I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

His hand tightened around mine. "You brought me back?"

I nodded, tears falling freely. "I had to." My voice cracked. "I need you."

For a long moment, we just stared at each other. The world outside this room didn't matter.

Only this.

Only him.

His lips curled into a faint, familiar smile. "Stubborn as ever."

A soft, tearful laugh escaped me. "You always said that."

"And I was always right."

I laughed again, my hands trembling as I clung to him.

He was here.

He was real.

And in this moment—nothing else mattered.