After the last bell rang, Makoto and Saiki walked together in silence, the usual easy rhythm between them replaced by a tense awkwardness.
Finally, Makoto broke the silence. "Let's talk. At my place."
Saiki glanced at him, searching his expression. There was something vulnerable there—something rare. He nodded.
"Okay."
They headed off together, the fading afternoon sun casting long shadows behind them.
The walk to Makoto's house was unusually quiet. Neither of them spoke, footsteps echoing softly against the pavement. The air between them felt heavy—thick with unsaid words and lingering tension.
Saiki kept his gaze ahead. He didn't need to look at Makoto to know the boy's thoughts were spinning—he could hear them loud and clear. But for once, he didn't interrupt. He let the silence settle, not because he was uncomfortable, but because he was waiting—for Makoto to find his own words.
Makoto, for his part, looked like he'd been through several emotional tornadoes. His shoulders were tense, hands clenched in the pockets of his jacket. Saiki glanced sideways just once. Despite everything, he felt it—the pull again. That annoying, irrational, unwanted flutter of affection.
Finally, they reached the familiar gate to Makoto's house. Makoto paused.
"Thanks for coming," he said, voice quieter than usual.
Saiki gave a short nod. "We need to talk."
Once inside, the quiet of Makoto's room wrapped around them like a thick blanket. Neither moved for a long moment.
Saiki finally spoke, voice even and calm. "We've both been hiding things from each other."
Makoto's lips parted slightly before he gave a slow nod. "I know."
They sat on the edge of his bed, the silence stretching. Saiki could feel Makoto's heartbeat like a distant thrum in the back of his mind.
Then, Makoto said, "I guess it's time I tell you the truth."
Saiki didn't respond. He just waited.
"There's something called a system," Makoto said, glancing at him. "It's like… my guide. I never told you because I was scared you'd think I'm crazy. And also... I didn't even know if I was allowed to."
He let out a breath. "I'm not the real Makoto Teruhashi. I'm an alternate version. In my original world… I got sick. I died."
Saiki's face remained unreadable, but inside, he felt something shift. Not shock, not disbelief—just clarity.
"I ended up here," Makoto continued. "In this life. In this body. It's been terrifying. I didn't know how much of me was real anymore. But meeting you..."
"I never thought I'd be able to say any of this out loud. Not to anyone." Makoto's voice trembled slightly as he finished. The room settled into silence, tense and uncertain—like something fragile waiting to be dropped.
Saiki sat across from him, arms folded, his expression unreadable. But his silence wasn't cold. It felt like waiting. Thinking.
"…I didn't expect that," he said finally. His voice was quiet, even. "But… it makes sense."
Makoto blinked. "What do you mean?"
Saiki exhaled through his nose, glancing away. "I've had my suspicions about you for a while now. I just didn't know what they meant."
Makoto tensed. "Suspicions?"
"You were different. Right from the start." His gaze flicked back to Makoto, unreadable. "Everyone else thought it was just you trying to live a normal life. A phase, maybe. But even then... something felt off. The way you talked. The way you thought. How you reacted to people. It didn't match your previous personality."
Makoto froze.
Saiki continued, voice low and calm. "You didn't feel like the same person. Not completely. And I hear people's thoughts—so I noticed when yours stopped matching what I'd expect."
Makoto stared at him. "Wait… you hear people's thoughts?"
Saiki nodded. "I'm a psychic."
Makoto blinked, then threw on a show of exaggerated surprise, eyes wide as if just learning this fact. "Like, full-on psychic? Mind reading?"
The system's voice buzzed sharply in his head
[System: You're acting like you didn't just remember he can read minds.]
Saiki nodded again, like he was stating the obvious.
"And… telekinesis. Teleportation. Some time manipulation. Among other things."
Makoto's mouth fell open, putting on mocked awe. "That's… okay, wow. Okay. Okay."
Then, as if the shock suddenly hit him for real, his eyes widened in horror—realization crashing in all at once.
"Wait. So I didn't even confess out loud? You read my mind?!"
Saiki gave a small nod. "Technically. You once thought, 'What if he finds out I like him.' That was enough."
Makoto groaned and buried his face in his hands. "This is the most humiliating day of my life."
"You'll live."
Makoto peeked at him through his fingers. "So… all this time, you were just letting me flail around like an idiot?"
Saiki's expression stayed calm, unreadable. "I didn't think it would be productive to interrupt your inner crisis."
Makoto flopped back on the bed with a groan. "I knew I should've just thought about math every time I looked at you."
A faint smirk tugged at Saiki's lips. "Didn't matter. I've heard you say 'oh wow' enough times when we first met."
Makoto huffed, face still burning. "Great. So I've been mentally naked this whole time."
Saiki didn't respond right away. His gaze drifted slightly, thoughtful now.
"I didn't want to jump to conclusions," he said after a moment, quieter. "You were different, yes—but it wasn't malicious. Just… strange." His eyes found Makoto's again. "I thought you might've hit your head."
Makoto snorted softly. "Honestly, not far off."
"But then…" Saiki's tone shifted—lower, more serious. "There's something else."
Makoto sat up slightly, watching him.
Saiki's brow furrowed as if sorting through something he hadn't said aloud before.
Makoto tilted his head. "What?"
Saiki hesitated, then said, "There's going to be an earthquake. Soon. A bad one."
Makoto blinked. "Wait—what? What does that have to do with—?"
"I've seen it before. The same earthquake has happened in three different timelines."
Makoto's stomach dropped.
"You turned back time?"
Saiki nodded. "To stop the damage. But no matter how far I rewound, things kept spiraling out of control. The school, the city… It took everything I had to reset it cleanly."
Makoto was silent, barely breathing.
"In all those timelines," Saiki said, his eyes narrowing slightly, "you were still Makoto Teruhashi. Or so I thought. But you weren't like this."
Makoto's eyes widened.
"This timeline," Saiki continued, "was different. You were different. From the beginning. You were sincere. You were unpredictable. You didn't act like a spoiled celebrity—at least, not convincingly."
Makoto blinked hard.
"I didn't know why. I still don't. But I knew you weren't the same person I'd met before. Something changed in this timeline—and only this one."
Makoto looked down at his hands, his voice soft. "And… you never asked me about it?"
"I couldn't prove anything. And…" Saiki trailed off. "I didn't want to lose whatever version of you this was."
That made Makoto look up.
Saiki met his eyes, calm but sincere. "You were happier. Calmer. And you… kept looking at me like you already loved me."
Makoto stared, breath caught in his throat.
"I thought maybe I was just seeing things," Saiki added, softer now. "But even I can't lie to myself forever."
Makoto didn't answer right away. The silence between them shifted—warmer now, softer. Full of all the things they'd never been able to say until now.
"…You weren't wrong," Makoto finally said, his voice quiet. "About me being different. I'm not the Makoto you knew."
He gave a small smile, more bittersweet than triumphant. "I'm not even from this world."
Saiki didn't flinch.
Makoto exhaled shakily. "But I meant everything. Every stupid thought you read. Every look. Every kiss I wanted. That was me."
"I know," Saiki said.
They sat in the quiet again, but this time it didn't feel fragile.
Makoto leaned forward, lips twitching into a half-grin. "So… you still want to kiss the mysterious version of me?"
Saiki looked at him flatly. "Unfortunately."
Makoto beamed. "Then I'll take that as a yes."
Without waiting for permission, he moved closer—eyes gleaming, just enough hesitation to make sure Saiki wouldn't push him away.
He didn't.
Their lips met quietly, gently—like two pieces finally clicking into place.
When they pulled back, Makoto whispered, "Guess this timeline isn't so bad after all."
Saiki sighed. "We'll see. If we survive the earthquake."
Makoto's smile didn't fade. "With you around? I think we've got a chance."