12:00 AM.
—DAY RESET.—
But this time… something was different.
Asahi's eyes opened.
Slow. Deliberate.
And unmistakably awake.
He lay there, unmoving, staring blankly at the ceiling. His breaths shallow. His jaw clenched. His limbs refused to move—not out of sleep, but dread.
But he moved anyway.
Stiff. Robotic.
His arm reached toward the drawer beside his bed and slid it open.
Inside—
A white eyepatch.
He wrapped it around his left eye without hesitation. No mirror. No ceremony. Just muscle memory.
His right eye, bloodshot and void of light, stared into nothing.
He rose.
Each step down the stairs felt like dragging a mountain behind him.
In the bathroom, his reflection greeted him—dead-eyed, pale, ruined. His skin hung from his face like it had forgotten how to live. His lips were dry. His hair looked like it had been through a storm. He pitied what he saw in the mirror.
But said nothing.
He brushed his teeth.
Routine.
Nothing more.
Then—
The hallway.
His mother stood just outside the bathroom, startled by the sudden presence behind her.
"Asahi—?"
He bolted past.
So fast, she didn't even turn her head in time.
"Huh…? What was that…?"
She blinked.
Confused.
In the living room, Asahi stood still, staring at his hands. The veins throbbed. His chest rose and fell too quickly. His heart was pounding in his ears. Everything felt too loud.
Then—
A fly.
Buzzing.
Tiny.
It zipped past his ear.
His eye twitched.
He could see it.
Track it.
In slow motion.
His fingers sliced through the air.
Snap.
The fly died between two fingers.
He blinked once.
No emotion.
Then turned, walked back upstairs.
Changed clothes. Buttoned his uniform. Slipped on his shoes.
Not a single word.
Not a single thought.
He opened the front door and stepped out like a ghost.
The early morning light painted him in a pale hue. People on the street turned as he passed.
"Who is that…?"
"Wait—is that Asahi?"
"He looks… scary."
"Nah… kinda hot," a girl murmured, cheeks flushing.
He didn't hear them.
Didn't care.
He just walked.
Until—
"Asah—!"
Anari's voice came from behind.
As always, she raised her arm to smack the back of his head like she did every morning.
But this time—
Pain.
A white-hot bolt surged through his left eye under the patch.
He ducked.
Too fast.
Too smooth.
Anari's arm sliced through empty air.
He was already behind her.
"Next time," he whispered coldly, "try harder."
"Wha—AHH! What the hell?!"
She spun, eyes wide, shaken.
But Asahi was already walking away.
Silent. Emotionless.
"Asahi… hey! What was that?! How did you do that?!"
No reply.
They reached the school gates.
Whispers followed them like shadows.
"Who's that?"
"Is it a transfer student?"
"No way… that's Asahi?"
Anari furrowed her brows. "Why is everyone staring like that…?"
Asahi stopped mid-step. Slowly turned to face her.
"Do I seem… normal to you?" he asked, voice almost broken.
She stared. Confused.
"You always look like this…"
His pupils dilated.
Timelines. Memories. Loops. Screams. Pain.
Fragments of lives flashed through his brain.
Then—
The bell rang.
Anari grabbed his hand.
"C'mon! Let's go!"
The classroom welcomed them with silence.
Too quiet.
Too off.
Third period.
The door slammed open.
"Homeroom teacher's out sick! You've got PTE!"
"YAAAAY!!"
Cheers exploded.
Asahi didn't move.
His mind spiraled.
"Sick…? That's not right. This didn't happen last time… This timeline is off."
He stood.
"I need to confirm something."
He turned to leave.
But—
"Hey, Asahi!"
Five boys stepped in his path.
The usual ones.
The bullies.
"Yo. You look like you wanna play something," one smirked.
"Not now," Asahi said calmly. "Please move."
"Huh? What's with the tone?" another sneered.
"Still the same pathetic freak?"
His left eye twitched.
Behind the patch—it burned.
Asahi's voice dropped. Cold. Controlled.
"Move. Now."
The leader laughed. "We're just trying to be friendly. C'mon. For old times' sake."
"Shut the f*ck up," Anari snapped behind him. "Back off."
"Damn, this bitch's got claws."
"Let's play our usual game, huh?" another grinned. "Winner gets the girl."
"Accepted," Asahi said softly.
That one word silenced the room.
His smile stretched slowly.
Predatory.
"One-on-one. No interference. Until surrender."
"And what if you can't speak after?" one laughed.
"Asahi—don't!" Anari stepped in front of him. "They're dirty! They fight to hurt!"
Asahi removed his shirt.
Every movement—calm.
Deliberate.
Muscle. Vein. Power.
His torso looked sculpted from steel.
Glowing red leaked through his exposed right eye.
The patch steamed.
The bullies hesitated.
For the first time—they feared.
"No rules," Asahi said. "All of you at once."
"Let's fight until someone dies."
Silence.
Then—
"RAAAAH!!!"
One of the boys screamed and charged.
The others followed.
But Asahi—
Saw them all.
In slow motion.
He stepped forward with a grin that didn't belong to a boy.
It belonged to a monster.