The bus hissed to a stop. My heart thumped as I stepped down onto the pavement, my shoes pressing against the cold concrete. The air smelled faintly of smoke and morning bread from a nearby bakery.
I tightened the strap of my bag and began walking toward the office. Every step felt heavy, as if I was marching into the past with full awareness of the future.
And then—
There it is.
A teenage boy sped toward me on a cycle, his mouth wide open in laughter, his friend chasing behind him. I remembered this scene perfectly.
The crash. The humiliation. The torn clothes.
But this time—
I sidestepped.
The tire brushed past me, missing me by inches. The teenager cursed, wobbling for a moment, before zooming off down the road.
My breath caught in my chest.
"I did it…" I whispered.
The first big change. Something small, yet massive. The domino had fallen in a different direction.
I kept walking, a strange mix of excitement and fear bubbling in me.
But then—
"Kenji, stop."
I froze.
The voice came out of nowhere. It was inside my head, but not mine.
I spun around, staring at the empty street. "Huh? Who's there?"
Again. The same voice. Calm. Cold. Familiar.
"Kenji, stop. It's me."
My stomach tightened. "Me who? Where are you?"
A pause. Then—
"I'm inside you. Don't you remember… Kenji2?"
The words dropped like ice water down my spine.
I stumbled backward. "What—what the hell? Kenji2? No, no, no… that's impossible. You were— You were…"
The voice chuckled darkly. "I stole from a bank for you. I cleaned your filthy apartment. I did your office work while you daydreamed. I made you stronger."
My lips trembled. "Yeah… I… I remember all that. But… where are you? What do you mean inside?"
"Yes, inside. I can see through your eyes. I can feel through your body. You and I—we're no longer separate."
I shook my head violently, clutching my temples. "No, no, no, this doesn't make sense. How? Why?"
The voice ignored my panic. "This form isn't good enough. Let me change it."
"Wait—what?! No change! Stop it! Hey, wait!"
But before I could scream louder, something flickered in front of me.
A glowing, hologram-like screen materialized in midair.
My breath hitched as my eyes darted across the words written in bold letters:
SYSTEM FOR KENJI THE LOSER
Below it, a list appeared:
Synchronization: 1%
Age: 25
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 50 kg
Bank Balance: 20,000 yen
Health Status: Very Poor
D Size: 5 inches (erect)
Intelligence: 2
Strength: 1.5
Stamina: 1
Senses: 0.5
Speed: 0.5
Emotional Stability: Very Poor
I blinked hard, rubbed my eyes, but the screen stayed there, glowing faintly, humming like a ghost.
My jaw dropped. "HUUUUUUHHHHHHHHH… WHHHAAAAAATTTTTTTT?!?!"
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.
(LOOK AT THIS LOSER CRYING.)
"Shut up! SHUT UP!" I screamed inside my head. My hands trembled, my breathing ragged.
What even is this? A system? Some kind of novel-like screen floating in front of me? No, no, no you killed Emi ... I thought I was finally free from you. I thought after I jumped, I'd be alone. But now—this!
(HEY. LISTEN. I DIDN'T KILL EMI.)
"What... what did you just say?" I froze mid-step, ignoring the stares of strangers brushing past me on the street.
(I DIDN'T KILL HER. IN FACT... YOU KILLED ME—when you jumped off that cliff. You ended it. Lucky for you, I managed to reverse time as much as I could.)
My heart stopped. "You... reversed time? You mean... all of this... is because of you?"
(YES. I PULLED YOU BACK. THIS ISN'T A DREAM. AND I'M TELLING YOU AGAIN—I NEVER TOUCHED EMI.)
I clenched my fists. "Then who... who killed her?"
(ALL I DID WAS KILL THE HITMAN. AND HARUTO. AND HIS FATHER.)
My legs nearly gave out. "WHAT?! You killed Haruto and his father? Why? And what do you mean a hitman?"
(You little shit, shut up and listen. And keep walking—you'll be late for the office.)
I swallowed hard, forcing my steps forward. People pushed past me as I stumbled along the sidewalk.
His words echoed in my skull. A hitman... sent for me? Haruto's father behind it? My chest tightened with confusion, with guilt. If Kenji2 was telling the truth, then Emi's death... was it really unrelated to him? Did I... jump off that cliff for nothing?
My thoughts spun out of control.
But in the end... what's done is done. Emi's gone. The cliff, the blood, the screams—it all still feels real.
I pushed open the office door, my heart racing with a different kind of anticipation.
For now... all I could do was get to my desk. And maybe... just maybe... catch a glimpse of Emi's face again.
....
The glass doors of the building slid open as I stepped inside. The faint chill of the air conditioning washed over me, carrying with it the sterile smell of polished floors and fresh paper. The office lobby was larger than I remembered—bright lights overhead, rows of potted plants along the corners, and a reception desk where a woman with sharp eyes checked newcomers one by one.
I clutched the strap of my bag tightly, reminding myself that this time things were different. My clothes weren't stained. My face wasn't bruised. For once, I looked like a normal employee walking into his first day.
The newcomers were gathered near a long hallway. There were about eight of us in total. And then my heart froze.
Ryo. Shinji.
Two figures I knew too well. Their voices, their mocking laughs, their hands pushing me against walls in the past—all of it came rushing back like an old nightmare. But now, they didn't know. They only saw me as another quiet face in the crowd. I lowered my gaze and kept my breathing steady. Not this time. Not again.
And then, Ayana. My chest tightened. Her hair tied neatly into a ponytail, the faint scent of floral perfume lingering as she stood just two steps away from me. In the past, I had stared too long, admired from a distance, only to be laughed at and rejected when I confessed months later. But now… now I kept my eyes forward, pretending she was just another colleague.
The office corridors stretched wide, walls lined with glass panels revealing rooms full of desks, computers, and workers in motion. Phones rang, printers buzzed, keyboards clicked—it was a rhythm of life I had once dreaded, but now it all felt strangely precious.
Finally, we reached a large meeting room. A voice called us to attention.
Emi.
She stood at the front with a stack of papers in her hand. My breath caught. Her blouse was light blue, tucked neatly into a black skirt that ended just above her knees. Her hair, tied softly at the back, shimmered under the ceiling light. Her voice—calm, professional, familiar. Too familiar.
"She was alive and looked gorgeous"
I wanted to scream. To run forward. To fall to my knees and hug her. But I bit my tongue until it hurt. No. Not now.
She introduced herself as our coordinator, explaining the company's structure, the rules, the expectations. Her smile never wavered as she handed out documents, her fingers brushing mine for just a second as she passed me a sheet. My chest burned.
"Kenji, right? You'll be in logistics."
My department. Under her.
I nodded quickly, hiding the storm raging inside me. This time, I thought, this time I won't waste it.