A male student sat at his desk, staring seriously at a notebook filled with strange scribbles.
Even though he was never the type to take anything seriously.
The notes were about time loops, memories, and everything related to them.
I wrote those notes myself, pouring in the effort I could only hope wouldn't end up wasted.
That person is me.
The one now trying to figure out how to escape the time loop happening to myself.
This is already the third repetition. I only realized it during the previous loop—that I was stuck in the same day.
Coincidentally, today is only the second day of my first year of high school.
Luckily, it's just an introduction session between teachers and new students.
That gave me more time to process everything.
But now, I've hit a dead end.
In the previous loop, I tried thinking it through, but couldn't find an answer.
"Is this because of someone else? Or because of me?"
I muttered that to myself in the middle of the noisy classroom, filled with groups already formed and chatting enthusiastically.
Meanwhile, I was still confused, searching for a way to reach tomorrow.
To be honest, a small part of me felt excited.
It finally felt like I had a real challenge in life.
But the sense of being lost still made me restless.
Not wanting to carry this burden alone, I decided to ask someone for help.
Her name is Momo—the smartest girl I know.
She was my friend back in middle school, and we happened to meet again yesterday during the orientation event.
Thankfully, I've always had a good relationship with her.
Without hesitation, I asked her to come to the cafeteria, saying I had something serious to discuss.
During break time, she actually came and waited for me.
She even waved enthusiastically when she saw me.
"Hey! Ren!! Over here! Over here! I'm here!"
Her loud call made several students look at us, which made me a bit uneasy.
I sat down in front of her, tense.
"Your voice is too loud, you know," I whispered.
"Hm? Why? Embarrassed? Ehe," she teased.
I sighed. "No one would expect someone as overly cheerful as you to be the girl who ranked number one in the district graduation exam last year."
"That's right! That's right! Super cheerful! Smart! And cute! That's me—Momo, the adorable star of District 12!"
"Yeah, yeah, I admit it. So… can I talk about what I wanted to discuss?"
"What do you want from Momo?" she suddenly asked with dramatic shock.
"Wait—don't tell me you're confessing? No! No! No! Why in the cafeteria!??"
I was used to her antics, so I just stayed quiet and waited.
"Are you done?" I asked calmly when she finally stopped.
Seeing my serious face, she paused. Then she sighed, put on a serious expression, and asked,
"So… what do you want from me, Mister Quiet?" She sighed again. "You're no fun, you know. Other guys prefer my other side, just saying."
I finally smiled. This was the real Momo—the one I'd known.
I did like her playful side, but it felt different when you knew someone's real self beneath the mask.
But just when I thought she'd stay real with me, Momo suddenly put her mask back on—the bright, charming smile that had made dozens of boys fall for her.
I sighed. "Yeah, I know people are watching. Just… listen to me for now, alright? You can tell me what you find over the phone later."
Still wearing her mask, she replied, "What do you mean? I don't get it. And if that's the case, why not just say it on the phone from the start? You know I'm busy, right? The first week of school is a social battlefield for me. This is extremely important!"
Silence fell between us.
I expected this.
After all, she's someone who chases success in every area of her life.
Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't come at all.
But this was when the time we spent together in middle school finally paid off.
With full confidence, I said,
"I'll treat you. You can eat as much as you want."
Her smile froze.
Then slowly faded.
"…Fine. Just this once," she said.
Instantly, her eyes locked onto the cafeteria ladies like a hunting predator.
Momo began ordering everything she wanted.
I smiled, relieved that I persuaded her—even though my wallet cried quietly.
But this problem was far more important.
"So? What's your problem this time? Someone bothering you again?" Momo asked brightly as her food arrived.
I pulled out my notebook. "First, I want you to see this."
Momo glanced at it while munching her food.
When she finally swallowed, she said,
"A threat letter?"
"No!"
"Sorry, sorry. Joking. What is this? Are you writing a novel?"
"No."
"Then what? Explain. You think I'm some mind-reading esper?"
"Oh? So this is the limit of District One's top scorer?" I teased.
Her annoyed face surfaced immediately. "Did you forget I know martial arts?"
I apologized at lightning speed, remembering some painful memories.
Then I explained everything that had happened to me.
Momo listened casually while eating.
At first, she thought I was messing around.
But when I insisted I wasn't joking, she grew serious.
She began examining my notes word by word, even the drawings, hoping to spot a clue.
"First loop: my cute little sister woke me up by jumping on me.
Second loop: my cute little sister woke me up by splashing cold water on my face.
Third loop: i'm woke up earlier and found her sleeping on top of me."
Hearing her read that part, I perked up.
"So? Did you notice anything?"
Momo stared at me for a moment.
Then answered:
"Siscon."
"No! Why would you say that!"
"Siscon."
"I'm not!"
"Then why is a half of this note about your 'cute' little sister?"
"That's because! …"
"Because what? Siscon?"
"I said I'm not!"
"Then why? Siscon?"
"I SAID I'M NOT A SISCON!"
Momo just smirked smugly.
Meanwhile, I tried calming myself down before saying,
"After graduating, the only person I interacted with was my sister."
Momo's teasing expression vanished instantly.
She replied,
"Social recluse."
"Shut up!"
Then she smiled—her most genuine, beautiful smile so far—and said,
"So that means you're lucky to have me as your friend, right?"
Hearing that, I remembered the first time we met.
That sincere smile was the reason I decided to get close to her two years ago.
For a moment, time seemed to stop.
I couldn't even hear what she was saying afterward.
And without realizing it, my lips moved:
"…Yeah. You're right."