Yui's vision blurred with pain as the classroom dissolved into black, the faceless classmates still clawing at her while Ayumi just stared. Her chest tightened, like the world itself was pressing down on her lungs—she couldn't breathe.
Her scream finally ripped free—
And she jolted upright.
Her chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, sweat clinging to her forehead and hairline. The dark outline of Haru's room slowly replaced the nightmare, the faint glow of the lamp casting long shadows across the walls. Her heart thundered against her ribs so hard it hurt.
Beside her, Haru lay sound asleep, his back turned toward her, his breathing calm and steady.
For a long moment she just sat there, clutching the blanket against her chest with trembling hands, afraid the dream hadn't really ended. She glanced at Haru—his familiar presence was the only thing tethering her to reality.
But even then, the echo of Ayumi's blank stare clung to her like a shadow.
Her lips parted, like she wanted to whisper his name, to wake him. But the words stuck in her throat.
So she sat there in silence, terrified, trying to steady her breathing while Haru continued sleeping peacefully at her side.
Yui didn't sleep again.
She sat there with her knees pulled up, chin resting on her folded arms, staring at the faint light creeping through the edges of the curtains. Every sound outside—the distant crows, a car starting on the street—made her flinch.
Her eyes felt heavy and raw from tears, but she couldn't close them. Not after that.
She glanced at Haru again. He was still asleep, his hair messy and falling into his face, his breathing steady.
The rise and fall of his chest calmed her just enough to keep her grounded, even if her hands were still shaking under the blanket.
By the time the alarm clock on his desk ticked toward 6:00, the sky was faintly glowing pale blue. Yui hugged the blanket tighter, waiting, almost desperately, for him to wake up—because she didn't think she could handle the silence anymore.
At 6:15, Haru stirred, rolling onto his back. His eyes fluttered open, squinting against the morning light.
He yawned, rubbing at his eyes, before noticing Yui sitting upright beside him, tense and wide-eyed.
"…Yui?" his voice was low and groggy. He sat up a little, concern already in his tone. "You're awake? Since when?"
Her throat tightened. She didn't answer right away—she just shook her head, forcing a small, tired smile, like she didn't want him to worry.
Yui and Haru sat at the table quietly crunching through rice crackers, trying to fill the silence with food. The sound of footsteps on the stairs made Haru stiffen, and a moment later his mom appeared, tying her hair back, still in her robe.
She stopped in the doorway, blinking between them.
"…Haru. Since when did I say you're allowed to have a girl sleep in your bed?"
Haru nearly choked on his cracker. "Uh—! She's—uh—we were… working on a project together. Group project. Really important. Couldn't wait."
His words tumbled out so fast it sounded rehearsed.
Yui bowed quickly, cheeks pink. "Good morning, Tanaka San.."
His mom raised an eyebrow but smiled knowingly, deciding not to push. "Mmhm. Well, since there's 1 more person here, I'll need to make a bigger breakfast." She moved into the kitchen, pulling out eggs, rice, and miso paste.
Yui glanced at Haru as his face turned a little red. He leaned toward her and whispered, "That was close…"
On the walk to school, everything felt distorted, like reality was in fast-forward. Kids they knew from middle school walked past them—only now they were all taller, older, their uniforms crisp and grown-up.
Some Yui remembered as little kids were suddenly lanky teenagers, their voices deeper, their laughter different.
"…This is so weird," Yui muttered, hugging her bag against her.
"Yeah," Haru said, scanning the crowd. "It's like everyone hit fast-forward but we blinked and missed it."
When they reached the school gates, Yui froze.
Kaito was leaning against the wall, chatting with a couple of classmates. No glasses, his eyes clear and sharp.
He looked… different. Still shy in how he carried himself, but without the glasses, his face was striking.
Inside the classroom, Airi and Daichi sat side by side at a desk near the window, heads bent together over an assignment.
Airi's hair brushed past her shoulders now, longer and softer than Yui remembered. Daichi had grown too, his posture straighter, his voice deeper as he murmured something that made Airi smirk.
And then—
"Yui!"
Her head snapped up.
Ayumi stood at her desk, ginger hair falling like a curtain down her back, green eyes catching the sunlight as she waved her over with a smile. The same sarcastic, confident spark Yui had always known was right there, alive and shining.
The breath left Yui's lungs. She staggered a step back, gripping the frame of the doorway. Her vision blurred instantly with tears.
Ayumi tilted her head. "What's wrong? Is there something on my face?!" She chuckled, casual, teasing.
But Yui's knees buckled. She dropped her bag, clasping her hands over her mouth to muffle the sob that tore out of her chest. The tears wouldn't stop, rolling fast and hot down her cheeks.
Her body shook as she gasped for air, the sound cracking in the suddenly quiet classroom.
Haru immediately stepped forward, putting a steadying hand on her back, his brows furrowed with worry.
The others stared in shock—Daichi halfway out of his chair, Airi's smirk gone, Kaito stiff with wide eyes.
And Ayumi—Ayumi looked startled, lowering her hand slowly. "…Yui?" she asked, her voice softer now, confused, unaware of just how much her presence was tearing Yui apart.
Yui's vision was still blurred from tears when she heard a soft voice cutting through the haze. "Yui… are you okay?"
Her head jerked up. It wasn't the real Ayumi—she could tell instantly—but the girl standing there had the same familiar posture, the same gentle tone she remembered. Yui's heart twisted painfully. She couldn't even respond; her throat felt raw, and her words would betray the wave of grief she was trying to hold back.
From across the classroom, Airi's sharp eyes flicked toward Yui, concern etched into her features. "Yui? Are you feeling sick or…?" she asked carefully, moving slightly closer.
Kaito and Daichi mirrored her worry.
Kaito's hands fidgeted nervously in front of him, eyes darting between Yui and the alternate Ayumi. "Yui… are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly, his voice almost hesitant, unsure how to approach her while she seemed so fragile.
Yui's fingers clutched the edge of her desk, trembling. She shook her head slightly, unable to meet anyone's gaze.
Her chest felt like it would burst from the weight of her memories and the guilt still clawing at her.
Haru reached for Yui's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Come on, let's step out for a bit," he whispered, his voice soft but firm. Yui nodded quickly, relieved to have him beside her, and allowed him to guide her toward the empty hallway under the staircase. The classroom noise faded behind them—the chatter, the shuffling papers, the laughter—but for Yui, the heaviness in her chest remained.
As the door clicked shut behind them, Yui felt a small, calming sense of privacy. Haru crouched slightly to meet her gaze, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched across his features.
Yui shook her head, swallowing hard. "I… I think so," she whispered, forcing a weak smile and hastily wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks. She clenched his hand tightly, finding a small comfort in his touch.
"I… could you get something for me?"
she said after a pause, her voice small, almost hesitant. "It's kind of… silly, but…"
Haru raised an eyebrow. "Of course. What is it?"
Yui hesitated, cheeks warming. "It's just… my water bottle… I left it in the classroom. " Her fingers twisted slightly in his hand. "I'm kind of thirsty..right now.."
Haru gave her a reassuring smile. "Okay, wait here. I'll get it for you."
As he turned to leave, Yui watched him go, still clutching his hand for a moment before letting go. From the classroom, Ayumi had been watching them. Her expression had shifted—her brows knitted in worry, her lips pressed into a thin line. She saw Haru gently leading Yui out, Yui's shoulders hunched and her steps hesitant, and something in Ayumi stirred uneasily.
She stepped closer to the classroom door, eyes narrowing. "What's going on with them?" she murmured to herself.
"Why is Yui being taken out like that? And… he's acting so… strange."
As he walked down the hall, Haru's thoughts drifted unbidden to Haruka. The memory of her smile, her small voice… it twisted in his chest. He felt the nausea creep up, his stomach tightening from the anxiety he'd been bottling. But he forced himself to take steady breaths. He had to be strong—for both of them. If either of them broke here, there'd be no one left to hold the other up.
Just as he steadied himself, a voice called out from behind.
"Haru! What's going on with you and Yui?"
He turned slightly to see Ayumi standing there, arms crossed, her expression a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "What are you hiding? Why are you two sneaking off?"
She tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk forming. "So… are you and Yui dating?"
she asked, her tone more observational than teasing, though there was a trace of surprise in her voice.
Haru froze for a moment, caught off guard. His grip on the water bottle tightened, and a faint blush crept onto his cheeks. "W-what? No… we're not—"
Ayumi interrupted, shaking her head slightly. "I'm just saying… I don't really see why you'd hide it. I wasn't expecting that or anything, but… it's not really something to keep secret, is it?"
Her tone was calm, almost matter-of-fact, not judgmental, just pointedly honest.
Yui, standing close behind Haru, felt heat rush to her ears. She looked down at her feet, fumbling with the strap of her backpack. "I-It's… nothing," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but her cheeks burned fiercely.
Haru, still flustered, quickly exhaled and tried to regain composure. "It's not like that. We… we're just…
Ayumi snorted. "Relax, I was joking."
"You both look like you haven't slept in a week, that's all."
Yui glanced up then, startled by the concern in Ayumi's tone. It wasn't mocking, not really—it was softer, more familiar. Like the Ayumi she used to know. The one she lost.
Yui's throat tightened again. "I'm fine,"
she whispered, her voice small but trembling.
Ayumi frowned, studying her face. "You sure? You look like you just saw a ghost."
Haru's jaw clenched. "She's just tired,"
he said quickly, his voice carrying an edge that Ayumi caught immediately.
That only made her raise her eyebrows higher. "…Okay, geez. No need to bite my head off, I was just asking."
She stepped closer though, lowering her tone. "Seriously, though—if something's wrong, you can talk to me. Both of you."
That last part lingered in the air. For a moment, Yui could almost believe this was their Ayumi—alive, laughing, stubborn, but always protective beneath her sarcasm. The illusion hurt.
Yui's lips parted, her eyes glassy. "Ayumi…" she breathed.
Ayumi tilted her head slightly.
"Yeah?"
But Yui didn't continue. She just shook her head quickly, forcing a wobbly smile.
"Nothing. Sorry, I just spaced out."
Ayumi's expression softened a little. "You're weird today," she murmured, but her tone had no bite to it. "Go drink your water before you pass out or something."
She turned and headed back into the classroom, tossing them a casual wave over her shoulder. "And seriously, if you are dating, at least tell me before rumors start flying. I hate finding out from other people."
The moment she was gone, Yui sagged against the wall, exhaling shakily.
Haru glanced at her, eyes full of quiet worry. "You okay?"
Yui nodded weakly, but her voice cracked when she whispered, "She's really alive here, Haru…"
He stepped closer, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "I know. I saw."
Yui's voice trembled.
"It's not fair. She's alive, Haruka's alive, everyone's just… here, and it feels real. But it's not our world. It's someone else's."
Haru didn't answer right away. He looked past her, down the hall where the morning light spilled through the windows, making everything seem almost too warm, too normal.
"Then we'll play along," he said quietly. "For now. If this world gives us a chance to see them again—even for a little—it's better than running from ghosts."
Yui blinked at him, her heart twisting. "…Even if it hurts?"
He met her gaze, his expression steady but tired. "Especially if it hurts."
Yui and Haru walked back toward the classroom in uneasy silence. The faint chatter from inside drifted through the door — laughter, chairs scraping, the sound of a bell somewhere down the hall. Everything felt too normal, like the universe itself was pretending nothing was wrong.
Haru reached for the handle, glancing at Yui. "Ready?"
She nodded faintly. "Yeah."
But before he could touch the door—
A gust of cold wind swept down the corridor. The lights flickered, dimmed, then snapped to a harsh white. The hallway's air changed — thin, heavy, static-laced.
Yui froze. "Haru…"
From the far end of the hallway, footsteps echoed. Sharp, deliberate.
Then she appeared.
Sayaka.
Her red hair was pulled into two loose buns, strands escaping around her face in that perfectly unbothered way — not neat, not messy, just her. The silver edge of her scythe scraped lightly against the tile, leaving faint sparks in its wake. Her crimson eyes glinted like glass under the flickering light.
Haru's body went rigid, instinctively stepping in front of Yui. "You've got to be kidding me…"
Sayaka stopped several paces away, tilting her head, a smirk ghosting over her lips. "Well, look at that. I follow one ripple, and it leads me right to you two."
Haru's hand twitched near his pocket where the faint shape of the clock pressed through the fabric. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"
Sayaka tapped the scythe lightly against her shoulder, eyes sharp. "One of the Counselors. Sayaka Kimura."
Yui blinked, her heartbeat hammering. "Counselors?"
Sayaka raised a brow, clearly unimpressed.
"Wow. You really don't know, huh? You've been bouncing through timelines with an extremely powerful artifact and you didn't even ask who keeps the damn multiverse from collapsing?"
The scythe shifted in her hand, its blade gleaming as she leveled it toward them.
"We're the ones who maintain the structure of reality — the reason the universe hasn't folded in on itself from all your timeline-hopping. And right now, you're where you shouldn't be."
Haru narrowed his eyes. "So you're saying you're… some kind of cosmic cop?"
Yui took a shaky step forward. "We didn't mean to end up here. We're just trying to fix—"
Sayaka cut her off, eyes narrowing. "You think I don't know that? Believe me, I get it. But intentions don't stop time from bleeding into itself."
She lowered the scythe slightly, her expression softening for half a second — almost pitying.
"You're not supposed to exist in this world. None of this is real for you. And the longer you stay, the worse it gets for everyone who actually belongs here."
Her voice broke through the tense silence of the hall, heavy and echoing.
"The multiverse isn't a toy. You start tearing holes in it, it doesn't just snap back. It unravels."
Haru's jaw tightened. "Then what are we supposed to do? You want us to just leave everyone behind again?"
Sayaka sighed through her nose, gripping the scythe tighter.
"Yeah. That's exactly what I want. Because this universe wasn't built for you. You think you're saving your friends, but all you're doing is dragging their echoes into the same collapse that destroyed your own timeline."
Her eyes flicked toward Yui, her voice quieter now but firm. "You can't save what's already gone, Nakamura. You should've learned that by now."
The words hit Yui like a blade to the chest. Her hands clenched, her breath catching in her throat.
Sayaka took a step closer, lowering the scythe so it barely hovered between them. "Last warning," she said coldly. "Give back the clock, or I'll take it myself."
Yui's pulse thundered in her ears. She glanced at Haru, then back at Sayaka's glowing red eyes.
Her fingers twitched near her bag, where the Jester's clock was hidden.
Sayaka's scythe gleamed under the harsh hallway light. "Last chance. Hand it over."
Yui's grip tightened. Her voice came out quiet but steady.
"No."
Sayaka blinked once. Then her expression flattened. "You really wanna do this the hard way?"
Yui didn't move.
Sayaka sighed through her nose, the edge of her mouth twitching in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Alright then."
She shifted her stance, spinning the scythe once in her hand. "I didn't want to use violence—but you're not leaving me much of a choice."
Before either of them could react, Sayaka's form blurred. In a single flash, she closed the distance between them, her scythe cutting through the air with a shriek of metal. Haru grabbed Yui and yanked her back just in time — the blade sliced through the floor, leaving a long, smoking line in the tile.
Yui stumbled, barely catching her balance. "She's fast—!"
Sayaka grinned, her voice sharp with adrenaline. "You're not bad at running. Shame that's not gonna save you."
Yui's ankle bracelet flashed green, reacting to the threat. A burst of golden light rippled across her hand as her sword materialized in her grip. She took a shaky breath, setting her feet. "Then I'll fight you."
Sayaka raised a brow, amused. "Cute."
Yui swung. The blade caught the light—clean, quick, full of instinct—but Sayaka parried it with one hand, sparks erupting where metal met metal. The impact rattled up Yui's arm. Sayaka twisted her scythe, kicking Yui backward and sending her crashing against the wall.
"Too slow," Sayaka said flatly.
Haru lunged forward. From his sleeve, a small burst of a lighter brown light formed — a compact weapon, half-blade, half energy shard, flickering like unstable magic. He slashed upward, aiming for her shoulder.
Sayaka caught the weapon with the handle of her scythe and swept his legs from under him, slamming the scythe's butt into his chest. "Brave, but dumb," she muttered.
"Haru!" Yui scrambled up, eyes wide with panic. Her sword trembled in her grip, glowing faintly as her emotions surged.
The air rippled.
Her ankle bracelet flared again, stronger this time. The sword shifted shape — its hilt extending, the blade splitting into twin edges. One of her knight weapons. The metal sang in her hands, resonating with her pulse.
Sayaka hesitated just long enough to notice the energy shift. "Well, that's new."
Yui charged. Her movements were desperate but focused — the kind of strength born from fear. Their weapons collided again, sending another pulse of energy through the corridor.
Sayaka gritted her teeth. "You really don't know when to quit!"
"I'm not giving you the clock!"
Yui shouted, pushing back with everything she had.
For a moment, the clash froze — Sayaka's scythe and Yui's blade locked together, energy burning bright where they met.
Sayaka landed lightly, the scythe's edge scraping the floor as she straightened. Her breathing was steady, almost bored now. "Okay," she muttered, rolling her shoulders, "I'm done fighting little kids."
Yui's chest rose and fell rapidly. She still held her weapon, her knuckles white. Haru was back on his feet, though barely. Both of them stood side by side, shaky but ready.
Sayaka tilted her head with an exasperated sigh.
"You two really don't get it, do you? You think this is just about you?"
She reached into her pocket and pulled out something small — a matte black sphere, smooth and unremarkable. It looked harmless, almost like a toy.
"What… is that?" Haru asked warily.
Sayaka smirked. "Cleanup."
She tossed it.
The orb hit the floor between them and cracked open with a low, pulsing hum.
A wave of black mist spiraled outward, swallowing the air around them. The lights flickered again, dimming into nothing.
Yui stumbled back, coughing. "What—what's happening—?"
The mist thickened, heavy and warm like fog, wrapping around their legs. The air shimmered with faint streaks of red.
Yui's vision started to blur, her sword flickering in and out of form.
Haru reached for her arm, barely managing to catch her hand. "Yui—stay awake—"
"I'm… trying…" she mumbled, fighting the
drowsiness spreading through her limbs.
Her eyelids grew heavier with every breath.
Sayaka's voice echoed faintly through the haze. "Don't fight it. It's just a containment field. You'll wake up—eventually. Somewhere safer. Somewhere you belong."
Yui's knees buckled, her hand reaching for Haru weakly. "Haru…"
His voice came out slurred. "I…"
The world tilted. The mist wrapped tighter, pressing against their skin like velvet. Yui tried to lift her sword again, but it slipped from her grasp as the light drained from her eyes.
Sayaka watched in silence until they both collapsed, their forms dissolving slightly around the edges, like the universe was already rewriting them.
She twirled the scythe once and slung it across her shoulder. "Kids like them shouldn't be able to cross timelines,"
she muttered. Her tone softened just barely.
"They really have no idea what kind of damage they're causing."
She crouched, picking up the cracked black sphere. Its core still pulsed faintly, glowing with traces of green and silver light — residue from Yui and Haru's energy.
Sayaka sighed.
"Guess I'll have to reset the universes they touched. Clean up the mess before it spreads any further."
With a flick of her wrist, she swung the scythe once — and the entire scene fractured like glass.