The sun rose on April 3rd like it hadn't already done it five times before.
Ren Ayato watched it from his classroom window, eyes heavy with anticipation, dread humming beneath his skin. His legs bounced under the desk. His fingers tapped at the edge of his notebook, though he wasn't aware of it.
He had warned Yuu.
He had changed the outcome.
He had to believe that.
"Hey, Ren."
The voice startled him.
Yuu leaned over his desk, holding a packet of Pocky like a peace offering. "You spacing out again? You sure you're sleeping okay?"
Ren forced a small smile. "Yeah. Just… long night."
"You were serious yesterday, weren't you?" Yuu asked. "About the rooftop."
Ren nodded slowly. "You didn't go, right?"
"Nah. I stayed in the art room during break. Reina dragged me there."
Relief bloomed in Ren's chest.
Maybe this time...
Maybe it was enough.
Fate doesn't always kill with knives.
Sometimes it's slower. Quieter.
Sometimes it lets you believe you've won.
The day passed uneventfully.
Lunch. Classes. Idle chatter. Serika kept to herself. Even Mr. Kanda, the ever-suspicious disciplinary teacher, didn't seem to glance Ren's way once.
Ren walked home with Yuu, just like they used to.
They talked about nothing — a new game dropping, what club activities were opening up again, how Reina was weirdly good at making cranes from gum wrappers.
It was perfect.
Too perfect.
And that's when the dread began to crawl back in.
Evening.
Ren lay in bed, eyes wide open.
He was afraid to close them.
What if the loop punished him for this calm? What if tomorrow reset again?
He reached for his phone. 10:24 p.m.
No headlines. No calls. No accusations.
Just a blinking notification from Yuu: a picture of a vending machine can stuck halfway down the spiral.
Yuu:
"Still cursed lol. G'night."
Ren smiled.
Then frowned.
The last time Yuu texted him "goodnight," it was the same night he fell from the library roof.
The next morning.
Ren arrived at school early.
Too early. The building was mostly empty.
His footsteps echoed as he walked the halls. He passed the art room. Empty. The library. Locked. He checked the rooftop door. Still chained — just like he'd asked the janitor to keep it.
He stood by the third-floor hallway window, looking out over the fields.
The breeze stirred the grass below. Nothing moved.
And then—
A scream.
It came from below. Not from the roof. From the field itself.
Students rushed to the windows. Ren was already there.
Yuu Kaede's body lay in the grass.
Mouth open.
Eyes wide.
Still.
"No," Ren breathed.
He shoved the window open, wind slapping his face. His knuckles were white against the frame.
"NO!"
He bolted out of the building, past the crowd forming in the hall, past teachers shouting his name. He ran through the front doors, across the courtyard, and into the field.
And dropped to his knees beside the body.
The blood was warm. Fresh. His hands shook.
Someone whispered behind him.
"Wasn't he the last one with Yuu yesterday?"
Another voice: "Didn't he say something weird last week?"
And another: "I heard he threatened a teacher once."
Whispers turned into murmurs. Murmurs into judgment.
The story rewrote itself around him. Like it always did.
This time it wasn't a rooftop.
It was the field.
He had moved the ending. But he hadn't stopped it.
And now the loop would begin again.
That night, alone in the cell with concrete walls and too much silence, Ren closed his eyes and waited.
"You weren't meant to be here."
The whisper came like clockwork.
April 2.