That night, the park was quieter than usual. The streetlights glowed steadily, without strange moving shadows or unsettling noises. Arou stood alone in the middle of the pathway.
"Arou."
He turned around.
Zata stood several steps behind him. He had not appeared suddenly, nor had he startled him—it was as if he had been there from the very beginning.
"You're not hiding anymore," Arou said flatly.
Zata slowly shook his head. "There's no need."
Arou stared at him sharply. "All of this… this world… Airi…"
"This is your Fourth Game."
"Right," Zata replied calmly. "And you are still standing inside it."
Arou took a deep breath. "Then end it already."
Zata watched him for a moment before taking one step closer.
"I didn't come here for that," he said quietly. "I only want one answer."
Silence settled over the park.
"Arou," Zata said, his voice calm, "what does happiness mean to you?"
There was no pressure. No threat.
And because of that, the question felt unbearably heavy.
Arou opened his mouth.
Words rose inside his mind—truth, resistance, stolen memories.
But he never spoke them aloud.
Zata studied his face for a long while before giving a faint smile.
"Good," he said softly. "I already have my answer."
The park lights slowly dimmed.
The air became warm.
And everything disappeared.
Four Years Later.
Arou opened his eyes.
Soft sounds filled his ears—quiet laughter, whispers, steady footsteps.
He looked down.
A formal suit covered his body. It was unfamiliar, yet it fit perfectly.
There was a ring on his finger.
His breath caught.
"Arou?"
He lifted his head.
Airi stood in front of him.
A simple white dress. A gentle smile. Warm eyes.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly.
Arou stared at her for a long moment before speaking.
"…Wasn't I sixteen years old just a moment ago?"
Airi fell silent briefly before smiling as if the question were completely normal.
"No," she answered quietly. "You're twenty now. Just like me."
The words settled heavily inside him.
"Twenty…"
He closed his eyes, trying to remember anything at all—a day, an event, even the smallest memory from the last four years.
Nothing came.
Only a clean, carefully arranged emptiness.
"Airi…"
"What happened during those four years?"
Airi gently held his hand.
"We spent all our time together," she said with a soft smile.
"Always together…" Arou repeated quietly.
He could not remember a single day of it.
Yet the ring on his finger was real.
Airi's warmth was real.
In the reflection of the glass nearby, he saw the two of them standing side by side—
a married couple who looked complete.
And at last, Arou understood.
He had never answered Zata's question with words.
The world had chosen the answer for him.
Happiness—
without resistance,
without memories,
without conscious choice.
And now, Arou was living inside it.
Arou and Airi stood facing one another. There were no more approaching footsteps, no doors opening—only the short distance between them and the heavy silence filling the room.
Arou swallowed hard.
Airi's face looked calm, her faint smile carrying the acceptance of someone who had long prepared herself for this day.
But inside Arou's chest, unfamiliar emotions twisted restlessly.
The ceremony continued.
The officiant's voice echoed steadily through the quiet room. Word after word flowed until the vows were spoken.
Arou raised his gaze.
"I promise," he said softly but firmly.
Airi answered without hesitation.
"I promise too."
The rings changed hands.
Their touch lasted only a second, yet it was enough to leave Arou frozen in silence.
Applause filled the hall.
Haru stood from his seat with a bright smile.
"Congratulations," he said sincerely.
Tomo nodded beside him, grinning warmly.
On the other side of the room, Emi covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes shining with emotion.
Chika watched quietly with a gentle expression.
Airi's parents exchanged glances. Her mother smiled through restrained tears while her father gave a proud nod.
Arou's parents looked the same.
There was no doubt in their faces.
Only acceptance.
Arou slowly looked around.
Everything seemed right.
Too right.
He turned back toward Airi.
"So… we're married now," he whispered, almost as if he were trying to convince himself.
Airi gave a small smile.
"Yes. Starting today."
Arou returned the smile—
but deep inside him, a quiet voice whispered:
Is this really a beginning… or an ending?
The celebration gradually faded into the background. Congratulations still echoed faintly outside, but Arou and Airi now stood alone in a quieter room beside the hall. Warm evening light spilled gently through the windows.
Arou stood near the glass, taking a slow breath as he tried to calm his thoughts.
Airi sat nearby, her hands resting neatly on her lap. Her dress remained flawless, her expression calm—as though she had accepted this day long ago.
Several seconds passed in silence.
"Airi…" Arou finally spoke.
She looked up. "Yes?"
He hesitated.
"Doesn't any of this feel strange to you?"
Airi tilted her head slightly.
"Strange?"
"We're married," Arou said quietly. "Everyone is smiling. Nobody is questioning anything."
His fingers slowly tightened into a fist.
"But I feel like… I missed something important. Something huge."
Airi stayed silent for a moment before giving him a small, gentle smile—not cheerful, but soothing.
"Arou," she said softly, "you've always thought too deeply about things."
She stood and walked a little closer, stopping just in front of him without touching him.
"We've been together for a long time," she continued. "Getting married is only natural."
A long time.
Those words tightened painfully around his chest.
"How long?" he asked suddenly.
Airi blinked.
"Since forever."
The answer was too short.
Too vague.
Arou searched her face for hesitation—
but found only calm certainty.
As though this world had already given her every answer…
without leaving room for questions.
Arou lowered his head.
"Sorry," he murmured. "I just… need time."
Airi smiled once more.
"I'm here."
There was no embrace.
No sweet promises.
Only two people standing across from one another—
one believing everything was right,
and the other beginning to wonder whether that truth had ever belonged to him at all.
Outside the room, laughter echoed again.
The world continued moving normally.
But inside Arou, something had already begun to shift.
Night slowly fell.
Arou sat alone in the room that was supposedly his.
Everything was clean.
Too clean.
He stared at the wall clock.
Its hands moved normally.
Every second ticked with convincing rhythm.
But the calendar hanging on the wall stole the breath from his lungs.
The year displayed on it was four years ahead of the one he remembered.
Slowly, Arou stood and approached it.
His fingers pressed against the paper, as though confirming it was real.
"…Not a dream," he whispered.
His gaze shifted toward a small table in the corner.
Photographs rested there.
Pictures of himself.
Airi.
Tomo.
Haru.
Chika.
Everyone looked older.
There were vacation photos, pictures of shared laughter, snapshots that should have carried memories—
yet none of them felt familiar.
"Did I really live through all of this… without remembering any of it?" he whispered.
The bedroom door slowly opened.
Airi entered quietly.
"You're still awake?" she asked softly.
Arou turned toward her quickly.
"Airi… these photos."
She glanced at them briefly before smiling.
"They're our memories."
Arou stared sharply at her.
"When were these taken?"
Airi thought for a moment.
"A few years ago."
The answer sounded normal.
Too normal.
"And me?" Arou asked quietly. "What was I like back then?"
Airi stepped closer until she stood beside him.
"You were the same as you are now."
Arou clenched his fist tightly.
"That's impossible," he said. "If I lived through four years… I should remember something."
Airi looked at him silently.
Her gaze was not confused.
It was calm—
like someone completely certain of her own truth.
"Memories aren't important," she said softly. "What matters is now."
His heartbeat quickened violently.
"Airi…"
"Since when did you start talking like that?"
Airi gave no answer.
The room light flickered once.
Only for an instant.
Barely noticeable.
But during that instant—
a voice echoed quietly inside his mind.
Calm.
Deep.
"You're beginning to realize it."
Arou froze.
His breathing stopped.
"Airi… did you hear that?" he asked quickly.
She slowly shook her head.
"Hear what?"
The voice came again.
"Those four years weren't lost."
"They were exchanged."
Arou covered his ears.
"Zata…" he whispered.
Airi frowned slightly.
"Zata? Who is that?"
Arou stared at her face—
the face he loved,
yet now felt like part of the very world imprisoning him.
"What is really happening?" he whispered weakly.
No answer came.
The lights stabilized again.
The voice disappeared.
Airi gently touched his hand.
"You're tired," she said softly. "Tomorrow will be better."
Arou allowed her to hold his hand—
but inside his heart, something had already collapsed.
He realized one undeniable truth.
This happiness was real.
But the path that led him here—
was not.
And somewhere beyond this peaceful world,
someone was waiting for the perfect moment to remind him of that truth.