"Blood…"
"Blood… something—pierced through my throat…"
I couldn't breathe.
Cold.
Dark.
And then—
I jolted awake.
A familiar ceiling.
A familiar room.
And—
"You're awake?"
That voice made my heart stop.
I turned my head.
My sister.
The one who had died six years ago.
My mind went blank for a few seconds.
Then a thought surfaced.
…Impossible.
I shot up, breathing heavily.
Looking around again.
No mistake.
This was—
the past.
"…I see."
I clenched my hand.
"So… I came back."
But—
If this was just a return to the past…
Then why—
did that feeling of being killed still linger so vividly?
Everything…
started three months ago—
"…No."
I shook my head.
"That's not right."
A faint smile formed on my lips.
"That's… the wrong way to put it."
Because—
time… for me now—
"…does it even have any meaning anymore?
.
.
.
The room was so messy there was barely any space to step.Clothes were strewn across the floor. Unwashed dishes piled up in the corner. The air was heavy, carrying the smell of dampness and the stagnant weight of days… or maybe years.
Kairi Ren lay sprawled on the old sofa, eyes open but not really looking at anything.Thirty years old.No job.No purpose.No one expecting anything.His life… was simply existing.
A faint sound came from outside the door. A key turned, then the door opened.
"You still haven't cleaned up?"A familiar voice, a little tired but gentle.
Akane Ren stepped in and set her bag on the table. She glanced at the room, let out a soft sigh, but said nothing more. That made the heaviness even worse.
"Have you eaten?""Yeah."A lie, far too familiar.
Akane didn't ask further. She walked straight into the kitchen and started tidying up, as she did every day — as if this had become an inseparable part of her life.
Kairi Ren watched her back.The only one left.The only one who hadn't abandoned him.…And the only one he was dragging down with him.
He turned his face away.
The next day, Kairi stepped outside.Not because he wanted to.It was just… if he stayed in that room any longer, he felt he would rot away.
Familiar eyes fell upon him again.Whispers.Mockery.Contempt.
"There he is again.""That piece of trash, huh?""Still alive?"
Kairi didn't react.He was used to it.For a very long time.
Six years ago.An accusation.A lie.A trap set perfectly… but he didn't know who had laid it.
Everything happened fast, and Kairi was caught in a spiral of suspicion and failure.Reputation destroyed.Job gone.Relationships… shattered.Even the project he had devoted years of passion to…taken away.Easily.As if it had never belonged to him.
No evidence. No reason.Only pain and a spreading sense of injustice.
Kairi stopped in front of a convenience store.Inside, a few people were laughing and chatting.A normal world.A world he no longer belonged to.
He turned away.
Night fell.Kairi returned home.The lights were already on.The faint scent of food lingered in the air.
Akane sat at the table, a laptop and a stack of documents in front of her."Back already?" — she didn't look up."…Yeah."
A short silence."Have you been going out more lately?""…No."
Akane's typing slowed."You should try finding some work—""Stop."
Kairi cut her off.Not loudly.But enough to end the conversation.
Akane remained silent.She said nothing more.Only a soft sigh.
Night deepened. Kairi lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was pitch dark. Quiet enough to hear his own heartbeat.
Once again, he asked himself:"Why… does all this misfortune fall on me?"
Everything felt like a cruel jest of fate. Wherever he went, whatever he did, he was isolated, despised, turned into everyone's joke. Familiar to the point of pain every time he saw the scrutinizing eyes, heard the whispering voices.
"Why… am I always the outcast?"
Those around him seemed never to trust him. His cherished project had been snatched away. Heartless slanders haunted him. He had once hoped, once believed… but all trust had dissolved, leaving only emptiness and loneliness.
He closed his eyes, imagining he could start over. Another Kairi, free from false accusations, not isolated, not mocked. A Kairi brave enough to stand, to defend himself, to not be toyed with by fate.
But reality forced him to open his eyes. The endless days of isolation, failure, and contempt still surrounded him. He knew he had to live. Keep moving forward, even if each step was heavy and exhausting.
A strange feeling crept in: as if… he had lived this day before. Every scornful look, every mocking word, every laugh — all were disturbingly familiar.
"Why… does it feel like I'm repeating it… again?"
He didn't know if it was intuition or confused memory. Only that if he continued, he would be trapped forever in this cycle of isolation. Yet deep inside, a glimmer of hope: if given a chance to start over, he would be different. Never like this.
These thoughts didn't free him from reality. But at least they reminded him… he still craved life, even a lonely, grueling one. A part of him still believed that tomorrow could be different.
He closed his eyes, letting the silence wash over him.But deep in his mind, the question echoed: would tomorrow truly be different, or just another version of today?