There was nothing.
No light. No darkness. Not even the weight of his own existence.
Kaito floated—suspended in an endless void. His body? Gone. His breath? Gone. His thoughts? Faint whispers, lost in the silence.
"Am I... dead?" he wondered, though there was no one to hear.
A voice—a soft, sorrowful echo—answered from the depths of the nothingness, familiar yet impossibly distant.
"No."
The voice… it was Sayuri's. But aged. Wiser. More sorrowful. As though she, too, had lived a thousand lifetimes more than he.
"Not yet" she whispered
The void shimmered. The cold, empty air grew thick with memories—ones that Kaito could never forget.
Sayuri, crumpled on the floor, her life seeping out from the crimson stains. Her eyes—those eyes—fixed on him with a final, bittersweet smile.
And then... a memory of his own. The first time he had died.
The sharp, blinding pain. The weightlessness as his body hit the cold ground. A gunshot.
The bitter cold. The silence. His heartbeat fading into nothingness.
Kaito's chest tightened. His mind screamed, but his body refused to answer. It was all so clear now.
This was the second time. The second death.
"So I was given a second chance... and I still failed."
A hollow laugh bubbled up from within him, but it cracked before it could escape. It was a bitter, empty sound—like the final breath of someone who had nothing left to lose.
"So it's not a dream… it's not just a hallucination?" Kaito thought, desperate for clarity, his mind reeling in confusion. "It was all real... All of it. I thought I was just losing my mind."
A wisp of despair clung to his thoughts. "Am I dying again?"
But even as he pondered this, the silence around him only deepened. No light, no angels, no salvation. Just the endless void.
"I didn't see anything here… no heaven, no hell... I just wanted to see my family again. Maybe they're waiting for me, somewhere…"
The voice answered, and though it was distant, it felt like it was all around him, a presence that stretched across the dark expanse.
"Kaito..."
His name—a whisper, barely a breath—but it held a weight that pulled at his very soul.
"Your family is alive."
He flinched. That… that was not what he expected to hear. Alive? They were alive?
But before he could ask more, the voice spoke again, its tone firm yet sorrowful, as if knowing the pain that clung to his heart.
"No more questions. We're almost there."
"Almost where?" His thoughts screamed into the void, but the voice was already fading.
"See you again, Kaito."
And then—everything shattered.
The void cracked. A dark, inky tendril of shadow bled into the emptiness, followed by a burst of light—blinding, searing, and all-consuming.
Pain. A rush of it, so raw and fierce it made his chest seize in agony. His body jerked, limbs aching, breath stolen away. The world around him exploded back into existence.
Kaito gasped. His vision swam, everything spinning in a dizzying whirl. His hands—he could feel them. His body was whole again. And the cold earth beneath him. Dirt, grass, and gravestones.
A cemetery.
He didn't need to look around. He knew where he was. He felt it in his bones. The chill of death clung to the air, yet he was alive.
His hands trembled, and he held them up to his face, searching for the blood—the blood he knew should be there. The blood that had spilled from the bullet wound.
But it was gone.
He tore at his uniform, frantically inspecting the fabric. No hole. No blood. No sign of death. The wound—the pain—it was all gone.
"What the hell?" His voice was hoarse, thick with disbelief.
His phone—he fumbled for it, trembling hands pulling it from his pocket.
4:37 PM.
August 12.
The date—the same date. It felt like a punch to the gut.
The day it all started. The day he died.
The day he met her.
Kaito's chest tightened as he stared at the screen. His pulse quickened.
He blinked, the reality of it sinking in. The world was still here, still the same, but he was different. He had returned. And this time—this time, he would change everything.
His lips curled into a grim smile. A promise, one to himself and the world around him.
"I'm back."
His voice was steady now, calm. He leaned against a gravestone, the weight of the moment sinking deep into his soul. The sky above him—a soft, glowing orange—seemed to whisper of possibilities. The wind stirred, and the world continued its dance as though nothing had ever happened.
But Kaito knew better.
His mind raced, the threads of destiny weaving around him like an intricate tapestry.
His family—alive.
The assassin. The puppet—still unaware.
And him? He was no longer the man who had failed. This time, he would do things differently.