April 2.
Again.
---
This time, Ren didn't go to school.
He walked. Past the gates. Past the boundaries. Deep into the plain, where the grass grew taller and the air grew still.
There was a silence out there that didn't belong to any season.
It was *hollow*.
As if something was watching.
And finally, Ren whispered into the wind:
> "I know you're there."
No response.
"I've died," he continued. "I've been framed. I've watched him die more times than I can remember. I gave everything."
Still silence.
"But you're still doing this. Still rewinding the tape. So tell me — what are you?"
---
The grass shifted.
A voice answered.
Soft. Male, maybe. Or female. Young. Old. It didn't matter.
It spoke like wind moving between the ribs of a corpse.
> "We are the Loopkeeper."
Ren froze.
> "This world was not meant to hold you."
He clenched his fists. "I didn't ask to be here."
> "But you remained. Despite the code. Despite the endings. Despite her."
"…Serika?"
> "She followed her purpose. You disrupted it."
Ren's voice cracked. "She *killed him.*"
> "Because that was the role. Yours was to disappear. Yet you resisted."
He took a breath.
"What is this place? Some kind of program? A dream?"
> "A story."
That word hung in the air like a sword.
Ren narrowed his eyes. "And you're the author?"
> "No. We are the spine. The rule. The loop that keeps it from breaking."
He whispered, "Why him? Why Yuu?"
> "Because his death echoes cleanly."
Ren stepped forward. "You keep talking like we're just pieces in a machine."
> "You are."
---
Silence again.
The grass bent gently as if listening.
Then Ren spoke, softer.
"Then why let me remember?"
> "To test resilience. To measure fracture points. You were never meant to reach awareness."
"And now that I have?"
> "Now… we must end you properly."
---
Ren didn't flinch.
He'd heard death before.
He'd felt it.
But this time… something shifted.
Not fear.
Resolve.
"If this is a story," he said slowly, "then I'm going to write the last page myself."
---
He turned his back on the voice.
And walked away.
---
That night, he carved one last message into his notebook:
> "The Loopkeeper is real."
> "And they're afraid I'll find a way out."
---
**April 2.**
Again.
But something felt different.
---