From her seat at the breakfast table, Mikan watched her brother dig into the food she had prepared. Nothing unusual about that—Rito had always eaten without complaint.
But something about him felt… different.
It wasn't anything obvious. He still fumbled with his chopsticks now and then, still mumbled when his mouth was full, and still looked awkward whenever their eyes met.
And yet…
"…Thanks for taking care of me, Mikan."
Those words echoed in her head. Simple, plain. But the way he said them carried a weight, a quiet sincerity that Rito rarely expressed. Usually, he brushed off her efforts with embarrassed laughter or a sheepish excuse. Today, though, he looked straight at her, his voice steady.
Mikan lowered her gaze to her own bowl, hiding the faint warmth rising in her cheeks.
What's with him all of a sudden?
Her brother had always been kind in his own clumsy way, but this felt… different. More deliberate. Like he had finally realized something she couldn't quite name.
"Mm, maybe I'm just imagining things…" She muttered under her breath, picking at her rice.
Still, as she stole another glance at him—sitting upright, eyes brighter than before, an almost calm air around him—she couldn't shake the feeling that Rito had taken a small step forward.
Maturity? Awareness? She didn't know.
But even if she was imagining it… it wasn't a bad change.
Rito stepped out into the morning sunlight, and for a moment, the city froze in his eyes.
The streets weren't just streets—they were painted with light. Dust motes floated lazily in the air like drifting stars. Sunlight glanced off rooftops, catching the edge of signs and shop windows and turning them into tiny, shimmering screens.
A group of students passed by, chatting and laughing. Their voices were bright, almost musical, carrying across the street. One of the girls swung her bag carelessly, and it bounced in perfect rhythm with her laughter. To Rito, it looked… unreal, like a scene frozen from a romantic comedy anime he'd once watched.
Even the simplest things—swaying leaves on the trees, a stray cat slinking across a rooftop, the hum of distant traffic—seemed exaggerated in detail, like the world had been dialed up just for his eyes.
Huh… I never saw it like this before.
A soft breeze ruffled his hair and tugged at the hem of his uniform. For a second, it felt as though the city itself was alive, conspiring to make the moment cinematic. His heartbeat quickened slightly—not from fear, but from excitement.
He realized… this was what it must have felt like to watch anime from the inside. Every glance, every sound, every small gesture carried a weight and rhythm he had never noticed before. His old life had been blind to it, but now he could see it—the beauty, the energy, the tiny sparks of life everywhere.
Rito's lips curved in a faint, almost incredulous smile. This… this is kind of amazing.
Even the thought of going back to school—something that had once been tedious and nerve-wracking—felt like stepping onto a stage. He could almost hear an opening theme swell in the background, a soundtrack to his first steps back into this familiar-yet-strangely-vivid world.
And, deep down, his reincarnated self felt a tiny flutter of excitement. Today, for the first time, he wasn't just living life. He was experiencing it… like the protagonist of a story he had once only watched.
As Rito walked down the familiar street, his eyes were drawn to the park to his left. The soft rustle of leaves and the faint chirping of birds painted the scene with gentle motion. And then… he saw her.
She moved like a figure pulled straight from a story, separate from the mundane crowd around her. Her long, chestnut hair caught the sunlight, spilling across her shoulders like liquid light. She walked slowly, deliberately, but there was a rhythm to her steps, a subtle grace that made everything around her seem quieter, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Her eyes—large, calm, and impossibly clear—scanned the crowd with a stillness that felt almost otherworldly. There was no panic, no distraction, just… awareness. It was the kind of gaze that seemed to see everything and nothing at once.
The city around her—the playground, the trees swaying gently in the breeze, even the stray papers fluttering across the pavement—felt sharper, more vivid. Colors deepened. Shadows softened. The sunlight painted halos along the edges of her figure, turning the simple act of walking into something cinematic, almost unreal.
[Shiina Mahiru.]
Rito's pulse quickened. He had seen characters like this before, in countless anime he had watched in his previous life. But seeing her now, here, framed by the morning light and the quiet energy of the park, it felt like the fiction had leaked into reality.
She… stands out.
Even the slight sway of her uniform, the subtle tilt of her head, and the calm, deliberate swing of her bag—it all spoke of a quiet elegance that contrasted sharply with the bustling city around her. She wasn't just another student walking home; she was a character, a presence that made the air feel heavier and lighter at the same time.
Rito couldn't look away. His reincarnated perspective latched onto every detail: the curve of her lips, the way her hair shifted with the breeze, and the serene precision of her movements. The world around him had always been ordinary, but through this lens… it felt like a story unfolding in real time.
And for a brief, impossible moment, he felt like the protagonist noticing the "otherworldly" figure that would change the rhythm of his day—like a scene drawn straight from a perfectly framed anime shot.
Rito's breath caught.
"So beautiful…" he muttered under his breath, almost ashamed of how unthinking the words sounded.
Her presence was like a carefully painted frame in motion, every detail crisp, every gesture deliberate. Even the sunlight seemed to favor her, scattering along the edges of her hair and glinting off her uniform buttons.
Then he noticed it: her uniform. The same school dress code as his own.
Wait… she goes to my school?
His mind spun briefly. How could his previous self have missed someone like this? She was cinematic, vivid, undeniable—someone who would have stood out even among the most crowded hallways.
And then he remembered. A week. That was all. His previous life had only been here for a week before falling sick, caught in the blur of awkward introductions and feverish mornings. Of course he hadn't noticed her. He hadn't had the time.
Rito exhaled quietly, almost embarrassed by the thought. His reincarnated self couldn't help comparing the timeline: the missed moments, the blind spots, and the unnoticed beauty that had always been around.
And yet… now he was here. Now he could see.
He forced himself to step lightly, not to disturb the stillness of the moment. His eyes followed her as she walked from the park, serene and unbothered by the world around her. The scene lingered in his mind like a perfect illustration from a novel he'd once read—a fleeting glimpse of someone extraordinary in the midst of ordinary life.
This… this I can notice.
Rito's gaze lingered on her, still caught in the vividness of the moment, when suddenly a boy jogged up from the park path. He bowed quickly, words spilling out in a hurried rush—apologies, confessions, or greetings, Rito couldn't tell—and then waited for a response.
Shiina Mahiru's expression remained calm, almost unreadable, as she listened. The reply came, polite but firm. The boy's shoulders slumped, his head dipping lower, before he turned on his heels and ran off without another word.
Rito blinked, stunned.
…Rejected.
The scene hit differently than the cinematic beauty before it. The boy's rush, the immediate dismissal, the awkward retreat—it all carried a weight that was painfully real.
Rito's chest felt oddly heavy. It wasn't just sympathy or embarrassment for the boy. There was something about witnessing someone's hope crash so quickly… it was demotivating, even in the middle of such a vibrant, anime-like morning.
He had barely moved, his body frozen mid-step, eyes fixed on Mahiru. And then he realized—she had noticed him too.
Her gaze, calm and still as ever, flicked toward his side. Their eyes met, and for a heartbeat, the world felt suspended. The vibrant sunlight, the softly swaying leaves, the distant hum of the city—all of it receded, leaving just the quiet acknowledgment between them.
Rito's mind went blank for a moment, still processing the rejection he had just witnessed and the serene figure of Mahiru standing there.
Why am I staring like an idiot?
And yet, he couldn't look away.