✦ ACT I ✦
Jacklin walked beside me beneath a canopy of lights, her hand slipping naturally into mine.
Her fingers were warm.
Steady.
Tokyo's amusement park glowed like a small, artificial universe—too bright, too cheerful, too determined to pretend tomorrow didn't exist. Music spilled from hidden speakers. Laughter rose and fell in waves. Neon signs blinked in colors that felt louder at night.
Jacklin's blonde hair caught the light as she turned her head, black eyes unreadable even when she smiled.
"How was your day?" she asked.
"As usual—awesome," I replied easily. "But one thing was missing."
She glanced at me. "What's that?"
I smiled without thinking. "You."
She froze for half a second, then blushed hard and looked away, suddenly very interested in a nearby popcorn stand.
"You're stupid," she muttered, changing the subject far too quickly. "You disappear when you swim, you know that? Like the world loses its grip on you."
"That's the only place it doesn't feel crowded," I said.
And I meant it.
The park smelled like sugar and oil and warm metal. Cotton candy drifted past us in pink clouds. Children ran ahead of their parents, shrieking with excitement. Couples leaned together in line, pretending the wait wasn't long.
This is good, I thought.
This is normal.
Normal always felt fragile when I noticed it.
Like something you could only see if you weren't supposed to have it for long. The kind of moment people talked about later, after it was gone, after it had turned into a story instead of a place you could still stand inside.
I didn't say that out loud.
Saying it would have felt like tempting something to listen.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Arata: Don't stay out too late. Big day tomorrow.
"What's that?" Jacklin asked softly.
"Nothing," I said, forcing a smile. "Just my brother. Being annoying."
She squeezed my hand once, like she always did when she caught something I wasn't saying.
I wished—irrationally—that the night could stay exactly like this.
✦ ACT II - Roller Coaster✦
The roller coaster loomed above us like a steel spine, lights tracing its curves against the dark sky.
Jacklin stared up at it, eyes sparkling.
"Oh, we're definitely riding that," she said.
"You screamed last time," I reminded her.
"That was because you didn't warn me," she shot back. "This time I'm prepared."
She wasn't.
The moment the cart lurched forward, her fingers tightened around my arm. As the climb clicked upward, she leaned closer, muttering something under her breath.
Then the drop hit.
Jacklin screamed.
Not fear—pure, unfiltered exhilaration.
Her laughter tangled with the wind, hair whipping wildly as the world flipped upside down. I glanced sideways mid-turn and felt something tighten in my chest.
She's beautiful, I thought.
Ridiculously so.
I wondered, briefly, if she knew how much space she occupied in my life without trying.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not like a promise.
Just the quiet certainty that when she was near, the world felt simpler—less crowded, less loud, less demanding.
I didn't know then how rare that feeling was.
Not in a dramatic way. Not posed. Just… alive.
The ride ended in a rush of breath and laughter. Jacklin stumbled off, legs shaky, eyes shining.
"Okay," she said, breathless. "Maybe I wasn't prepared."
I laughed. "You loved it."
She punched my shoulder lightly. "Don't tell anyone."
✦ ACT III - Games & Prizes ✦
We drifted through rows of game stalls afterward—ring tosses, shooting galleries, dart boards lined with balloons.
Jacklin stopped in front of a shooting game, eyes narrowing.
"I want that one," she said, pointing to a massive teddy bear perched smugly at the top shelf.
I followed her gaze and raised an eyebrow.
"Why don't you try?" I asked, nodding toward the shooting game. "You might surprise yourself."
Jacklin froze.
For a second, she looked genuinely nervous—fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. Then she smiled, small and sheepish, like this wasn't the first time she'd stood in front of something she already knew she'd avoid.
"I don't know how to shoot," she said softly, almost apologetically.
She said it the way someone says they don't need to know how.
Like avoidance, not ignorance.
I didn't question it. At the time, it just felt like one of her harmless edges—something she'd decided long ago not to cross.
Then, after a brief pause, she looked up at me.
"So… Kaien," she added, tugging lightly at my sleeve, "you'll get it for me, right?"
I laughed under my breath.
"You don't even like stuffed animals," I said.
She looked away, cheeks faintly pink.
"I like winning," she muttered.
I took the plastic rifle, tested its weight.
"Watch and learn."
The first shot missed.
Jacklin snorted.
The second clipped the target.
The third landed clean.
By the final round, the stall operator was frowning.
When the teddy bear was finally shoved into Jacklin's arms, she looked genuinely surprised.
"Oh." She hugged it instinctively. "It's… bigger than I expected."
She laughed, burying her face in its fur for a second before peeking at me.
"Thank you."
The way she said it—soft, careful—stayed with me longer than it should have.
✦ ACT IV - Haunted House ✦
The haunted house entrance was a caricature of horror—fake fog, flickering lights, exaggerated screams piped through speakers.
Entrance looked ridiculous.
Fog machines hissed dramatically. Plastic skulls hung from crooked strings. A speaker blasted exaggerated screams that sounded more theatrical than frightening.
Jacklin eyed it with visible interest.
"Oh, we're doing this," she said immediately.
I frowned. "Do we have to?"
She turned to me slowly.
"…Are you scared?"
"No," I said too quickly. "I just think it's kind of—"
The door creaked open.
Darkness swallowed us.
The air inside was colder than expected. The smell of dust and artificial smoke clung to the narrow hallway. Red lights flickered unevenly, shadows stretching and collapsing in ways that made depth hard to judge.
Okay, I told myself.
This is stupid.
Something screeched to our left.
I flinched
Jacklin stopped walking.
"…Did you just—" she began.
Another jump scare exploded in front of us. A figure lunged out of the wall with a sharp metallic shriek.
I swore under my breath and took a step back before I could stop myself.
Jacklin burst out laughing.
Not mocking. Not loud.
Warm.
"Oh my god," she said, covering her mouth. "You actually get scared."
"I don't," I muttered. "That thing came out of nowhere."
She stepped closer, eyes bright with amusement, studying my face like she'd discovered a rare species.
"That was adorable," she said.
"Don't say that."
She slipped her arm through mine, fingers curling comfortably.
"It's fine," she added, smiling. "I'll protect you."
Another shadow moved.
I stiffened.
Jacklin leaned in, her shoulder brushing mine.
"You're allowed to be scared," she said softly. "You don't have to be good at everything."
That sentence stayed with me longer than the screams.
Because it wasn't teasing.
It wasn't pity.
It felt like permission.
I didn't realize then how dangerous it is to trust someone who tells you they'll protect you—without ever telling you from what.
For some reason, that made my chest feel lighter.
When we finally stepped back into the open air, I exhaled slowly, not realizing I'd been holding my breath.
Jacklin didn't let go right away.
She looked up at me, still smiling—gentle, fond.
"I kind of like this version of you," she said.
✦ ACT V - Ferris Wheel ✦
The Ferris wheel creaked softly as our carriage rose above the park.
Below us, lights stretched out like constellations fallen to earth. The noise faded into a distant hum. The city breathed around us.
Jacklin sat quietly beside me, teddy bear on her lap.
"This is nice," she said.
"Yeah."
We reached the top.
The moment didn't feel fragile.
It felt borrowed—
like I was standing inside a future that hadn't fully decided to exist yet.
I told myself it was nerves.
Competition jitters.
Nothing more.
But some part of me—quiet, observant—kept counting moments instead of enjoying them.
As if I was already preparing to remember this.
Jacklin turned toward me, studying my face longer than usual.
"You're really going to win tomorrow," she said. Not a question.
I smiled. "Of course."
For just a moment, something flickered in her eyes—
then she looked away too quickly, fingers tightening around the teddy bear.
She hesitated.
"…After that," she began, then stopped.
"What?" I asked.
She shook her head, forcing a smile. "Nothing. I just—"
Her fingers tightened around the teddy bear.
"I'm glad tonight is like this," she said instead.
So was I.
So was I.
✦ ACT VI - Fireworks ✦
The fireworks began without warning.
Color exploded across the sky—gold, crimson, blue—each burst echoing through the park. People cheered. Children pointed upward.
Jacklin stood close beside me, her face illuminated by shifting light.
She looked… peaceful.
Almost relieved.
As the final fireworks bloomed and faded into drifting smoke, Jacklin stepped back.
"I should go," she said softly.
"Already?"
She nodded. "I don't want to be tired tomorrow."
She hugged me—longer than usual. Tighter.
Her voice was almost playful when she spoke again.
"If you cheat on me," she said sweetly, "I'll make sure you regret surviving."
I laughed. "That depends on you."
She kissed my cheek—quick, dry, like punctuation at the end of a sentence.
"Bye," she said. "See you after your competition."
She turned away before I could respond.
I watched her walk into the crowd, the oversized teddy bear bobbing awkwardly in her arms.
Firework smoke curled through the air, thinning, fading.
Jacklin disappeared.
Something settled in my chest—quiet, shapeless, heavy.
"…Today feels strange," I murmured.
Not wrong.
Just… slightly ahead of me.
And for the first time all day—
I felt uneasy.
I didn't know it yet—
but tonight was the last moment my life belonged to me.
✦ End of Chapter 3 — Borrowed Tomorrow ✦