Shin'ya continued walking.
He wasn't really sure where he was going.
At this point, he was simply moving.
The streets were becoming increasingly familiar with every step, yet somehow every familiar sight made the strange reality around him feel even more surreal.
A convenience store on the corner.
A vending machine beside a telephone pole.
A bicycle leaning against a fence.
And then—
"Wait."
Shin'ya's attention shifted toward a figure rushing down the sidewalk.
A student.
He wore a familiar school uniform, his bag hanging from one shoulder as he hurried along while repeatedly glancing at the watch on his wrist.
He was clearly late.
The student briefly looked toward Shin'ya.
Their eyes met.
For perhaps half a second.
Then the student immediately looked away and continued running.
Shin'ya watched him disappear around the corner.
"...Dude."
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
"That looks exhausting."
A tiny grin appeared on his face.
"Man, it feels amazing not having to go to school."
He stretched his arms behind his head as he walked.
"While all those fools are worrying about studying, exams, homework, assignments, and whatever other academic suffering they've invented..."
He looked toward the blue sky.
"...I'm out here eating."
He counted on his fingers.
"Sleeping."
Another finger.
"Thriving."
Another.
"Occasionally getting dragged into extremely questionable situations."
He paused.
"...And occasionally dimension hopping."
He immediately lowered his hand.
"Ahem."
"Let's not talk about that."
He walked another few steps.
Then stopped.
"...Wait."
His eyes slowly widened.
"I just got an idea."
A mischievous smile appeared on his face.
"Maybe I should visit my school."
He immediately nodded to himself.
"Yeah."
"That'd actually be pretty fun."
He imagined walking through the school corridors again.
Seeing the classrooms.
Seeing students complaining about exams.
Watching teachers desperately attempt to maintain order.
"...Man."
"I haven't seen that place in forever."
He continued walking.
"My school will definitely let outsiders in."
He paused.
"...Probably."
Another pause.
"...Maybe."
He scratched his cheek.
"Okay, they might have security."
He thought about it for another second.
"But I'm fourteen."
"How suspicious can I possibly look?"
He looked down at himself.
Gray hoodie.
Black trousers.
White sneakers.
A sword hidden somewhere around his waist.
"..."
"Never mind."
He continued walking anyway.
Then a single thought suddenly struck him.
"...Why do I keep saying 'my' school?"
His smile faded slightly.
He looked ahead.
"It's not mine here."
Silence.
Shin'ya stopped walking.
The joke he'd been about to make disappeared before it could even reach his mouth.
"..."
Emotional damage.
He sighed.
"Okay."
"That one hurt."
He stood there for a moment before shaking his head.
"Whatever."
"Let's just go."
---
The school eventually came into view.
Shin'ya slowed.
The familiar gates stood exactly where he remembered them.
A large school building stretched beyond the entrance, its pale walls illuminated by the afternoon sun. Rows of windows reflected the sky, while trees lined the courtyard and swayed gently in the breeze.
Students moved through the entrance in small groups.
Some were talking.
Some were carrying textbooks.
Some were clearly trying to finish homework at the last possible second.
And somewhere in the distance—
"WAIT! THE BELL!"
A student sprinted across the courtyard.
Shin'ya stared.
"...Yep."
"Definitely a school."
He couldn't help smiling.
He approached the entrance.
A few students glanced at him.
Shin'ya ignored them.
The real problem was the Ketsugai.
He couldn't exactly walk into school with a dark, suspicious-looking blade hanging from his waist.
Especially after lying about taking Kendo.
That would be slightly counterproductive.
"...Okay."
He looked around.
No teachers nearby.
No security guard.
Perfect.
Shin'ya quietly shifted the Ketsugai beneath his hoodie, adjusting the fabric until the weapon was completely concealed.
It wasn't exactly comfortable.
But it was better than explaining why a fourteen-year-old was carrying an extremely unnatural sword into school.
"Alright."
He took a breath.
"Act normal."
He stepped through the gate.
Nothing happened.
No alarms.
No guards.
No dramatic explosion.
"...Wow."
He glanced around.
"That was easier than expected."
He entered the courtyard.
And immediately felt something strange.
He'd expected excitement.
Maybe nostalgia.
Maybe even happiness.
Instead...
There was an uncomfortable emptiness sitting somewhere beneath his ribs.
Because the school looked exactly the same.
The same building.
The same courtyard.
The same windows.
The same trees.
Yet nobody here knew him.
Nobody was waiting for him.
Nobody would turn around and say his name.
Shin'ya slowly looked toward the classroom buildings.
"...Weird."
He'd spent so long wanting to return home.
And now that he'd found something almost identical to home...
It felt like he'd walked into a photograph.
Everything was there.
Except him.
"Well..."
He forced a small smile.
"Let's at least see how different things are."
He stepped inside.
The familiar smell of polished floors, paper, chalk, and cafeteria food immediately hit him.
Shin'ya stopped.
"...Oh."
For some reason, that tiny combination of smells hit harder than the entire town had.
He remembered sitting in classrooms.
Complaining about homework.
Looking at the clock.
Waiting for lunch.
Getting bored during lectures.
The painfully slow march toward the end of the school day.
Normal things.
Ordinary things.
Things he hadn't realized were precious until they were gone.
Shin'ya slowly exhaled.
"...I really did miss this."
A group of students walked past him.
One of them glanced at him.
Another whispered something.
Shin'ya ignored them and continued down the hallway.
He knew exactly where he was going.
Or at least...
He thought he did.
Right turn.
Straight corridor.
Staircase.
Second floor.
Another hallway.
He stopped in front of a classroom.
His old classroom.
Shin'ya stared through the window in the door.
Students were sitting inside.
A teacher was writing something on the board.
Someone near the back was trying not to fall asleep.
Someone else was quietly passing a note.
Everything was painfully normal.
Shin'ya smiled.
"...Of course."
He leaned slightly closer to the window.
"This place hasn't changed at all."
Then he noticed something.
An empty seat.
Near the window.
His old seat.
Or rather—
The seat that would have been his.
He stared at it.
For a few seconds, he didn't move.
Then he quietly laughed.
"...Guess someone else gets the good seat."
He straightened.
"Good for them."
He turned away from the classroom.
And for once...
He didn't make a joke.
He simply continued walking.
Because he had already learned something important.
This wasn't his home.
Not anymore.
But maybe...
He could still enjoy seeing it.
Even if, in this world—
Shin'ya Arata had never existed.