For several seconds, Shin'ya simply stood there.
The word mystery lingered in his mind.
He looked at the photograph again.
The boy's face.
The name.
The date.
Something still didn't sit right.
"..."
Shin'ya frowned.
There was a strange sensation in the back of his mind.
Not a memory exactly.
More like the feeling of standing in front of a locked door and knowing there was something behind it.
He had seen this boy before.
He knew that much.
But where?
Shin'ya rubbed the side of his head.
"Come on..."
He stared at the photograph.
"Think."
He closed his eyes.
The world around him faded into the background.
The traffic.
The wind.
The distant voices.
Everything became quieter.
He began sorting through his memories.
Six months ago.
What had happened?
Monday.
School.
Tuesday.
Homework.
Wednesday...
Nothing.
Just ordinary days.
He remembered sitting in classrooms.
He remembered eating lunch with classmates.
He remembered complaining about how boring certain lessons were.
He remembered going home.
Playing games.
Staying up later than he should have.
Getting yelled at for staying up later than he should have.
Normal things.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing that screamed missing person.
Shin'ya opened his eyes.
"...Maybe I'm looking too far back."
He looked at the date again.
Six months.
He tried narrowing it down.
Not the entire month.
Not every day.
Just the week surrounding it.
His eyebrows tightened.
Then—
A flash.
Rain.
Shin'ya's eyes widened slightly.
"...Rain."
He closed his eyes again.
The memory slowly returned.
It had been raining heavily that morning.
Not the gentle kind.
The kind that turned the streets into mirrors and made everyone arrive at school looking like they'd just survived a natural disaster.
Shin'ya remembered standing beneath the school entrance, shaking water from his umbrella.
His shoes were soaked.
His socks were soaked.
His mood was soaked.
He had been late.
Again.
He remembered checking the time on his phone before stuffing it back into his pocket.
"Great."
He'd muttered something about how the weather had personally decided to ruin his morning.
Then he'd noticed someone nearby.
The same boy.
The one on the poster.
He had been standing beneath the covered walkway, staring at his phone.
Shin'ya hadn't paid much attention to him at first.
Until the boy suddenly looked up.
"Arata."
Shin'ya turned.
"Hm?"
"You know where the library is?"
Shin'ya blinked.
"The library?"
"Yeah."
The boy had held up a sheet of paper.
"I've got to return these, but I can't remember whether it's on the first or second floor."
Shin'ya remembered staring at him.
Then at the paper.
Then back at him.
"...You're asking me?"
"You're always around here."
"That's because I'm lost half the time."
The boy had laughed.
"Fair."
Shin'ya had pointed toward the building.
"Second floor. Left side."
"Thanks."
"No problem."
And that should have been the end of it.
Except it wasn't.
Because a few minutes later, Shin'ya had seen him again.
This time, the boy was standing near the school gate.
Talking to someone.
A man.
Shin'ya didn't know who he was.
He had assumed he was a relative.
Maybe an older brother.
Maybe a teacher.
Maybe someone from the neighborhood.
He hadn't cared enough to ask.
He'd simply walked past.
Then—
The boy had called after him.
"Arata!"
Shin'ya turned around.
"What?"
"You going this way?"
"Yeah."
"Mind if I walk with you?"
Shin'ya had shrugged.
"Sure."
They'd walked together for a while.
Nothing important.
Just meaningless conversation.
Homework.
Teachers.
The weather.
The upcoming exams.
At one point, the boy had complained about how his parents were constantly worrying about him getting home on time.
Shin'ya had laughed.
"Sounds annoying."
"You say that like your parents don't do the same thing."
"They do."
"Exactly."
The conversation had continued.
Eventually, they reached the intersection where they had to split up.
The boy had waved.
"See you tomorrow."
Shin'ya had raised a hand.
"Later."
And that was it.
Or at least...
That's what Shin'ya had thought.
He opened his eyes.
"...Wait."
His expression slowly changed.
The memory hadn't ended there.
There had been something else.
Something he hadn't thought about in months.
The next morning, Shin'ya had arrived at school and noticed something strange.
The boy hadn't shown up.
At first, nobody cared.
Students were absent all the time.
Then the second day passed.
Still nothing.
Then the third.
Shin'ya remembered asking someone where he was.
Nobody knew.
Then, sometime during the week, there had been a message sent through the school.
The student had been reported missing.
Shin'ya remembered the feeling of confusion.
Missing?
He had immediately thought about their conversation.
About the man he'd seen near the gate.
And something had bothered him.
He couldn't explain why.
So he'd gone to a teacher.
He had mentioned the man.
Not because he'd suspected him.
Not because he'd known anything.
He had simply remembered seeing someone unfamiliar talking to the student shortly before he disappeared.
The teacher had listened.
Then asked questions.
Shin'ya had answered what little he knew.
Where he'd seen them.
What time it had been.
Which direction they'd gone.
Nothing more.
But that information had apparently mattered.
The school contacted the boy's family.
The police were informed.
And later, Shin'ya had learned that the man he'd seen wasn't a relative.
He had been someone the boy had met online.
Someone who had been trying to lure him away from the area.
The police had managed to identify him before the situation became worse.
The boy had been found.
Alive.
Shin'ya remembered barely thinking about it afterward.
To him, it had just been one of those strange events that happened and then disappeared beneath the endless pile of ordinary life.
He hadn't saved the boy.
He hadn't fought anyone.
He hadn't done anything impressive.
He had simply remembered seeing a stranger.
And told a teacher.
That was it.
Shin'ya slowly opened his eyes.
The missing-person poster was still in front of him.
His expression had gone completely still.
"..."
He looked at the photograph.
Then at the date.
Then back at the photograph.
"So that's what happened."
His voice was barely audible.
"In my world..."
He swallowed.
"...he never went completely missing."
Shin'ya's fingers slowly curled.
"Because I remembered that guy."
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
It wasn't pride.
It wasn't happiness.
It wasn't even sadness.
It was something much stranger.
The realization that something he'd considered completely meaningless...
Had mattered.
A tiny decision.
A tiny memory.
A conversation he'd probably forgotten about until now.
And yet, here...
That tiny thing had never happened.
Because he had never been there.
Shin'ya stared at the poster.
"...If I hadn't been there..."
He stopped.
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
The answer was right in front of him.
This world wasn't simply missing him as a person.
It was missing every little consequence of his existence.
Every conversation.
Every mistake.
Every stupid decision.
Every coincidence.
Every person he'd happened to meet.
Every tiny action he'd never thought twice about.
They were all gone.
Shin'ya slowly stepped back.
"...How many things did I change without even knowing?"
The question hung in the air.
He looked down the street.
The same streets he'd walked countless times.
The same buildings.
The same signs.
The same world.
Yet suddenly, everything felt much larger.
He wasn't just looking at an alternate version of his life.
He was looking at a world where countless small pieces had shifted simply because one piece had been removed.
Him.
Shin'ya exhaled.
"...That's terrifying."
He looked back at the poster.
Then gave it a small, almost apologetic smile.
"Guess you got lucky in my world."
He turned away.
"Sorry."
His footsteps continued down the sidewalk.
---
By the time Shin'ya noticed how dark the sky had become, the town had already begun settling into the evening.
Streetlights flickered on one after another.
Cars passed beneath them.
Windows across the neighborhood slowly began glowing with warm yellow light.
People were heading home.
Shin'ya walked without much purpose.
His thoughts were still circling around the same realization.
He had spent the entire day trying to understand this world.
At first, he'd thought it was familiar.
Then he'd thought it might be his world.
Then he'd discovered the differences.
His house.
His mother.
His school.
The missing student.
And now...
He finally understood the real difference.
This world wasn't a copy of his life.
It was a life that had developed without him.
And somehow...
That thought hurt more than he expected.
He stopped beside a quiet street.
Across the road, a family walked together.
A father.
A mother.
A child.
The child was complaining about something.
The father laughed.
The mother shook her head.
Shin'ya watched them for a moment.
Then quietly looked away.
"...Normal."
He continued walking.
He eventually found himself back near the park.
The same park he'd eaten at earlier.
The benches were mostly empty now.
The playground had fallen silent.
A cold breeze passed through the trees.
Shin'ya sat down.
He leaned back.
His eyes drifted toward the sky.
"...I had a pretty normal day."
He smiled faintly.
"That's probably the weirdest part."
He counted the things he'd done.
"I ate."
One finger.
"I walked around."
Another.
"I went to school."
Another.
"I saw my house."
Another.
"I nearly got emotional."
He paused.
"...Okay, that one doesn't count."
He looked down.
His smile slowly faded.
It really had been normal.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he'd experienced the kind of day he'd once taken completely for granted.
No monsters.
No battles.
No strange powers.
No impossible situations.
Just food.
Walking.
School.
Home.
People.
Normal life.
He had wanted that.
For so long.
And now...
He had it.
Sort of.
Shin'ya stared at his hands.
"...I could stay."
The thought came quietly.
He didn't say it as a joke.
He didn't laugh.
He simply considered it.
He could probably survive here.
He knew the language.
He knew the culture.
He understood the technology.
He knew the streets.
He could find work eventually.
He could rent a place.
He could live.
Maybe not as Shin'ya Arata.
But as someone else.
Someone who belonged nowhere...
Yet could eventually build something here.
His eyes drifted toward the town.
He could do that.
He could stay.
He could have a normal life.
Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
Then he remembered his mother.
The way she had walked past him.
He remembered his classroom.
That empty seat.
The missing student.
The fact that every familiar person was familiar...
But not his.
His fingers tightened.
"...No."
He looked down.
"If I stayed..."
He paused.
"...I'd keep looking for myself in places where I don't exist."
His voice became quieter.
"And I'd keep hoping someone would remember me."
He closed his eyes.
"That's not going to happen."
The thought hurt.
But it was true.
This world could give him familiarity.
It could give him food.
A bed.
School.
A routine.
Maybe even happiness.
But it couldn't give him back what he'd lost.
Because the version of him who belonged here...
Had never existed.
Shin'ya slowly stood.
The park had become almost completely silent.
He looked toward the distant town one last time.
"...I think I've had enough."
He turned toward the secluded patch of grass beneath the large tree.
He walked there and sat down.
His hand rested on the Ketsugai.
The blade remained hidden beneath his hoodie.
He looked at it for a moment.
Then sighed.
"...So."
His gaze lifted toward the stars.
"Time to find out where I end up next."
He hesitated.
His fingers stopped moving.
"..."
He didn't actually want to sleep.
That realization surprised him.
Normally, sleep was simply something that happened.
Close his eyes.
Lose consciousness.
Wake up somewhere else.
Simple.
But tonight...
He knew exactly what he was giving up.
A normal day.
A familiar town.
A familiar country.
A familiar sky.
He had only just gotten them back.
Even if they weren't truly his.
He lay down slowly.
The grass pressed against his back.
He stared upward.
"What if the next place is worse?"
The question came quietly.
"What if it's another battlefield?"
He frowned.
"What if I wake up injured?"
He paused.
"...Again."
He sighed.
"And knowing my luck..."
He looked toward the sky.
"...That's probably the more realistic option."
A small laugh escaped him.
But it faded quickly.
Shin'ya closed his eyes.
He could stay awake.
He could keep walking.
He could avoid sleeping.
Maybe he'd get another normal day.
Maybe another week.
Maybe he could convince himself that this world was enough.
But eventually...
He'd still have to face the same truth.
This wasn't his home.
And the longer he stayed...
The harder it would become to leave.
Shin'ya slowly exhaled.
"...If I stay awake because I'm afraid of where I'll wake up..."
He opened his eyes.
"...then I'm just running away."
The thought sat heavily in his mind.
He had already run enough.
From battlefields.
From enemies.
From questions.
From memories.
He wasn't going to run from sleep too.
His expression softened.
"...Besides."
He looked at the stars.
"Maybe I'll get lucky."
A pause.
"...Probably not."
He smiled faintly.
"But maybe."
Shin'ya rested one arm beneath his head.
The sounds of the town slowly faded into the distance.
His breathing became slower.
His eyelids grew heavier.
Before finally closing his eyes, he whispered—
"...Goodbye."
He wasn't sure whether he meant the town.
The house.
His mother.
Or the strange version of normal life he'd found here.
Maybe all of them.
His eyes closed.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then his breathing became steady.
His consciousness slowly drifted away.
And once again...
Shin'ya slept.