Chapter 3

The school day passed in the usual blur of monotony, though Haruki found himself distracted more than usual. Every time he opened his sketchbook, he ended up doodling the same thermos he’d given Mei that morning, over and over again.

By the time the final bell rang, Haruki was ready to head straight home and collapse, his energy drained from the weight of the loop. But as he approached the school gates, he stopped in his tracks.

Mei was standing there, leaning casually against the fence with her bag slung over her shoulder. She noticed him almost immediately and straightened up, waving him over.

“You’re late,” she said as he approached.

Haruki raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know we were meeting.”

“Well, I figured we might as well,” Mei replied with a small smile. “You gave me coffee this morning, so I thought I’d say thanks properly.”

Haruki hesitated, unsure how to respond. “Uh, you’re welcome?”

Mei chuckled. “Relax, Haruki. It’s not a big deal.”

He sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Mei tilted her head, her auburn hair falling to one side. “You tell me. You’re the one who’s always trying to ‘figure things out.’”

Haruki shrugged. “I don’t have any ideas. I thought you might.”

“Well, I don’t,” Mei said, pouting slightly.

“Great,” Haruki muttered, turning to walk toward the street. “Guess we’re winging it.”

They walked side by side through the quiet streets, their footsteps echoing faintly against the pavement. Neither of them spoke at first, the silence between them growing heavier with each passing minute.

“So,” Mei said finally, “you seriously didn’t think of anything?”

Haruki glanced at her. “Why would I? Nothing we’ve tried so far has worked.”

“Then maybe try harder,” Mei shot back, her tone sharp.

“Why don’t you try harder?” Haruki retorted, glaring at her.

Mei scowled, her grip tightening on the strap of her bag. “I told you already—I’ve tried everything. At least I didn’t waste three loops doing absolutely nothing.”

Haruki felt his temper flare. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were the queen of solving time loops. My bad for not bowing to your expertise.”

Mei rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Right back at you,” Haruki muttered.

The bickering escalated, their voices growing louder as they rounded a corner. Mei stopped abruptly, turning to face Haruki with a defiant glare.

“You know what your problem is?” she said, jabbing a finger at his chest. “You act like you’re so calm and collected, but you’re just as clueless as I am.”

Haruki’s jaw tightened. “Oh yeah? Well, your problem is you think everything’s a joke. Maybe if you took this seriously for once, we’d actually get somewhere.”

Mei’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Without warning, she reached up and pinched his cheek, hard.

“OW!” Haruki yelped, jerking back.

“That’s for being annoying,” Mei said, her voice cold.

“Oh, really?” Haruki said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, here’s this for being obnoxious.”

He reached out and pinched her cheek in return, matching her grip with equal force.

“Let go,” Mei said, her words muffled by his hand.

“You let go first,” Haruki shot back, refusing to budge.

“No way!”

They stood there, locked in a ridiculous standoff, both glaring at each other as pedestrians walked past, some shooting them confused glances.

“Haruki, this is childish,” Mei said, though her tone lacked conviction.

“You started it,” Haruki replied stubbornly.

Mei huffed, her grip tightening. “You’re such a pain.”

“Ditto.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they both released each other at the same time, stepping back and rubbing their sore cheeks.

“That was stupid,” Mei muttered, her face red—not just from the pinching, but from embarrassment.

“Agreed,” Haruki said, wincing as he touched his cheek. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Deal.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, the tension between them slowly dissolving into something lighter. Mei glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

“You’re lucky I don’t hold grudges,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Haruki muttered, rolling his eyes. “So, what now?”

Mei shrugged, her smile widening. “Let’s just keep walking. Who knows? Maybe we’ll figure something out along the way.”

Haruki sighed but nodded, falling into step beside her as they continued down the street.

As they walked through the bustling streets, the sun dipping lower in the sky, Mei’s pace slowed. She craned her neck, her gaze fixed on something up ahead.

“Haruki, look!” Mei exclaimed suddenly, grabbing his hand to pull his attention.

The contact startled them both. They froze mid-step, her fingers wrapped around his, their faces mere inches apart as they turned toward each other. Time seemed to halt, and Haruki felt his face heat up, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. Mei’s expression mirrored his, her eyes wide with surprise.

Realizing what she’d done, Mei quickly let go, pulling her hand back as if she’d been burned. “Sorry! That was an accident,” she said, her voice a bit too loud.

“Y-yeah,” Haruki stammered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

They both stood there for a moment, avoiding each other’s gaze. Mei broke the silence by clearing her throat and pointing ahead. “Anyway, I was trying to show you that.”

Haruki followed her finger and saw a small, brightly lit arcade nestled between two shops. Neon signs buzzed in the window, advertising claw machines, rhythm games, and rows of cabinets.

“You want to go to an arcade?” Haruki asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mei nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Why not? It looks fun.”

Haruki sighed, crossing his arms. “It’s not going to fix the loop, you know.”

“So what?” Mei said, rolling her eyes. “We’ve already tried all the boring, serious stuff. We might as well enjoy ourselves while we can.”

Haruki hesitated. He wanted to argue, to remind her they were supposed to be solving the loop, but the excitement in her eyes made him pause.

“Fine,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go.”

Inside, the arcade was alive with sound—blaring music, the ding of bells, and the steady clatter of buttons. Mei darted toward a claw machine, her eyes sparkling as she studied the rows of stuffed animals inside.

“This one looks easy,” she said, grabbing the controls.

“You’ve said that every time I’ve seen you play these,” Haruki replied dryly, leaning against the machine.

“Just watch,” Mei said confidently.

She carefully maneuvered the claw over a small plush cat, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration. When she pressed the button, the claw descended, grasping the toy for a brief second before dropping it back onto the pile.

“Ugh!” Mei groaned, stomping her foot.

Haruki smirked. “Easy, huh?”

“Shut up,” Mei muttered, glaring at him.

They moved from game to game, their competitive sides quickly taking over. Mei dominated at the rhythm game, her fingers flying over the buttons with practiced ease, while Haruki crushed her at a racing game, his sharp turns leaving her car spinning out repeatedly.

“You cheated!” Mei accused as they exited the racing game booth.

“Yeah, sure,” Haruki said with a smirk. “You’re just a bad driver.”

Mei huffed but couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

Eventually, Haruki found himself drawn to a simple ticket game. With a steady hand, he hit the jackpot, the machine spitting out a long string of tickets in reward. Mei watched, crossing her arms as Haruki collected his prize.

“Beginner’s luck,” she muttered.

“Uh-huh,” Haruki replied, rolling his eyes.

They approached the prize counter together, scanning the shelves of knickknacks and toys. Behind the counter, a worker in a bright uniform gave them a friendly smile.

“Hey there!” the worker said cheerfully. “What can I get for you two? Oh, and congrats on the jackpot!”

Haruki shrugged. “Just looking.”

The worker’s smile widened as he looked at Mei. “Your girlfriend must be proud!”

Both Haruki and Mei froze, their faces turning a deep shade of red. Mei looked away, her eyes darting to a nearby shelf, while Haruki stammered out a response.

“She’s not—uh, no, we’re not—” He cleared his throat, his voice awkward. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Ah, my mistake,” the worker said, unfazed.

Haruki glanced at Mei, who refused to meet his gaze. His chest tightened slightly, but he shook it off and pointed to the prize counter. “I’ll take that one,” he said, indicating a small teddy bear with a blue bow.

The worker handed it over with a smile, and Haruki turned to Mei.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to her.

Mei blinked, startled. “What?”

“It’s yours,” Haruki said, his voice quieter now. “You like this kind of stuff, right?”

For a moment, Mei stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile spread across her face. She took the bear from his hands, clutching it to her chest.

“Thanks,” she said softly, her tone unusually sincere.

Haruki looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s no big deal.”

Mei held the bear tightly as they left the arcade, the neon lights fading behind them. For the first time in what felt like forever, Haruki didn’t mind being stuck in the loop.

The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon. Haruki and Mei sat on a grassy hill just outside the arcade, the teddy bear perched neatly on Mei’s lap. A soft breeze rustled the trees, and the distant hum of the city seemed to fade, leaving them in peaceful silence.

Mei hugged the teddy bear close, her eyes fixed on the horizon. “You know,” she said, breaking the quiet, “this little guy is growing on me. I think I’ll name him… Hiroshi.”

“Hiroshi?” Haruki repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Mei said, nodding with mock seriousness. “He looks like a Hiroshi.”

Haruki smirked. “It’s a teddy bear. It doesn’t ‘look’ like anything.”

Mei shot him a playful glare. “Well, it’s my bear, so I get to name him. And I like Hiroshi.”

Haruki shook his head but didn’t argue. “Glad you like it,” he said after a moment.

Mei turned to him, her smile softening. “I do. Thanks again, Haruki.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the last rays of sunlight fade into twilight. Haruki leaned back on his hands, his gaze distant.

“You know,” he began, his voice quiet, “as much as I hate this time loop, I can’t say it hasn’t been… different. Better, even.”

Mei blinked, looking at him curiously. “Better? How?”

Haruki hesitated, then sighed. “Before all this, my life was pretty boring. I just went to school, came home, and kept to myself. That was it.”

“Isn’t that normal?” Mei asked, tilting her head.

Haruki shrugged. “Maybe for some people. But I’ve always been… different. I grew up as the weird kid. You know, the quiet one who sits in the corner, doesn’t talk to anyone, and draws all day.”

Mei frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Tell that to my old classmates,” Haruki said with a bitter laugh. “I got picked on a lot for being the odd one out. I didn’t fit in, and I didn’t try to. It’s just how I’ve always been.”

Mei’s expression darkened. “Kids are the worst,” she muttered.

Haruki smirked faintly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

He glanced up at the sky, his voice growing softer. “My mom did her best, though. She worked hard to keep things together after my dad left.”

Mei’s eyes widened. “Your dad left?”

“Yeah,” Haruki said, his tone casual, though his gaze was distant. “He walked out on her when he found out she was pregnant. Guess he wasn’t ready to be a dad.”

Mei hugged the teddy bear tighter, her brows knitting together.

“It was just me and my mom after that,” Haruki continued. “She worked long hours, trying to make ends meet. I hardly saw her some days, but she always made sure I had what I needed. She’s pretty amazing, honestly.”

Mei stayed quiet, her fingers clutching the bear.

“I guess I got used to being on my own,” Haruki admitted. “I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. Honestly, I’m kind of thankful for this stupid time loop.”

Mei turned to him, her eyes wide. “Why would you be thankful?”

“Because for the first time,” Haruki said, glancing at her with a small, genuine smile, “I feel like I actually have a friend.”

Mei’s face softened, her lips trembling slightly. Haruki blinked in confusion as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Mei?” he asked, alarmed.

“Oh my God!” Mei wailed, launching herself at him.

Haruki barely had time to react before she wrapped her arms around him, her face pressed against his shoulder as she sobbed dramatically.

“That’s so SAD!” she cried, her voice muffled.

Haruki froze, his hands hovering awkwardly in the air. “Uh, Mei? Are you okay?”

“No!” Mei sobbed, clinging to him tighter. “Your dad left, and your mom works so hard, and you were bullied—and now you’re stuck in this stupid loop with ME of all people!”

Haruki stared at her, unsure whether to laugh or be concerned. He settled for patting her back awkwardly. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes, it is!” Mei hiccupped, pulling back slightly to look at him with tear-streaked cheeks. “You didn’t deserve any of that, Haruki. None of it!”

Haruki felt his face heat up, caught off guard by her sudden outburst. “Uh… thanks?”

Mei sniffled, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “You’re a good guy, Haruki. You deserve better than all this.”

Haruki sighed, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mei sniffled indignantly.

“Nothing,” Haruki said, shaking his head. “Just… thanks, I guess.”

Mei glared at him half-heartedly before breaking into a watery smile. “You’re welcome.”

As the stars began to dot the sky, they sat together in comfortable silence. Haruki felt strangely lighter, as if some unseen weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Tomorrow,” Mei said suddenly, her voice quiet.

“Hm?” Haruki turned to her.

“Let’s make tomorrow a little better, too,” she said, holding the teddy bear close.

Haruki smiled faintly. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”