Day two—or day one, part two? I no longer knew what to call it. The world felt like a broken record, stuck on repeat. Every conversation, every one of Kenta's jokes, every teacher's explanation, was an echo of yesterday. The only difference was that this time, I was the sole member of the audience who knew the show's ending.
The panic that had gripped me yesterday now began to mix with something else: a heavy sense of responsibility. If I was the only one who knew, then I was the only one who could act.
My analytical brain, the only thing I could rely on, went into overdrive. Variables. I had to change the variables. If all the actions were the same, the result would be the same. I had to do something different, something that would disrupt the flow of fate.
The most logical, simplest, and most terrifying plan I could think of was: to tell her.
I had to talk to Aizawa Nanami.
Just the thought of it made my palms sweat. Me, a background character, approaching the main character? It violated every unwritten rule I had built for myself. But the image of the tragedy at the intersection was far more terrifying than any social awkwardness.
Throughout the school day, I was a restless shadow. I couldn't focus on the lessons. Every time I glanced at her, I no longer saw the goddess of perfection, but a girl unknowingly walking toward her doom.
I had to wait for the right moment. Not in the classroom, too many eyes. Not during lunch break, she was always surrounded by her friends. My only chance was after school, in the emptying hallways.
The final bell rang. My heart felt like it had dropped into my stomach. It was time.
I saw her walk out of the classroom with Sasaki Rina and the others. I waited a few seconds, then followed from a safe distance. My heart was pounding so hard I was afraid she could hear it.
Near the school gate, her group paused for a moment to say their goodbyes. This was my chance. As Nanami turned and started walking alone, I took a deep breath and forced my legs to move.
"A-Aizawa-san!"
My voice came out hoarse and strange. She stopped, then turned around. Her face showed a flicker of surprise, which was quickly replaced by that familiar, cold expression.
"What is it?" she asked, her tone flat and emotionless.
I swallowed hard. "I... I just wanted to tell you something."
She raised an eyebrow, waiting. Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag.
"This afternoon," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Please, don't take the intersection near the bookstore. There's... there's danger waiting for you there."
Silence enveloped us for a few seconds. The expression on her face shifted from cold to... disgust.
"What do you mean?" she hissed. "Are you stalking me? You know my route home?"
"No! It's not like that! I just..." I panicked. The words I had prepared in my head vanished instantly. "I just know you'll get hurt if you go that way. Please, believe me."
She laughed. A short, cynical laugh, devoid of any humor. It hit me harder than a slap.
"Believe you?" she repeated, her eyes looking at me as if I were the most disgusting insect on earth. "After the pageant incident, you think I'd believe any of your nonsense? This must be one of your stupid jokes, right? What is this? Are you trying to humiliate me?"
"No! It's real!" I pleaded desperately.
"Enough," she cut in sharply. "I don't know what your game is, Itsuki-san, but I'm not interested. Don't ever approach me or talk to me again. You're disgusting."
With those final, piercing words, she turned and walked away quickly, leaving me alone in the hallway. I could only stand there, frozen, feeling the stares of a few other students who happened to be passing by.
I failed.
I failed completely. Not only did I fail to save her, but I had also deepened her hatred and given her a new reason to despise me.
That afternoon, I didn't go home. I just sat on a park bench far from that intersection, hugging my knees. I couldn't bear to see it again. But I knew it happened. The sound of ambulance sirens wailing in the distance was my confirmation.
That night, as the darkness pulled me back once more, what I felt wasn't shock.
It was a thick, cold despair.
Beep. Beep. Bip.
I opened my eyes. Monday, October 22nd. Act three had just begun.