Chapter Text
Timeline 245
Sunlight glinted off of the knife, the metal blade shining a dim glow onto Zhang Jiale’s cold face. If the light hitting his eyes caused any discomfort, it didn’t show. His hand lightly flicked upwards, his fingers spinning the knife between the knuckles of the hand. It was a little trick he picked up as a kid, only it had been with a pencil then. His gaze never wavered as he stared not at the blade movement, but the chair in front of him. A chair with a body that began to stir.
“Ugh, why does it feel like I got hit by a bu…what the hell?”
Sun Zheping had woken up, but to Zhang Jiale, it didn’t matter. Conscious or not, it didn’t matter. He had to keep his partner inside today, at all costs. The previous timelines hadn’t worked out. One way or another, Old Sun had managed to slip away. Always into the accident. Each time, Zhang Jiale was forced to reset by not announcing his retirement. And each time, he would try again and again to prevent today’s incident. As his eyes met his partner’s, he saw the confusion that plagued his gaze, confusion that shifted to slight anger.
“Lele? Why am I tied up? Why are we in the storage room?”
Zhang Jiale gave no response. Nothing he said ever mattered. Only actions were useful in this scenario. Hence the knife. Hence the rope. Hence the sleeping pills he had slipped in his partner’s drink the night before. This wasn’t the first loop he had used these tools. The knife had been beaten out of his grasp, and the ensuing struggle resulted in his partner’s crippling and his own arrest. The rope hadn’t even slowed the man, his own physical strength more than enough to lift Old Sun up and into Zhang Jiale, resulting in an bitter struggle that had knocked Zhang Jiale unconscious and back to the start of the loop.
The sleeping pills…that had been the first time he realized that drastic actions were needed. In that loop, his friend didn’t wake up, but he did, once again, in the café. The realization of what he had done set in a few loops later, scaring him to the core and keeping him from using physical action against Sun Zheping in fear. But after the last loop, something in Zhang Jiale broke, a hole that drained his emotions and left him only empty inside. That’s why this loop used all of his past attempts, why the knife was there. The blade spun faster in his hands, drawing the bound man’s attention.
“This isn’t funny, Lele. Who set you up to this? Was it the team? Wanting to put a little scare in me as a joke? If so, they should have asked that tyrannical Han. I know you wont hurt m-“
The words hadn’t fully left Sun Zheping’s mouth before a silver light flashed by his face, a red trail appearing on his cheek. The sudden pain caused him to let out a sharp hiss, blood lightly flowing down his face.
“Zhang Jiale, what the fuck?! Are you looking to kill m-“
“Yes”
The singular word was said by Zhang Jiale with such little emotion that it didn’t register with Sun Zheping for a few seconds. It even shocked Zhang Jiale that he could so easily say it. Shaking his head, he pulled out another knife, slowly approaching the chair.
“You never listen, you never believe me. I try to save you and each time you ignore my warnings.”
The second knife began twirling in and out of his fingers, the pace increasing as the distance between the two shortened. The fear in Sun Zheping’s eyes slowly increased as he stared at the stranger before him, and Zhang Jiale couldn’t blame him. He would have scared himself, if he cared in the first place.
“W-wait! Tell me what you want to say. I’ll listen this time I swear!”
The promise made Zhang Jiale pause, giving the bound man a slight glimmer of hope. That hope died an ugly death with the shaking of Zhang Jiale’s head, accompanied with a small chuckle. The knife stopped its movement, the handle now being firmly grasped in his hand.
“Listen? I know you never will.”
As his friend reached down, Sun Zheping knew that he had to fight back in some way. His feet hit the ground in a desperate attempt to lunge at Zhang Jiale, to get the knife out of his hands and even the odds. A single hand stopped his struggle, the strength of the knife wielding man somehow beating his own.
As Zhang Jiale looked down at his partner, his hand began to shake, the knife trembling as well. Seeing this as an opportunity, Sun Zheping began to let out a yell for help. A yell that soon vanished into a wet gurgle as Zhang Jiale’s hand swung down.
“Quiet.”
Zhang Jiale took a step back as he uttered this statement, knowing it fell on deaf ears. He watched as the light dimmed in his friend’s eyes. He knew he should have felt something. Anything. And yet, he was void. As he looked down at the knife in his hands, still dripping with his partner’s life blood, he knew, in some crazed fashion, what he had to do.
A hand rose.
A blade fell.
A scattering of bloody petals painted the wall.
And Zhang Jiale never woke up in that café again.