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He wakes up with his head resting on his desk. His English textbook is opened up in front of him, turned to a unit on Shakespeare sonnets—oh god how Gakushu hates Iambic pentameter with a passion—
He jumps to his feet and his head spins for a moment so he sits back down. He really should have slept more, but he’d stayed up past 4 a.m. studying until he fell asleep at his desk.
Something that is becoming more and more common as this year goes by.
Gakushu gets himself dressed in his practiced methodical manner—first socks then shirt and trousers—grabs some coffee and heads out the door, locking it from the outside. His father already left for the school, so it’s just him left.
He stares up at the sky for a moment. It’s 7 a.m, meaning that it’s still dark, the sun just beginning to rise.
It’s been nearly a year, and yet he hasn’t been able to get used to the strange shape of the moon. The exaggerated crescent shape has never been natural.
Gakushu sighs, grabs the strap of his book bag, and carries on. His polished shoes make a steady—tap—tap—tap—noise as he walks down the sidewalk. It’s not a long walk to Kunugigoaka, but his feet ache by the time he makes it to the gates. These dress shoes are really not made for walking.
At the gates, Gakushu changes his demeanor. He straightens his back, neatens his hair, and wipes the exhaustion off his face.
Kunugigaoka is his father’s kingdom, and Gakushu must play the perfect role of the prince.
The hallways are bland, full of grey uniforms and empty faces. Hollow voices echo down the halls, and even the laughter sounds harsh.
Gakushu smiles mechanically, throwing out “Good morning” and “You look pretty today” like candy. But the girls react a bit differently than they do usually.
He doesn’t realize why until a girl with a shy smile approaches Gakushu and hands him a love letter—that’s when it hits him.
Today’s February 14th.
Valentine’s Day.
Gakushu accepts it the way he always does, letting her down gently.
She frowns a little, but Gakushu manages to cheer her up, and that spark comes back to her eyes.
Gakushu tosses the love letter in his book bag before sinking to his seat. This is exhausting.
Having all these people look up to you, having to manage your own emotions as well as being aware of everyone else—it’s so tiring.
Gakushu doesn’t know why he feels this way lately. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way. After all, his third year of junior high has almost come to an end. His second semester finals were—rather bad, if he’s being honest. With everything that happened with coming in second place and being beaten by his father. But things became better after that, didn’t they? His father is being nicer. Gakushu even got over his rivalry with E class, and all of A class is a lot less tense now.
But the past has consequences. And Gakushu still has to deal with the aftermath.. Sometimes when his father moves his hand too fast, Gakushu flinches. When Ren throws an arm around him, Gakushu recoils. Even though his father says it’s okay for Gakushu to take it easy, they both know his father doesn’t really mean it.
He still expects Gakushu to be the best, to get the top scores. He still expects perfection and obedience.
Somehow, despite everything becoming better, Gakushu feels more trapped than ever.
The bell rings, and with that class begins. Gakushu takes notes, his fingers moving swiftly keeping up with the teacher. But his mind is in another place, staring out at the sunrise. The moon has disappeared by now, and the sky is painted orange and pink. It would be pretty, if not for the dark clouds visible in the distance.
Just as he completes that thought, there’s a loud bang at the door.
Gakushu jumps up.
“I’ll check it out, sensei.” He says, heading towards the door. It’s his responsibility as class rep, after all.
“Go ahead, Asano. It’s probably a late student...” the teacher says, absently.
Gakushu frowns. Something about that statement seems off.
Gakushu pulls the handle of the door, when it hits him.
There’s not a single student absent today.
Every desk is filled.
It can’t be a late student.
The door is opened, and Gakushu hears a loud bang and then a recoil—-
There’s a scream—
And then everything goes black.
———————-
He wakes up with his head resting on his desk. His English textbook is opened up in front of him, turned to a unit on Shakespeare sonnets—oh god how Gakushu hates Iambic pentameter with a passion—
Gakushu stumbles back, looking around the room with wide eyes.
His heart is thumping against his throat, breath coming out in short gasps.
What’s going on?
Gakushu sucks in air desperately, raising a shaky hand to turn on his phone.
February 14th. 6:13 a.m.
He pulls aside his heavy curtains, staring at the sky.
The sun is just beginning to rise and the moon is still out.
No. This can’t be.
He squeezes his eyes shut, the memories of what just happened playing on repeat inside his head.
Confusion weighs heavily on his mind.
“That was just a dream.” Gakushu says out loud, trying to convince himself of it, “That is the logical answer. I was dreaming. I am now awake. I will go to school.”
But the anxious feeling in his chest only gets stronger as he continues going through his morning rituals.
He gets himself dressed in his practiced methodical manner—first socks then shirt and trousers—
(This feels so familiar)
His polished shoes make a steady—tap—tap—tap—noise as he walks down the sidewalk. His feet ache.
(Too familiar)
He straightens up in front of the gate, and tries to wipe the confusion off his face. He takes a deep breath.
He keeps his head down as he walks through the halls—the same hollow laughter, the strange reactions of girls as he greets them and compliments them.
And there it is. The girl with the shy smile.
She tries to hand him her love letter but Gakushu is frozen.
Just a coincidence. That’s all.
He takes a shaky breath and refuses the love letter.
He doesn’t bother trying to comfort her, too shaken to even care.
“Asano? Are you feeling alright? You look a bit pale.” Ren asks when Gakushu enters the classroom. His concern is written across his face.
“I’m fine.” Gakushu forces a smile for Ren.
Ren frowns, but the teacher calls class then so he’s forced to return to his seat.
Gakushu is restless the entire hour. He’s constantly checking his watch, hoping the hour will end soon.
Every minute is agony, and by the time Gakushu hears the knock on the door, Gakushu is startled, jerking his knee into his desk hard.
He grits his teeth and curses under his breath.
“I’ll get it.” Ren says, looking at Gakushu with concern.
“No, really it’s fine. I can get it.” Gakushu tries, but it’s too late, Ren is already standing up—
The door is pulled open, and the sound he hears next is a sound that will echo in his head for the rest of his life.
A gunshot.
And the one holding the gun is the shy girl who gave Gakushu the love letter this morning.
And she just shot Ren in the chest.
Ren crumples to the ground, and there’s blood—so much blood—
Gakushu’s mind flashes back to the exchange students—
No.
This can’t— no. Please no—
“Ren!” Gakushu runs up to him, despite the girl pointing the gun at him—
Ren’s eyes are lifeless, and Gakushu feels numb. There’s a buzzing noise in his head and everything seems to go still for a moment.
Ren is dead.
There’s more screaming in the background and a shout of, “Watch out Asano!”
Then he hears a gunshot, and the darkness takes him once again.
——————
He wakes up with his head resting on his desk. His English textbook is opened up in front of him, turned to a unit on Shakespeare sonnets—oh god how Gakushu hates Iambic pentameter with a passion—
Then the memories hit him.
Gakushu barely makes it to the bathroom in time, dry heaving into the toilet. His chest feels tight, and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
It’s February 14th. 6:13 a.m.
His breathing quickens and he sinks to the floor. The image of Ren lying lifeless on the ground keeps playing over and over again in his mind and he can’t get it to stop. Despair wraps it’s claws around Gakushu’s throat and he can’t breath—
“Asano-kun?” His father is standing there at the door of the bathroom, looking down at him—
Gakushu flinches back.
“What’s wrong?” His father tries, “Are you having a panic attack?”
Gakushu manages to nod.
“Okay. I need to get ready for school, but you can stay home for today, alright?” His father says, a bit awkwardly.
Gakushu nods again, and his father leaves, after giving him one last glance.
Maybe he should be bitter about the fact that his father cares more about not being late to work than his own son, but with everything else racing through his mind, he barely pays attention to that.
He ends up lying in bed for the rest of the morning, in utter misery. He’s far too distraught to do anything else other than cry, his thoughts racing.
He’s stuck living this day over and over again, like a nightmare that never ends.
At 8:45 A.M, his phone starts exploding with notifications.
The Kunugigaoka school shooting is all over the news. Every student in 3-A is dead except for him.
Gakushu blinks away his tears. He can’t cry now. He knew this was going to happen.
He knows what he has to do.
Gakushu walks over to his father’s room, where he knows his father keeps a gun. It’s locked in a safe on the bottom of his closet, but Gakushu knows how to pick a lock.
The gun is heavy in his hands, and Gakushu’s fingers are still unsteady as he presses the gun to his temple.
“Gakushu. Stop. Please. Put the gun down.” Gakushu turns his head to meet the eyes of his father.
The man is pale, looking far more solemn than he ever has in his life. Gakushu feels bad for him, but that doesn’t change what he’s going to do.
“A bit too late father. I love you. Goodbye.”
Gakushu pulls the trigger and he welcomes the black that fills his vision.
—————
He wakes up with his head resting on his desk. His English textbook is opened up in front of him, turned to a unit on Shakespeare sonnets—oh god how Gakushu hates Iambic pentameter with a passion—
Gakushu takes a deep breath, pushing down all the raging emotions.
He has something he needs to do.
He picks up his phone and dials the police first.
“There’s going to be a school shooting at Kunugigaoka Junior high today.”
“Kunugigaoka? What are you talking about? Is this some sort of prank. You do know that Kunugigoaka is a prestigious school, it’s not the kind of school where kids bring in guns. Stop wasting the police’s time.”
The police hang up on him, and Gakushu punches the wall, cursing under his breath.
But he doesn’t have time to get upset. He dials his father next.
It goes straight to voicemail.
That means he has to go there in person.
He gets himself dressed in his practiced methodical manner—first socks then shirt and trousers—
Screw the order, he’s in a rush. He goes without socks and his tie is messy.
His polished shoes make a steady—tap—tap—tap—noise as he walks down the sidewalk. His feet ache.
He doesn’t care, he walks faster.
He doesn’t pause in front of the gates, just keeps walking past, not caring that he’s getting strange looks.
He walks past the sea of grey, and up the flight of stairs, heading towards the Principal’s office. He’s too focused on where he’s going that he doesn’t even notice when he collides with a warm body.
The two of them fall to the ground, and Gakushu’s nose bumps into a skull, his legs getting crushed by the weight of the other’s knees.
Gakushu pulls himself out of the tangled heap they’re in, and comes face to face with golden eyes.
There’s something urgent in those eyes, and somehow, Gakushu just knows.
“Ah, Asano. I was looking for you. Look, sorry and all that, but it’s really important. There’s going to be a—“
“—School shooting at the end of the first hour. I know.” Gakushu finishes for him, breathless.
Akabane and him stare at each other for a moment, the silent understanding passing between them.
“Come on, let’s get to the principal’s office.”
But the secretary tells them that the principal isn’t there. Gakushu is about to press further, but Akabane pulls him aside.
“I don’t know what’s going on with this time loop, but somehow, I’m starting to get the feeling that we can’t get outside intervention. We aren’t allowed to.” Akabane says, his voice hushed.
Gakushu bites his lip, hit with the sinking realization that Akabane is right, “I tried calling the police this morning and they didn’t believe me.”
“I told my teacher and he didn’t believe me either, he thought it was just a prank.” Akabane says, bitterly. “We can’t rely on the others. We need to fix this ourselves.”
Gakushu exhales, “Alright. Okay. We can do this.” But his voice is shaky, and his palms are sweaty.
“You were there, weren’t you? You were in class when it happened.” Akabane realizes.
Gakushu doesn’t answer, the flashbacks of Ren covered in blood too overwhelming for him to respond—
“Hey, Ace-kun, you with me?” Akabane puts a hand on Gakushu’s shoulder, “Come on. All we have to do is stop Tsuchiya-san before she shoots up the school. It’ll be fine.”
So that’s her name. Gakushu didn’t even bother learning her name. Somehow, it just makes her more real.
It makes things too personal.
Gakushu forces himself to nod, and then Akabane and him head off towards 3-A.
“Let’s hide here behind the corner so we can jump out and tackle her when she heads to the door.” Gakushu whispers.
Akabane frowns, from where he’s kneeling besides Gakushu.
“We have to be careful. Taking down someone with a gun is risky. I’ll attack her first, you stay back here unless I need backup.” Akabane tells him.
Gakushu frowns, “Why can’t I attack her?”
“Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this but fuck it. 3-E has been training to be assassins.”
Gakushu startles.
“You—what?” He hisses, “What do you mean, assassins?”
So Akabane spends the rest of the time waiting by explaining the events going on in his class. Gakushu has way too many questions about everything, which only lengthens the process.
“No wonder 3-E has been performing so well this year.” Gakushu says, in awe.
“You’re taking this surprisingly well. Most people wouldn’t believe me, but you—somehow I always knew you’d believe me. No matter what. That’s why I came to find you this morning, Ace-kun. You were the only person I trusted enough.”
Gakushu feels a strange stirring in his heart at that.
“You trust me? But you barely know me.”
“I know, right? But somehow...I still trust you. Your mind works in a similar way to mine. You’re the only one who can understand me.” Akabane smiles his little half smile, and for a moment, Gakushu forgets everything that’s going on. He forgets his fear and his trauma. All he sees in that moment is Akabane’s smile.
“I suppose, I trust you too. Even if I really shouldn’t.” Gakushu says, softly.
A moment passes in silence, with just the two of them pressed against the wall, shoulder to shoulder. Their breaths are synchronized, and the silence is comforting.
But then it’s time.
“I see her.” Akabane whispers, “I’m going to get her.”
Then Akabane leaps—and wow—Gakushu didn’t know he could move that fast—
But Tsuchiya flinches back, fumbling with her gun—
Akabane won’t be able to make it in time—
No—
All of a sudden, everything seems to be moving in slow motion.
Gakushu jumps forward, shoving Akabane out of the way—-
And then the bullet is shooting towards him—
Akabane’s voice—
Then everything goes black.
———————————
He wakes up with his head resting on his desk. His English textbook is opened up in front of him, turned to a unit on Shakespeare sonnets—oh god how Gakushu hates Iambic pentameter with a passion—
Gakushu’s phone rings.
“Ace-kun, you’re an idiot.” Akabane’s voice comes out from the other side, “But I guess I’m an idiot too. Look, I’m about to test something out, alright? So just hold on for a moment—“
“Akabane what are you—“
The sound of a gunshot comes through his phone speaker and then the darkness swallows him up.
————————————
He wakes up with his head resting on his desk. His English textbook is opened up in front of him, turned to a unit on Shakespeare sonnets—oh god how Gakushu hates Iambic pentameter with a passion—
Gakushu picks up his phone and dials Akabane’s number.
“What the hell did you do, Akabane?” Gakushu demands.
“Ah. So it worked. I thought so.”
“What worked?”
“Every time you die, my day resets too. And when I die, your day resets as well. The two of us are linked in this somehow, Ace-kun.” Akabane’s voice is pensive.
Gakushu rubs his eyes, tired.
“So how do we end this? Because, honestly, I’m getting tired of dying. And watching other people die.”
“I think we have to figure out what each of us are doing each day and see if there’s a connection. I’m also at your window, so please let me in.”
Gakushu snaps his neck to the side, and indeed, there’s a knock at the window.
Stupid assassination training.
Gakushu opens up the curtains and unlocks the window.
“You know you could just knock on the door?” Gakushu sighs.
Akabane steps in, grinning, “Well, it’s more romantic this way.”
Gakushu blinks at that, but then shrugs it off. It must just be one of Akabane’s weird quirks.
“You could have given me some warning? I’m still in my pajamas.”
“Those are some rather cute pajamas. Who would have known that Ace-kun wears pajamas with rubber ducks printed on them.” Akabane comments.
Gakushu’s cheeks turn pink and he crosses his arms defensively. There’s nothing wrong with rubber duck pajamas—hold on. That’s besides the point.
“So you were saying we need to figure out what we do each day. I really don’t know. I do different things each day. But the only thing that’s consistent…” Gakushu trails off, his eyes turning to his desk.
“I wake up every day at this desk, with this English textbook open.” Gakushu gestures to the textbook lying open on top of all his papers.
Akabane looks over to the textbook, and recognition flashes in his eyes.
“Actually, that’s the exact same thing I wake up to. That’s a weird coincidence.”
Gakushu’s eyes widen, and he leans over to stare at the pages.
“That’s not a coincidence, Akabane. Look at this. It’s open to Shakespeare sonnets. Specifically…Sonnet 19.”
Realization dawns on Akabane.
“Sonnet 19 is called Devouring Time. It’s a poem on time. That has to be connected to the time loop we’re in.” Akabane says, rapt in attention now.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think the only way to solve this is by analyzing this poem.” Gakushu says, slowly.
“And here I thought poetry analysis was useless.”
So the two of them deconstruct the poem, arguing over possible meanings to each line.
“That last line. My love shall in my verse ever live young.” Akabane points out, “It’s Valentine’s Day today. Do you think this has to do with love letters?”
Akabane is looking at him with an strange look as he says that.
Gakushu feels it dawn on him.
“Love letters. Tsuchiya gave me a love letter this morning before class. It must have something to do with that. Maybe I’m supposed to give her a love letter too. That way she won’t shoot up the school, right! You’re a genius, Akabane.” He says, excited.
Finally, he’s figured it out.
“That's…” Akabane shakes his head, “Yeah. You’re right. That must be it.” There’s something unfamiliar in Akabane’s voice, but Gakushu is too busy to focus on that.
“I need to get ready for school then. I need to confront Tsuchiya.” Gakushu says, absently as he starts writing his love letter.
“Right. I’ll be leaving then. Later, Ace-kun.”
This time, Akabane leaves through the door.
He goes through the routine that’s getting old by now. But there’s a newfound excitement at the fact that it’s going to be over soon.
Gakushu gets himself dressed in his practiced methodical manner—first socks then shirt and trousers.
His polished shoes make a steady—tap—tap—tap—noise as he walks down the sidewalk. His feet ache.
And he stops before the gates, neatening his hair. He needs to look his best for this.
He walks through the grey hallways, his eyes seeking out Tsuchiya. Finally, he finds her, with her shy smile and love letter.
“Hello, Tsuchiya. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
But Tsuchiya’s expression changes from shyness to embarrassment in a snap of a finger.
“You—are you mocking me Asano?” Her voice shakes, “I get it. You’ve heard the rumors of how I like you and now you’re making fun of my. Stupid slut Tsuchiya, no one likes her—I know what you think of me—“
Gakushu jerks back as Tsuchiya reaches in her pocket.
“Tsuchiya, don’t. I’m sorry. No one thinks that of you—“
She pulls out a gun, pointing it right at Gakushu.
The hallway goes quiet, before someone screams.
Tsuchiya’s fingers are trembling around the gun.
“Seo likes you. He really did.” Gakushu whispers. It’s different, seeing her like this. She’s killed him so many times, but she’s still—still human.
Just a child, like him.
“I can’t do this anymore, Asano-kun. I like you, I really do. But I can’t—I’m going to kill you and then kill myself. I have to. That’s the only way people will ever notice me. This is how I’m going to be remembered. The one who ruined the Principal by killing his son.” Tsuchiya’s eyes are dark, but empty.
There’s a hollowness that he never noticed before.
Gakushu is kicking himself for not paying more attention. He’s the student council president. He’s the one who’s supposed to look after his classmates.
This is his failure, and this time loop is retribution for him. He understands that now.
So when Tsuchiya pulls the trigger, Gakushu just closes his eyes and lets the darkness drag him down.
——————————
He wakes up with his head resting on his desk. His English textbook is opened up in front of him, turned to a unit on Shakespeare sonnets—oh god how Gakushu hates Iambic pentameter with a passion—
Gakushu stares into space, not quite being able to process everything that just happened.
He can’t shake off that hollow look in Tsuchiya’s eyes.
His phone is ringing—probably Akabane—but Gakushu is too tired to pick it up.
He’s out of ideas. Out of plans.
He doesn’t know what to do.
He feels a sob rise in his chest, but he pushes it down.
He wraps his arms around himself, squeezing tight.
He needs to figure a way out. He’s Asano Gakushu, there has to be a way—
He hiccups, tears stinging his eyes.
He can’t. He can’t think. He’s been living the same hell over and over again, day after day, and he’s finally reached his breaking point.
He’s burnt out.
Gakushu doesn’t know how long he sits there sobbing, but eventually, he hears a knock on his window.
“Go away, Akabane.” Gakushu shouts, wiping at his eyes.
But somehow, Akabane manages to break through the window anyway, landing onto his carpet with a soft thump.
“So that didn’t work either.” Akabane sits down on the bed next to Gakushu uninvited, but Gakushu is too tired to tell him off for it.
“I’m done. I’ve done everything, tried everything, but nothing’s working.” Gakushu’s fingers tug on his hair, his scalp stinging from how hard he’s pulling.
Akabane reaches out, gently peeling Gakushu’s hands away from his hair.
The warmth of his fingers linger even after he pulls them away.
“Maybe that’s because it wasn’t you, Asano. You weren’t the one who had to do something.”
And then Akabane is handing him something—a letter, written on pretty paper with fancy writing that is definitely not Akabane’s—
“I asked Nakamura to write it for me. Kanzaki helped me with the paper.” Akabane says, a bit embarrassed.
Gakushu refuses to believe it.
“How did you get them to write it so fast? You come back to the time loop the same time I do, there’s no way you had time to write it before you came here from your house.”
“That’s the thing. I didn’t write it today. I’ve been planning this for weeks, Asano. I was going to confess to you a long time before the time loop. But then when Valentine’s Day came…” Akabane bites his lip, “I chickened out.”
Oh. Gakushu runs his fingers along the smooth writing, the words written on them far too kind for someone like him.
“Every day since the time loop started, I knew it was because of me. My love in my verse ever live young . I needed to give this to you. Each day, I kept making excuses not to.”
Suddenly, Akabane’s eyes are too enthralling, like orbs of pure sunshine.
Gakushu’s heart pounds in that unfamiliar way.
“You...like me?” Gakushu whispers.
Akabane runs his thumb down the back of Gakushu’s hand in a way that makes him shudder.
“How could I not.”
And Gakushu stares into Akabane’s eyes, gold like saturated sunlight that explodes with a burst of white—-and he feels Akabane’s hand tight around his as the world falls away—-
He falls into the light.
————————-
He wakes up, not in his desk, but in bed.
“You’re finally awake. You were quite sick, Gakushu. You even slept through all day yesterday. Are you feeling better now?” His father asks.
Gakushu does feel his head pound a bit, though that’s probably from confusion.
“What day is it, father?” Gakushu stares blankly at the clock.
“It’s February 15th. You slept right through Valentine’s Day. Though nothing eventful occurred, so you shouldn’t be worried—“
A text notification pops up on Gakushu’s phone, and he digs through his sheets to pick it up.
Even though it’s just one line, Gakushu immediately knows who it’s from.
“I’m never reading Shakespeare again...unless you want me to (winky face).”