Chapter Text
“Naoto~! It’s time to go home!!”
Naoto looked up from his notepad. Spotting Hinata at the park entrance, he got up from the sandbox and toddled awkwardly over the gravel. Hinata’s weird friend from cram school was with her today. With the way he held himself, the older kid always gave Naoto the icky vibes.
Naoto knew not to comment on it, however. Hinata had given him an earful about judging someone by their appearances.
Big Sis smiling, she extended her hand.
“Let’s go!”
Embarrassed, the younger wordlessly walked ahead. Hinata didn’t seem to take offense as she and her friend followed behind.
That was how day-to-day life was usually like.
Tachibana Naoto spent his time burying his nose into the occult. Just as his sister would obsess over various genres of television shows (last time was on martial arts; she recently started watching more romcom shows…), all the paranormal, sci-fi and supernatural pulled him in with their tempting, gravitational center.
Returning home, the first thing that would be done was the completion of homework. After that, he would charge straight to the couch and turn on the television, switching the channels until the screen displayed the right program. He often had to fight over the TV with his sister, but luckily, her school workload seemed to be heavier recently.
TV aside, more specifically the supernatural program, the library was Naoto’s favorite place. He had already read so much on Aleister Crowley, not to mention following each and every volume of the Mu magazine series.
Settling onto the couch, Naoto watched the show intently, absorbing the content like a sponge in water. Mom chuckled and got him some snacks, a cup of barley tea placed by the rice crackers. Condensed beads of water were forming stars on the beverage. It was a secret, but he had already finished Hinata’s pudding that was sitting there in the fridge. Hopefully she wouldn’t find out.
Naoto continued watching.
Time leaps. The theories in space and time.... Aliens. Wormholes. He relaxed his shoulders, and with Big Sis finally done with homework, she stood there with her arm crossed, unimpressed by the empty plastic shell discarded in the recyclables.
They played Smash Bros and Naoto’s character got beaten up.
From one thing to the other, Naoto wouldn’t say he liked his sister. Hinata was always very bossy and nosy and when she got mad, she was just terrifying . With that temper of hers, she always got what she wanted. Naoto didn’t like her, honestly. No one liked their sister.
So years later, when that middle school guy—who got him out of that messy situation with the bullies—declared that he loved Hinata, Naoto wasn’t sure what to say.
He stared at him, because the older sounded just like the main protagonist in the TV series Hinata was currently following.
… Naoto stole a glance at Takemichi’s physical state. He was bruised, beaten black and blue—judging from his hairstyle, probably from a fight. Middle school delinquents.
But that was when Takemichi dropped the bomb.
"The deities let me see Tachibana one last time."
Gazing up, the older, sitting on the next swing over, smiled sadly into the air. He held himself in this sad, relaxed yet meek way.
July 1st, 2017.
Naoto and Hinata would both die twelve years into the future, July 1st, and that Takemichi himself had died, falling off the local train station platform.
“Remember that date, and protect your sister, Naoto.”
The look within blue eyes burned into Naoto’s mind. It was a blue that was filtered with the white street lights, strong and powerful—a certain determination—something Naoto couldn’t quite comprehend but while he couldn’t, the impression was still there.
This was someone who punched the lights out of a random thug, broke a bottle and threatened to kill them all. This was also someone reasonable enough to give helpful advice to a first year junior high kid.
Have guts and refuse to back down. Be prepared enough to even die. That would scare away the half-baked guys...
Almost, there was admiration for a guy who loved Naoto’s sister.
“Ahaha… That was a joke,” Takemichi said, sheepishly. Naoto swallowed.
“Well. I’m counting on you, either way.”
Takemichi extended his hand towards the younger kid. Swallowing again, Naoto nodded, taking each and every word Takemichi said to heart.
The moment their hands connected, something zapped through Naoto’s hand. It struck his bones, his muscles, this strange, otherworldly feeling—and at last, Naoto felt the future Takemichi within vanish .
Naoto’s eyes were blown wide.
That was—
At that moment, the middle schooler jolted, blinked twice.
They stared at each other for a solid second before Takemichi whipped his hand out of Naoto’s, turned away on his heels, and bolted.
Naoto stared after him.
He stared, and the reality of the situation finally hit him:
Time travel is real.
A true eureka moment for an occult-fan.
Aside from the fact that his sister and himself would die in twelve years.
Naoto, eyebrows knitted, considered the possibilities. He rushed back indoors, declared that he would study and become a detective like Dad, and proceeded to devour dinner in quick bites. Mom had this amazed expression, watching her son chow down the rice. Hinata’s eyes were also quite wide.
Cram school, more work, Naoto didn’t care. Anything legal as long as he could become a detective—to figure out how to prevent Hina and himself from dying. To figure out why they died.
On that note, he scrunched up his nose. It would help a lot if Takemichi told them how they died, y’know.
… But then again, he thinks he’s dead, so…
Naoto decided. He was going to keep a lot of tabs on Takemichi, so when he fell off the station—whatever train station it was, Naoto would be able to save him.
“What brought this on?” Mom asked, curiously.
"Hinata’s boyfriend," Naoto explained between bites, as if that answered everything.
Though that probably did answer everything, to Hinata at least. At Naoto’s answer, very quickly, her surprised expression melted into one of a small, shy smile.
Oh, she mouthed, a love bird who was very in love, and then—
"Boyfriend?!" Mom squeaked. Hinata immediately dropped the smile as Naoto shot her a smug smirk.
Mom was over ecstatic.
"Hinata, you have a boyfriend?!! Do bring him over!!! Oh my goodness, what is his name? Grade? Same school? What's he like?"
“Naoto!!” Hinata, flustered, squeaked, and Naoto quickly gathered up his empty bowls to put in the sink.
Harmless teasing, really. At least, it was supposed to be. For the next three days, Naoto thought about the whole time traveling business some more, but...
… See.
Ever since that dinner, there were times when Hinata looked a bit disturbed, sometimes even somber. She hid it well with her usual bickering, but oddly enough, Naoto was able to tell.
It was probably not Naoto's fault, right? Revealing to Mom that Hinata had a boyfriend—Naoto swore it wasn't a secret relationship. And like, maybe her bad mood was because of something else. Grades and school and stuff. Maybe.
He didn't dare to ask, though. With a hand up to his mouth, Naoto nibbled his thumb’s nail lightly.
… Yeah.
What kind of person is Hanagaki, either way? The present-Takemichi, that was. Because the one Naoto met… He was twenty six? Twenty seven?
Naoto paused.
That was quite old.
He knew not a thing about Hinata’s boyfriend, future or present.
The third day after that night, before the time leap became more like a dream, it happened abruptly. It was during the middle of a school day, in the middle of a math test, when Naoto felt it. His hand tensed up, this sensation—the same sensation that phased through when Takemichi of the future, Naoto theorized, leapt back —sparking through his bones.
Naoto nearly gasped. He quickly held it back, though—didn’t want to catch the teacher’s attention. Resuming to scribble away, calculating the formulas in steady steps, Naoto kept his lips sealed. Impatience quickly built. He was curious. The feeling was quick, after all, almost fleeting, but Naoto swore—he felt it. That was definitely Takemichi, future-Takemichi, time leaping. No doubt.
Finishing the test paper, he waited until class was over. He swiped out his notebook the moment the bell rang.
Below the advice Takemichi gave him was the important date, July 1th, 2017. Below that was a list of theories:
Origin of time leap = death? Last thought was Big Sis. Power of love
Time leap activated through handshake? But he got hit by a train first
Zappy feeling:
- Did Takemichi return? How? Why? → in hand, same hand that shook with Takemichi’s
Handshake...
On his way home, Naoto quickly visited the library and borrowed some books. He returned to the apartment soon after that.
Big Sis came back a little later. Cram school probably ran late. From his spot in the living room, Naoto could see that she looked a lot better. Her eyes were still a bit somber, though.
“He just wouldn’t tell me everything, huh…” Naoto heard her murmur.
Wordlessly, Hinata went to her room and closed the door behind her.
The scientific method had five basic steps: observe, research, hypothesis, experiment, and at last, iterate.
Naoto was well into research. Observations were difficult to do as Naoto for sure didn’t want to ask Hinata if he could meet up with her boyfriend, but at the very least, the boy could work with what he already knew.
So next was theorization: in order to prove a hypothesis, an experiment had to be conducted. Staring at his hand intently, Naoto narrowed his eyes.
Two days had passed since the zappy. There was without any doubt that the sensation was related to Takemichi’s time traveling powers, and since that was the case...
Naoto reworded it into a hypothesis:
If the zappy sensation in his hand was an indication of Hanagaki Takemichi’s time leaping, then Naoto, who felt it despite being away from the other, is connected to Takemichi’s time leaping power.
Conclusion: if Takemichi wanted to return to the future, then he would have to shake hands with Naoto again.
Maybe.
Naoto hummed.
But then again, if I can’t even meet Hanagaki, I wouldn’t know...
Luckily for Naoto, the stars aligned for him that night.
“You know, you know! Hinata brought her boyfriend over!” Mom said excitedly, waving the spatula around. “She’s right now at the roof with him, they’re watching the fireworks together! Sweet, isn’t it? It must be so beautiful up there… Oh, why don’t you go up there, too, Naoto?”
And possibly ruin Hinata’s romantic night with her boyfriend?
Staring at his mom, Naoto snapped his notebook close.
Why the heck not.
He quickly ran up the stairs and snuck to Hinata’s side.
In hindsight, Naoto should have considered the fact that Takemichi might be in a super-important mission, especially as he was in the past again. Why else would he time leap, after all? This meant that Takemichi was aware of his ability, solidifying a few facts. And heck, maybe Takemichi couldn’t do it all the time —maybe he had a limit .
But well.
The twenty six or seven year old looked like he was ready to scream, but it was too late as the zappy pierced through Naoto’s hand once more. Takemichi of the future then vanished, Takemichi (the present one) jolting in surprise, eyes blown wide and very confused. Naoto could see the change in his demeanor in the matter of seconds. A blank beat later, the older proceeded to turn on his feet and run away like crazy.
All without looking back.
Hinata was rather shocked by that.
“T-Takemichi?!”
… Sorry, Naoto inwardly apologized. But it looked like his theory was correct.
A handshake—specifically from Naoto, for some reason—was the trigger.
Takemichi would often jump back and forth through time. Whether or not that was a good thing, Naoto would try not to think too hard about it.
At least it meant that Naoto didn’t screw up and secured a future where Hinata and him would definitely bite the dust. He’d feel guilty if that was the case—though, of course, he wouldn’t know.
During random parts of the day, before the adult-teen would arrive at their doorsteps, Naoto would feel the zappy; that was his cue that Takemichi would pop up at some point to demand for a handshake. It wasn’t really a demand, but…
“Ahaha… Just shake on it, Naoto!”
… He gave up trying to make an excuse, didn’t he.
Naoto awkwardly accepted the older’s hand, felt the zap, and was face to face with the present Takemichi. It also seemed that present Takemichi was tired of appearing at the Tachibana Household’s doorsteps for who knew what reason (assuming that he had no memories of his future-self’s adventures, Naoto took note of that as well), so he simply greeted the younger—weakly, that was. Unsure whether to mention about future-Takemichi’s adventures, Naoto returned the greeting.
“Want to have some tea?” Naoto suggested dryly. Present Takemichi shrugged. Shaking his head, he said he would go back for now. Naoto watched as the older left, the teen dragging his feet behind him.
Quite quickly, however, the zappy buzzed through once more. Naoto counted the days before future-Takemichi reappeared at their door.
An unwritten, unvocal agreement between Naoto and (present) Takemichi where they wouldn’t talk about the older’s unwilling habit of waking-up-to-a-handshake with Naoto formed. Naoto was actually very welcome to talk, but judging from how the delinquent held himself…
… Yeah.
This guy was kinda miserable, huh.
Chilling in the living room, the two played some Smash Bros as Takemichi tried to show off his not so good coordination with the Wii remotes. Mom was delighted to have Hinata’s boyfriend over. The rate of snacks being delivered to the table was honestly noteworthy.
“It’s definitely lagging,” Takemichi squinted. Naoto snorted.
“ Totally .”
If Naoto were to describe Present-michi, he was, in short, childish. Childish and snarky. Trashy, even. Given that Takemichi was a thirteen year old middle school student, of course he would be. While Naoto was future-Takemichi’s trigger for time leaps, he never really got the chance to talk to him often... There was still the impression from their first meeting, of course, but that left him with Present-michi, who was, pretty much, tired of life.
Ironically, it was the present-Takemichi who was a lot more somber than the future one. At least for now.
On that note, Naoto wondered. What if he shook hands with the current Takemichi? Did this ability only apply to his future-self?
Kind of mysterious, really.
“Takemichi, Takemichi!” Hinata patted Takemichi’s shoulder rapidly, ushering him to dodge before Naoto’s ultimate hit the other’s character. “Left! Go left!!”
The teen’s thumb slipped and hit right, and then Pikachu was decimated.
Naoto had this empty sense of accomplishment beating his sister's boyfriend.
“AGHH!! NOT AGAIN!”
“I’ll avenge you, Takemichi!! Hand over the remote, we’re defeating Naoto!”
“Eh?!”
Naoto grimaced.
“Geh, no way! That’s unfair!”
Lucas was then destroyed by Jigglypuff.
Throughout the afternoon, Naoto noticed Takemichi staring. At Hinata, to be more exact.
He would’ve brushed it off as a boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but looking closer, Naoto realized.
Rather than Hinata, Takemichi was staring at her necklace.
“Geez, Big Sis really likes your gift, huh. She wears it everyday,” Naoto tried to explain in a roundabout way. The kid knew that not everyone believed in the supernatural at the drop of the hat, and if anything, looking at how miserable Takemichi was right now, telling him that his future-self was time traveling to save his girlfriend would probably produce even more of a headache.
Naoto wasn’t sure if this was the last time Future-michi would time travel. Maybe this was the last time. Future-michi was rather serious when he told Naoto’s sister: all I want is for you to be happy.
Naoto, to some degree, hoped it would be the last time.
Takemichi blinked wildly. Stealing another glance at Hinata’s direction, he pursed his lips.
Hinata was digging through the discs, wondering what game they should play next. Being called over by Mom, she excused herself before reaching the kitchen counter.
“... Ah,” Present-michi replied. “Yeah.”
Another hypothesis was tested.
Takemichi really couldn’t recall his future-self’s actions, despite having the same brain.
“Let’s play Mario Kart,” Naoto suggested. Takemichi nodded. They put in the CD and prepared the game. Hinata came back with cups of juice.
There was a saying.
“Say, what gang are you part of, again?”
“Huh?” Takemichi blinked. “I… Uh, I don’t think I’m in one?”
“I’m pretty sure you hang around one a lot, seeing how beat up you are. Spill it.”
“... Toman. Though I’m not a member.”
“Cool.”
Ignorance was bliss.
That could be a reason why Future-michi never bothered to contact his younger self. That or, of course, it completely slipped off his mind.
But looking back, the way Takemichi responded to Hinata’s necklace—it should’ve been the first sign for Naoto. The way Takemichi responded to the necklace, the way he drew back… The way he seemed miserable, constantly. The signs that made the one phone call Naoto’s cell got, twelve years into the future, make sense—predictable.
As he was right now, however, Naoto wouldn’t know. Of course he wouldn’t. Even if he did, even if he noticed , what could he do?
See-you-laters were exchanged as Takemichi of the present made his way back home. After the living room was all cleaned up, Naoto did some research on the Tokyo Manji Gang.
Big Sis began watching more detective shows. Sherlock Holmes, Detective Conan, etc, she was pretty much hogging the TV.
Naoto grumbled when Hinata pulled him along to watch the shows with her. This episode’s going to be amazing , but what was the point of watching if he hadn’t seen the previous four?
As the television displayed some actors glaring intensely at the crime scene, chemistry equations overlaying the screen, Naoto glanced at his sister. She was completely immersed, sparkling eyes looking straight ahead.
It was during the commercial break when she scooted over to Naoto.
“Say, Naoto.”
Naoto nudged away.
“About Takemichi,” she lowered her voice, “do you think he sometimes… Acts differently?”
Ah. Naoto understood what was going on.
How should he do this…
“... How so?”
“Well,” leaning back, Hinata got out of Naoto’s personal space to the younger’s relief. Twirling a strand of hair, she sighed. “Sometimes, he’d be… You know. Takemichi.”
Yeah, I don’t know.
“But other times, he’s like… An adult, I guess. A lot more… It’s like I’m talking to someone older. He becomes extremely careful with what he says. Still silly, though. Still Takemichi.
“It’s just… I’m not sure,” pulling her legs to her chest, Hinata pressed her chin on the top of her knees. “Something about him…”
The Sherlock Holmes show came back on. As the culprit got arrested, Hinata trailed quiet. Her eyes were somber again.
Naoto looked back at the TV.
“I think he’s weird,” Naoto stated plainly. Hinata made a face at that.
“Oh come on, didn’t he help you out when you two first met?”
“Sure, but I still think he’s weird.”
“Na~o~to~”
“Why the sudden change of genre, though? You haven’t finished that show… Beautiful Life ? Isn’t it on right now?”
She paused.
“... Mm. That one’s great, everyone’s talking about it. The story got kind of sad, though. I feel sorry for Shuji and Kyoko.”
“Not going to finish it?”
Big Sis closed her eyes. With a smile, she hummed.
“I know how it’s going to end. And besides, you want to become a detective like Dad, right?”
Naoto blinked.
Turning her gaze to the younger, Hinata grinned.
“It’s all fantasy, but I want to understand that field of work a bit more.”
The end credits began rolling.
… Big Sis liked watching TV shows. After watching some martial arts drama, she demanded to have classes, posture determined and hands closed into fists. Watching romcoms, something sparkled as if she finally realized, heart beating as she chuckled at the comedic antics. Romcoms phased to romance. Beautiful Life was somber.
Hinata always had a distant look, watching as Beautiful Life played out. To this day, Naoto never saw her catch up to it. Maybe she did. Maybe she didn’t.
During the times Future-michi hadn’t time leapt back, everyday, Takemichi and Hinata walked home together. They were too shy to have their hands linked, shoulders barely brushing. Naoto occasionally noticed them on the road. Walking in the same direction and street lights flickering on, he felt embarrassed just watching them.
It was at least a month after the zap did Hinata and Naoto finally bumped into Takemichi again.
November. Hinata dragged Naoto out of the apartment to go shopping with her. Geared with suitable clothes for the weather, they reached the city, Hinata’s new hat fitting snugly around the crown of her head.
At some point Big Sis spotted Future-michi so they started following him (he was… Snooping around, for some reason), but at the moment they found out what exactly he was doing...
“It’s Armageddon, man!!” Takemichi despaired, crybaby mode very on.
“Indeed,” Hinata said without any sense of shame. “It smells like a scandal, my dear Watson!!”
A brand new flip phone sat in Naoto’s hand. Standing before him was Dad, and with a small smile, he waited for his son’s response. There really wasn’t much to say, though. Naoto stared at it.
Mom, on the other hand, was delighted to see Dad home. Excited to tell him everything that was going on, she first shoved the man into the bathroom, clean clothes at hand.
“Dinner will be ready soon, go and first have a bath!”
“Naoto, Naoto,” Hinata patted his shoulder. Naoto looked up to see his sister grinning. She held up her phone.
“Let’s exchange numbers!”
“... Again?” Takemichi said out loud.
“Again,” Naoto confirmed.
Letting go of Naoto’s hand, Takemichi took out his phone and flipped it open. Staring at the home screen, he squeezed his eyes shut.
A shuddering intake of breath later, Takemichi said with a dry laugh.
“Should I go check with a doctor?”
...
Naoto shrugged.
“Your call.”
Takemichi made a weak hum. He was about to put his phone away until Naoto stopped him.
“Let’s exchange numbers,” Naoto said. The middle schooler blinked once, then twice.
“Numbers—? Oh, you got a phone?” His mood seemed to have gotten better.
“Yeah.” Punching in their contact information, they bid each other a “see-you-later.”
The next day, Hinata and Takemichi went out on a date. To the bowling rink, or something. As Naoto worked on his school project, trying to make a rocket of sorts, a small knock rapped at his door. Dad. At the same time, Naoto felt the zappy.
… The future’s still bad, huh.
“So, I heard you want to become a detective?”
Naoto kept his lips in a line. He thought about how Takemichi would disappear for weeks, presumably to fix the future with broken fists. He thought about how he was able to say “I know it will,” replying to Hinata’s gentle words—
I hope things will work out, between me and you, too.
A quiet beat later, Dad chuckled softly. He shook his head, this small motion.
“Mind if I sit?” He gestured at the bed. Naoto shrugged.
Dad’s cell phone began buzzing. Excusing himself, Dad left Naoto’s room and picked up the call. Quiet murmurs were audible to Naoto, and making out a few words, he concluded that it was about work.
Of course it was.
The thought was souring. Exhaling, Naoto grabbed his marker and roughly drew across the cardboard. Even though it felt like his face was all scrunched up, there was only an apathetic look upon catching his reflection on a thin sheet of aluminum.
He pressed his knuckles on closed lips. Knuckles and then his thumb.
Nibbling on the tip of his nail, Naoto grabbed his notebook and theorized some more. He thought about Takemichi’s ability, considered the possibilities, and at last, he let himself sleep, daydreaming about the supernatural world.
Dad was never home often, too busy and everything. Every night, the dinner table would only consist of Mom, Hinata, and Naoto. Everyday, there would always be an empty chair beside Mom.
Good grades, good morals, good lifestyle. The Tachibana Household strived to be “good” people and citizens, whatever that meant.
Sometimes, Naoto wondered how Mom felt about Dad. Whether she was like Hinata, whether love, romantic love, continued regardless.
Sometimes, Naoto wondered if Dad actually cared.
Naoto was studying when he heard heavy footsteps through the corridor. It was Christmas Eve, and their yells were more or less audible to the entire flat.
“Dad, what did you say to Takemichi?!! ”
Peering carefully at the door, Naoto nervously gripped the pencil in his hand. He waited.
When Hinata was angry, she was just terrifying. But this was a different type of anger. Naoto pressed the graphite against his worksheet. A few mumbles later, Hinata’s voice rose again, and Naoto could hear her turn on her feet, stomping all the way to the outside and slamming the door behind her. The impact ran through the walls. Naoto could see his lantern shaking.
He swallowed. Opening the door, careful eyes peeked outside his room. In the kitchen, Mom was talking to Dad. Naoto couldn’t see the older man’s face.
Setting down the writing utensil, Hinata’s yells echoed. Naoto recalled their argument in his head. It repeated for a few times.
Lowering his eyes, Naoto sighed. The words from his first conversation with Future-michi resurfaced.
… It was tough.
Glancing at the Mu magazines left discarded by his desk, Naoto walked over and picked up one of the volumes. He then grabbed his notebook and flipped through the pages.
When you married Mom, was it because it looked good in society? No, right?!
Hinata knew the dangers of dating a delinquent. She knew, and that was why she wore her necklace everyday. That was why she gave Takemichi a matching pendant.
The reason why Future-michi kept showing up all black and blue… It was because Hinata’s death was related to Toman, right? Gangs… Naoto wasn’t sure what Toman would be like, twelve years into the future. That Draken guy seemed cool, and the leader, Mikey, was kind enough to hang out with his sister during her birthday, but in the end, gangs were more related to the underside of society. Dad was concerned about that.
Naoto saw the news about August Third. He saw the news about Bloody Halloween, as well. More than likely, Dad saw them, too.
That was probably why Takemichi, Future-michi, caved in to Dad’s request.
For the sake of Hinata’s future.
Naoto paused.
“... Oh.”
It was… Kind of similar, in a way. Even though Dad didn’t have supernatural responsibilities like Takemichi, this was…
Similar.
Naoto’s throat went dry. Eyes remaining on the Mu magazine’s cover, he stared at the image without actually processing it.
“ Oh .”
Should he feel ashamed? Guilty? Guilty, maybe. Breathing unsteady, the plastic sheets binded into a book began to wrinkle. The world was filtered with dancing lights. Light got warped upon hitting the liquid surface. He learned about it in science class, how light worked and how fast it was. Speed of light, certain theories.
Oh.
Late in the night, Hinata and Takemichi made up. Naoto could hear the crying despite already in bed, lights off and sleeping.
The next morning came. A few thoughts came to mind, but Naoto took it slowly.
“Dad, tell me about your job…?”
Dad nearly dropped his mug of coffee. Blinking wildly, a small smile formed before his glasses were pushed up quickly.
“Ah, of course. What would you like to hear about?”
Naoto thought, even though he didn’t like Dad, he’d still try to understand.
He’d try—like Hinata, who watched television shows of various genres.
A certain weight was lifted, but Naoto never really noticed. He studied like usual, thinking about Takemichi’s powers. Preparing for the exams, he was confident on achieving a good grade. The rocket he crafted got good marks.
Phone buzzing, the sender’s name was checked. Winter coat donned, Naoto got up and left for the park.
“Sorry for calling you out here on short notice, Naoto,” Takemichi greeted.
“What is it?” Naoto already knew what it was about. “You said it was something important.”
Takemichi grinned. Shortly after, he bowed. He bowed with the confidence that Naoto didn’t see Present-michi have, this confidence that only showed itself when he grabbed the glass bottle and threatened Naoto’s bullies.
… No, it was stronger. It was a confidence that was beaten like metal under hot pressure. Takemichi was an ore during their first meeting. He was now a tool being made in progress; a tool to till the dirt, make the land usable and healthy.
“Be good to Hina… Be good to your sister!! I know this sounds weird, but…!!” A pause.
Extending his hand, the look within blue eyes was serious.
“Take care of Hina for me.”
The zap was a constant feeling. From Future-michi’s demeanor, it was supposed to be a farewell.
So is Hinata saved? Is our future finally okay? Naoto wanted to ask. He held back the questions, though.
“Alright,” Naoto ended up saying. He smiled. It was okay.
Shaking hands, Future-michi disappeared. There were still faint tingles from the zap when blue eyes became focused again.
Takemichi blinked. The older seemed to be taking in the new environment.
“... Hey, again,” the greeting came. He was wearing a weak smile.
Naoto stared at Takemichi.
“... Yeah,” he returned the greeting. The older rubbing his eyes, Takemichi made a small laugh as his hand let go of Naoto’s—
Naoto’s heartbeat ran fast.
“Are you okay?” He blurted out.
Takemichi seemed to be caught off guard by Naoto’s question. For what felt like forever, he opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again.
“... To be honest…” He stopped.
“Nah, I’m fine. Say hello to Hina for me!”
He turned away and ran.
Naoto could only stare after the teen. There was this bad feeling welling up, something the smaller kid couldn’t understand. In his mind, he tried looking for some point of reference.
There was none.
Only a few days later, did the zap return.
Everything about time traveling and what it entailed stabbed through Naoto's hand.
The future wasn’t fixed.
And what did that mean for Takemichi, for both his future and past selves?
It could be all for naught.
It could.
Big Sis’ boyfriend appearing at their doorsteps at the most random times was something normal. Since their first meeting, Takemichi showed up again and again, awkwardly asking Naoto for a handshake.
He did so again, quite recently as well. Judging from the way he spoke, Takemichi wasn’t going to leap back into the future because the problem was solved. He didn’t mention Hina, after all.
Naoto guessed it was probably to check up on something—to get more information.
Present-michi woke up. Blinking slowly, the teen breathed—he wasn’t exactly all there. But it wasn’t like the previous leaps, Naoto noticed. When Takemichi of the present woke up, he was usually very miserable before faking a smile. This time, it was as if he already resigned.
Dooming, almost.
The bad feeling continued to gnaw as the older turned away, dragging his feet behind him.
What can I do?
During the same day, in the middle of the night, the zap came again. Too soon, Naoto thought before starting awake at the pain—sensation, yes, but it was painful all the same. Jarring. Takemichi's phone call came right after that.
Future-michi, Naoto knew.
Carefully getting out of bed, he opened the door and got outside. It was cold. Wrapped up tightly in his winter coat, Naoto’s face morphed into one of concern when he finally spotted the older. Takemichi was wearing only a coat over his pajamas, bleached blonde hair completely undone...
Future Takemichi, hesitantly and without an explanation, reached out and grabbed Naoto’s hand. He clutched firmly, and then—
And then he bowed his head down, and started crying.
It was the first time, Naoto thought. A chill ran down his spine.
There was no zapping sensation. Nothing that struck the bones.
The Takemichi who was clueless and sad did not return, but the one who Naoto assumed from the future and still sad remained.
Naoto waited until Takemichi’s tears stopped. Head still lowered, Takemichi stepped back, finding a seat on the end of the slide. For Takemichi to be this quiet (dead), it was something Naoto found extremely unsettling. Something was utterly wrong. This was wrong.
(But the signs were already there, wasn't it?)
What happened?
What’s going on?
What happened in that future you just returned from?
He willed himself to not bite down his thumb.
“Takemichi," Naoto tried. "Are you alright?”
“... Yeah,” the older, quietly, answered. His voice was void of emotion.
“I’m fine," you're not.
"Sorry for making you come out here," what can I do to help?
"You can go home now," you always carry everything by yourself.
The air was cold in Naoto’s lungs. Quietly, he stepped away.
Naoto was pretty sure that Takemichi didn’t even realize that he had left.
Turning the knob, Naoto held his breath and entered the flat. He slipped out of his slippers, got out of his jacket. At last, he tiptoed to Hinata’s room.
Hand raised, he barely tapped his knuckles against her door.
“Sis?”
A few seconds later, the door creaked open.
“Naoto?”
His thumb nearly moved to his lips. Naoto bit the inside of his cheek.
“It’s your boyfriend,” the sleep in Hinata’s eyes immediately whisked away. “He’s outside—I think he needs help.”
Naoto waited as Hinata went outside.
He waited as the minute hand continued to move.
It was morning by the time Hinata came back in. Naoto, wearily, looked up from his spot on the couch.
Their eyes met. Hinata smiled.
“It’s okay now, Naoto.”
Walking to the kitchen, she made some hot chocolate. The cup was warm in Naoto’s hands.
Outside, the sky was a shade of relaxing blue.
It wasn’t even a few days later when Hinata’s phone buzzed. She flipped it open. A text message.
Looking over his shoulder, Naoto wondered what was up.
“... No.”
Her eyes were wide. Very.
“No.”
Roughly grabbing for her jacket, Hinata swung open the door and ran.
The girl, who Naoto saw receive a gift, died.
Hinata’s friend, Emma, died.