Michael sat on his futon, the soft hum of the old ceiling fan spinning lazily above him. The dim light of the setting sun cast long, orange streaks across the floor. He gently smoothed the creases in the blueprint, his fingers tracing the edges of the skeletal frame design—its hollow eyes, exposed servos, and faded technical notes.
The blueprint was old—frayed at the corners, yellowing with age. But it was unmistakable. It was the Endoskeleton Model A-01, the kind used in the earliest versions of the animatronics from the Pizzaplex. Every line etched on the paper held weight. History. Regret. Guilt.
Michael leaned back, resting against the wall as he stared at the drawing. "Why the hell did I bring this?" he muttered again, shaking his head.
It wasn't just nostalgia. It wasn't even guilt. It was something deeper—like the blueprint had to be with him. Like it was a piece of him he couldn't leave behind. No matter how far he tried to run, no matter how many countries he crossed, it always came back to them. To him.
He sighed, rolling the blueprint up carefully and tucking it back into the hidden pocket of his bag. "You're a ghost that refuses to stay dead…"
Outside, cicadas buzzed in the humid dusk, and somewhere far off, a crow cawed.
Michael stood, his stomach growling. "Well, ghost or not, I still gotta eat."
He headed to the small kitchen, muttering as he rummaged through the fridge. "God, I hope it's not tofu again…"
As the microwave hummed to life, he glanced back toward his room… and for a brief moment, swore he saw something shift in the shadows.
But when he looked again—it was gone.
Michael grabbed the food from his Microwave, and then he heard a click. Michael blinked, wondering if his Uncle had come home early; he looked at the back door.
What Micheal saw confused him; there standing at the back door, as she had just broken in, was Rika; Michael was confused as he stood up; he looked at the 12-year-old 4.6 shrine Girl and he wondered what she was doing there.
Rikw looked at Michael as she spoke, her eyes glowing red. "You are an anomaly".
Michael blinked and to be real he was kind of sacred, this girl came out of nowhere, and was just standing there, then he saw her get closed but something was behind her, as she pulled out a Buzzsaw a Mechanic Buzzsaw to be correct, as Michael was shocked as the girls pressed the Button, as the Michael ran to his door, as he grabbed the key and opened the door, as he ran.
His house was far from the main city, not that far, but he didn't feel like he would make it in time, so he just ran, after taking a deep breath, wondering what that was.
"Found You".
Michael's soul had left his body at that point; as he heard her voice, he ran as he heard the Buzzsaw noise. Kept running as he arrived at a shrine, he then hides closing his mouth, as he wondered what the hell was happening, why was she trying to kill him, what did he to her, and many more
Michael crouched behind one of the old, moss-covered pillars of the shrine, heart pounding so hard it echoed in his ears louder than the chirping of crickets or the night wind rustling through the trees. His breath came in sharp gasps, his hand clutching his chest like he could physically stop his panic from consuming him.
"What the hell was that?" he whispered, pressing his back against the stone. "She came at me with a buzzsaw… a buzzsaw!"
The shrine around him was old, worn with time but well-maintained. Paper talismans fluttered slightly under the moonlight, and incense sticks long since burned out sat in trays beside offerings. It smelled faintly of ash, pine, and something metallic—maybe his imagination.
He dared to peek from the side of the pillar.
Nothing.
Just the gravel path, the trees, the empty shrine yard.
Michael exhaled slowly.
Then—crunch.
A footstep. Not his.
Another crunch. Then a whirr—the mechanical hum of the buzzsaw reactivating.
His body froze.
From the shadows, Rika stepped into the moonlight. Her expression was blank, eerie, with those crimson-glowing eyes like coals. In her small hands, the buzzsaw gleamed ominously, crusted with dried rust—or something else.
"You're not from this timeline," she whispered, voice too calm. "And you're not affected by the syndrome. That makes you dangerous."
Michael's eyes widened.
"What the hell are you talking about?! I'm just a kid!" he shouted.
Rika tilted her head. "That's what makes you more suspicious."
Then she stepped forward.
Michael bolted again, deeper into the forest behind the shrine, panting. Branches scratched at his arms and face, the buzzsaw's noise following him like a nightmare.
He didn't know where he was going, what was happening, or why a shrine maiden had suddenly become a horror movie villain, but one thing was for sure
He was very much not in America anymore.
Rika's smile faltered as the number glitched, flickered—and reset.
From 500
To 0
And then—
1
Her breath hitched.
"No…" she whispered, backing away from the water's reflection like it had burned her. "No… NO!"
She stumbled to the ground, blood still staining her shoes, the buzzsaw falling with a clank beside her.
"I… I killed him. He was the anomaly. It was supposed to END!" she screamed at the empty shrine, tears of frustration mixing with the sweat and blood on her face.
But the world did not listen.
Because even now, time was unraveling.
Somewhere far from her sight, Michael opened his eyes. Gasping, coughing, grabbing at his chest. He was lying in bed, in the same guest room, the same familiar hum of the microwave in the background, the blueprint still neatly folded on his desk.
He blinked.
"What… the hell?" he muttered. "Was that… a dream?"
But it didn't feel like one. The ache in his lungs. The phantom sensation of being split apart. It was all too real.
Meanwhile, Rika stood frozen at the shrine, the sound of cicadas filling the night as she whispered to herself in growing horror,
"…He's looping too."
Her fingers trembled.
"What the hell is he?"
She didn't know it yet.
But for the first time in all 501 loops—
Someone else remembered.
Back in her Shrine Rika woke up, as she relies on the time loop that started again, she went to the mirror, and she went into a ball
Rika curled into herself, her shrine home eerily quiet as the early morning sun filtered through the wooden slats. The light felt harsh against her skin, as if it were judging her too.
She stared at the mirror, eyes hollow, hands trembling.
"I killed someone innocent…" she whispered, voice cracking as her knees hugged tighter to her chest. "He wasn't part of it. He wasn't one of them. He didn't know…"
Her fingers dug into her legs, nails pressing red crescents into her skin. The mechanical buzzsaw flashed in her mind—its roar, the look on Michael's face, the way he didn't fight back, just ran. Confused. Afraid.
"I thought… he was the anomaly," she said, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I was desperate. 500 loops and I… I just wanted it to end…"
She buried her face into her arms, rocking gently.
"What have I done…?"
For the first time in hundreds of loops—where she had grown numb, tired, and jaded—regret came crashing in like a tidal wave. And this time, it wouldn't be so easy to shrug off.
Unseen by her, the mirror's reflection flickered.
And far away, Michael sat in silence, staring at his hands, remembering.
Michael looked at the mirror in his room, but there was something different and he was confused, what was the difference, that's was a number there, the number was 1
Michael tilted his head, frowning slightly as he pointed at the mirror. "Uncle… do you see that?"
Makoto, who had just finished pouring coffee, glanced over, adjusting his glasses. "See what?"
"That number… right there." Michael stepped closer, his finger lightly grazing the glass. "A red one. It wasn't there before."
Makoto squinted, then shook his head. "There's nothing there, kid. Maybe you're just jet-lagged. Get some rest."
But Michael didn't move.
Because he could see it. Clear as day.
1
Bright red. Like blood. Like… a counter. It wasn't on the surface—no, it was like it existed within the reflection itself. Subtle, yet impossible to ignore once noticed.
His heart pounded a bit harder.
"What the hell is going on…?" he muttered under his breath.
And deep in his mind, flashes came back.
A girl.
A shrine.
A buzzsaw.
Pain.
Death.
His breath hitched. He looked back at his uncle, who was humming casually while flipping through the morning news.
No one remembered.
But he did.
The counter in the mirror pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
1
One loop.
And he had returned.
And then what Michael thought was Yesterday happened again, he and his Uncle explored the village like they had done before, which made Michael even more confused, he was introduced to the same people the same way, went to the same events, saw the same café had the same conversation and later in the night he did the same events of Microwave, and as Uncle was in the Hospital Michael was very confused, he heard the door open again, as he holds a Knife
Michael's grip tightened on the kitchen knife, his pulse thumping like war drums in his ears.
This can't be happening again… right?
He stood in the dimly lit kitchen, back pressed to the fridge, eyes locked on the hallway leading to the back door. The exact same click echoed through the room. The same one from last night.
And just like before, the handle creaked, the door pushed open…
Rika stepped through the threshold, bathed in moonlight, her shrine robe swaying gently. Her eyes glowed a faint red again, but this time — this time there was something different.
She stopped.
And she stared.
So did Michael.
The two stood in silence. One holding a buzzsaw behind her back. The other holding a knife close to his chest.
Rika's expression twitched. "You… remembered."
Michael's voice came out strained, low. "I shouldn't be here, should I?"
Rika clenched her jaw. Her grip on the buzzsaw loosened, just slightly. "You're not supposed to be anything. You weren't in any of the loops. You're not part of this. You're a mistake."
Michael stepped forward just an inch. "Then why am I still here?"
Rika's eyes narrowed. "That's what I'm trying to find out."
The buzzsaw didn't start this time.
Michael didn't run.
Both stared at each other, like two ghosts from different nightmares, both unsure if the other was real.
Somewhere, off in the distance, the shrine bell rang once.
Michael looked at her as he spoke. "So, what am I?".
Rika looked at him as she spoke. "Basically a New Game+".
All the tension in the room just died with that one sentence.
Michael blinked. "…A what now?"
Rika sighed and put the buzzsaw down on the table like it was a cup of tea. "A New Game Plus. Y'know… after you beat the game once, and start over, but with all the upgrades, stats, and weird bonus content."
Michael looked at her like she'd just spoken in riddles and anime references. "…Are you okay?"
"I was until the universe decided to throw in a secret route with a secret character who wasn't in the script." She pointed at him dramatically. "You. You're the DLC."
Michael sat down at the table across from her, knife still loosely in hand. "…So I'm post-game content?"
Rika shrugged. "Either that or a bug. But you're self-aware. That's the creepy part."
Michael looked down at his hands. "Okay. Cool. Totally normal. New country, maybe a curse, and now I'm a glitchy anime protagonist with bonus content energy. Awesome."
Rika rubbed her temples. "This loop is going to be stupid, I can already tell."
Michael leaned back and smirked. "Well, you tried to kill me last time. I'd say we're off to a better start."
Rika deadpanned. "Don't push it."
Rika looked at him as she spoke. "You taking this very well".
Michael looked at her as he spoke. "Ok, what are you expecting?".
Rika looked at him as she spoke. "Denial, you refuse to believe me, thinking I am lying, chasing me Around".
Michael looked as he spoke. "I think you did more than a little damage to my Brain when you killed me".
Rika looked as her face dropped. "Sorry".
Michael snorted, waving her off as he sat on the edge of the table. "Don't worry, I probably wasn't using that part of my brain anyway."
Rika blinked, guilt still etched into her face. "No… seriously. I—I thought you were a threat. I've… I've killed a lot of people. But usually they were part of the loop, part of why we kept looping. You weren't. I didn't even try to figure it out. I just—reacted."
Michael looked at her, actually serious now. "And now you think I'm what? Some wildcard?"
"…You are," she said quietly. "You're not from this timeline. You're not part of the loop. You're… new. And people like you usually don't just show up without reason."
Michael stared at her for a beat, then finally said, "Well… guess I'm your final boss now, huh?"
Rika frowned. "You're making jokes again."
"It's either that or have an existential breakdown. And I've had enough of those for one lifetime, thanks." He stood up and stretched. "So what now, huh? We team up to break your curse? Unravel fate? Stop a god? Kill a teddy bear?"
"…Maybe," Rika murmured. "But first…"
She looked at him, more vulnerable than she had ever let herself be.
"I want to know who you are. And why you were worth the reset."
Michael gave her a long, unreadable look before sighing and plopping down on the couch. "That makes two of us, then. I've been asking myself that same question ever since I landed in this village."
Rika walked over, slowly, cautiously, and sat in the chair across from him—still holding the buzzsaw, but this time it rested on the floor beside her. A peace offering. Sort of.
Michael raised an eyebrow at the weapon. "You gonna put that thing down or keep it like a really messed-up comfort blanket?"
"…I sleep with it sometimes," Rika admitted, deadpan.
Michael stared.
She shrugged.
"Right," he said, leaning back. "So. You've got memory of 500 loops. I've got memory of dying once and suddenly having déjà vu all over town. I think I'm gonna need more than a 'New Game+' explanation, shrine girl."
Rika nodded, closing her eyes briefly. "The world resets every time I die. I carry my memories across the loops. My goal is to escape the cycle… to find a world where no one dies, and where I live past June."
"Let me guess," Michael said, rubbing his temples. "You've tried everything. And nothing worked."
Rika opened her eyes and looked at him, tired beyond her years. "Almost everything. But you… you're new. That's never happened before. Not like this. Not this late into the loops."
Michael frowned. "So I'm a glitch in your Matrix."
"Maybe. Or maybe… you're the key."
There was a long silence.
Michael finally broke it. "That is way too much pressure to put on a random kid who just moved here."
"You're not random," Rika said with conviction. "Something brought you here. And if I made a mistake killing you… I'm going to make sure I don't repeat it."
Michael snorted. "That's oddly reassuring."
The clock ticked on the wall. The night outside was calm, but the undercurrent of fate buzzed like electricity between them.
"Alright," Michael finally said, standing. "You want to team up, Rika? Fine. But let's get something straight—next time you try to kill me, I'm throwing you into a damn trash can."
Rika gave a small smile. "Deal. But if you turn out to be a secret monster… I will buzzsaw you again."
"…Fair."
And so, the strangest alliance in Hinamizawa history was born.
Loop 501 began.
To be continued
Hope people like this ch and give me power stones and enjoy, expect 3 ch A week and this is in the same universe as my FNAF X Touho: Golden soul