I wake up at 7:02 in the morning.
It's a Thursday.
June 7th, 2000.
I roll out of bed, as one usually does.
The morning air which usually felt cold and heavy now had an almost liquid sensation.
As if every movement was like wading through water.
The sun is too bright through the overcast sky.
There's a low hum that can be heard in the distance.
I stare at the digital clock that taunts me every morning.
I stare as hard as one can.
The clock blinks twice.
Two long blinks, before appearing again as 7:04.
I couldn't have been staring for two whole minutes.
I make for the window, and glance outside to find a single leaf falling upwards.
I rub my eyes to ensure I'm not hallucinating, but alas, the leaf falls upwards.
My mind flashes to my dream revolving around Abigail, and a woman who ended said dream before my eyes.
A single violet flower sits on my desk.
Its petals still glistening with dew, and a silver strand of hair intwined between its being.
I reach for it.
"You're not dreaming, Shiro."
Echoes through my head like a bad memory.
"Not again…" I mutter to myself before throwing on my jacket.
I make my way downstairs and prepare myself to be greeted by my mother.
As I turn the corner down a familiar hallway, I find the kitchen with no mother in sight.
"Mum? Dad? Ni-No?" I call, expecting one response.
But, nothing.
Just the low ambient humming call of the unknown.
A newspaper sits open on the dinner table.
I approach it as if it was a harbinger of horrible things to come, to which I usually have a good feel for.
'June 8th, 2000.' It reads.
'God Found Dead Inside Abandoned Tower!' Appears in bold letters at the top of the page, accompanied by a flattering photo of our very God herself, sitting against the Clock Tower with puncture wounds decorating every inch of her body.
I ignore this false reality put my shoes on and leave for school, all in less than two pages.
The walk to school usually involves students and members of the workforce of all shapes and sizes, but today, I find myself walking a completely empty street.
No students, no buses, no cars, nothing.
I press onwards, assuming I'm late and nobody has a reason to be outside at this time.
As I arrive to the large prison-reminiscent building, I find the same familiar hallways - which are usually filled with students waiting to go home - entirely scarce.
The lockers are hollow and empty, or thrown open with papers scattered from the force.
I pick up a single sheet to find it void of all ink or lead.
Blank sheets of paper.
I fold the sheet and place it in my back pocket.
The first lesson is usually maths, so that should be my first destination.
The classroom to Mrs Late is never enthusiastic. How could it be? But as I looked through the window, I never expected the whole class to be zombified in their chairs.
They look basically dead!
I walk in and sit in my chair as if nothing happened, and reach for my bag.
In the moment I touch my maths book, the loud and imposing sound of the bell rings clearly through my ears.
Yet, no-one moves.
No-one gets up to make their way to the next period.
The hallways portray a perfect picture of perpetual movement, but no face passes by.
I remove myself from the classroom.
I make for the next class, which is usually english.
As I walk, echoes of familiar voices pass by me, over and over, overlapping one another.
Memories of laughter.
Memories of joy.
Memories of times we defeated Rioca or found a way out of the cage.
Dozens.
Dozens turn to hundreds.
I turn to a window and find my reflection looking clearer than ever.
My hair ruffled up like I haven't washed it in years.
Did I always look like this?
Amidst my reflection, I notice two silhouettes pressing towards me.
Their laughters sound familiar, but I only recognise Violet's obnoxious yet playful laugh.
Suddenly a voice fills the hallway.
"You used to walk a lot faster than this."
The voice sounds authoritative. Stern, yet caring.
I turn quickly to find who's speaking.
No-one is there.
As a I arrive to english class, I continue to inspect the strange happenings around me.
So far, nothing too out of the ordinary.
I proceed to my chair next to Richard Rossland to find the most peculiar thing of all.
Richard isn't here.
Richard Rossland, the boy who would rather study than play for years just in case a game was a difference between an A grade and a B grade.
Richard Rossland who demanded Abigail and I visit him in hospital with a full detailed manifesto of every lesson he missed, only to end up coming back to class the next day because 'Abigail writes too formally'.
I decide that zombie english is not in my best interests.
I don't even remove my bag or jacket before getting back up and pressing towards the courtyard.
The fire doors swing open as if the hinges were made of twigs.
The familiar smell of tarmac and astro turf fills my nostrils, quickly replaced by the smell of the mascot willow tree which stands proud on the only natural patch of grass left.
I plant myself by the bark and allow my eyes to drift. The wind blows the smell of the leaves around me, like a hurricane of tranquility.
Amongst the breeze, a faint voice is heard.
"Roots remember even when trees die."
I hold out my hand to find a single cherry blossom petal descend into my palm.
I look up to find an auburn-haired woman with a star mark under her left eye. She wears the same purple tracksuit I've only ever seen on Violet.
She sits atop a wall that separates the school from freedom.
She glances at me and speaks casually as if an old friend or tutor.
"You still don't remember me, do you?"
"Am I supposed to?"
"No…" She chuckles. "That's what makes this interesting."
She hops down from the wall, which immediately soars in height following her dismount.
As she falls in seemingly slow motion, her heels pierce the space beneath her, contorting the shadow of the tree into a spiral which cushions her endless descent.
She reaches out her hand and I hand mine out in blind habit.
She places a sword-shaped charm into my hand, atop the cherry blossom petal.
"Keep it." She insists. "You're gonna need to remember how to feed it again."
She turns to leave into the sunset without elaborating further.
As she leaves, the sun flares brightly and unnaturally. Pulsing as if the sun itself is hyperventilating.
As the sun begins the give up, a thin line of black slices through the sky like a vertical scar.
The birds cease flying midair, frozen as if held in place by puppet strings.
The charm in my hand vibrates and warms up as if hungry for something.
"The Tower is waking up."Says the woman's voice from above.
An object vibrates from in my jacket pocket where the sheet of paper lay.
It appears to be a flip phone.
I open it to find: 'June 8th, 2000'.
I close it and make for the school's interior.
The fire doors are usually heavy and/or impossible to open by normal means, but today, I walk through the door as if it was made of a single silk sheet.
I make for the closest classroom and find one person leaning against the blackboard.
Standing with a lollipop in her mouth, wearing a lolita costume, the auburn-haired woman seems to have made it clear that she wishes to teach me something.
I enter the classroom in familiar fashion - late.
"You're late, Shiro."
"Sorry, Sensei." I respond as if it were sewn into my DNA.
"You're starting to remember." She says, a smile growing on her charming face. "You've forgotten quite a lot, haven't you?"
"Well, a lot has happened…"
Upon my saying that, the classroom transforms into a bleak and desolate field.
The same field where Abi…
"That's no excuse for forgetting your training." She battles. "What's the first rule?"
"Everything has a center of gravity?" I answer as if I've said this a thousand times before. "And that gravity can be controlled if you teach it how to remember that gravity."
"So I could turn normal green tea into…"
"Red tea?"
"Rooibos tea, you slacker." She laughs as sharp as a dagger. "You haven't been studying at all."
"Studying what? Tea?" I ask, as honestly as possible.
"Studying the fundamentals of peace." She answers as if the answer was obvious. "I made them myself. They're-"
"Reading, movies, cats, beaches, and tea."
"Right!" Applauses my master as a classroom door manifests where I walked through earlier. "We don't have much longer."
"Teach me something else." I plead.
"I'll teach you more when the sky calms." She says, pointing at the sky which shines red as if the cosmos themselves were set ablaze. "Do you see that? That's where everything we wanted went to die."
"You sound familiar with it."
"I built the stars once." As she reaches towards the sky and plucks a single star, holding it in the palm of her hand.
The sky and the ground switch places as the stars hover ominously around us.
Cosmic dust and spatial lights glimmer around our limbs and fingers as my master sits down next to me on the dead grass.
Upon her sitting, the grass immediately springs to life as if answering her call.
She pats the ground next to her.
I answer the call and sit beside her.
For some reason, my mind flashes memories of a younger master teaching me about the black-hole sword.
"Does it hurt when you die?" She asks, almost innocent in nature.
I hesitate to respond, but eventually I find the words.
"You never get used to it."
"You remember a bit more now, don't you?" She asks. "I stayed behind to protect the information you were going to forget. Little did I know, you'd forget nearly everything. It took a whole lot to keep you alive in Sole Station."
"You helped me then, too?"
"Well, duuh! Where'd you think those sweet moves came from? Yours truly!" She parades, giving herself a thumbs up. "Now that you're here, I can go back too."
"Why did we make a weapon as crazy as this?" I ponder.
"Crazy? You mean awesome! And we made it because you wanted something that could protect everything. I wanted you to remember why."
She looks at the door, which rattles and shakes with anticipation.
"Looks like time's up." She says, as a parade of cats pour through the classroom door and envelop her.
As the mountain of cats disperse into a scatter of tiny squeaks, the woman appears to have left the space entirely.
I open up my new phone one more time to find it reads 'June 6th, 2000'.
What the hell is going on here?
I close the phone and find myself somehow back in my room.
The clock on my bedside table reads 22:10, so I take the initiative to try and sleep now.
Like old times, before the shadow monster killed me five-hundred times.
I lay my head upon my pillow and immediately find that I cannot sleep.
My eyes force themselves open every time I close them.
For some reason, it feels like I still have unfinished business.
I try to roll over to one side, but I'm interrupted by the voice of the auburn-haired woman again. As if she's behind me.
"You remember my sword, don't you? The black one that borrowed the stars?"
"That was… yours?"
"No. You made it, I just showed you how to feed it." She says, still as blunt as I remember. "And you are dreaming. But like… not really."
My eyes shoot open.
My nose trickles with blood.
I check my hand which held the charm, and find a faint burn mark in the shape of a spiral.
So she was real.