The alarm clock screamed like a battle cry across an empty field. Seina opened her eyes, and the weight of reality—of the new reality—crashed onto her chest before she even sat up. Guilt tasted bitter in her mouth, heavy and cold in her stomach. She had failed—again.
The walk to school was a blur of gray sidewalks and indistinct faces. Her steps dragged, her red, puffy eyes hidden beneath messy bangs. The morning routine, once a dull inconvenience, now felt like a grotesque farce. How could the world keep spinning normally when, last night, Thalya had died alone?
The school was a muted hum. Seina avoided the cafeteria, the courtyard—anywhere she could be seen. She sank into the back row, wishing she could disappear. Every second that passed hammered against her conscience.
It was in the hallway, on her way to the second class, that she saw her.
Thalya stood by the water fountain—not drinking, just… waiting. Her shoulders were more slumped than usual, her violet eyes—normally so piercing—looked dim, with deep shadows beneath them. When her gaze met Seina's, there was no surprise. Only quiet pain—a wound that needed no words.
"You," Thalya's voice came out rough, almost a whisper. "You disappeared."
"I…" Seina tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "I texted you. It's just… work…"
"I know you text," Thalya cut in, her eyes fixed on some distant point down the hall. "You always text. But you weren't there."
It was the rawest truth. The promise had been broken.
"Thalya, I—"
"Break time," Thalya interrupted, finally meeting Seina's gaze with a renewed, but wounded, intensity. "On the rooftop. We need to talk."
The bell rang. Thalya turned and vanished into the crowd, leaving Seina frozen in the hallway, her heart in pieces.
The wind on the school rooftop was cold, carrying faint echoes of students down below. Thalya leaned against the railing, arms crossed, facing away from the view. Seina approached her like one might approach a wounded animal.
"I don't blame you," Thalya said bluntly, before Seina could speak. "I know your job is rough. You shouldn't even be there at night, in that place…" She shook her head, frustrated. "It's just that… when I woke up today, the first thing I felt was emptiness. Different. Like a part of the 'after' was missing."
Seina felt her eyes sting again. Thalya's confession hurt worse than anger.
"Mr. Kim made me cover stocking and cleaning, on top of the register," Seina burst out, the excuse tumbling out like a flood. "Three jobs for one paycheck. I was exhausted, my head was a mess, and when I saw the time…" She choked. The image of the masked figure flashed in her mind, but she pushed it away. This wasn't the moment. The guilt was hers, and hers alone. "I failed you. I'm sorry."
Thalya studied Seina's tired face. The tension in her shoulders softened.
"Forget it. I guess…" She paused, frowning as if trying to recall a dream. "I didn't text you either. And I don't even know why. What was I thinking? It's… weird."
The sentence dropped like a stone into calm water. To Thalya, it was a small, puzzling detail. To Seina, it was proof of something terrifying—the cycle repeating, erasing even Thalya's logic from the seventh day.
That was when the rooftop door burst open.
"Girls! What are you doing up here? The rooftop is off-limits!"
It was the math teacher, holding a pack of cigarettes.
"Thalya, you again? That's enough! Get down to the principal's office, now!"
He led them down the empty hallway, his voice echoing with reprimands. But as soon as the rooftop door shut behind them, isolating the three in silence, the conversation continued in urgent whispers while he walked ahead.
"I mean it, Thalya," Seina whispered, taking advantage of the moment. "I'll never let that happen again."
"I know," Thalya whispered back, her violet eyes locking onto Seina's with sudden seriousness. "But it's strange. Why didn't I call you? It doesn't make sense."
Before Seina could answer, the teacher stopped in front of the principal's office and turned around.
"All right. Since it's your first year here… you'll clean room 102 after class. That's the price of breaking the rules."
Seina's stomach twisted. "I can't, sir. I have to be at work by six."
The teacher frowned, but Thalya quickly stepped in.
"I'll do it alone. She has to work."
He hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. But you"—he pointed at Seina—"next time, there won't be a discussion."
He walked away, leaving the girls alone in the hall. The bell for the end of recess rang.
Thalya looked at Seina, a hint of worry on her face, but also a spark of that familiar mystery.
"See you later? Maybe I can keep you company at work."
It was a new thread, trying to weave itself over the black hole the reset had left in Thalya's memory.
Seina, her heart a little lighter but still heavy with an unspoken secret, nodded.
"Sure. See you later."