Hiyori's thoughts spiraled. How is this possible? she wondered. In the timeline she remembered, Ansh's father had died. Yet here he was, alive and well, welcoming her into his home.
The man showed her to a small guest room on the ground floor, explaining that Ansh's room was upstairs. "He's probably busy with work," he said when Hiyori asked if Ansh would be joining them for dinner. "You'll meet him in the morning."
Dinner was a quiet affair. Ansh's mother, a kind woman with gentle eyes, served simple but delicious food. As they ate, she reminisced about Hiyori's childhood.
"You and Ansh used to play so much together," she said with a fond smile.
Hiyori's heart skipped a beat. "I… don't remember that," she admitted hesitantly.
The older woman chuckled. "Oh, you were so young. It's no wonder."
But Hiyori's mind raced. Had there been a time jump? Or was this another ripple in the chaotic timeline she now inhabited?
After dinner, Hiyori was given a set of clothes to change into—Ansh's old clothes. The fabric was soft and familiar, the scent of detergent faint but comforting. As she sat on the bed in the dimly lit room, her thoughts turned to the notebook she had found earlier.
She pulled it out and opened it again, flipping through the pages. At first, the entries seemed mundane, detailing work schedules and errands. But as she read further, the tone shifted.
The notebook described events that sent chills down her spine: Ansh's father's death, her own death in the hospital, and the unraveling of the timeline. Each detail aligned with the memories she had struggled to piece together.
Her hands trembled as she turned to a fresh page near the back. The ink was still dark, as if it had been written recently. The words chilled her to the core:
"The timeline chaos stems from the war of the Untitled. The ripples began with the death of Ray, the young prince, who caused a great war, a mystery which is unresolved."
Hiyori stared at the page, her mind reeling. The notebook wasn't just a diary. It was a record of the timeline's collapse—a collapse she was now caught in.
Her breath hitched as the realization sank in. I'm not just looking for Ansh. I'm part of this chaos.
She clutched the notebook tightly, her resolve hardening. Whatever was happening, she couldn't let it consume her. Not again.
Hiyori couldn't sleep. The notebook's revelations swirled in her mind, each word heavy with implications. The anomaly remains unresolved. The phrase echoed like a haunting melody. She couldn't shake the feeling that the answers she sought were close—too close to ignore.
Her thoughts drifted to the room upstairs. Ansh's room. The place where he lived, breathed, and perhaps even held the key to the chaos enveloping her life.
Driven by an unshakable urge, Hiyori crept up the stairs, careful not to make a sound. The house was silent, the faint ticking of a clock the only noise accompanying her ascent.
When she reached the door, she hesitated, her hand hovering over the handle. A deep breath steadied her nerves before she turned the knob and stepped inside.
The room was dimly lit by moonlight streaming through the window. It was modest, with a neatly made bed, a desk cluttered with books, and a few personal mementos scattered around. Hiyori's heart raced as she took it all in, feeling as though she had stepped into another layer of her own memories.
But as she moved further into the room, a strange sensation overcame her—like static in the air, a charge that made her skin prickle. The room seemed to shimmer for a moment, the edges of her vision blurring.
Then, in an instant, everything shifted.
Hiyori blinked, disoriented. The room was the same, yet different. She turned, expecting to see the door behind her, but instead, she saw someone standing in the corner.
"Yuto?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
He stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "It's time," he said simply.
Before she could respond, she felt a pull, as though something deep within her was being unraveled. Her vision blurred again, and when she turned, she saw Ansh standing before her—but something was wrong.
Ansh's expression was one of shock, his hands reaching out as if to steady himself. "Hiyori?" he asked, his voice unsteady.
Hiyori froze. Her reflection in the window caught her attention, and what she saw made her stomach drop. It wasn't her.
It was Ansh.
Her voice trembled as she looked back at him. "You're… me?"
Ansh, now in her body, stared at her with equal confusion. "And you're me," he said softly, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Yuto nodded, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos swirling around them. "Now this," he said, gesturing between them, "is what the true timeline should have been."
Hiyori—or rather, Ansh in Hiyori's body—stepped back, her hands shaking. "What's happening? What did you do?"
Yuto crossed his arms. "The timeline has been fractured for too long. Your souls were never meant to cross paths in the way they did. This switch... it's a correction."
Hiyori turned to face him, anger and confusion warring within her. "You're saying I'm Ansh? And Ansh is… me? Why? How?"
Yuto sighed, his expression softening. "The timeline is collapsing because of anomalies created during the war of the Untitled. Your lives—your very existence—became entangled in a way that broke the natural flow of time. This," he said, gesturing between them again, "is the only way to repair it."
Ansh, now in Hiyori's body, spoke up, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "So, what happens now? You fix the timeline, and everything goes back to normal?"
"Not exactly," Yuto replied. "The repairs have been made, but the process will erase your memories of these events. When the timeline stabilizes, it will be as though this was all just a dream."
Hiyori's heart sank. "We won't remember any of this? Not each other?"
Yuto hesitated before nodding. "That's correct. But…" He paused, his gaze softening. "You have some time before the process is complete. I thought it only fair to give you that."
Hiyori and Ansh exchanged a look—one filled with confusion, anger, and an undercurrent of something deeper.
Yuto stepped back, his form beginning to blur. "I'll leave you to it," he said. "Use the time wisely."
And just like that, he was gone.
The room was silent, save for the sound of their uneven breathing. Hiyori, now in Ansh's body, sat down on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands.
"This doesn't make any sense," she muttered. "I spent so long trying to find you, and now… now this."
Ansh, in her body, leaned against the desk, his arms crossed. "I don't understand any of this either. But maybe…" He trailed off, his eyes meeting hers. "Maybe we can make sense of it together."
Hiyori looked up, her heart aching with a mix of emotions she couldn't fully name. The timeline was collapsing, their memories destined to fade—but for now, they had each other.
And for now, that would have to be enough.