I Won't Be a Loser

Writing can be an interesting process, but more often than not, it becomes tedious. Sitting at his desk, Haruto had only managed to write half a page before putting down his pen. Leaning back in his chair, he slowly lifted his gaze to the ceiling, lost in silence.

At first, he had thought the idea was fascinating. When he started writing, he had been filled with excitement. But, as always, after just a few days, the passion faded.

Now, it felt like he was just going through the motions—sitting at his desk, steadily filling in the story that had once ignited his enthusiasm.

"Well, at least it only needs to be around 200,000 words. I've already written close to 50,000, so that leaves about 150,000 to go. One month… might be pushing it. But two months? That should be doable."

Sitting quietly at his desk, Haruto rubbed his temples, reminiscing about the days when he had a computer.

"The first thing I'll do when I have money is buy a laptop for writing. This is way too much of a hassle."

The sound of boiling water reached his ears, prompting him to stand and walk to the kitchen. He poured the hot water into a cup, watching the barley tea steep—at first clear, then gradually turning a rich amber hue. Holding the cup carefully by the rim with his thumb and forefinger, he carried it back to his desk.

Not in the mood to continue writing, he pulled out his textbooks from his bag, deciding to focus on his studies instead.

Just as he was getting into the flow of solving problems, the doorbell rang.

Furrowing his brows slightly, he glanced toward the door.

Could it be Setsuna?

His gaze flicked to the bouquet of flowers he had bought from the shop earlier. If it really was her, he could hand them over now.

With that thought, he got up and walked to the door, placing his hand on the doorknob. But when he opened it, the person standing there was someone he hadn't expected at all.

A blonde girl stood before him. She wasn't wearing her school uniform but instead a white shirt layered with a green-patterned wool cardigan. She paired it with pure black shorts, her slender, snow-white legs wrapped in knee-high black stockings.

With a refined yet slightly distant demeanor, she stood quietly at his doorstep.

Thick-rimmed black glasses framed her face, and though she was looking directly at him, there was no trace of joy in her expression—only calm indifference.

"....."

Haruto almost blurted out his confusion, but before the words left his mouth, he caught himself. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door wider, silently inviting her in.

A slight smirk played at Eriri's lips as she stepped over the threshold. With a smooth motion, she closed the door behind her.

"Change your shoes."

Haruto placed a pair of spare slippers on the floor in front of her. She nudged off her leather shoes, slipped into the slippers, and wordlessly walked further inside, her eyes scanning the familiar yet subtly changed surroundings.

"It's different from before," she noted. "There used to be a bookshelf here. You haven't bought a new one?"

"Don't need one for now. Besides, I don't have enough money to waste on books."

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Haruto watched as she examined the room, then asked the obvious question.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to see the place you live in now," Eriri said, her tone even. "You keep your distance from me, yet you're still living here?"

Haruto remained silent. There was no way he could explain the strange, almost supernatural circumstances behind his situation. He simply sat on the bed, watching her without offering an explanation.

Eriri's gaze fell on the bouquet sitting on his desk. Her eyes narrowed slightly before she turned her head to look at him.

"What's with the flowers?"

"They're a gift."

"For who?"

"Someone you don't know. My… current girlfriend."

Haruto lifted his head and met her gaze as he answered.

Yet, to his surprise, Eriri showed no particular reaction.

No shock, no anger—just quiet acceptance.

It was as if, with all the weight of the past pressing on her, she had already come to expect this answer. She wasn't the same impulsive, hot-headed girl he had once known.

She had already heard about the possibility from her mother. But now that she had confirmed it with her own ears, an unpleasant feeling settled in her chest.

Even so, she kept her emotions in check.

Walking over to the desk, she glanced at the bouquet one last time before turning back to face Haruto.

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at him from where she stood.

And for the first time, Haruto felt a shift in their dynamic.

"What do you mean girlfriend?"

"A girlfriend is just that—a girlfriend. What's there to explain? I'm tired, Eriri. I don't want to keep dwelling on the past anymore. Right now, nothing has happened yet. You and I are just ordinary classmates. So, isn't it normal for me to have a girlfriend?"

Looking at the girl standing before him—the familiar face, the condescending gaze—Haruto fell silent for a moment. Slowly, he lowered his head, cupping his face with both hands, rubbing his cheeks lightly. After letting out a long breath, he looked back at her.

His gaze was no longer as calm and clear as it usually was.

The exhaustion and bitterness he had buried deep within himself surfaced once again. Eriri, staring at Haruto, felt as if she had been transported back to that dark room—back to the sight of the man curled up in the corner, his sleeping face twisted in pain.

Her heart ached slightly, yet she bit her lip in frustration, her eyes glaring at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. I have a girlfriend now, and it's not Sayuri. That means I have nothing to do with her anymore. Didn't you hate it when I had any connection with Sayuri? Well, congratulations, Eriri. Your wish has come true. I won't go near her anymore."

Lifting his head, Haruto met her gaze and smiled.

Looking at the girl in front of him—her face full of confusion, her suppressed anger barely contained—he couldn't help but let his lips curl upward. The burden he had carried in his heart felt significantly lighter now that he had spoken his mind.

When Haruto first found himself back in high school, he had been shocked. Then, there was a fleeting sense of joy at getting a second chance at life. But that feeling was faint. More than anything, he felt lost.

He had told himself he would set his life back on track, yet, even now, it still didn't feel real. Instead, what weighed on his mind the most was the matter of the Sawamura mother and daughter. He couldn't shake off the feeling that this was all just a dream—one he would wake from, only to find himself back in that dark room.

For someone like Haruto, who had already grown accustomed to a life devoid of light, this new reality was blinding. It didn't feel real—it was like watching a movie, or living in a dream that could shatter at any moment.

Dazed, he had gone along with everything—until Eriri confronted him today. When she demanded an explanation, Haruto, who had been holding back for so long, finally let his suppressed emotions spill out, laying everything bare before her.

As he closed his eyes and finished speaking his piece, an overwhelming sense of relief washed over him. He opened his eyes again, smiling at the girl before him.

"If, back then, Sayuri chose to end her life to escape reality, then now—when none of that has happened yet, when she's still alive and well—there is no reason for me to feel guilty or regretful. I owe you nothing, Eriri."

The long years, the painful memories, all those beautiful moments that turned into emotional burdens—Haruto never had the courage to end his own life. He merely clung to existence, barely scraping by in the shadows of the city, waiting for time to take its course.

But now, time had rewound, undoing everything that had once happened. He had not yet met Sayuri. He had no idea why Eriri still remembered everything, but as long as no one else did, it was enough.

"Do you really think that as long as no one else remembers, you can just pretend that nothing ever happened?"

Eriri bit her lip hard, her pale fingers clenching into fists so tight that her knuckles turned white. Her eyes burned into Haruto.

Now that he had said everything, there was no need for him to pretend anymore—no need to act like he didn't know anything or hide the guilt he felt toward her. The weight on his heart was gone, and he felt lighter than he had in a long time.

"But the truth is, nothing has happened. Aside from you and me, who else remembers? I don't know why we retained our memories while time reset, but one thing is certain—I owe you nothing, Eriri."

"And yet, I still remember everything. That alone is proof of what you owe me. Haruto, you're not the only one burdened by those memories!" {T/N: Bitch you killed him, wtf does he owes you.}

"..."

Haruto looked at the girl before him and fell silent. He couldn't exactly say she was wrong.

"Then tell me—why is it that no one else remembers, yet you and I do?"

After a brief pause, Haruto finally asked the question that had been on his mind.

He had always assumed that his return to the past was due to "time reversal"—a mysterious ability he wasn't even sure he possessed. But Eriri should be an ordinary person. She shouldn't have experienced the same thing.

"..."

Standing in the room, Eriri furrowed her brows, trying to recall why she had memories of the future—why, like Haruto, she had returned to the past.

Then—

"Ugh!"

A sudden wave of nausea overtook her. Covering her mouth with both hands, she bent over, retching uncontrollably. Haruto, startled, quickly stood up, grabbing her trembling shoulders. Their bodies pressed together as he hastily helped her to the bathroom.

He guided her to the sink, where she gripped the edges tightly, her entire body shaking as she let out painful, guttural retches—

"Ugh—hrrk—hkk...!"

Watching her sudden reaction, Haruto's eyes flickered with uncertainty. But he remained silent, stepping out of the bathroom to fetch her a glass of water.

The sounds of her retching continued for several minutes before finally subsiding. The water ran for a moment, then stopped. When Eriri emerged, her face was pale, her expression weary. She looked at Haruto, who was waiting in the room.

"Here, drink some water."

He held out the glass. Eriri hesitated for a moment but eventually reached out and took it.

"T-Thank you."

"Hearing you say 'thank you' is honestly a surprise."

Glancing at her, Haruto fell silent for a moment before finally asking,

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine now."

"What just happened? Are you feeling unwell? Or is this... some kind of side effect?"

Eriri's hands trembled slightly as she held the glass. She lowered her head, averting her gaze. After a brief silence, she set the glass down.

"I just remembered something I need to take care of at home. I should go. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

With that, she turned and walked toward the door. Haruto watched her hurried figure, his mind unable to ignore the unease bubbling within him.

Just as Eriri reached the door—

Ding-dong—

The sudden chime of the doorbell made her freeze. She turned back to look at Haruto in confusion.

Haruto glanced toward the door. With slow steps, he approached Eriri, standing beside her as he reached for the doorknob. Without hesitation, he pulled the door open.

Standing outside was someone he fully expected—Setsuna.

After seeing off Kotonoha and Sekai, Setsuna had assumed Haruto was home since the curtains were drawn. She had planned to visit him, but when the door opened, she was met not only with Haruto but also with a beautiful blonde girl standing beside him. Eriri's pale face, red-eyes—clearly, she had been crying.

Setsuna's heart skipped a beat as she turned her gaze to Haruto.

—