Chapter 1 – The Girl Who Wants to Die

~Author’s Note~

The book version was released by Takarajimasha Bunko on March 4, 2021.
It has been heavily revised and expanded compared to the web version. From Chapter 2 onward, there are scenes that develop differently, so if you are considering purchasing the book and want to try reading first, I recommend reading Chapters 1–4 of the web version.

I’m interfering with a girl’s suicide.

That girl is always alone.

That girl tries to kill herself often.

That girl is somehow similar to me.

She’s probably the same as me—
just living is painful for her.

Maybe it would be better for her if I didn’t interfere.

But I’ll keep interfering until she gives up.

Stopping someone from committing suicide isn’t actually that difficult.

You just arrive at the suicide spot before them,
and when the girl shows up, you take her somewhere to hang out.

1

It was a calm, sunny day in April.

That morning, I was already standing on the station platform.

From the direction the train would soon pass through, I was sitting on a bench near the back of the platform.

It was rush hour—students and office workers crowded around me, waiting for trains.

A group of students with uniforms that still looked unfamiliar were fooling around loudly. Judging from their oversized uniforms and childish faces, they were probably brand-new first-year middle schoolers.

Behind them, three high school girls were chatting cheerfully. Next to them stood a student couple, giving off that innocent, awkward atmosphere typical of young love.

I looked away from them and up at the sky, letting out a small sigh.

They looked dazzling to me—people walking smoothly along the rails of a life already laid out before them.

Not dazzling because of their youth.

No… the truth was simply that I was too jealous to keep looking.

The difference between “me during my student days” and “them standing here now” was like the difference between heaven and earth.

My school life had been completely miserable.

I didn’t have anyone I could call a friend. It wasn’t that I preferred being alone either.

If someone asked me in an interview,
“Tell us your happiest memory from your school days,”
I would probably fall silent and think for a long time.

Not because I had too many happy memories to choose from.

But because I didn’t have even a single one.

There had been one short exception—but looking back now, it had turned into nothing more than a dark chapter of my past.

Even so, if my only dissatisfaction was my student life, that would have been a blessing.

The same feeling came over me whenever I looked at the office workers.

I had graduated high school, but I didn’t go to university.
I didn’t get a job either.

Now twenty years old, my life had already derailed from its tracks.

“How did they end up with lives like that?”

I had tilted my head over that question countless times since my student days.

But no matter how many times I thought about it, the conclusion was always the same.

I never had that possibility to begin with.

It wasn’t that I made the wrong choices.

The rails of my life must have been broken from the moment I was born.

The idea that making the right choices leads to a happy ending exists only in games.

Some lives end badly no matter what you choose.
Some lives don’t even have choices to begin with.

And I happened to draw that kind of life.

No matter what I did, my life would never become like the students or office workers standing in front of me.

And thinking about it now was pointless anyway.

It was already too late for me.

That’s why I still don’t know how to truly stop someone from committing suicide.

How can I make her give up on dying?

Thinking that, I stared at the girl standing on the platform.

She was standing behind the waiting line for the very last door of the last train car.

Even farther back than the line itself.

In other words, she was standing alone at the exact spot where a train would rush past.

She wasn’t there to watch trains.

She wasn’t taking photos either.

In fact, I had never once seen her with a phone or a camera.

So why was she standing there?

I knew the answer.

The back of the platform was where trains approached at full speed.
If someone wanted to jump in front of one, it was the perfect spot.

Of course, anyone glancing at her would never imagine that.

But the girl standing there was waiting to jump.

Her name was Tsukimi Ichinose.

A third-year middle school student—and the girl whose suicides I kept interfering with.

She had long, straight black hair reaching down her back.

Her body was slender, her skin pale, and her face beautiful.

Because her legs were long, she looked slightly taller than girls her age, giving her a mature appearance.

If she were in a normal class, she would probably be popular among the boys.

In short—

She looked like the type of girl who had nothing to do with suicide.

Yet here I was, watching the platform since morning to stop her from doing exactly that.

Ichinose already attracted attention with her beautiful black hair.

But surrounded by students in uniform, the fact that she was wearing casual clothes made her stand out even more.

Her outfit was still somewhat childish despite her mature appearance.

Standing where the train would pass by made her even easier to spot in the crowd.

As I kept watching her, an announcement began to play.

A train would soon pass through the station.

Ichinose was about to jump in front of that train.

The electronic board flashed the warning:

“A train is approaching. Please be careful.”

I stood up from the bench and quietly moved behind her so she wouldn’t notice.

She was watching the train approaching the station.

She hadn’t noticed me.

The noise grew louder as the train got closer.

Ichinose began walking toward the tracks.

I carefully followed behind her.

Right before the train entered the platform—

She stepped over the yellow safety line.

And at that moment, the train blared its horn.

The sound was so loud it made me want to cover my ears.

All the conversations on the platform suddenly stopped.

It felt like time had frozen—everything except the train.

With a thunderous roar, the train shot past us at tremendous speed.

The gust of wind sent Ichinose’s long black hair flying into the air.

In an instant, the train had passed.

The roar faded into the distance.

Ichinose slowly followed the hand gripping her arm—

until her eyes reached my face.

When she recognized me, she looked extremely displeased.

As the noise faded, time seemed to start moving again.

Voices returned to the platform.

“Man, that scared me!”
“Dude, you’re such a wimp.”

A group of boys laughed nearby.

“Wait—what happened? Was that a suicide attempt?”
The high school girls whispered while staring at us.

“If you’re gonna kill yourself, do it somewhere else!”
an annoyed office worker shouted.

Ignoring all those voices and stares, I snorted.

“That was a close call.”

“I almost managed to die.”

Ichinose pouted while still being held by my grip.

She was clearly sulking.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you gave up on suicide?”

When I said that, she made a face like she’d heard it a thousand times.

This wasn’t the first time she had tried to kill herself.

In the past four months, she had attempted suicide twelve times.

And every single time, I stopped her.

“This makes twelve times I’ve saved you. Don’t you get it yet? It’s always the same.”

“It’s not saving. It’s interfering.”

She looked away as she said that, then muttered quietly:

“I’ve told you many times you don’t need to save me.”

It was always like this.

She only thought of it as interference.

And honestly, I was aware that I was interfering.

Which was probably why she disliked me more every time I stopped her.

“I’m never giving up.”

She shook my hand off forcefully and began walking away alone.

I followed her and continued persuading her.

“I’ll keep interfering until you give up on suicide.”

“You’re literally saying you’ll keep interfering…”

“Yeah. As many times as it takes.”

When I laughed in response to her sigh, she looked at me with annoyance.

“…Why do you always know what I’m going to do?”

She had asked that same question several times before.

She never attempted suicide at the same place or time.

Yet somehow I always arrived before her.

Naturally, she found it strange.

“Asking that again, huh? Well… maybe it’s about time I told you.”

I put my hand on my chin and looked at her seriously.

For once, Ichinose stopped walking and looked at me.

Usually I brushed the question off with something like,
“I’ll tell you when you stop trying to kill yourself.”

So my response surprised her.

“Well, you see…”

I deliberately dragged it out.

She looked at me expectantly.

“That is…?”

She was unusually curious.

Her clear eyes looked almost earnest.

But my answer today was the same as always.

“Actually, I’ll tell you when you stop trying to kill yourself.”

The earnestness instantly vanished from her eyes.

With a cold expression she said,

“Never mind. Goodbye.”

And she started walking away again.

I sighed and followed her.

“I told you—I’ll tell you once you stop trying to kill yourself.”

She didn’t reply and simply walked faster.

While keeping up so I wouldn’t lose her, I took a silver pocket watch from my pocket and checked the time.

“Oh right. Did you think of somewhere you want to go?”

I called out to her back.

“Of course not,” she replied.

“You promised you’d think of somewhere before next time.”

“I never promised that. And someone who’s about to die doesn’t have places they want to go.”

“…Come on. There has to be somewhere. At least somewhere you’d want to visit before dying.”

While I was sighing at her indifferent attitude, she asked:

“And if I did have somewhere I wanted to go?”

“I’d take you there right now.”

She thought for a moment, then turned toward me and said:

“Then I want to go to the afterlife. Please take me there.”

She smiled triumphantly.

For a moment she looked bright and innocent—like a normal girl her age.

Her unexpected answer left me speechless.

“…You asked me to name a place. Now respond properly,” she said, returning to her annoyed expression.

“You want to make me a murderer?”

“If you can’t take me to the afterlife, I’m going home.”

As she started walking again, I quickly grabbed her hand.

I couldn’t leave her alone right now.

There was something she didn’t know.

There were times when I couldn’t interfere with her suicide.

Especially right after stopping her.

If she tried again immediately, I wouldn’t be able to stop it.

That’s why I had to take her somewhere after interfering.

“…Let go of my hand.”

“I need you to stay with me for at least two hours.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t want to go home anyway, right?”

She fell silent and looked down.

Apparently I had hit the mark.

From her past behavior, it was obvious she didn’t want to go home.

When I first met her, she wouldn’t even talk to me.

Back then I simply followed her around.

She would sit on park swings, stare at the river, and waste time until evening without going home.

She rarely carried money.

I had seen her counting coins in front of vending machines several times.

One day, I couldn’t bear watching her drink water from a park faucet, so I bought her a canned drink.

That was the first time we talked.

After that I started taking her to family restaurants and other places.

Eventually, she began going somewhere with me after I stopped her suicide attempts.

Though every time, I still had to persuade her first.

“So, where do you want to go today?”

“…I told you. There’s nowhere.”

She sounded sulky, but it wasn’t a bad answer.

If she truly refused, she would either ignore me or reject me outright.

I had learned that through experience.

She had never willingly followed me before, but coming with me meant she wouldn’t have to worry about lunch.

At the very least, she didn’t seem to truly hate it.

“Alright. Let’s just wander around somewhere again today.”

I pulled her hand gently.

She nodded slightly and followed behind me.

That’s how I always stopped her suicides.

But no matter how many times I interfered, Ichinose never gave up on dying.

A few weeks later—

sometimes even just a few days—

she would try again.

I planned to keep interfering until she gave up.

But there was one problem.

My life didn’t have much time left.

Not because of illness.

I had obtained a watch in exchange for my lifespan.

And of course—

it wasn’t an ordinary watch.

It was a watch that could turn back time.