Chapter 9 — Warning

It was June 25th, Thursday, sunny—the second year since I gave away my lifespan.

On that day, Ichinose attempted suicide for the nineteenth time.

More than three weeks had passed since her previous attempt.

For her to go three whole weeks without trying to kill herself was unprecedented—so unusual it wouldn’t have been strange if it made the front page of the newspaper. Normally I should have been happy that the frequency of her suicide attempts had decreased.

But I didn’t have the energy to feel happy.

For the past week, I’d barely slept. I had been constantly checking the news and the internet. I couldn’t shake the suspicion: was it really possible for someone like Ichinose to go three weeks without attempting suicide?

Normally, I checked online news and railway reports every three hours.

The reason I checked so frequently was simple: the moment she committed suicide, I had to know immediately so I could rewind time.

If I failed to turn back time within twenty-four hours after her death, it would be too late. I also needed time to get ahead of the scene of her suicide and gather information about it. If I rewound time with some margin to spare, I could shorten the time I had to monitor Ichinose as well.

Because of that, ever since I met her, my daily life had completely changed.

Honestly, this lifestyle was exhausting.

Even after checking carefully, I’d start doubting myself—What if I missed something?—and end up searching endlessly. Since I had to wake up every three hours, getting proper sleep was impossible.

And no matter how careful I was, if the news report was delayed—or worse, never reported—it would be over in an instant.

If Ichinose committed suicide at home, would it even be reported?

Probably not.

Until now, everything had simply aligned miraculously.

The day Ichinose’s life ended could easily pass by without warning.

That was why this stretch of time had been terrifying.

When two weeks passed after her last attempt and still no report appeared, anxiety and impatience began to overwhelm me.

Did I overlook something?
What if she already killed herself and it just wasn’t reported?

Eventually, I started checking every two hours.

Or rather… I simply couldn’t sleep.

Even when lying in bed, I kept worrying:

What if the news breaks in a few minutes?
Did I forget to set the alarm?

My phone never left my hand.

Eventually I would start dozing off without noticing, but even in my dreams I was still searching for news, so the fatigue never went away.

After living like that for over a week, the suicide report finally appeared.

A middle school girl had jumped in front of a train from a station platform.

It was the same station Ichinose always used for her attempts. Even without her name being reported, I knew it was her.

There was still plenty of time left.

Relief washed over me.

But that relief led to carelessness.

Normally I would pretend to be an informant or something similar to confirm the exact platform and position where she jumped before rewinding time.

But this time, exhausted as I was, I rewound time without checking the exact location.

Until now she had always jumped from the very back of the platform.

So I assumed this time would be the same.

After rewinding time, I headed straight to the very back of the platform.

But Ichinose wasn’t there.

I watched from a distance for a while, but she never appeared. Time continued to pass. Even when the train she supposedly jumped in front of was shown on the departure board, she still didn’t show up.

That was when I realized something was wrong.

I started running along the platform, scanning the area.

And then—

Ichinose crossed in front of me.

She seemed to notice me too. We both turned around at the same time and our eyes met.

The moment I saw her awkward expression, the tension inside me snapped and all the strength drained from my body.

“Seriously… you made me worry.”

I said it with a deep sigh.

Ichinose looked confused.

“What are you talking about?”

She had been standing slightly behind the middle of the platform.

The train would have slowed down a little by the time it reached that point, but it was still more than enough for someone to jump.

Had she planned to move to the back after the announcement?

Or was she planning to jump from here as a feint?

I was curious, but exhaustion and sleepiness washed over me. Without asking, we headed to the movie theater.

This time we watched three randomly chosen movies.

Well—watched might not be the right word.

I slept through all of them.

I worried that Ichinose might run away and try to kill herself while I slept, but I was far too tired to resist the pull of sleep.

Each time a movie ended, she woke me up.

By the time the third one finished, it was already evening.

As soon as we stepped out of the theater, I let out a huge yawn.

“You look pale today,” Ichinose said. “You should really get proper sleep.”

What a helpful warning.

“It’s your fault I couldn’t sleep,” I replied while stretching.

“Again… what are you talking about?” she said, confused once more.

On the way back, I tried to persuade her again and again.

“Don’t ever try to kill yourself again.”

“If something happens, call me.”

But Ichinose only replied:

“I’ll think about it.”

She didn’t sound like she actually would.

“Don’t bother being careful on your way home.”

“Wait—weren’t you supposed to say be careful going home? Don’t try to trick me.”

“If you fall for it, that’s your fault.”

By the time we parted ways in front of the station, the sky had already grown dark.

Those had been the longest three weeks of my life.

Thinking that this same lifestyle would continue until she finally gave up on suicide was depressing.

But for now, I wanted to savor the sense of accomplishment from successfully stopping her again.

More than anything, confirming that Ichinose was safe was a huge relief.

As the weight lifted from my shoulders, a sudden wave of hunger hit me.

Lately I hadn’t just been sleep-deprived—I’d also lost my appetite.

I decided to have dinner at a family restaurant before going home.

Normally my meals consisted of eating out, delivery, convenience store lunches, or cup noodles.

Since my appetite had dropped, I’d mostly been living on instant ramen.

Not that someone like me—who only had two years left to live—really needed to worry about healthy eating.

Still, if I had an appetite, I wanted a proper meal.

I entered a nearby family restaurant and sat down on the sofa of a two-person table in the corner.

I chose the corner because there were families and groups of students inside.

I ordered hayashi rice, peperoncino, and a salad—and finished everything.

Afterward, while drinking a glass of water before heading home—

“Long time no see.”

The person who spoke startled me.

I choked on my water too.

Standing before me was—

the Grim Reaper.

Dressed entirely in black.

Unhealthy pale skin.

White hair.

Aside from the coffee in her hand, she looked exactly the same as the day we first met.

While I was coughing, the Grim Reaper calmly sat down in the chair across from me.

“I didn’t expect we’d meet again.”

Since the day she gave me the silver watch, I hadn’t seen her once.

We hadn’t exchanged contact information. I thought we’d never meet again.

Not that I particularly wanted to.

“I came today to give you a warning.”

The Grim Reaper said this and slowly took a sip of coffee.

A warning?

I thought about it.

Today was June 25th—the second year since I gave away my lifespan.

It was also the halfway point of my remaining three years.

Had she come all the way here just to tell me I now had a year and a half left?

“That’s not it,” she said, denying my thought.

“If things continue like this, you will regret it.”

She said it while staring directly into my eyes.

“Regret? What do you mean?”

“If you keep involving yourself with that girl—Ichinose Tsukimi—you will definitely regret giving away your lifespan.”

Her tone was certain.

Just like when she had instantly seen through me as someone who wanted to die.

If I kept interfering with Ichinose’s suicide, I’d regret giving up my life?

I didn’t understand what she meant.

But the expression on her face didn’t look like she was joking.

Could she really predict the future just by reading people’s hearts?

Well… she had already given me a watch that could rewind time.

Future sight didn’t seem impossible.

Still—

Either way, I couldn’t understand it.

Because there was no way I would ever regret giving up my lifespan.

“May I clear these?” the waitress asked.

While she collected the empty dishes, I kept thinking—but my conclusion didn’t change.

After the waitress left, the Grim Reaper sighed.

“You still don’t understand, do you?”

She spoke in a slightly annoyed tone.

“You’re essentially someone who committed suicide already, you know? Isn’t it strange for someone like you to interfere with another person’s suicide? It’s practically the same as saying it’s better to live than die. You chose suicide after struggling with your life. Are you planning to overturn that decision?”

“In other words,” I said, “if I keep trying to persuade Ichinose, I’ll end up wanting to live—and regret it?”

“Yes,” the Grim Reaper nodded.

I snorted.

“That’s impossible.”

“Even if she gives up on suicide, it has nothing to do with me. She’s dealing with bullying and family problems. That’s fundamentally different from my situation.”

“And besides,” I continued,

“You said it’s strange to interfere with someone else’s suicide. But it’s not strange at all. If you can read minds, you should already know this—there are plenty of people like me who want to at least help someone before they die.”

Before receiving the silver watch, I had often thought:

If I’m going to die, I want it to mean something.

Like saving a child who ran into the street chasing a ball and getting hit by a car instead.

Or rescuing a child trapped in a burning building, even if I died in the process.

The kind of deaths you see in manga.

You might call it self-sacrifice.

But that wasn’t really it.

If I died for someone else, then my life would finally have value.

A simple way for someone like me—who couldn’t face reality or improve myself—to gain worth.

I didn’t actually want to help people.

I just wanted to add some dignity to my life before it ended.

It was selfish hypocrisy.

Still, I was sure there were many people who thought the same way.

Even organ donation exists because people think:

If I die, I want to help someone.

“Then, Aiba-san,” the Grim Reaper said.

“Why don’t you save someone other than Ichinose Tsukimi?”

She continued smugly.

“There’s no need to go out of your way to save someone who wants to die. You could save people who die from accidents instead. With that silver watch, you could save many lives.”

“It’s not just about wanting to save someone,” I replied. “There’s another reason I’m stopping Ichinose.”

“I want to clear the fog in my heart.”

“That’s why she’s the most suitable person.”

“So… you sympathized with Ichinose Tsukimi.”

She set down her empty coffee cup and looked at me.

“Then why did you sympathize with her?”

“I… well…”

I hesitated.

“Because she resembled you, didn’t she?”

The Grim Reaper spoke triumphantly.

“Even if the reasons for suicide are different—you two are alike.”

It was true.

Sometimes Ichinose reminded me of my past self.

The way she was always alone.

The way she stood on the bridge staring at the scenery.

The way she watched families at the aquarium.

But so what?

“That doesn’t mean the thing that stops us from committing suicide will be the same.”

My life had been broken from the very beginning.

There was no way to fix it.

So there was no possibility that I’d ever want to live.

Ichinose—who suffered from bullying and family problems—was different.

“Is that really so?” the Grim Reaper said.

“If you keep looking only at the past, you might trip over your own feet.”

Her provoking tone was starting to irritate me.

“Trip over my own feet? That’s impossible. Even when I used the power of this silver watch to obtain the life I wanted, I still didn’t feel like living. Even if I look toward the future, the result won’t change.”

At my denial, the Grim Reaper chuckled.

“The life you obtained… was it truly what you desired—”