Gurgle—gurgle—
One by one, the instant noodles dropped into the boiling water, quickly softening under the heat.
Maki hummed a tune under her breath as she stirred the pot with chopsticks, then added the seasoning packets.
Steam filled the kitchen. Beside the sink, freshly washed utensils were laid out—chopsticks, a fork for Green , and several ceramic bowls.
"Honestly, next time, can you not knock like that? I almost thought we were under attack and nearly reset time on the spot."
Takakai sighed deeply, irritation clear in his voice as he sat on the living room couch.
Beside him, Kaguya massaged her temples, equally exasperated.
The early-morning intruder hadn't been a monster—just Sun Dajun, whose old-man sleep schedule had him up at 6 AM. After waiting impatiently for the others to wake, he'd enlisted Green to pick the lock of Room 204, only for the knock to startle Takakai and Kaguya into near-panic.
If Maki hadn't intervened—reaching through the door's broken panel to unlock it from the inside—the two might've rewound time unnecessarily.
"I'm sorry, really, I'm so sorry."
Sun Dajun bowed repeatedly; his face flushed with embarrassment.
"It's fine, I get it. But please, no more knocking. I swear, even if we escape this place, I'll have PTSD from door sounds."
Takakai exhaled heavily, then perked up as Maki emerged from the kitchen with a large pot of instant noodles.
"Stop scolding him. It's your fault for oversleeping. Especially you, Auntie. A daughter of the Shinomiya family, defeated by a hard floor? Pathetic."
Maki smirked as she portioned the noodles into bowls.
The artificial but comforting aroma of MSG and spices filled the air, making everyone's stomachs growl.
Takakai, despite claiming to be a "cup noodle purist", devoured three bowls.
Green, with his larger frame, matched him.
Kaguya and Maki managed only one small bowl each, pushing the food around with visible reluctance.
But the real surprise was Sun Dajun, who nearly finished four servings before noticing the others' stares.
"Sorry… I ate too much."
He rubbed his neck awkwardly.
His hypertension, diabetes, and obesity made him a liability in survival situations—something Takakai hadn't fully considered until now.
An aging laborer, body broken by years of hard work.
No stamina, no combat ability.
But… not useless.
"Mr. Sun, you worked as an electrician, right? Can you rewire the lights on the second floor? Ideally, centralize the switches in one room?"
Takakai pointed at the tangled wires strewn across the hallway ceiling.
Sun Dajun hesitated.
"It's… not that simple. But I'll try. Green and the girl with the braid found some tools. Might work."
He knew his worth in this group was questionable.
If he couldn't scout, couldn't analyze clues, the least he could do was make himself useful.
Green remained silent; his role clear: protect Sun Dajun.
Meanwhile, Maeda Miwa—locked in Room 205 overnight—had lost her mind, reduced to a shivering, shrieking wreck.
"Leave her there for now. She's safer inside. If we find a way out… we'll see."
Maki's voice was heavy with pity.
Rooms 203, 202, and 201 were next.
203: A hanged corpse, severed at the waist, its lower half on the floor.
202: A body on the bed, no visible wounds—just empty sleeping pill bottles on the nightstand.
Both corpses twitched but didn't leave their rooms, foiling Takakai's plan to lure them into Room 210 as test subjects.
No "landlord" = restricted movement?
Then came Room 201.
The moment Takakai stepped inside, a desiccated old man's corpse lunged—soundless, toe-walking, its purple-black fingers raking five gashes across his arm.
Maki yanked him back just in time.
The corpse didn't retreat.
It stood frozen in the doorway, forcing the group to barricade themselves in the living room for hours until the coast cleared.
"Different rooms, different personalities. This one's way too aggressive."
Takakai winced as Maki disinfected his wounds.
"Yeah. And these corpses… they were all former tenants. Seeing dead people move isn't a great experience."
Maki's hands were gentle but firm as she wrapped the bandages.
"Ow—can you be a little softer?"
Takakai hissed as the iodine stung.
"Tch. And here I thought you were some unshakable badass. 'Last man standing,' 'rewinding time'—big talk for someone who whines about antiseptic."
Maki's smirk was playfully smug.
A Quiet Moment
Sun Dajun worked on the lighting system, jury-rigging switches to control Rooms 202 and 203 from 204.
Green inventoried supplies under Kaguya's supervision, rationing food strictly.
Which left Takakai and Maki alone in Room 208.
The air between them felt… strangely charged.
The Question
"About that other timeline… the one where we all died. Can you tell me what happened?"
Maki's voice was soft, curious.
Takakai stiffened.
"You sure you want to know?"
"I'm curious. The idea that I fought alongside you, trusted you… and now I don't remember any of it? That's frustrating. What was I like, in your eyes?"
She sat beside him on the dusty couch—close, barely a hand's width apart—and smiled.
Takakai's chest tightened.
The dark room. Her fingers tracing words on his palm. The quiet understanding between them.
All gone now.
"I'd rather not talk about it."
He looked away.
Those memories are mine alone.
But Maki persisted.
"I want to hear. You… trusted me from the start, right? Even when everyone else doubted you, you looked to me first."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"After hearing about the time rewind, after experiencing it myself… I kept wondering: What was I like in that other timeline? Why did you believe in me so much?"
"And now, here I am, not remembering any of it. Does that… hurt you? To have shared moments erased, for me to be a stranger again?"
"If it does, I want to hear those stories. I'm good with emotions, you know. Think of me as your confessional. We're comrades, after all. I can't just ignore a comrade's pain."
Her hand settled over his—warm, gentle, just like before.
A ghost of a touch from a lost timeline.
But this time, he could see her smile.
"You really are… too good."
Takakai laughed softly, a strange ache in his chest.