The cold was already waiting for him when his eyes opened.
No gasp. No flinch. Just a slow, hollow intake of air.
Kazuki stared at the ceiling.
Same grain in the wood.
Same slope of light across the wall.
He didn't move right away.
Some part of him had been hoping—begging—that this time would be different.
That he'd wake in a hospital bed. The real one. Japan.
That the last loop had broken whatever curse had grabbed him.
But the tatami was still beneath him. The candle still burned. The drip still fell. And in the far distance, he could already hear the faint stirrings of soldiers rising for the day.
Loop three.
It was real.
He sat up slowly, hand pressed to his side.
No blood. No pain. No torn flesh where the blade had opened him.
His body was whole again.
And for a brief, flickering moment—he hated that.
He hated being back.
He clenched his teeth, dragged in another breath, and stood.
---
Tadakatsu entered a few minutes later. Predictable as the sunrise.
"You're up early, Hideyoshi-sama," he said, smiling as he carried the tray in.
Kazuki nodded but said nothing. He sat at the low table, staring at the candle.
Tadakatsu placed the tea carefully. The same exact angle as before.
Kazuki watched him.
He already knew what Tadakatsu would say next.
"You didn't eat last night. Mayu said—"
"I remember," Kazuki cut in. Quiet. Steady.
Tadakatsu paused. Blinked. "Ah… of course."
Kazuki looked at him then. Really looked.
This was the man who had died beside him. Twice. Once screaming, once trying to help him run.
Kazuki swallowed the thought. "What time does the morning rotation report come in?"
Tadakatsu raised an eyebrow. "At the second bell."
"I want it now."
"Hideyoshi-sama?"
"Now. And send for Mayu. Quietly."
---
He dressed fast.
No wasted movement. His body had done this before—twice.
His fingers moved before his mind caught up. Wrapping, tying, adjusting.
By the time the tray was cleared, he already had the map in his hand.
Down the hall, he heard the shuffle of sandals. Tadakatsu and Mayu's voices.
He stepped out to meet them before they could enter.
"We need to change our placements."
Mayu frowned. "Again?"
He didn't answer. Just walked ahead of them, down the corridor toward the war room.
Neither argued.
But they were watching him.
---
Inside, the map was still half-unrolled.
Kazuki placed the stones by memory.
Tadakatsu and Mayu flanked him in silence as he shifted the scout placements toward the high ridge. The archers moved off the inner walls. A second fallback line was drawn near the shrine steps.
He adjusted them all quickly. Precise. Minimal. Just enough to nudge.
Mayu's voice was cautious. "Why these changes?"
"Testing something."
She glanced at Tadakatsu. "Testing what?"
Kazuki's hand froze above the map.
He didn't have an answer that made sense.
He lowered his hand. "Just trust me."
Mayu stared at him for a beat too long. Then gave a slow nod.
---
They walked the outer walls at noon.
The sun sat just above the ridge, painting the valley in clean gold. Too clean.
Kazuki's boots scuffed stone. He glanced at the tower ahead. The scout hadn't come. The horn hadn't sounded. Not yet.
The silence felt wrong.
He scanned the treeline. No plume. No signal fire. No alarm.
The moment should've happened already.
Mayu leaned against the rampart, squinting into the hills. "Shouldn't we have heard from the southern watch by now?"
Kazuki said nothing.
He checked the shadow lines. Counted them. Aligned them with memory.
Last time—no, both times—the horn had blown ten minutes ago. The rhythm was off.
Tadakatsu was watching him now. Waiting for the call. Waiting for something to chase.
Kazuki kept his hands still.
The air felt too still. Like the world was holding its breath.
He closed his eyes. What did I change?
The scouts. The fallback line. Nothing major. Nothing that would cause a delay this long.
Unless…
No.
His heartbeat quickened.
Unless the enemy was watching him.
Unless the loop was watching.
He turned sharply from the wall, forcing calm into his voice.
"Have the east patrol double back. Quietly. Don't send runners—use signal mirrors only."
Tadakatsu nodded and moved.
Mayu stayed beside him.
She looked at him, something unreadable in her face.
"You thought it would've started by now," she said.
Kazuki didn't answer.
She didn't press.
They stood in the stillness, watching a moment that refused to arrive.
And for the first time, Kazuki didn't feel like he was out of time.
He felt like the loop was waiting for him to move.
---
The horn blew two hours later.
Not once. Three short blasts, clipped and erratic.
Not the call for fire. Not the breach signal.
Kazuki spun toward the sound, already running.
It came from the eastern ridge.
Not the south.
Not where it was supposed to be.
He shouted over his shoulder, "Mayu—mobilize the third unit! Eastern flank!"
She didn't ask questions this time. Just ran.
The walls came alive with shouts and motion. Metal rang. Boots thundered across stone. Kazuki's thoughts snapped into combat rhythm—half-memory, half reflex. But every step he took screamed something was wrong.
He reached the top of the stairs and scanned the treeline.
No fire.
Just shadows.
And then—
Figures moving. Fast. Too fast. A formation he hadn't seen before. Not last time. Not in either loop.
Tadakatsu appeared beside him, breathing hard. "They're coming in tight, no siege ladders—what the hell are they doing?"
Kazuki didn't answer.
He didn't know.
This wasn't a siege. It was a raid. A strike force.
They changed tactics.
Because I changed mine.
That thought hit harder than the horns.
---
The eastern post broke twenty minutes in.
Not because of fire, or brute force.
Because the guards were under-equipped. Because the fallback line was too far to reinforce in time.
Because Kazuki had moved them.
He watched it unfold from the high wall. A single scout falling near the gate. A burst of crossbow fire pinning two archers against a pillar. Then the eastern breach blew wide—alchemic acid, not flame.
Kazuki's stomach dropped.
Tadakatsu cursed beside him. "They weren't supposed to have acid reserves—where did that come from?"
Kazuki turned and sprinted down the stairs.
The loop wasn't just remembering.
It was reacting.
---
He found Mayu by the inner yard, sword drawn, barking orders to regroup the civilians.
Two corpses at her feet.
Neither had died last time.
Kazuki grabbed her arm. "We have to pull back again."
"There is no fallback line this time," she snapped. "You moved it to the shrine, remember?"
His voice caught.
Right. He had.
"Damn it," he hissed.
He looked at her.
And for a moment, he wanted to tell her everything.
That he knew how she died. That he'd spent the last two loops trying to change it.
That the more he shifted the pieces, the more the board rewrote itself.
But he didn't.
Because what came next would be worse.
---
By dusk, the fires had reached the west barracks.
Tadakatsu was wounded.
Mayu was still alive.
But half the gate detail wasn't.
Kazuki sat on the inner stairs, watching smoke creep into the sky.
Not fire. Not green. Not the same as before.
But still death.
Still loss.
And this time, he had no idea whose fault it was.
---
He didn't sleep.
He waited.
Sat awake in the command room, body numb, breath slow.
The candle in the corner was half-dripped.
Still burning.
He stared at it like it owed him answers.
The last time it burned to the base, he died.
The time before that, he bled out under trees.
Now? He didn't know.
He no longer knew what triggered it.
What changed it.
What obeyed it.
Or what didn't.
He whispered to no one.
"If this is a game…"
The flame flickered. Wax curled.
"…it's not playing fair."