[Work in Progress]

Haruki Misora had an ability named Reset.

The ability to simulate a worldwide time rewind—more precisely, to restore the state of the world to a specified moment in the past.

However, Reset had many restrictions. For starters, she can only return to a point she intentionally "Saved" at. Upon Saving again, she can't return to the previous Save point. The effect of a Save wears off in 3 days. Among other limitations. Haruki herself is not too conscious of these effects but the Bureau is quite confident in their speculation that that's how it works. The Bureau is the public office that regulates the abilities in Sakurada. Their stated purpose is to eliminate ability-related troubles.

There's a reason why Haruki is unconscious of her own ability. The biggest problem with Reset. It's an extremely powerful ability that affects everything in the world unless resisted by another ability, including Resetting the user's time. Which means Haruki doesn't remember that she Reset. Haruki herself doesn't know what happened in the time she wiped out.

Her current Reset eliminated time from April 27th, 4:30PM to the 28th, 4:05PM. Practically 24 hours. The world turned to the 28th before, and then she recreated the 27th.

On April 27th, at 4:30PM, Haruki was in front of a small park next to Nanasaka Middle School. She was on her way home but stopped her walk. That was because she heard someone cry.

She looked and saw a girl crying alone in the park. An unknown girl, probably in the early years of elementary school.

Haruki was bad at understanding other people's feelings. She can't distinguish a smiling from a crying face just by looking. It's only upon seeing the tears roll out of her eyes that she can figure out that the person is crying.

The girl in front of the park's swings was undoubtedly crying. Tears spilled out of her eyes, drenching her cheeks.

Haruki uses Reset when she sees a person crying. There's no reason why she does it. Maybe there was one long ago, but she completely forgot it. It was decided and that was it. Haruki took tears as a reason to use her ability.

So at that moment, she whispered "Reset".

But that was when she remembered. She had no memory of Saving recently. A Save only lasts for 3 days. She can't Reset if she hadn't Saved in the past 3 days.

Her chance was missed.

Haruki whispered, "Save". Now she was set to Reset successfully the next time she saw someone cry.

ーThis was the moment her Reset recreated.

She was about to continue her way to leave the park, but she heard a voice before she could take the first step. A high-pitched and cracked voice, sounding almost like static noise.

"Hello."

The crying girl said that. Haruki looked at her again.

She didn't understand well what emotion was sadness. She couldn't remember herself ever crying. But somehow, she knew that tears were warm. And she could imagine what tears felt like rolling down one's cheeks.

Or maybe she just forgot what it's like to feel sad and cry. Either way, the 14-year-old Haruki didn't fully understand the act of crying.

The little girl looked into Haruki's eyes with her eyes sparkling from the light refracted by the tears.

"Do you know where my mom is?"

Her voice was shaking. Crying makes one's voice unstable, it seemed.

"I don't."

(I don't even know who your mother is.)

The girl maintained eye contact. She had more to ask. Haruki stood in place a while longer for that reason but the next question never came. All she did was cry.

Haruki suspected that the girl was searching for her mother. She got lost.

(I don't know the proper procedure to deal with lost children. Should I take her to the police? But I heard people being searched for are better off not moving too far from their starting point.)

Haruki searched for the most efficient solution.

Her idea was to leave the girl in the park and go alone to the police. That way, the mother wouldn't miss out on finding her daughter, and if she did, the police would safeguard the child.

She would presumably need to describe the girl in detail to the policeman. Knowing that, Haruki observed the girl for the first time. White polo shirt, checkered skirt. Deep-green pouch hanging from the shoulder. Cheek-length hair with a pin on her bangs.

"Where did you get separated from your mother?", Haruki asked.

The girl didn't answer. She only looked straight into Haruki's eyes.

(Maybe she doesn't know what "separated" means. I need to rephrase the question.)

"Tell me what you were doing before now."

"I went, to the hospital, for an exam.", the girl answered, sobbing. Her words were hard to distinguish.

(Did they get separated in this hospital? There is a large hospital behind this park. Perhaps I should contact there first.)

"Tell me your name."

(This will be the last question. Knowing her name and appearance should suffice.)

With a shaky voice, the girl answered Kurakawa Mari. Haruki didn't need to ask how to write it.

"I am going to tell people in the hospital and the police station about you. They will look for your mother. I believe you should stay as close as you can help to where you are now."

The girl didn't react. But Haruki believed she heard it. And she didn't use any difficult words. Haruki turned around to leave.

But she couldn't take the first step. Because the girl—Mari grabbed the hem of her uniform skirt.

"Please let go of me.", said Haruki. But Mari didn't react. All she did was cry.

(Should I force her hand off of my uniform? Her grip is very weak. One swift pull will solve the problem.)

But for some reason, she didn't find the will to do it. Mari's grip vaguely reminded Haruki of something. She tried to remember whatever trivial moment she was thinking about, but couldn't.

Still with her hem held, Haruki opened negotiations. If Mari didn't want to be alone, they had the option to leave a written message about it in the park, then wait in the hospital. The two of them waiting in the park wasn't efficient. There was a high likelihood that in the hospital they could at least learn her mother's phone number.

Haruki attempted to convince Mari of this, but all she did was continue to cry. Haruki was out of ideas.

It was the end of spring in the park. The cherry petals had all already hit the ground and the trees were developing fresh green leaves. That year's spring was on the colder side. The sunlight was warm but the wind was frigid.

Haruki stood still, waiting for the girl grabbing the hem of her skirt to say something.

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Mari's mother appeared 20 minutes later.

Mari's cry could no longer be heard. She had leaned on Haruki's body and fell asleep, still grabbing her hem.

One of Haruki's classmates stood behind Mari's mother. The classmate's name was Souma Sumire. Haruki didn't understand why Souma was with Mari's mother but didn't care. Regardless of the details, if the mother found Mari, the problem was solved.

Haruki handed Mari to the grateful mother and left the park. Souma Sumire ran next to her as if walking side by side was the most natural thing to do. Haruki didn't change her pace nor turned to look at Souma.

"I need to apologize to you.", said Souma. "I was at the entrance of the park when you found that girl. I was going to talk to you but gave up. Do you know why?"

(How was I supposed to know?) "No", answered Haruki.

Souma giggled.

"I got interested in watching what you'd do. Sorry. I went searching for the girl's mother alone without telling you anything."

Haruki didn't understand why that was deserving of an apology. But she didn't feel any need to get the answer. Haruki walked to her house at a fixed pace.

"You looked like a saint."

Souma's joyful pace matched Haruki's. Like an accompaniment instrument singing along to Haruki's footsteps with a fluid rhythm.

"Helping a crying girl, not pulling away when she grabbed your skirt, supporting her sleeping body. You looked like a kind-hearted saint when in reality, you don't care at all what happens to the girl, do you?"

Haruki nodded, without ever looking at Souma.

"Correct."

(Tomorrow, I won't remember what she was wearing or what her crying face looked like. Next month, I won't remember anything that happened today.)

Not even the fact the mother was found left Haruki particularly emotive. That was something normally worthy of celebration. Haruki knew that but still couldn't bring herself to feel joy. She believed herself to be apathetic to all things without exception.

"I've always been interested in you. You lack a virtuous mind. But you also couldn't be further from a hypocrite believing in their fake virtue, I think. Yet, looking at your behaviors out of context, you look like a saint. I'm very curious to know how do you build a personality like this.", Souma continued.

Haruki didn't have a shred of interest in this topic either.

April 28th, 5 PM. It was still too early for sunset, but the sun had already lowered a lot. Long shadows extended from Haruki's and Souma's feet. Perfectly parallel shadows, never intersecting.

"Seeing you always reminds me of the Two White Boxes.", Souma told with a calm voice. "Every day, you're in a white room, faced with a pair of perfectly identical white boxes. You can only open one, but you don't know which is the right box."

"I don't understand what are you trying to get at.", admitted Haruki.

"I'm pointing out how even the world is to you. If the two boxes had different colors, you could pick the color you liked best. If the boxes had different shapes, you could use that to justify your choice. But in your eyes, everything seems to have the same color and shape.", Souma answered with a smile.

(I still don't understand.)

It was only after all this that Haruki remembered. Souma Sumire was her classmate last year too. And that year she would always suddenly appear and speak bizarre metaphors. Like now.

"Hey, Haruki. Suppose I asked you a favor."

Haruki Misora kept walking, looking only forward.

Souma Sumire continued, looking at Haruki's profile.

"The two white boxes are doing the favor or refusing it. You don't care if I like you or hate you, right? And you're not capable of feeling curious or lazy, right? There's no factor that distinguishes your options, but you'll still open one of the boxes."

Haruki was listening to Souma's voice but making no active effort to understand the subject. To put it bluntly, she felt no need to understand.

"Let's put that to the test. I'll ask you a real favor: come to the rooftop of the southern school building tomorrow after class."

Haruki nodded without hesitation.

"Understood."

Souma laughed again.

"Why are you doing this favor for me?"

"I'm following the rules."

"What rules?"

"I have a set of rules."

Rules that weren't imposed by anyone. A code Haruki herself set to pass her days smoothly.

For example, whenever she sees someone crying, she will Reset. For example, she will never refuse anyone asking a favor unless that infringes another rule.

Haruki Misora lived obeying her own rules. She thought of herself as a computer running on a program. Every decision, no matter how minor, required a previously established rule.

"Rules, huh? Ok, you do you."

Souma produced something out of her bag. The something being—a small, blue envelope.

"I'll give you this as thanks for accepting the favor."

Haruki accepted what was offered to her.

The blue envelope was carefully glued. What was inside it could only be taken out if she cut or ripped it.

"Think of it as a good luck charm. Open only when you really need it. Then you have to say your wish out loud. That's what will get it granted."

She didn't believe this story. But also felt no need to refute it.

With a quick nod, Haruki put the envelope in her bag.

At the corner of the street, Souma finally stopped.

Haruki turned the corner and kept going, unbothered by that.

She heard her voice from behind.

"Don't forget to come to the rooftop tomorrow."

Haruki stopped, nodded, then resumed her walk.

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April 28th, Wednesday.

After class, Haruki was in the southern school building rooftop, as instructed by Souma. Before leaving the classroom, Souma told her she'd be late due to some class representative task.

Haruki stood in front of the fence and stared at the entrance. Waiting wasn't agonizing. She had nothing else to do. There wasn't much difference between sitting at her home desk or waiting for a classmate on the rooftop.

She heard a crowd behind her back. Multiple sports teams were practicing in the schoolyard. Around them, many more students talked loudly as they walked home.

The clear blue sky had few clouds. But its serene color left no impression on Haruki. She never thought the sky was beautiful. Nor flowers. Nor the wind. Nor the rehearsal of the wind orchestra she could hear from the school building next door. All of those things being removed from the world would have no effect on Haruki's thoughts. She was confident they wouldn't.

(But would that be sad?), Haruki thought. Haruki herself didn't know why she was questioning that.

Much like waiting for a classmate, not knowing wasn't agonizing. Every question will be resolved with enough time. Either by the answer appearing or by her forgetting the question. Both outcomes were solutions.

Five minutes passed, ten minutes passed, and no one appeared on the rooftop.

A slight breeze began to blow. This insignificant reason was all it took for Haruki to shift her gaze. She looked at the main street in front of the school grounds.

A familiar girl was there.

Alone on the rooftop, Haruki found her.

(Kurakawa Mari.)

She was a little surprised at herself with how effortlessly she managed to remember that. But she couldn't think of any reason why that was. Mari was crying again. Exactly like she was yesterday. Spilling tears without a hint of hesitation.

Due to the distance, Haruki couldn't hear her cry.

Mari staggered across the walk with a twisted face and spilling tears.

She remembered that she Saved yesterday when she first found Mari. She would be safely able to Reset that day.

Haruki let out a whisper like a sigh.

"Reset."

However, her view remained unaltered. She could still hear the crowd on the school ground and the Concert Band Club in the next building. And Mari still staggered across the walk, crying.

24 hours after the fact, Haruki finally learned that she had Reset.

That was the default reason why her ability wouldn't activate. Considering the rules of her ability as explained by the Bureau, there was no other answer.

(I probably repeated my actions after Resetting.)

She had already experienced this time around 24 hours ago. Saw Kurakawa Mari crying from this rooftop and used her Reset. A Save loses its effect after one Reset is spent on it. She needed to make a new Save.

She had experienced this situation many times before. She had no memory of ever trying to Reset and actually succeeding. Whenever Haruki activated Reset, its effect took away her memories. Then she repeated her actions and the second Reset failed. All Haruki Misora accumulated was a series of memories of her trying to Reset and not being able to.

Sometimes a question crossed her mind.

(Do I truly have the ability named Reset?)

She assumed she did because she couldn't think of any reason why the Bureau would lie to her. However, the Bureau evaluated her ability as entirely pointless in isolation. She agreed. Simply saying the word "Reset" can't change the world. It doesn't erase a girl's tears.

Mari was still crying.

(Should I go to her? No rule stipulates that.)

Eventually, Mari's mother appeared on the other side of the street. They were about to be reunited. And when they did, Mari's tears would stop.

No need for a Reset or for the hem of her skirt. Her sadness gets resolved without Haruki's intervention.

Nothing mattered.