I stood in front of Noa’s front door for a moment longer than necessary.
My hand hovered near the doorbell.
Then I knocked.
The sound echoed softly through the house.
I waited.
A few seconds later, footsteps approached from inside.
The door opened.
Noa’s mother stood there, still dressed in comfortable home clothes.
Her hair was slightly messy, as if she had only recently gotten out of bed.
The moment she recognized me, her expression softened.
“Oh,” she said warmly.
“You’re Noa’s friend, right?”
I nodded.
“Yes.
I’m Mizuki.”
“Of course,” she replied with a smile.
“Noa has mentioned you before.”
Something inside my chest loosened.
Just a little.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Please, come in,” she said, stepping aside.
I slipped off my shoes and followed her inside.
The house felt warm.
Comfortable.
Safe.
The faint scent of tea drifted through the air, mixed with something lightly fried from breakfast.
Morning sunlight filtered through the windows, filling the house with a quiet kind of peace.
The kind of peace I hadn’t trusted in a long time.
She led me toward the living room.
“You can sit here.”
I nodded and sat down carefully on the couch.
The cushions sank slightly beneath my weight.
Soft.
Ordinary.
Normal.
I rested my hands on my knees.
For a moment, I simply looked around.
Family photos decorated a nearby shelf.
A blanket was folded neatly over a chair.
A television sat quietly in the corner of the room.
Nothing felt out of place.
Nothing felt wrong.
“I’ll go wake Noa up,” her mother said with a small laugh.
“She likes sleeping in on Sundays.”
I could imagine that.
Far too easily.
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
Then she paused.
“Would you like something to eat while you wait?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The answer came automatically.
A few moments later, she returned with a small plate of snacks and a glass of juice.
Simple.
Neatly arranged.
The kind of thing a parent would prepare without thinking twice.
She placed them on the table in front of me.
“There you go.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled again.
“Please relax.
I’ll bring her down.”
Then she disappeared down the hallway toward Noa’s room.
Her footsteps gradually faded.
Silence returned.
The house grew quiet.
I sat alone on the couch.
The plate of snacks rested untouched on the table.
I stared at it without really seeing it.
This is good, I thought.
This is normal.
Exactly how it should be.
My fingers brushed lightly against my pocket.
The pen was still there.
Quiet.
Waiting.
Ready.
A reminder that normal could disappear in an instant.
I closed my hand around it briefly.
She’s safe.
The thought echoed through my mind.
She’s right upstairs.
I listened carefully.
Not for danger.
Not for signs of an attack.
Not for impossible sounds hiding in the walls.
Just for proof.
Proof that time was moving forward the way it was supposed to.
Proof that this morning was still ordinary.
From somewhere upstairs, a door opened.
A familiar voice called softly.
“Noa?”
The sound made my shoulders loosen.
I closed my eyes for a moment and let myself breathe.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Whatever happened next…
Whatever answers waited for us…
Whatever the android was planning…
At least this time, I was already here.
Footsteps echoed from upstairs.
Slow.
Uneven.
Followed by the unmistakable sound of someone trying—and failing—to stay awake.
A yawn drifted down the staircase.
I lifted my head.
Noa appeared at the top of the stairs.
One hand rested on the railing as she blinked sleepily into the living room.
Her hair was slightly messy, a few strands refusing to stay in place.
Her eyes were only half-open, and she looked like someone who had been pulled out of a dream she wasn’t ready to leave behind.
She blinked once.
Then again.
Her gaze drifted across the room.
And stopped on me.
“…Mizuki?”
Her voice was soft.
Confused.
Still trapped somewhere between sleeping and waking.
“What are you doing here?”
For a moment, I couldn’t answer.
Seeing her like this—
Safe.
Alive.
Completely unaware of what had happened four days in the future— made something tighten inside my chest.
I stood slowly.
“Good morning.”
Noa frowned slightly as her brain struggled to catch up.
“It’s…” She glanced around.
“Sunday, right?”
“Yes.”
She rubbed one eye and carefully stepped down another stair.
“Did something happen?”
Her voice grew a little clearer.
“You never come this early.”
Before I could answer, her mother’s voice floated in from the hallway.
“Your friend came to visit.”
A pause.
“Don’t keep her waiting.”
Noa glanced toward the hallway.
Then back at me.
“Oh.”
She looked genuinely surprised.
“Sorry.”
She continued down the stairs, one step at a time, still waking up.
Another yawn escaped her.
By the time she reached the bottom, she looked slightly more conscious—but only slightly.
She stopped a few steps away from me.
Then simply stared.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Her expression changed.
Not fear.
Not suspicion.
Concern.
“…You look serious.”
“Did I do something?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
“Nothing like that.”
She studied my face carefully.
The sleepiness hadn’t dulled her instincts.
If anything, it made her more honest.
“Then why are you here?”
I hesitated.
Because the real answer wasn’t something I could say casually.
Because an android attacked me.
Because it had your gun.
Because I’m terrified something happens to you again.
The truth would shatter the calm atmosphere of the room.
So I chose a safer answer.
“I wanted to see you.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly.
“And talk.”
“…This early?” she asked.
I nodded.
Noa stared at me for another moment.
Then she let out a small breath and smiled faintly.
“Okay.”
She pointed at me.
“That’s weird.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
“But you’re here, so…” she continued.
A sleepy grin appeared on her face.
“Come sit.”
She walked past me and dropped onto the couch.
Almost immediately, she curled up against one side like she might fall asleep again at any moment.
The sight was so normal it almost hurt.
A few moments later, her mother returned carrying a cup of tea.
She placed it gently on the table.
“There you go.”
Noa mumbled a sleepy thank you.
Her mother smiled.
Then she looked at both of us.
“I’ll give you two some time.”
With that, she left the room.
The living room grew quiet again.
A comfortable silence settled between us.
Noa leaned back into the couch.
For a moment, she simply stared at the ceiling.
Then she spoke.
“…So.”
Her eyes remained half-closed.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
A pause.
“Or am I supposed to guess?”
I looked at her.
At the messy hair.
The sleepy expression.
The complete trust in her voice.
Alive.
Safe.
Right here.
“…I’ll tell you.”
My voice came out softer than I intended.
“Just not all at once.”
Noa finally turned her head toward me.
A small smile appeared on her face.
Trusting.
Patient.
Still half asleep.
“Okay.”
She wrapped both hands around her tea.
“I can handle that.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
For now, she was here.
And for now— that was enough to keep going.
Noa sat beside me on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she held her cup with both hands.
Her hair was still slightly messy.
Her expression was soft.
Sleepy.
Comfortable.
The kind of presence that made a room feel lighter simply by being there.
For a moment, I found myself staring at her.
Not because I meant to.
Because she was here.
Alive.
No emergency.
No accident.
No hospital.
No funeral announcement.
Just Noa.
Exactly as she should be.
She noticed me watching.
“…Okay.”
A small laugh escaped her.
“Why are you looking at me like I’m about to glitch?”
I couldn’t help smiling faintly.
Then the smile faded.
“Because last time…”
My voice grew quieter.
“Things went wrong.”
Understanding immediately appeared in her eyes.
“So it reset?”
“Yes.”
She nodded once.
No panic.
No shock.
Just acceptance.
At this point, timeline resets had become part of her reality too.
“How far?”
“Four days.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
“Wow.”
She blinked.
“That’s…
not small.”
“No.”
“No, it isn’t.”
She took a sip from her cup.
The warmth seemed to wake her up a little more.
When she looked at me again, her eyes were sharper.
More focused.
“So.”
She leaned back slightly.
“What finally got you this time?”
I hesitated.
The memory returned instantly.
The footsteps.
The doorway.
The net.
“…An android.”
Noa froze.
Only for a second.
But she froze.
“…Wait.”
Her eyes widened.
“An actual android?”
“Yes.”
“Like…”
She stared at me.
“Metal?”
“Yes.”
“Not human?”
“Yes.”
“Walking around?”
“Yes.”
“Talking?”
“Yes.”
“Scary?”
I nodded.
Noa stared at the table.
Silence stretched between us.
Then—
“…Whoa.”
That was all she said.
Just one word.
I waited for fear.
For concern.
For panic.
Instead, something entirely different appeared.
Her eyes slowly lit up.
“…I’ve never seen one in this life.” The source of this chapter is novelping.com.
She leaned forward slightly.
“Only heard you talk about it before.”
She looked genuinely fascinated.
Like someone hearing confirmation that something impossible actually existed.
“So it’s real.”
Her voice dropped.
Not fearful.
Curious.
“Not just some abstract threat.”
“It restrained me.”
The excitement faded slightly.
“With an electric net.”
I lowered my gaze.
“And it took my gun.”
Noa’s expression changed immediately.
“Okay.”
She sat back.
“I don’t like that part.”
Neither did I.
I swallowed.
“It also had yours.”
The room fell silent.
Her breath hitched.
Just slightly.
“…So it met me too.”
The words came out slowly.
Carefully.
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“Or it will.”
Noa stared into her cup for a moment.
Thinking.
Processing.
Trying to fit the pieces together.
Then suddenly she straightened.
“Wait.”
She pointed directly at me.
“So you’re telling me that in one version of reality…”
A grin slowly appeared.
“A literal android broke into your house?”
“Yes.”
“And used actual sci-fi technology on you?”
“Yes.”
She leaned back against the couch dramatically.
“…That is terrifying.”
I nodded.
“It is.”
Then she smiled.
“…And kind of amazing.”
I blinked.
“Amazing?”
“I mean…”
She shrugged.
“I don’t love the part where it nearly killed you.”
“That’s a pretty important part.”
“Very important.”
She nodded seriously.
Then ruined the seriousness immediately.
“But an android?”
Her eyes sparkled.
“That confirms we’re way past normal problems.”
I stared at her.
Noa pointed toward me again.
“Do you understand how ridiculous that sounds?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Good.”
She nodded.
“Because that’s objectively cool.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“You are impossible.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled proudly.
“I work hard on that.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me.
A real one.
Small.
But real.
Noa smiled at the sound.
Then her expression softened.
She looked at me more seriously this time.
Not joking.
Not teasing.
Focused.
“So.”
She placed her cup down carefully.
“This is before it happens.”
“Yes.”
“Before the android appears.”
“Yes.”
“Before everything goes wrong.”
“Yes.”
Noa nodded once.
Then smiled.
“Good.”
My stomach tightened immediately.
That tone never meant anything simple.
“Because this time…”
She leaned forward slightly.
“I want to see it.”
My heart skipped.
“Noa.”
The warning came instantly.
She raised both hands.
“Not alone.”
I remained silent.
“Not recklessly either.”
She sighed.
“I’m not trying to get myself killed.”
“Good.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
Then her smile returned.
Softer this time.
“If something is hunting you…”
Her voice grew quieter.
“I don’t want to be the person who only hears about it afterward.”
The room became still.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she continued.
“And if I’m going to be involved anyway…”
A grin appeared.
“…I’d at least like to say I saw the cool robot.”
I stared at her.
Then laughed.
Actually laughed.
The absurdity of it was impossible to ignore.
Noa laughed too.
Warm.
Bright.
Alive.
The sound filled the room.
And for the first time since waking up four days earlier, the fear eased slightly.
Just slightly.
Sitting beside her on that quiet Sunday morning, I finally understood something.
Noa wasn’t fearless.
She was scared.
She worried.
She hesitated.
Just like anyone else.
But she never let fear decide what she would do.
She chose her own answer.
Again and again.
And somehow…
that made her braver than most people I had ever met.
And that made all the difference.
Hello everyone!
Your support motivates me to continue writing and improving this story.
Chapter 23 serves as a calmer chapter after the intense events of the previous chapters.
Mizuki now knows the future isn’t something she can simply wait for.
The android has already proven that it is aware of her, aware of Noa, and possibly aware of much more than either of them understands.
Because of that, this chapter marks an important change: Mizuki has decided to move first.
At the same time, Noa continues to surprise even Mizuki.
Faced with a dangerous unknown, her first reaction isn’t panic—it’s curiosity.
Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing remains to be seen.
Every bit of support helps the story grow.
I’d love to hear your thoughts and theories about the android, Noa’s gun, and what might happen next.
See you in the next chapter!