The heavy wooden door of Classroom 2-A glided open, and Yuki stepped into the morning chatter.
The room was a lively hum of students gossiping about upcoming exams and weekend plans.
“Morning, Sato-kun,” a few classmates called out as he passed.
“Morning,” Yuki replied, offering a polite nod as he navigated the narrow aisles.
He made his way to the back of the room and sat down at his desk near the window, sliding his school bag onto the side hook.
Propping his chin in his hand, his gaze drifted out toward the courtyard.
His mind began to wander back to his walk to school, specifically to the three underclassmen who had caught up to him on the hill.
When he had first seen Miyamizu Mitsuha walking onto the campus grounds with Katsuhiko and Sayaka a few months ago, it felt as though the memories of the movie Your Name had come crashing violently into his brain.
He still occasionally monologued to himself about his own sheer obliviousness.
How had he lived in Gifu Prefecture for years, regularly hearing about the deeply traditional, lakeside town of Itomori just over the mountain, without ever making the connection?
Maybe having been out of the anime culture of that world for seventeen years really messes with your memory, Yuki thought, staring blankly at the courtyard trees.
It’s not just the people, either.
Even the novels I’m writing take a massive mental effort to piece back together.
I’ve nearly forgotten most of the culture I consumed in that past life.
He frequently found himself spending late nights staring at his laptop, aggressively mining his own subconscious just to remember the proper progression of worldlines for Steins;Gate.
The human brain simply wasn’t built to retain a perfect record of fictional media across two entirely different lifetimes.
It was an exhausting double life, especially since his identity as a hit light novel author had to remain an absolute secret to everyone at school.
If the student body knows, he can say goodbye to his quiet writing hours here.
At least, Yuki reasoned, letting out a quiet breath, I distinctly remember that the start of her series happens when she is a second-year student.
Since she’s only a first-year right now, the timeline is safe.
I don’t have to worry about a meteor suddenly falling from the sky anytime soon.
A quiet, hesitant voice broke his train of thought.
Yuki blinked and looked to his side.
Standing by the edge of his desk was Kawai Ritsu, a fellow second-year classmate.
She had short, neatly cut dark hair, wore her Kamiyama uniform with modest precision, and was clutching a book tightly against her chest like a protective shield.
Yuki glanced down at the book’s spine and froze.
The cover art was undeniably familiar.
It was the latest volume of Steins;Gate, complete with his publisher’s official logo stamping the corner.
“Morning, Kawai-san,” Yuki said, carefully keeping his voice level as his heart gave a slight thud.
He gestured subtly to the sci-fi paperback.
“That’s an unexpected choice for you. Why are you reading a modern light novel instead of your usual old literature books?”
Ritsu blinked, her cheeks dusting with a sudden, faint pink as she lowered the book slightly, her fingers nervously tracing the glossy cover.
“Oh… um… one of the upperclassmen in the library wouldn’t stop talking about it. She said the temporal mechanics and the cause-and-effect structure were completely mindblowing. I usually only read classic prose, but…” She looked down at the volume, her eyes shining with quiet intensity.
“The writing style is surprisingly heavy. The author constructs the theory so meticulously that it almost feels like he actually lived through those fractured timelines. It’s… hard to put down.”
Yuki swallowed hard, offering a completely neutral smile while screaming inside his own head.
“Is that so? It sounds like quite the puzzle.”
“Yes,” Ritsu nodded softly, completely unaware that the mastermind behind the prose was sitting right in front of her.
“I just… noticed you looked completely exhausted today. You were staring out the window like you were trapped in a different worldline yourself. Make sure you don’t collapse during homeroom.”
“I’ll try my best,” Yuki chuckled quietly, adjusting his notebook.
“Thanks for the concern, Kawai-san.”
Ritsu gave a small, hurried nod, clutching the sci-fi novel back to her chest as she quickly retreated to her own desk, burying her face straight into the pages the moment she sat down.
***
The class lectures dragged on in a blur of mathematical formulas and historical dates, but the moment the final chime of the bell signaled the end of the regular school hours, a wave of relief washed over the classroom.
Students immediately began sliding chairs back, packing up their bags, and planning their afternoons.
Yuki stretched his arms over his head, letting out a quiet sigh to release the tension in his shoulders.
He packed his notebook away and glanced across the aisle.
Ritsu was already standing up, carefully sliding her copy of Steins;Gate into her bag with an almost reverent gentleness.
“Are you heading straight to the clubroom, Kawai-san?” Yuki asked, slinging his uniform bag over one shoulder as he walked over to her desk.
Ritsu startled slightly, her shoulders tensing before she realized it was just him.
“Ah… Sato-kun. Yes, I am. I really want to finish reading this volume in a quiet place.” She adjusted the strap of her bag, a slightly exhausted shadow crossing her face.
“The dorm I’m staying at… It’s not really a place where I can read in peace sometimes. The other residents can be… incredibly loud and unpredictable.”
“I completely understand,” Yuki said, gesturing toward the classroom door.
“In that case, do you want to head over together? I’m bound for the Classics Club room myself.”
Ritsu blinked, her large eyes widening slightly in surprise before a faint, polite smile graced her lips.
“Um… yes. I’d like that. Thank you.”
The two of them stepped out into the bustling hallway, navigating past the various groups of students heading home or rushing to sports practices.
As they made the familiar trek toward the quiet, older wing of the school where the clubrooms were located, the heavy noise of the main building began to fade away, replaced by the soft thud of their uniform shoes against the wooden floorboards.
“So,” Yuki started casually, breaking the comfortable silence between them, “how far along are you in the book? Did the protagonist manage to find a way out of the alpha worldline yet?”
Ritsu paused in her tracks, her large eyes widening in surprise as she turned her head to look at him.
“Eh? Sato-kun… how do you know about the alpha worldline? I didn’t think you read these kinds of stories.”
Yuki’s heart skipped a beat, realizing he had spoken a bit too familiarly about his own plot progression.
He quickly masked his slip with a casual, easygoing smile.
“Ah, well, I’m actually a reader of the work myself. It’s a pretty big hit online, so I picked up the first few volumes out of curiosity. The temporal mechanics are definitely hard to ignore once you start.”
“You read it too?” Ritsu’s face instantly lit up with that quiet, intense passion she reserved exclusively for literature, her previous hesitance vanishing.
“I’m… I’m so glad! He’s currently trying to undo the text messages he sent, but the emotional cost of reversing those choices is so heavy. What fascinates me the most is how the author handles the concept of memory. The protagonist is the only one who retains the memories of the previous worldlines, which makes him entirely isolated.”
“Isolated?” Yuki repeated, tilting his head slightly, genuinely curious to hear her objective critique of his own midnight scribbles.
“Yes,” Ritsu nodded softly, her eyes staring ahead as if visualizing the text.
“Everyone else forgets, living completely normal lives, while he carries the crushing weight of absolute truth entirely alone. It must be a terrifying existence, to look at the people you care about and realize they have absolutely no idea what you’ve sacrificed just to keep them safe in a peaceful world.”
Yuki felt a sudden, sharp pang in his chest.
Her words hit entirely too close to home.
He looked down at his shoes as they walked, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.
“That’s… a really profound way to look at it, Kawai-san. I suppose that kind of secrecy is its own form of a burden.”
“It really is,” Ritsu murmured, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink as she realized how passionately she had been rambling to a boy.
She quickly pulled her uniform collar up slightly.
“I… I apologize. I got carried away. You must think I’m strange, discussing a novel so seriously.”
“Not at all,” Yuki reassured her warmly, reaching out to slide open the heavy wooden door of the Classics Club room as they finally arrived.
“I think the author would be incredibly grateful to know someone is reading his work with that much empathy.”
Yuki slid into his usual spot at the back corner of the long table, unzipping his bag and opening his laptop to continue his work on the manuscript.
Across from him, Ritsu quietly pulled out her chair, carefully settling into her own designated reading spot.
She opened Steins;Gate to her bookmarked page, instantly submerging herself back into the text, while Yuki’s fingers began to tap a steady rhythm against his keyboard.
The peaceful silence lasted for nearly twenty minutes before it was abruptly shattered by the sharp click of the sliding door.
Yuki looked up from his screen just as the door glided open.
Stepping into the room with an effortless, confident stride was a girl wearing the standard third-year school uniform.
She had short, stylishly unkempt hair, sharp eyes that constantly gleamed with amusement, and an energetic aura that completely disrupted the quiet room.
It was Tomoe Oreki, a third-year student about to graduate, and a legendary fellow member of the Classics Club.
“Good afternoon, Tomoe-senpai,” Yuki said, resting his hands on his desk as he greeted her politely.
Across the table, Ritsu flinched slightly at the sudden intrusion, instinctively pulling her book a little closer to her chest to mask her presence.
“Ah, Yuki-kun! Hard at work as always, I see,” Tomoe smiled dynamically, closing the door behind her.
She didn’t stay by the entrance; instead, she marched straight across the room, bypassing the empty chairs completely.
She moved right up to Yuki’s side, leaning over his shoulder so closely that her uniform brushed against his arm, her eyes scanning his bright laptop screen.
“Senpai, please,” Yuki sighed softly, shifting slightly to the side to regain some breathing room.
“There are plenty of empty tables in here. You don’t need to completely eliminate my personal space.”
“Oh? What’s wrong with being close to your favorite senior?” Tomoe teased, leaning in even further until her face was just inches from his.
A playful grin spread across her lips as she glanced down at Ritsu, who was trying very hard to pretend she was invisible.
“Are you getting nervous, Yuki-kun? Besides, a writer needs inspiration, right? Maybe my proximity will help you overcome your writer’s block.”
Yuki managed to keep his composure, casually tilting his laptop screen downward to hide his draft.
“I don’t have writer’s block, Senpai. More importantly, shouldn’t you be focusing on your upcoming graduation? Most third-years are buried under entrance exam preparation or packing up their lockers. Is it really okay for you to be lounging around the clubroom?”
Tomoe let out a loud, carefree laugh, finally straightening up and sitting on the edge of his table, swinging her legs casually.
“Exam prep? For me? Please, Yuki-kun, you hurt my feelings. I’ve already secured my future plans. Besides, the world outside this school is massive and full of absurdly boring routines. I’d much rather spend my remaining days teasing my favorite underclassman in our cozy little clubroom.”
She leaned forward again, resting her chin in her palms as her sharp eyes scanned his face.
“After all, once I graduate, who’s going to keep you on your toes? You always look like you’re carrying the weight of the universe on your shoulders.”