Loop;Simulation

<11/02/2025>

What if Life is a Simulation.

This is the title of the book I carry with me everywhere. It’s been a bestseller, and people flock to whatever’s popular, entranced by the allure of the trending. Perhaps it’s the way our minds work, drawn to the promise of others’ praise we feel compelled to try what everyone else adores. And so, even when the plot disappoints, something in us still latches on, perhaps brainwashed into admiration. I don't know why, but I too became ensnared by this book, just like everyone else.

“But, Shiou-Kun, isn’t it kind of strange to keep reading that book over and over?” The girl seated across from me asked, her gaze fixed on the cover with faint curiosity.

“You’re naive, Kanami. People consume the same food every day, drink the same water without questioning the taste. This book is like that for me, an essential, routine. It brings a peculiar satisfaction to my otherwise repetitive days.”

“Hmm~ if you say so... Even with that cool explanation, I still don’t get it.”

I shut the book with a soft thud, glancing out the window as I exhaled. This is the literature club room, and right now, we’re its only inhabitants. The late afternoon sun drapes over her figure, lending her an ethereal glow, as if she’d just stepped out of a novel. The soft breeze brushes against my skin, snapping me back to reality.

“By the way, Kanami, it looks like this club is going to be disbanded soon.”

“That’s because you couldn’t find anyone else to join,” she replied, shooting me a playful look. “Don’t give me that face it’s hardly my fault.”

“I know, I know. But... just sitting here with you, sharing this quiet time… I’ll miss it.”

“Shiou-kun, why are you talking like that? I told you, didn’t I? I’m not leaving your side not until your death.”

“Yeah, because without you, I’d have no one to talk to. I’m grateful for that, Kanami.”

I bit my lip, feeling an ache in my chest as she smiled, a smile that flickered, then faded, like the last wisp of a dream. Because the truth is, I am the only member of this club. Kanami is nothing more than a figment of my imagination, words crafted in my mind, a phantom woven from loneliness. She is an illusion, a projection of my mind, someone I created to shatter the silence that haunts me. This isn't companionship; it’s a conversation with my own reflection.

With a heavy sigh, I packed up my things. Evening shadows stretched across the room, reminding me it was time to go. I have no friends, no one to confide in, and so I devised Kanami a companion built to fill the emptiness. Each day, I come to school, I go home, like a machine following an inescapable script. Kanami isn’t real, she’s a figment, a friend who would never betray me because she only exists in my mind.

I walked down the narrow road toward home, noting how the dusk felt darker than usual. The streetlights lining this path seemed dim, casting only weak, wavering pools of light.

“I guess I stayed in the clubroom a little too long…”

As I trudged along, a stray cat caught my eye, its coat glinting in the faint light. I stopped, petting it gently, and offered the last of my onigiri from lunch. It didn’t cross my mind that rice might upset its stomach, but it seemed grateful, nibbling away as I gave it a soft farewell wave before continuing on my way.

The road twisted ahead, its turns barely visible in the gathering shadows. Even though it was just past six, the place was deserted, unnervingly empty. But I was used to being the last to leave school, a quiet habit I’d come to expect. Tonight, however, something felt different which was out of the ordinary. Just ahead, a girl from my class stood by a lamppost, watching as if she’d been waiting. I can't even recall her name.

I tried to ignore her, keeping my gaze forward, intent on passing without engagement. We’d never spoken in class, it wasn’t my business to question why she’d linger so late. Besides, everyone knew I get out of school last, so it’s not like she’d be interested in me to wait for me on my way to home anyway. I am just an extra.

“Kisahara Shiou… just as I thought.”

She murmured my name, and before I could react, she stepped forward, reaching out to touch my shoulder in what felt like an embrace. My mind reeled, it was impossible, something so sudden, so intimate in my usually uneventful life. But it was real. Her arms were around me for precisely 1.34 seconds, an instant that would brand itself into my memory. And then, just as quickly, she shoved me to the side of the road.

What…?

Before I could comprehend, a truck tore down the road, barreling into her. A spray of blood splattered across my face. Her fingers twitched, a final, desperate grasp at life. The driver, wild with panic, bolted into the night, leaving only horror in his wake.

“It… didn’t work… but… I’m glad… you’re… safe…”

Her fading words drifted toward me, weak but deliberate. She knew. Somehow, she had known that I’d been marked for death, that I would have been hit if she hadn’t intervened.

A corpse lay beside me, yet the warmth of her embrace still clung to my skin, a touch both haunting and unreal, I didn’t understand why she had sacrificed herself for a stranger. But the truth sat cold and undeniable- she had saved me at the cost of her life.

My body locked up, paralyzed in shock. The horror of it twisted in my stomach, bile rising as the image of her lifeless form burned into my mind.

Once I managed to calm down enough to move, I stumbled to the nearest police station, the taste of terror still fresh on my tongue. They interrogated me, cautious and clinical, and a psychiatrist even assessed my condition, studying my reactions to gauge my trauma. By then, the site of the accident had been cordoned off, hidden from prying eyes. My parents came to take me home, and I was informed I’d be undergoing further evaluation at a neurology clinic the next day to assess any lingering effects from witnessing such a brutal event.

That night, I fell onto my bed, words frozen in my throat. As I sank into the sheets, exhaustion and numbness swallowed me whole, and I slipped into a dark, dreamless sleep.

<11/02/2025>

“I think I stayed at the club a little too long…”

On my way home, I encountered a stray cat, crouched by the roadside. I knelt, petting it before giving it the onigiri from my bento. The thought crossed my mind, surely rice wouldn’t harm its stomach. Shrugging off the odd feeling, I continued down the narrow road.

“That’s strange… why does it feel like bought onigiri just like yesterday for my bento?”

A sense of déjà vu prickled my skin. Like yesterday?

As I walked, shadows thickened around me, and in the dim light, a figure materialized up ahead, standing unnervingly still. The sight sparked a memory—a flash of horror, a moment of dread.

“Neuro-brain hospital… wait, wasn’t I supposed to go for counseling today?”

Counseling? For what? I shook my head, an uneasy chill tightening around me. Why would I need a hospital visit? I felt like I was forgetting something crucial, something sinister. The shadowed figure seemed to be waiting, silently watching.

“Well, it’s none of my concern. I’ll just walk past and—”

A voice interrupted my thoughts. Kanami, my imagined friend, my fabricated companion appeared beside me, her expression tense.

“Shiou-kun, I know it feels strange, but please… stand close to the wall.”

“The wall? Why? I… I feel like something’s wrong here.”

“Don’t ask questions. Just listen to me, Shiou-kun.”

Swallowing my apprehension, I pressed my back to the cold wall, feeling absurd and exposed, like some strange version of Spiderman clinging to safety. My gaze shifted to the shadow up ahead, and I watched, heart pounding, as the figure approached.

“Do you… remember anything?” The girl who had died yesterday...The same girl who’d saved me...stood before me, unscathed, as if the fatal accident had never occurred.

She had saved me, hadn’t she? Her blood had sprayed my face. The truck, it… it should be coming any moment. I was safe against the wall, but why was she here again, standing in the same spot?

“Did you manage to—”

Before she could finish, the truck appeared, barreling out of the shadows with relentless speed, striking her down in a brutal instant. Blood sprayed across the road, and this time, she hadn’t even tried to save me.

“A-Aagh! W-what is happening? W-why…?”

My body froze, paralyzed with terror. The sight of her broken form twisted something deep within me, tearing a scream from my throat that echoed with the driver’s panicked cry. Moments later, he fled into the night, abandoning the scene in horror.

When I regained enough composure, I sprinted to the police station, mind reeling, stomach churning. The officers subjected me to brief questioning, then brought in a psychiatrist to assess my shaken state. They quickly sealed off the accident site, forbidding public access. My parents arrived soon after, and they informed me I’d have another session at the neuro-clinic tomorrow to address the trauma of witnessing yet another horrific death.

That night, I collapsed into bed, words lost, numbness consuming me. As I drifted off, darkness claimed me, pulling me into a hollow, dreamless abyss.

<11/02/2025>

“I think I stayed at the club a little too long…”

On my way home, the same stray cat appeared. Once again, I knelt, petting it before giving it the leftover onigiri from my bento. The thought flickered again: surely, this wouldn’t upset its stomach. Then, I froze. How many times have I done this?

“That’s strange… why does it feel like I’m eating onigiri every day now?”

A hollow, unsettling déjà vu coiled through me. Every day?

As I continued down the dim, narrow road, a figure emerged from the shadows ahead, standing exactly as it had before. My heart stammered as I recognized the scene. An involuntary, fear-stricken grin twisted my face, a smirk born of dread.

“I’m hilariously… stuck in a stupid loop.”