Flash of the Forgotten

Saito was ninety percent sure life had turned into a bad isekai light novel.

Not the cool kind with swords, dragons, and harems. No, his fate apparently involved cursed jewelry and his overly cheerful junior, Amane, who looked like she was enjoying his suffering a little too much.

The ruby ring in his pocket had stopped glowing after he pulled her hand away, but the warmth lingered, like a half-finished query refusing to close.

He stared at his monitor, pretending to work. Rows of meaningless numbers blurred together. The boss was still stomping around the office, shouting about missing audit trails and “mysterious million-yen bonuses.”

Saito kept his head down. If he made eye contact, he was dead.

Meanwhile, Amane leaned against his desk, sipping bubble tea like she wasn’t supposed to be working.

“You’re really bad at hiding things, Senpai,” she whispered.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he muttered, typing gibberish into SQL just to look busy. His screen now read:

SELECT * FROM excuses WHERE reason = 'not my fault';

Amane giggled. “That won’t compile.”

“It’s not supposed to.”

She tilted her head, watching him. There was something unsettling about how calm she was. Most people would freak out if a glowing ring randomly appeared during office hours. But Amane? She acted like this was normal.

“Hey, Senpai,” she said softly, leaning closer, “don’t you feel like the office is… weird today?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Define weird. We work here. Weird is the default.”

“No, like…” Her eyes flickered—just for a second, a shimmer of light in her irises. “Listen.”

Saito paused. The usual hum of printers, keyboards, and gossip at the vending machine was gone. The room was dead silent, except for their voices and the boss’s angry footsteps.

“Uh…” He turned in his chair. Everyone was sitting at their desks, staring blankly at their monitors. Nobody moved. Nobody even blinked.

It was like they’d all been frozen mid-process.

Saito’s throat went dry. “Amane… what the SELECT is happening?”

Before she could answer, the world exploded in light.

A white flash swallowed the entire office. His vision burned, and he slammed his eyes shut, heart racing. For a split second, he thought he heard the ring humming in his pocket, in sync with his own pulse.

When the light faded, everything… shifted.

The office was still there, but off. The ceiling lights flickered with a faint red tint. The air felt heavier, like static before a storm. And most importantly—

The coworkers were gone.

Every desk sat empty. Silent monitors reflected his pale face back at him. Even the boss, mid-rant just moments ago, had vanished.

Only he and Amane remained.

Saito swallowed hard. “Did we just… TRUNCATE TABLE coworkers;?”

Amane didn’t laugh at that one. Her usual smile was gone, replaced by a look that was… sharp. Focused.

She turned toward him, eyes glowing faintly like the ring itself.

“Senpai,” she whispered, “welcome back.”

Saito’s stomach dropped. “Back? What do you mean back?!”

But Amane only smiled again, that playful, too-knowing grin.

And in the quiet, the ruby ring pulsed once more.