Bonus Chapter 48 : Replay Again

The sun dipped low over the small town, casting long shadows over the familiar streets. Ren and Yuki’s children ran ahead, laughter spilling like music across the quiet sidewalks. Their daughter, with her mother’s sharp eyes and Ren’s calm composure, was skipping stones near the riverbank. Their son, always full of curiosity, chased after a butterfly, almost tripping on the uneven stones.

Nearby, Haru and Mina’s twins darted around, shrieking with delight as they tried to catch the older kids. The air was filled with the scents of late summer—warm earth, faint flowers, and the salty tang of the nearby sea.

Ren watched from a distance, leaning against the fence, a soft smile on his face. Yuki stood beside him, camera in hand, capturing fleeting moments—the perfect light catching a child’s hair, a laugh frozen mid-air.

“They’ve grown so fast,” Yuki murmured, her eyes tracking their daughter as she tugged the twins into a game of tag.

Ren nodded. “It feels like yesterday we were worrying about us… now look at them. Their own little worlds, full of chaos and laughter.”

Yuki leaned her head on his shoulder. “And we’re still learning, too.”

---

As the evening deepened, the children began to settle, gathering in small clusters. Ren’s daughter climbed onto the low fence, pointing at the sky.

“Look! That star—it’s glowing funny!” she exclaimed.

Ren glanced upward, noting that one star seemed to shimmer differently than the others, pulsing almost like a heartbeat. He frowned slightly but dismissed it. Children often had vivid imaginations.

Meanwhile, Yuki’s son tugged at her sleeve, holding a small, odd trinket he’d found near the riverbank—a tiny pendant that seemed to hum softly in his hand.

“Mom… it’s… it’s glowing!” he said, eyes wide with both fear and wonder.

Yuki knelt beside him, examining it closely. It was delicate, silver, engraved with unfamiliar symbols. She felt a strange warmth emanating from it, like a pulse she could almost hear.

“It… it feels… alive,” she whispered.

Ren came over, his gaze immediately drawn to the pendant. His heart thumped uncomfortably. It was familiar—an echo of the strange time-shifts they had experienced long ago.

“They shouldn’t… not now,” Ren said, voice low, almost as if he were warning himself.

---

The kids, oblivious to the tension, continued to play, laughing and chasing each other. Haru and Mina observed from the bench, twins curled up against them, eyes wide and curious.

Mina tilted her head. “Do you feel that?” she asked Haru softly. “Like… something’s off?”

Haru frowned. “Yeah… it’s subtle, but it’s there. Just a little… wrong.”

Ren and Yuki exchanged a glance. Both of them recognized the same uneasy feeling—the faint hum of time bending, a resonance they had hoped never to encounter again.

Ren took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “We need to keep an eye on them. All of them.”

Yuki nodded, tension creeping into her posture. “The God of Time… whatever it is, it’s not done with us.”

---

Night fell quickly, and the group decided to head back toward their homes. Lanterns lined the streets, casting long, flickering shadows. The children chattered happily, unaware of the strange pulse in the air.

Ren carried his son on his shoulders, Yuki’s daughter skipping beside them. Haru held one twin’s hand, Mina the other. But even in the joy, the pendant remained in Yuki’s son’s pocket, vibrating softly, faintly glowing every few seconds.

At the crossroads near the town square, the kids stopped abruptly, staring at something invisible to the adults.

“What is it?” Ren asked, crouching to their level.

The children didn’t answer. Instead, they pointed upward. The sky shimmered strangely, the stars moving in patterns that shouldn’t have been possible. One star—glowing brightly, red like a thread—twisted and arced toward them.

Yuki felt her breath catch. “No… not again…”

Ren’s heart pounded. The pendant in her son’s pocket pulsed rapidly, almost like it recognized the movement in the sky. He reached for it, but before he could, a soft wind swirled around them, carrying whispers he couldn’t quite make out.

“It’s… a message?” Haru muttered, gripping Mina’s hand tightly.

Mina’s eyes were wide, staring at the sky. “I… I don’t know, but it feels… like something is calling them. Or warning us.”

---

Suddenly, a flash of light enveloped the children. Ren and Yuki’s hearts stopped. For a brief moment, the world blurred, the streets twisting and shimmering as though the fabric of reality was bending around the kids.

When the light dimmed, the children were gone.

Ren screamed, lunging forward. “No! Where are they?!”

Yuki grabbed his arm. “Stay calm! We’ll find them—I know we will!”

Haru and Mina joined, panic-stricken, but the adults quickly realized they couldn’t see their children anymore. The pendant, now glowing intensely, had fallen to the ground.

Ren picked it up, and as soon as he touched it, he felt something—a faint pull, memories not their own brushing against his mind, glimpses of futures both familiar and terrifying.

“They… they’ve been pulled into… time,” Ren whispered, voice shaking.

Yuki’s eyes filled with tears. “The God of Time… the shrine… it’s happening again. But why now? They weren’t supposed to—”

Ren shook his head, clutching her hand. “We don’t know. But we have to save them. We can’t let the past… or the future… repeat the mistakes we made.”

---

The wind picked up, carrying whispers like threads of an ancient song. Lanterns flickered violently. The stars above twisted unnaturally, forming patterns that mirrored the symbols on the pendant.

Haru and Mina exchanged a glance, understanding dawning. “This… isn’t just about them,” Mina said, voice trembling. “It’s about all of us. The timeline… everything is… unstable.”

Ren took a deep breath, holding the pendant tightly. “We’ve been given a chance before. And we’ll get one again. We’ll bring them back. All of them. No matter what it takes.”

Yuki nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks, but her grip on his hand was fierce. “Together.”

The pendant pulsed once more, sending a ripple of light through the town. The stars above seemed to lean closer, and for a heartbeat, it was silent—the kind of silence that screams before the storm.

And then…

A faint, hollow voice echoed from the pendant.

“Find them… before time forgets you too…”

Ren’s eyes widened. “It knows… it knows we’re here.”

Yuki tightened her grip. “Then let’s not waste a second.”

The four adults stared at the empty streets, their hearts pounding. Somewhere out there, their children were lost in the folds of time. And this time, it wasn’t just about them—it was about a future that could vanish entirely if they failed.

The night air shimmered, alive with possibility and danger, as the pendant’s glow stretched upward, illuminating the path into the unknown.

And in that quiet, terrifying moment, Ren realized that no matter how many times fate had tested them… the hardest trial was only just beginning.