Chapter 05

Four days had passed since Tadashi began his new strategy. His notebook was now filled with detailed observations, patterns, and potential allies. Each interaction was calculated, each response measured. His mask of unremarkable politeness had become almost second nature.

Yuki, the class representative, had proven to be exactly what he’d assessed—a safe contact who provided useful information without demanding deeper connection. Through her, he learned about school events to avoid and which teachers to be wary of.

On the morning of his fourth day, Tadashi reviewed his notes while eating breakfast. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but he preferred to arrive at school early to avoid the crowded routes.

Day 4:

- Morning route clear

- School festival preparations starting (avoid gym area)

- Yuki mentioned power outage scheduled for west wing

- No suspicious approaches yesterday

- Food supplies stable

Everything was proceeding according to plan. He had survived longer than ever before, and his careful observation of masks was paying off. Yet something felt off this morning—a heaviness in the air he couldn’t explain.

As he walked to school, the sky darkened unexpectedly. The weather forecast hadn’t mentioned rain. A few drops fell, then more, until the sky opened up in a sudden downpour. Tadashi quickened his pace, but the rain was becoming dangerous. Lightning flashed overhead, followed by deafening thunder. He spotted a covered bus stop and made a dash for it.

That’s when he heard it—the sound of straining metal. He looked up just in time to see a construction crane, destabilized by the sudden storm, beginning to topple. Its massive arm swung toward him like the hand of fate itself.

His last thought wasn’t of failure or fear, but of a strange sort of acceptance. All his careful planning, all his observations of masks and motives—none of it could have prepared him for this.

The darkness came swiftly this time.

When Tadashi opened his eyes, he expected to see Simon drawing another stroke on the board. Instead, he found the angel sitting cross-legged on the floor, his expression troubled.

“Four days,” Simon said softly.

“You’re getting better, Tadashi. That death… it wasn’t your fault.”

“Does it matter?” Tadashi asked, his voice hollow. “I still failed.”

“Perhaps,” Simon stood, pacing the ethereal space, “we’ve been approaching this wrong. The gods’ challenge… it’s more complex than we thought.”

“We?”

Simon stopped pacing and turned to face Tadashi.

“I’ve been watching your progress, your growth. The way you’ve learned to read the masks of society… it’s impressive. But some forces are beyond any one person’s control.”

He raised his chalk, but instead of drawing the usual portal, he drew two distinct symbols in the air. They glowed with golden light, then burst into brilliant flashes. When the light faded, two figures stood before them. The first was a young man with unruly yellow hair and a mischievous grin, wearing a school uniform that seemed to defy the formal atmosphere of the space. The second was a petite girl with fierce eyes and long dark hair, her arms crossed impatiently.

“Meet Kei and Rin,” Simon said.

“They’re… let’s call them junior angels in training. From now on, they’ll be your companions in the living world.”

“Yo!” Kei gave a lazy salute.

“Looking forward to helping you dodge death, buddy!”

“Don’t be so casual about it,” Rin snapped, then turned to Tadashi with intense eyes.

“We’ve been watching your attempts. You’re not completely hopeless.”

Tadashi looked between the two new arrivals and Simon in confusion.

“Is this… allowed?”

Simon’s lips curved in a slight smile.

“Perhaps…let’s just say I’m interpreting the rules creatively. The challenge is to survive, right? It never specified you had to do it alone.”

“C’mon Tada, don’t look so stiff! It’s just life and death—we’ve been through worse… oh wait, you haven’t yet!”

Rin’s hand shot out, smacking the back of Kei’s head. “Show some sensitivity!”

“Whoa, easy there, Ice Queen. One glare from you, and I swear the temperature dropped ten degrees.” Kei moves away.

“Why you—!” Rin’s aura suddenly turned dark giving Kei a death stare as the poor boy shivers from her wrath.

As the two bickered, Simon approached Tadashi.

“They’ll retain their memories between your attempts, just like you do. They can’t directly intervene in life-or-death moments, but they can help you navigate, gather information, and maybe… just maybe… learn to do more than just survive.”

Tadashi watched Rin chasing Kei around the space, promising divine retribution for another thoughtless comment. Despite everything, he felt something he hadn’t experienced in a long time—hope.

“Ready for your next attempt?” Simon asked, chalk poised to draw the portal.

Tadashi nodded, and for the first time since his challenge began, he didn’t feel alone as he faced the darkness ahead.

“Just try not to get us killed on the first day,” Rin grumbled as the portal began to form.

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Kei laughed. “This is going to be fun!”

As they fell through the portal together, Tadashi realized that perhaps there was more to this challenge than just wearing the right masks. Perhaps it was also about learning when to let others see behind them.

The familiar ceiling greeted Tadashi once again, but this time, he wasn’t alone. Kei lounged against the wall, examining his nails with exaggerated boredom, while Rin stood by the window, arms crossed, eyes scanning the street below like a sentry.

“Your apartment’s kind of depressing,” Kei remarked, stretching lazily.

“We should get some plants or something. Maybe a cactus. Something to fill space, you know whatta mean.”

“We’re here to keep him alive, not redecorate,” Rin said flatly, not even turning from the window.

“Tadashi, your usual route to school has three blind corners and two narrow alleys. Too risky. Take the side street instead.”

Tadashi sat up, still processing the fact that he now had two—what? Guardian angels? Partners? Babysitters?

“You’ve been watching my previous attempts?”

“Every single one,” Rin confirmed.

“Your mask strategy isn’t bad, but it’s incomplete. You’re so focused on being forgettable that you miss opportunities for actual survival.”

Kei grinned. “Translation: You’re bad at making friends, and it’s getting you killed.”

“I wasn’t trying to make friends,” Tadashi muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Last time I trusted someone, I got sta—”

“Yeah, yeah, you got betrayed, bled out dramatically, the cherry blossoms were very aesthetic,” Kei waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean trust is useless. It just means you’re trusting the wrong way.”

Rin turned to face him; her stare sharp as a knife. “Trust isn’t all-or-nothing. You don’t need people you trust completely. You need people you trust for specific things.”

“Like what?”

“Like Yuki, the class rep. She’s reliable for information about school events. That’s a form of trust,” Rin explained.

“She won’t save your life, but she can tell you which parts of the school to avoid. Use that.”

Kei tapped his chin, nodding. “Yep! Different people, different uses. Think of it like a survival toolkit. And right now, your toolkit is just a rock and some bad luck.”

Tadashi sighed. “Fine. But how do you two fit into this? How do you appear to others? Can they see you?”

Kei grinned, his form shimmering slightly. “We can choose who sees us. To everyone else, we’re just normal students. I’m the ridiculously charming transfer student who sits two rows behind you.”

“And I’m the student council secretary,” Rin added. “A position that gives me access to schedules, staff intel, and security protocols.”

Tadashi raised an eyebrow. “So you just hacked the system?”

Kei chuckled. “‘Hacked’ is such a strong word. I prefer ‘creatively inserted ourselves into the narrative.’”

Rin shot him a side glance. “Creatively he said.”

“Details,” Kei said, waving her off. “Anyway, the point is, you don’t have to do this alone anymore. We’re here to make sure you don’t die before day seven. Again.”

As they walked to school, Rin led the way, making slight adjustments to their route to avoid potential dangers. Tadashi watched how differently Kei and Rin moved through the world.

Kei was effortlessly social, cracking jokes, chatting with random students. He wasn’t invisible like Tadashi tried to be—he was just so natural that people didn’t question his presence.

Rin, on the other hand, moved with precise efficiency. She didn’t avoid attention, she controlled it. Her role in the student council meant people respected her, followed her lead without question.

At the school gates, the guards barely looked at their IDs. Kei had somehow gotten them talking about last night’s baseball game, while Rin efficiently handed in a stack of event permits she had “forgotten” to submit earlier.

“See?” Kei whispered to Tadashi as they walked past.

“Sometimes the best mask isn’t hiding—it’s making sure no one looks too hard in the first place.”

“You’re not blending in,” Rin corrected.

“You’re directing attention where you want it.”

In class, Tadashi found himself seated between his two new allies. For the first time, he didn’t feel completely alone. Not that he trusted them completely, but at least now he understood how to rely on them.

As the teacher began the lesson, Tadashi opened his notebook to a fresh page:

Day 1 (Attempt 4):

He glanced at Kei, who was somehow managing to look both attentive and asleep at the same time, then at Rin, who was taking notes with military precision while simultaneously monitoring everyone in the room.

Maybe surviving wasn’t just about wearing the right mask. Maybe it was about knowing when—and how—to change them. He smirked slightly—just a little. Not a mask this time. A real smile. For once, he had a fighting chance.