Location: The Old Yomiyama Observatory, Mountains Outside Tokyo

  The night wind bit at his skin. The sky was filled with stars, yet none gleamed with clarity. They hung... as if waiting for something that had yet to arrive.

  Atop a small mountain stood an old structure — a war-era observatory, now abandoned, consumed by grass and moss. Its metal dome was rusty, the telescope coated in dust, and its walls adorned with carvings from unknown hands. Most of them... were numbers.

  As Fitran slowly stepped inside, his heart raced. He felt the weight of time accumulated in that dark room, as if each lost tick of the clock transported him to a past filled with bitter memories.

  He lit a small torch in his hand, the dim light dancing and casting long shadows. In that moment, he sensed another presence, like an invisible shadow watching, waiting for the right moment to emerge. But someone was already there — seated in an old metal chair, leaning against a pile of books.

  “Among all the unspoken longs, you chose this place?” he asked, his voice soft and echoing in the silence.

  “I am waiting,” came the reply, without turning, as if lost in the same memories.

  Mecho Cho.

  Her hair was tied in two small pigtails, and she wore a hoodie featuring a cracked hourglass. Beside her, an old clock without hands ticked silently. The atmosphere felt heavy, as if each second held untold secrets.

  “Finally, you’ve come,” she said softly. Her voice seemed to linger, flowing through the gaps of an inaudible uproar. Both of them were trapped in this moment, like a fragment of time waiting to be unraveled.

  Fitran sat beside her. “Did you know I was coming?”

  “No. But the world knows. And the world whispered it to me.” She stared far ahead, as if waiting for something uncertain. In this uncertainty, her feelings mingled between longing and sadness, as if time itself was waiting for her answer.

  Several minutes of silence.

  The wind rustled through the cracks in the walls.

  The wooden floor creaked like old bones reluctant to be forgotten. The sound rang in their ears, reminding them that every step could be a step toward an unavoidable fate.

  “I brought something,” Mecho said. She pulled an old, crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. Her hand trembled slightly, indicating the weight she carried.

  “A timeline?”

  “A fragment. From one possible future.” He grasped the paper tightly, as if protecting a hope from the void.

  Spreading it out, strange words appeared—some resembling code, others resembling poetry. The words seemed alive, as if narrating stories of choices yet to be made, ensnaring both of them in this tale.

  “What is this?” Fitran asked.

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  Mecho looked at him with an expression he had never shown to anyone before. Within that gaze lay unspoken sorrow, like pages of the past that could not be turned back.

  “This is a prophecy... about what happens if you stay in this world.”

  “If you love one of us.”

  “If you... choose.”

  Fitran fell silent. A heavy weight pressed against his chest, as if all his life’s decisions rested on this moment.

  Mecho pointed to a specific part:

  “Spiral of Divergence begins. Structural memory collapse detected. Dream-circuit breach confirmed.”

  “This isn’t about love, Fitran,” Mecho whispered.

  “It’s about what that love brings with it.”

  “More than that.” Mecho stood up. “You are an anomaly. This world has never written you into its script. But we... we are beginning to rewrite our lives because of you.”

  He turned slowly.

  “Ruby dreams of happiness again. Akane has shed her mask. Kana... has discovered a self she never knew. And I... I am starting to hear time scream.”

  Fitran clenched his fist. “What’s wrong with me loving?”

  He felt his heartbeat resonate, as if revealing a long-buried longing. “My love isn’t a mistake, is it?”

  Mecho walked closer. “It isn’t a mistake... if you are an ordinary human.”

  He stopped right in front of Fitran.

  His face was expressionless.

  But his eyes were filled with light and tears.

  “I like the way you don’t speak much, yet everything feels intense. I appreciate your calmness, even when our world shakes. But Fitran…”

  “...you are not the hope.”

  “...you are the nexus of destruction disguised as the answer.”

  Fitran wanted to deny it. But his body... trembled.

  Anxiety haunted him, as if the shadows of fate were dancing before him. “What I fight for is a burden that’s impossible to bear.”

  He knew.

  The strength within him was not dead.

  Void. The old will. A fractured reality.

  Love, in this world, is the spark that brings everything back to life.

  “So... what should I do?” he asked weakly.

  Despair constricted his chest, like a breeze touching calm waters yet tearing through the silence. “Only one question troubles me,” he added, his voice filled with doubt.

  Mecho sat down again.

  He rolled up his sleeves, revealing a small clock tattoo on his wrist. The numbers were inverted.

  “I come from a family of time seers. But I rejected it, unwilling to live only for a future I can't change.”

  He looked at Fitran, as if trying to find answers in his friend’s eyes.

  “But this time, if I can save this world... then I will surrender my feelings.”

  Fitran turned his head sharply.

  “Don’t.”

  Mecho smiled, though a hidden pain lingered within him. “I’m not giving this up because you asked. I’m doing it because I... want a world where Ruby can laugh. A place where Akane can cry. A space where Kana can sing without fear of losing herself.”

  Tears fell.

  The wind whispered through the crevices of dusk, as if accompanying the sorrow that surrounded them.

  “And if it means losing you for that... I will accept it.”

  They remained silent for a long time.

  Then Fitran walked towards the old telescope. He peered into it, but it wasn’t stars he was seeing.

  He saw the faces that were now waiting for him.

  Ruby. Akane. Kana. Mecho.

  And the shadows of the past filled his mind, moments of happiness that now felt distant.

  And one question hung in the air with every smile they wore:

  “If I love you... will you stay?”

  Fitran turned around.

  “Mecho,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “If I choose one among you... will the world fall apart?”

  Mecho nodded. “Yes. But... if you choose not to choose... our world will slowly rot. Without meaning. Without a reason to grow.”

  Fitran closed his eyes, feeling the weight pressing down on his chest. It was as if he could hear the whispers of destiny surrounding him, yearning to know the right choice in the limited time he had. He questioned himself, “Is this all just a lie concealed by love?”

  “So there’s no way out?”

  Mecho placed a hand on his chest. “There is. But you must create it yourself.”

  The soft night wind rustled between them, seemingly urging Fitran to take a bold step. Fear enveloped his heart as he contemplated everything he might lose. “What should I do if that choice changes everything?” he sighed, filled with doubt.