Location: Antique Time Shop “Horologium,” Kichijoji District – 8 Months After Fitran's Departure from Mecho's Life

  For ordinary people, time is simply seconds ticking away. However, for Mecho Cho, time is an echo—a reflection of every unspoken choice. Each tick of the clock resonates like a heartbeat filled with regret, yet the decision is made to not go back. Amid the echoes of the past lies hidden hope, waiting to be expressed in quiet solitude.

  The antique shop was tranquil, filled with old pocket watches, large wall clocks, and a single empty hourglass displayed at the front. Mecho sat at his worktable, turning gears among the hands and the wind, as was his routine. The scent of aged wood and ticking clocks revived memories of beautiful moments once cherished, where laughter and smiles filled the space with meaning.

  But that morning, something changed. An unnamed package appeared at the front of his shop. Inside it:

  – A piece of dimensional shard shimmering like a fragment of the sky,

  – And a handwritten note:

  “One passage. One time. Just once.”

  Mecho gazed at the package.

  In his mind, the image of Fitran resurfaced—a figure that was not merely a memory but the pulse of every passing second.

  A small smile crept across his face.

  “Time cannot be salvaged. But feelings... can be expressed, even if just once.” The whispered words slipped gently from his lips, as if grasping a hope that never faded within his heart.

  He prepared the hour ritual.

  Mecho donned the ceremonial robe of his family—black with silver threads weaving into spiral numbers. He hung an empty hourglass around his neck. His heart raced, pouring all the longing that had long been buried into each movement.

  He called upon the “minor time pathway,” a place where memories once lived without consequences on the primary world. Though his aim was not to alter the past, the shadows of nostalgia felt warm and piercing. Each second there was a residue of hope that settled in his soul, waiting to be rediscovered.

  He did not wish to change the past.

  He only wanted... to meet.

  Destination: 2 days after Fitran's confession to Ruby.

  Location: The rooftop of Fitran's apartment, early dawn.

  Mecho opened a small gate in the middle of his shop. The light curved around him, numbers floated in the air. His breath caught, as if the world around him listened to the anxious beat of his heart. With every step, he hoped these moments would not fade away like the dim glow of distant stars.

  As he stepped forward... the world fell silent. Quiet like the calm before a storm, everything seemed to halt.

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  He appeared on the rooftop. The sky was still dark. And Fitran was sitting there. Alone.

  In the dim light, Mecho felt the chasm between them—equal in emptiness yet different in the hopes that lay buried in each of their hearts.

  Mecho made no sound. He simply sat beside him. The warmth of his presence felt like a flicker of hope in the darkness that enveloped them.

  After a few seconds, Fitran whispered,

  “…I knew you would come.”

  Mecho smiled. “I only have one timeline.”

  “I won’t ask why.”

  “Because you know the answer.”

  Each second brimmed with unspoken words, as if the galaxies understood the longing buried in their hearts, enveloping them in a profound silence.

  Mecho held his hourglass tightly.

  “Once, I thought that loving you would destroy the world. But it turns out that not choosing you... only makes this world feel emptier and quieter.”

  As if time itself was listening to every expression, that sentence floated between them, touching the delicate and fragile threads of their emotions.

  Fitran gazed at her face, the pale moonlight casting the silhouette of a woman who asked for nothing yet offered everything. In the silence surrounding them, he felt the deep loneliness of a world without her presence. The strength of the moonlight seemed to awaken both beautiful and bitter memories, creating an irresistible longing.

  “You are the unwritten second,” Fitran said, his voice trembling like a gentle night breeze. There was a depth in every word spoken, as if revealing everything he had never said before.

  He tried to smile, despite his heart being filled with unspoken longing, and in his gaze, hope and sorrow intertwined, forming an increasingly fragile bridge between them.

  Slowly. Silent. Full of wounds.

  The kiss was not merely a promise; it was a heavy farewell. Around them, what other sound could exist? Only the beating of their hearts intertwined, filling the space between them, creating a haunting symphony of silence.

  As their lips parted, Mecho hung his head. A single tear fell. Each drop seemed to capture all the precious memories that had been forgotten, and the farewell that was hard to accept.

  “Thank you... for once being part of my life.” His voice quivered, as if all the words had gathered in a long moment. Each word emerged, heavy with profound emotions, awaiting release.

  Fitran held his hand tightly.

  “And thank you... for not changing anything.” In that grip was comfort and understanding, even though they knew the path they chose might separate them forever.

  “I don’t need to be your choice.

  “I don’t need to be your choice. Because tonight, I am enough to be the one you meet when you’re uncertain... yet still wish to love.” Each word etched itself into his soul, shaking the walls of Fitran's heart that had been tightly sealed by doubt and pain.

  Back to the present.

  In the “Horologium” store, the clocks continued to tick. However, one space on the shelf remained empty—a reminder of a presence that had vanished. All the clocks functioned, yet every second felt heavier in the air, as if they mourned an unspoken loss, a suffocating silence.

  Mecho never returned from that path, leaving only memories to fill the void, swirling through Fitran's life, reminding him of every smile and laughter that once existed and making them eternal in his memory.

  Yet on the table, someone discovered a handwritten memo:

  “Do not mourn the time that won’t return. Instead, be grateful... for having met.” These words flowed gently, like morning dew touching leaves, offering hope to every reader, embracing sadness with a warm, comforting hug.

  And beneath it, someone had written in almost faded ink:

  “For Fitran. From Mecho.

  “My last moment is your first smile.” These words struck Fitran's heart like a storm, awakening him to the significance of every fleeting second, even if only in memory. He gazed at the piece of paper, struggling to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, feeling the resonance of a love that would never fade, piercing deep into his soul.