I stared down the street, waiting.

  A black car screeched up the road towards me.

  My lips twisted into a confident smirk.

  Just moments before it ran me down, I sidestepped smoothly, the wind tugging my hair as it hurtled past.

  As soon as the black car disappeared beyond the horizon behind me, another one appeared in the distance ahead.

  I had wondered whether it was the same car or a different one, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

  I had lost track of how many runs it had been since my conversation with the mysterious man by the riverbank—what's the use of keeping track? I sought him out the very next run, but he was gone.

  It was unbelievable. But 12 runs spent seeking him out forced me to swallow the hard truth.

  I still couldn't recall where I had seen him before. I knew he was an integral part of solving the time loop, but it was useless if I couldn't even find him.

  After those fruitless attempts, I lost my purpose. It was just like he told me. It would've been better if I did nothing. Everyone would be happier.

  And so, that's what I did. Nothing.

  For a while, that was enough, just existing. But the weight of my existence grew unbearable as time trickled past.

  An hour isn't that long of a time. Even the 130 runs or so I did for the mansion was just 4-5 full days. It was nothing, a fraction of a life. But to me, it was a lifetime.

  I sidestepped the black car without looking.

  Boredom gnawed at my being, and before I could do something unwise, I sought out my targets. The Tycoon was first, and our conversations were always a delightful distraction. I didn’t neglect the others, though.

  I had spent so long trying to save them, but—as I realized with Firestarter—I hadn’t really seen them as people. So, I took this chance to get to know them.

  Perhaps that was a mistake. I wanted to help them more after knowing them. But I couldn't. I don't have the capability. Even after I helped them, it would all be meaningless in the next run. Like sandcastles near the ocean.

  The screech of burning rubbers caught my attention. The black car had gotten creative and drifted towards me with a sinister precision. I ran forward and vaulted over it in a fluid motion.

  If I really wanted to save everyone properly, I would need to solve the time loop. So I decided to revisit the clues. Which was how I found myself confronting the black car again. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was playing with it. What else was there to do? The clues hadn't panned out, no matter what I tried.

  I didn't go on another suicide spree though. I didn't know better back then, using pain and self-flagellation as a misguided outlet. But dying is easy. You just need to stand there and take it. Preventing deaths, on the other hand, that took true skill.

  The black car held no more danger for me though, so this was getting boring too.

  Beep.

  I stepped forward to steady myself. As always, helplessness and despair drowned out my world. What was the point? I couldn't even end it all. Remembering the suicide spree put me in a nostalgic mood, so I decided I would visit the boy this run.

  I watched the boy jump, his eyes fixed on the balloons above.

  I stayed quiet. It was pointless to try to talk to him anyway, he never responded.

  As ordained by fate, at 11:16, the boy jumped and stumbled.

  Arms crossed, I extended a leg to nudge and prevent him from falling. Even if it doesn’t matter, I didn't want to see him die right in front of me.

  And so it went. The boy jumped. Stumbled and lost his balance. I nudged him. The boy went back to jumping.

  As I watched him, I felt an itch in my heart. A veritable mix of impatience, ridicule, despair, envy, anger, frustration, grief, and encouragement.

  Words bubbled up before I could suppress them. "What's the point?”

  I felt an irrational anger rise, burning in my chest. “Why do you try so hard? What's impossible is impossible."

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  My voice grew louder as the anger erupted. "Do you think you could grow wings and fly? Do you think the balloons will take pity on you and float lower so you can grab them?"

  The boy smiled and shook his head, then jumped again.

  I sighed. "Forget it. Jump all you want. You won't fall and die with me here at least."

  The boy spent the entire hour tirelessly reaching for the balloons.

  When it was 11:59, I sighed.

  "In the end, you didn't achieve anything, kid."

  The boy stared at me mutely, panting slightly. He grinned, content.

  I stepped back in surprise, seeing the look in his eyes. He wasn’t defeated. He was satisfied.

  Beep.

  A step forward to prevent falling.

  The boy's grin was stuck in my mind. It was foolish, childish, illogical, and insane.

  But it was also inspiring. I stood rooted on the spot, enlightened.

  To live is to struggle. So I will struggle. Even if it's unsightly. Even if it's pointless. Even if it drove me mad.

  I would strive to break the time loop. Not only so I wouldn't have to live the same hour repeatedly. If the child was allowed to continue jumping even past noon, would he have managed to grab one? For the sake of seeing that future, I would do my best to struggle.

  I strolled towards the child. He was jumping again. I knew he didn't remember anything from the last run. But I was sure that even if he remembered, he would still be here. Jumping.

  "You're insane, kid," I said to him.

  The boy laughed silently.

  It was the first time I've seen him do that. I stepped closer to him and extended both my arms. "Do you trust me? Come closer."

  He did.

  I hoisted him up, recalling the run when I forcibly tried to carry him away. But that wasn't my intention this time.

  I made him stand on my shoulders. “Careful,” I said, holding him steady. "Can you reach them now?"

  There was no reply. Of course there wasn't. I looked up.

  The boy held a balloon in each hand, grinning down at me.

  I smiled back. "Finally. Damn, I should've done this ages ago. Come on down now."

  The boy shook his head.

  "What? You want more? Get more then."

  The boy offered a balloon to me instead.

  I smiled. "For me? Thank you. But get down first, you'll fall at this rate."

  The boy stomped on my shoulder, urging me to take it.

  "Argh, fine. Don't move," I took the balloon.

  The boy closed his hand around my fist, as if not allowing me to let go.

  I stared at him in confusion, not sure what he's trying to do.

  He grinned at me.

  An ominous feeling rose in me.

  The boy started floating.

  I gaped, doubting my eyes. But no, the boy was really floating. The balloon he clutched in his right hand floated, hoisting him. His left hand held my right in a firm grip, dragging me along as he soared higher.

  Before I could react, we were already higher than the second-story buildings around us.

  I clutched his arm with both hands, alarmed.

  "What?!" I looked below us. "What the hell?!"

  The world spun beneath me as I watched the street get smaller. If we continue like this, would we fly away to outer space?

  “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” I asked in a dazed voice.

  “Not yet, you’re not," a voice replied from nearby.

  We were high in the sky. The only other person beside me was...

  I whipped my head up to stare at the boy.

  "What?" he asked. His voice was light and high-pitched, with an airy and wispy quality to it.

  I was dumbfounded.

  The boy smirked.

  I stammered. "You-you..."

  "What you? Never heard someone speak before?" the boy asked mischievously.

  "You can speak?!"

  "Obviously. I'm doing it now aren't I?" the boy rolled his eyes.

  A strange incongruity permeated me. "You don't sound like a 10-year old child," I said uncertainly.

  "What?! This voice is perfectly child-like right? I worked hard on it!" he said, flustered.

  How can one work on their voice? "I'm not talking about the voice," I said.

  "Oh, phew. Who told you I was only 10 years old? Don't judge people by appearance please," he said with a raised eyebrow.

  Wasn't he the one concerned about how he sounded? I decided to move on for the sake of my sanity.

  "How are we flying?" I asked.

  "We? There is no we. I am flying. I'm just bringing you along...for now," he gave an innocent smile.

  "For now?! What do you mean for now? Put me down first before you do anything," I said.

  The boy shook his head. "Start dreaming."

  Did this boy want to kill me or something? Please spare me, I have a weak heart! I can't take this.

  The boy laughed at my expression. "Go on, dream."

  He said dream as if it would mean something to me. I ran over our conversation again. Didn't he say something weird at the start?

  "Back then, what do you mean I'm not dreaming yet?" I asked.

  "Exactly that. Now dream already," he said.

  "I don't get it," I said.

  "Ugh. Of course you don't. You’re too grown up," said the boy.

  “Grown ups can’t dream?”

  “They can I suppose. Boring dreams. Barely able to float," the boy scoffed dismissively.

  I came to a realization then. "I need to dream to fly?"

  "Obviously! Keep up mister. That's what I've been telling you all this time," the boy shot back.

  Ugh. I think I liked him better when he was mute.

  "Stop getting distracted and start dreaming already," said the boy.

  "How?"

  "Don't you have a dream? This is why grownups are so..." the boy's voice trailed off as he muttered to himself.

  I understood him then. "You mean like goals?"

  The boy nodded. "Close enough. Now think about yours."

  Hanging in the sky and left with no other choice, I complied.

  What is my aspiration?

  The answer came immediately. To get out of this time loop.

  I opened my eyes and looked at the boy expectantly.

  The boy looked at the balloon in my hand.

  I followed his gaze just in time to watch it swell and pop.

  We stared at the limp string flailing in the wind.

  The boy burst out laughing.

  "Hey now, quit it. What's going on?" I asked.

  The boy laughed harder.

  I sighed.

  "Haha. Ha. Alright, I'll stop, sorry. Don't sulk," the boy said.

  "I'm not sulking."

  "Uh-huh. How did you even do that? Did you dream about making the sun rise from the west tomorrow?"

  My brows furrowed. So you're saying escaping the time loop is impossible?

  The boy pulled and hugged me close. "Sorry. I shouldn't have laughed. Let's get another balloon."

  The hug erupted a cocktail of emotions inside me. I stiffened, unsure how to respond. When was the last time I received a hug?

  Then a flash of alarm rose. What did he just say? Get another balloon?

  Before I could ask, the boy held me tighter and whispered, "down we go."

  We fell from the sky, my stomach lurching from the sudden drop.

  I struggled in panic, but the boy held me with supernatural strength, stifling any resistance.

  I sighed and accepted my fate.

  So this is why he held me tight. Give me back my feelings!