Ever since I started school here, my shoe locker gets new "gifts" every day. But this time, it wasn’t some risqué letter—it was a dead rat. Weird. I’d only been here a week, and I couldn’t even name half my classmates. Who’d pull such a prank?
“What’s wrong?” Nanami Hayashi found me standing by my shoe locker. “We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”
I casually pulled out the dead rat. “Nothing. Just a dead rat.”
She screamed and jumped back. “Get that thing away!”
A dead rat? What’s there to fear? Even a human head in my locker wouldn’t faze me.
The dead rat incident was just a minor episode. Maybe some guys resented my arrival. After all, no one’s universally liked.
Classes bored me. All I cared about was finding who tried to kill Nana. Yet she seemed utterly indifferent—or was she hiding something?
“Nana,” I turned to face her. “Are you deliberately concealing the culprit?”
“Of course not! I truly don’t remember,” Nanami Hayashi insisted. Her expression held no cracks. Could the culprit also wield some ability?
I decided to use Time Reversal on her to witness that day myself. “I’ll use Time Reversal to view your memories,” I said, standing. I placed my right hand on her forehead. The Silver Clock materialized, ticking away my lifespan. Every use drained my time; exhaustion meant death. But compared to full Time Reversal, this memory scan cost only a sliver.
In the replay, Nanami Hayashi walked with a classmate. But her companion wore not boys’ uniform like mine—it was a girls’ uniform!
*Cough, cough.* A cough shattered my focus. A voice teased, “Public displays of affection this early? Bad karma awaits.”
It was Yutangqian, one of my few male friends. Baseball was his passion.
I withdrew my hand. “Nana felt unwell. I was checking for fever.”
Yutangqian grinned slyly. “So intimate? Are you dating already? Though that’s obvious.”
Nanami Hayashi shook her head furiously, fast enough to spin three fans. “Absolutely not!”
He nudged my shoulder. “Don’t deny it. You two cling together all day—I get it.”
*Heh. You get nothing.*
Yutangqian added, “Oh, a second-year senior’s been visiting our class, asking where you sit. Kid, you’re building a harem.”
He meant Mingzi Baishi. No wonder I kept losing small items lately. Thanks for the blessing. If I ever start a harem, I’ll thank you personally.
Though brief, the Time Reversal revealed the culprit needn’t be male—it could be a yuri girl.
“Hey, heard the news?” Yutangqian leaned in, gossip-hungry. “Multiple animal cruelty cases. Bodies butchered—brutal.”
Tell me about it. I’d just received a dead rat.
“Witnesses saw the culprit,” he added, frowning. “A girl from our school. Not cute at all.”
This was the clue I’d sought. “Where were the bodies dumped?”
Yutangqian scratched his head. “Near New Leaf Café. Hurting their business.”
Finally, a lead. “Nana, we’ll check it after school.”
Yutangqian winked. “Cold Creek, enjoy your date.”
Nanami Hayashi opened her mouth to protest, but he’d already vanished.
Honestly, this was my first proper café visit here. I disliked coffee, but their chocolate ice cream had good reviews. My real goal? Time Reversal.
“What would you like?” A maid-clad waitress asked in a sugary voice. No guy dislikes maids—but I’d heard these cafés offered “special services.” Don’t imagine weird stuff. Just cutesy nicknames and “love magic” gestures. With Nanami Hayashi present, she skipped the saccharine terms.
“Chocolate ice cream,” I pointed at the menu. Nanami Hayashi ordered vanilla cake.
“By the way,” I stopped a waitress delivering orders. “Heard about pranks here. Can you talk?” I knew this’d annoy her. She frowned. “Bored jerks leaving dead cats and dogs at the door. Sick.”
“When did it happen?” I pressed.
“About a week ago,” she snapped, walking off.
No useful clues. Time to reverse the entire café. The Silver Clock glowed above me. Area-wide time manipulation drained far more than single targets—but simple Time Reversal was manageable.
My consciousness slipped back a week. The killings hadn’t occurred yet. I accelerated time flow. Nighttime now. During Time Reversal, I was merely an observer—no interaction. For that, I’d need Time Travel, costing a hundredfold more time.
There. A girl in a beige jacket, shorts, and black stockings entered view. She carried a white plastic bag—now stained crimson. She scanned the area: café closed, streets empty. She dumped the contents. Mutilated cat and dog corpses spilled out, guts trailing. The deranged culprit? Rika Dojima. Our short-haired, freckled class rep.
