Yue Feather’s wardrobe stood empty, just like this room. Just like his heart.

Only a few clothes hung inside. The most noticeable were several school uniforms dangling above, while some underwear lay carelessly below.

He pulled out an oversized shirt he’d barely worn and a brand-new pair of men’s boxers, placing them beside Silver Bell.

“Uh… hurry and put these on. It’s summer, but… you might catch a chill…” Yue Feather stammered, his tone stiff. When was the last time he’d cared for someone like this?

He couldn’t even remember.

Yue Feather stepped out, gently closing the door behind him. The rustling sounds from inside made him want to turn back, but he forced his feet forward into the bathroom.

Silver Bell’s beauty felt sacred, untouchable. He refused to let fleeting temptation lead him astray.

*Whoosh—* He twisted the old cross-shaped faucet, cupping cold water in his palms and splashing it onto his face. The chill sharpened his thoughts instantly.

Droplets slid slowly down his cheeks, pattering softly against the sink.

The rustling from the room had stopped. Even the ever-present cicadas fell silent. An eerie quiet swallowed the house. The world seemed to hold only Yue Feather again.

His footsteps echoed alone, unnaturally clear, piercing deep into his soul.

*Thud. Thud.* He tapped lightly on the door. “Silver Bell… are you… dressed?”

No answer. Only dead silence. Not a whisper from within, as if the room were empty.

Yue Feather’s heart lurched.

Had everything just been a hallucination?

Unable to bear the dread, he pushed the door open.

*Click.*

The crisp sound of the knob turning felt like his own heart shattering.

The room was empty.

No trace of her remained.

His heart plummeted.

Still, he forced a smile—bitter, strained.

“Of course… just a hallucination.” He clenched his fist. Her scent still lingered on his skin. The cute anime girl on his poster smiled as always, but her gaze no longer soothed him. It only stirred restless frustration.

The touch had felt so real.

The voice had sounded so real.

The fragrance had seemed so real…

Why did she vanish like a dream?

Yue Feather trudged heavily toward the balcony.

The half-closed door groaned on its hinges.

Suddenly, his eyes widened. His sunken heart hammered wildly in his chest.

He longed to reach for her, yet feared his hand would pass through empty air. Feared she was just another phantom.

*Even if it’s an illusion… just let her stay a little longer.*

*Just seeing her back… would be enough. Would make me happy…*

…

I watched his figure disappear behind the slowly closing door. Dawn’s first light stretched his shadow long and slanting across the floor.

Then the door shut.

The clothes he’d brought me lay beside my hand.

A familiar feeling. When I was young, besides my uniform, I’d owned only a few identical shirts like these. While others chased trends, I always trailed far behind.

Always like that.

I seemed nostalgic, but really—I just feared stepping into new territory. Feared touching anything unfamiliar.

Afraid of failing. Afraid of getting hurt. So I kept running away.

Like buying clothes: I avoided trendy styles, terrified I’d look worse in them than in my old ones.

I studied myself in the full-length mirror.

An oval face. A small, upturned nose. Pink, dewy lips. My eyes weren’t large—single-lidded—but harmonized with my features, radiating quiet grace. A teardrop mole beneath my eye added life to this almost unreal beauty.

I stopped staring. Though it was my own reflection, it felt strange. By age alone, I could’ve been this girl’s father.

The shirt that fit my younger self now hung loose on this petite frame. The hem draped halfway down my thighs like a dress. The sleeves swallowed my hands; only my fingertips peeked out unless I rolled them up.

It didn’t matter. These weren’t the thoughts I needed now. Clearing my head came first.

The side effects of time reversal had tangled my memories. Days would pass before I could sort them properly.

Especially the turning points. I had to map them out. Prepare early.

But first… I wanted to see landscapes nearly erased from memory.

From the balcony, village-style houses dotted the view. Narrow roads never jammed. On clear mornings, mobile breakfast stalls lined the streets. Their faint aromas drifted even from afar.

Dawn was still young. Few pedestrians walked below. A few birdcalls carried clearly through the quiet air.

I lifted my gaze. A pale blue sky stretched above, clouds drifting lazily—a sight rare in the future.

Though I only remembered ten years ahead, even that short span had transformed this small city. Gray haze choked the sky. Those unique village houses vanished, replaced by skyscrapers. Residential blocks rose fifteen stories high; offices climbed thirty.

Birdsong disappeared. Only car engines roared.

The air turned thick with dust from endless construction sites…

Maybe it’d be better if time froze right here.

The balcony door creaked open. I sensed him step inside, watching me from the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” I turned, feigning ignorance.

This was my younger self. I knew him inside out. He was trembling between hope and doubt—wondering if I was real or another phantom.

Suddenly, I felt grateful for this girl’s body. Before finding him a girlfriend, perhaps I could fill his loneliness. Help him grow comfortable living with a girl. So he wouldn’t freeze around others later.

“Ah… nothing… I just thought… you’d vanished.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll stay.” I reassured him. His cheeks flushed pink.

Unbelievable. *This* version of me could ever date anyone?

No wonder my youthful romances all failed.

“Ahem!” He coughed, breaking the awkwardness. “I’ll buy breakfast. What would you like?”

“Same as yours.”

“Right… I’ll go now…”

I watched him vanish again. A strange feeling washed over me—like watching my own son leave.

Perhaps never being a father made me slip into that role when facing my past self.

Father…

Maybe I *was* standing in a parent’s place now. Planning for his future. Protecting his future. Taking responsibility for his future.

*Don’t worry. I’ll arrange everything for you.*

I promised myself.

High school’s three short years carved unforgettable memories into me. Especially the bitter taste of being a spare tire.

*Heh.* Pretty girls always drew boys like moths to flame.

Even knowing the odds were slim, they couldn’t resist trying.

I’d been one of them. I knew plain, ordinary me didn’t deserve her. Yet I kept striving, hoping to win her heart someday.

But love isn’t won by effort alone. And gratitude? Far more complicated.

For three years, I pinched pennies. Spent every allowance on her. Even gifted her a phone.

*A phone.* Back then, that price tag was a fortune no student could afford. I’d saved two summers’ wages for it.

Her thanks lasted days. Her warmth lasted days. Then she grew distant again.

Whenever I nearly gave up, she’d draw close—dangling just enough hope.

Young me must have sensed the truth. But I lied to myself until graduation finally revealed my place:

Just a spare tire.

I won't let the mistakes of my youth repeat themselves. By contrast, there was a better girl who once showed me affection, but I let her down.

But this time, I won't fail her again.