Chapter 10: Abandoned Anchor

Next stop is… next stop is… The next stop is…

Seated in a spot far steadier than a subway or bus, I gazed absentmindedly at the scenery rushing past.

The world outside blurred at high speed, barely registering in the corner of my vision. I let myself drift in and out of thought, the music from my earphones filling the quiet in my head.

It was Saturday noon, and I was alone on the Shinkansen. My destination was somewhere I had checked over and over again on Google Maps' Street View.

I knew this was wrong. Not telling anyone where I was going, lying to my parents that I was heading to Ren’s house, sneaking off like this—it was completely unlike me. But right now, I felt like I had to see it with my own eyes.

As the in-train announcements played, I idly scrolled through my phone, opening and closing random apps. Even though no notifications had come in, I checked my LINE chat list more times than I could count.

Traveling alone, especially somewhere I'd never been before, filled me with an overwhelming sense of unease.

It took more courage than I thought to do something like this. The guilt of lying to my parents, the thrill of doing something reckless, the creeping anxiety of being alone—it all churned inside me, making it impossible to sit still.

More than once, I fought the urge to call Ren. Maybe it was fear of what I’d find when I got there. Maybe it was just the loneliness. Either way, my fingers tightened around my phone as if clinging to something solid, trying to stop my hands from trembling.

I couldn’t keep going like this. Desperate for a distraction, I switched out the slow ballad playing in my ear for something more upbeat. But as I scrolled through my playlist, I realized something—almost every song was dark and melancholic.

With a sigh, I stopped the music and pulled out my earphones. Maybe it was better this way. At least I wouldn’t risk missing the announcement… yeah.

I turned my gaze outside, and for the first time, I really saw the unfamiliar scenery rushing past. A strange unease crept in. What am I even doing?

Spending this much money on a whim—what was I thinking? The impulse that had pushed me out the door now felt distant, almost absurd. Regret gnawed at me, but it was too late to turn back now. No amount of second-guessing would change anything.

"Next stop, ×××… We will be stopping shortly."

Lost in endless loops of thought, I barely noticed that I had already arrived. The train glided to a stop so smoothly, without any jolt or G-force, that I might have missed my stop entirely if I’d been more distracted. Guess taking off my earphones was the right call.

Careful not to hit my head on the luggage rack, I stood up and stepped off the bullet train.

The station was neither small nor large, carrying a slightly worn-down atmosphere. It should have been my first time here, yet it felt strangely familiar.

As I walked forward, my feet felt heavier than they should in a place like this. The station was eerily silent—so quiet that even the sound of swallowing might have echoed.

But even if this place had been packed with people, I doubt I would have heard anything at all.

My mind rejected everything except what my eyes could see. It felt like I was floating, detached from reality.

I knew I was walking—my shifting perspective told me so—but the weight in my chest made it feel more like I was drifting rather than moving.

I passed through the ticket gate and stepped out of the station entrance.

Without thinking, my grip loosened, and my phone slipped from my hands, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

A tightness wrapped around my chest—so strong, so suffocating. What was this feeling called? Sadness? Anger? Resignation? …Or nostalgia?

A torrent of emotions swirled together, surging through me like a muddy, overflowing stream.

Before I even realized it, something warm was sliding down my cheek.

Of course. I should have known the moment I set foot here.

This place—the one that had haunted my dreams countless times—was my hometown from a past life.

---

This world is eerily similar to the one from my past life. Not identical—just close.

The names of major companies, historical figures… nearly everything aligns with what I once knew. It feels like an extension of my previous life, so familiar that I rarely experience any sense of displacement.

And yet, there are differences. The dates of major disasters don’t match. COVID-19 never happened. Every now and then, something reminds me that this world is not the same.

By some twist of fate, my birthday is exactly the same as before—the year, the day, everything.

There was a time when I thought my past-life knowledge might allow me to change things, to prevent tragedies like earthquakes from taking as many lives.

It wasn’t out of some noble desire to save people.

Knowing disaster was coming and choosing to do nothing—it was simply too painful. I just wanted to escape the guilt.

But the disasters I remembered never happened. And in their place, new ones emerged—ones I did not know of.

In the end, my knowledge was useless.

And even if history had repeated itself exactly, what could a single child like me have done?

I’m getting off track. The point is, no matter how similar this world seems, it isn’t the same one I once knew.

And yet, standing here, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.

The park’s location, its name, and even the townscape have all changed slightly. But beneath those differences, the remnants of the town I once knew still linger.

No—"remain" isn’t quite the right word. But somehow, I understand instinctively. This is, without a doubt, the town I once lived in.

To confirm, I went to the spot where my elementary school had once stood.

But there was nothing there.

As expected, it isn’t the same town I spent my childhood in. And yet, the park my grandmother took me to—only once, when I was very young—was still here, just as I remembered it.

Without thinking, I ran toward the playground equipment.

The children playing nearby shot me startled glances, but I barely noticed.

Ah… it really is the same slide.

A small one, shaped like some kind of animal. I never figured out what animal it was supposed to be. Nearby, a rope structure—maybe a jungle gym?—stood just as I remembered, though I never knew its proper name.

Even as a high schooler, the equipment was far too small for me. The only thing that seemed usable was the swing.

I sat down, watching the children climb the rope structure with ease.

And for a while, I simply let myself sink into the past.

I wonder… was there ever a time when I could laugh so innocently?

No matter how much I searched through the memories of my past life, I could barely recall any moments of happiness. And yet… strangely, I didn’t feel sad.

Because in this life, all my memories were bright. Warm.

And in each of those brilliant moments, his figure was always there.

Ah… truly, it’s a treasure beyond anything I could have imagined in my previous life.

Having received so much from him, am I still trying to rely on him? What a selfish, terrible person I am.

A wave of self-loathing surged through me, and I realized I couldn’t stay here any longer. I turned my back on the park and walked away.

I had to return before anyone noticed I was gone. If I were late and my worried mother called Ren, it would be over.

After wandering through my hometown for a while, I finally turned toward the place I had been avoiding—the real reason I had come here.

I had no idea what emotions would surface when I arrived. The thought terrified me. I wanted to turn around, to pretend this never happened, to go home and forget.

But I couldn’t.

This was something I had to face. If not now, then someday.

So I walked, step by step, planting my feet firmly on the path I had traveled so many times before.

The closer I got to my destination, the more I cursed this town for looking exactly as I remembered it.

How much easier would it have been if everything had changed?

Just two more side streets, and I’d be there.

I could already see the large building I had used as a landmark countless times as a child. Every time I saw it back then, a heavy feeling settled in my chest.

And now, that same weight returned.

Ah… if I turn this corner, it’ll come into view.

Fifteen meters. That’s all that remained.

But my body refused to move.

I stopped, frozen in place, fear gripping me like ice.

What if something inside me snapped? What if seeing it changed everything?

The fear was vague, but it was suffocatingly real.

I can’t stay like this forever.

I placed a hand on my chest and took a deep breath.

Sigh…

Alright. A man needs courage. Trembling like this is pathetic.

I-I’ll go…! I-I'm not scared or anything…!

This is nothing. A piece of cake.

Before I could think any further, I forced my trembling legs to move. Pushing aside the fear, I stepped forward.

And finally, I arrived.

The building was slightly different from how I remembered it, but the surrounding scenery… not a single thing had changed.

And then—

『Tachibana』.

The nameplate bore a surname I could never forget.

The surname that had once been mine.

---

On the land where my house once stood, a near-identical structure had been rebuilt.

And on the nameplate by the door—

『Tachibana』.

The exact surname I had once carried.

The scenery was so eerily familiar that, for a moment, I wondered if this place alone had been left untouched by time, somehow still connected to my past life.

Then, the memories came flooding back.

Memories of being hit by my older brother.
Memories of the affectionate gazes meant only for him.
And the eyes that looked at me—empty, indifferent, as if I were nothing more than a stain on the wall.

No matter what I did, it never mattered.

I helped. I studied. I worked hard for praise.

I even maintained the top grades in my class.

But my mother and father treated me as if I didn’t exist.

The only person who had ever been on my side—Grandma—was gone before I even had the chance to hold onto her warmth.

Still, I remember it.

That single, fleeting moment of kindness from my mother.

『Look! I got 100 on my science test!』
『Hehe, you worked hard. Keep it up and be a good child, okay?』
『Yeah!』

So I did.

I kept trying to be a good child.

And before I realized it, I wasn’t trying anymore—it had become who I was.

Even at school, I was the so-called 'annoying model student.' The one who forced rules and discipline onto others.

It made it hard to make friends.

Looking back now… why was I so foolish?

Maybe I should have at least been good at something else.

No… it wasn’t necessarily wrong to work hard.

But I should have learned—just a little—how to survive in this world.

sigh…

Taking a deep breath, I try to steady myself. Memories surge like waves, heavy and relentless, but in the end, they’re just fragments of the past. No — they have to stay in the past.

I came here to confront how much I was still shackled to my previous life.

I thought facing it would shatter me all over again. But, surprisingly, I realized I had come to terms with it more than I expected.

As I lived each day in this life, finding happiness in fleeting moments, I could feel the "me" inside slowly eroding. I knew it, yet I kept turning away from that truth. The only thing anchoring me to the idea that I was still myself... was the existence of my past.

Whether I was "boku" or "watashi" had become indistinct. Even my self-identification as a man — the last fragile thread tying me to "boku" — now felt blurred.

There was a version of myself who felt nothing when seeing a woman’s naked body.
There was a version of myself who unconsciously adopted feminine gestures, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And, more than anything...

Maybe, back then, I had been desperately clinging to the remnants of who I used to be.

But coming here made me understand.

In the end, "boku" had truly died.

The memories of those hellish days still lingered, seared into my mind like scars that refused to fade. But I had spent so long living in this body that those memories no longer felt like something I had lived through — more like the remnants of someone else’s distant agony.

They say people eventually lose the details of their memories, and only the emotions remain — sadness lingers simply because it was sad.

If those emotions have already faded to this extent, then maybe the "me" from back then really is gone.

There’s no reason to linger here. I should leave.

Just as I convinced myself to start walking again, a child’s high-pitched voice called out from behind me.

"Big sister, what’s wrong? Are you Kotone-nee’s friend?"

I turned around, startled. A small boy stood at my feet, gazing up at me with wide, curious eyes. He tilted his head slightly.

I glanced down at myself — a high school girl, standing around absentmindedly, staring at someone’s house. No matter how you looked at it, I must have seemed suspicious.

"Uh, um... I guess you could say that... haha."

"Hmmm..."

"Hey, where are you going, Shun? ...Oh, are you Kotone’s friend?"

A woman appeared, chasing after the boy.

The moment I saw her face, my breath caught in my throat.

That figure was far too familiar.

The figure that had bound me like a curse for so, so long...

It was unmistakably my mother from my previous life.

"Uh, um... well..."

"Sorry, Kotone has gone out to play for now."

"Ah... I see..."

"I’m sorry you came all this way."

But her gentle expression was nothing like the mother I remembered. The soft, tender smile she wore — I had never seen that on her face before.

And this small child's name...

"No, it’s totally fine. I’ll head home for today."

"I’m really sorry. Take care, okay? By the way, what’s your name?"

"...I’m Sumire. Excuse me for today."

As I turned to leave, the realization slowly sank in.

In this world, I am truly loved.

The way my mother looked at her son — no, at this person’s son — was filled with a warmth so ordinary, so simple, that it could be found in any loving household.

But this time, I no longer felt envy.

And surely, it will stay that way from now on.

---

After taking the Shinkansen back, I clutched my head over the unbearably painful expense—but instead of dealing with reality, I escaped straight to Ren’s house.

As usual, his dad let me in, and I stormed into Ren’s room.

"Wheee! Your beloved childhood friend has arrived! Show me the utmost hospitality!"

"Please leave."

"Nope."

Ren sat in his chair, completely absorbed in a mobile game.
He gave me a brief glance—just a split second—before immediately looking away and resuming his game.

Relieved yet slightly annoyed by his ridiculously indifferent reaction, I quietly crept up behind him.

Timing it perfectly as he leaned forward, I swiftly slid my body between his back and the chair.

Pressing myself against him as tightly as possible, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him with all my strength.

"Hey! What the heck are you doing all of a sudden?!"

"I'm exhausted today, so just be my body pillow."

"Stop—wait—can you let go for a second?"

"Nope~."

Hehehe, I’m so happy…

Ignoring his struggles, I tightened my arms around him even more.

After a few rounds of resistance, Ren finally gave up, his body relaxing as if surrendering to his fate.

Nestled against his back, I let myself sink into his warmth.
It was a little hot—it was summer, after all—but strangely, it still felt comfortable.

Maybe I was just feeling sentimental today. Maybe I just needed this.

And so, I held on to that warmth, letting it soothe me, until my thoughts slowly melted into a light doze.