Replay

3 Interlude

A/N: From hereon, there will be spoilers from Black Dragons Arc. While this story will not remain faithful to canon, the core cast and their histories will. Furthermore, you may enjoy this story more if you can recognize where I am deviating from the source material. We will continue to deviate further with each arc.

This will be the final chapter up until the end of December. Not only is the corresponding anime season airing in January, I want to release consistent, monthly updates like I did for Valhalla arc (I missed one month, but meh). I write comfortably at 1.5 months per chapter during the school semester, so this hiatus will grant me a head start.

I'm not doing a preview of the next arc this time. What I will say, though, is that a fifth of it will be in Takemichi's POV. Make of that what you will.

T/W for the same kinds of themes as the manga in this time leap: death(s), violence, drugs, guns, etc. I mostly stay within canon's realm of sensitive topics, so I don't give warnings unless I think it's particularly sensitive. Do not hesitate to tell me if it is.

"Ugh." Takemichi scrunched his eyes shut as blinding light from above enveloped his vision. He raised an arm to his face, but an unusual tug at his shoulder had him squint at his arm under the shade of his hand.

A sleek, dark sleeve extended past his wrist, where a branded, silver watch ticked. This was definitely not his typical casual attire.

After a few more blinks, his eyes adjusted to the sunlight pouring in through the tall skylights. Skyscrapers and busy streets spanned out below him and extended to the horizon, where he could distinguish a red tower against the blue sky. Tokyo tower, most likely.

It was obvious that he should still be in Japan, but returning to the present was like opening a save file for a game he hadn't played in ages: there was no welcome-back tutorial or memories of how he'd gotten to that point, and the game expected him to know what he was doing again.

Or, to be more accurate, it was like lending his game to Makoto and then opening his save file to see that all his party members had been kicked and replaced with hot girls. He had some idea of what to expect, as his past self was the hypothetical friend in this scenario, but there was a niggling 'he wouldn't dare...' in the back of his mind while said friend was playing his game out of Takemichi's sight and control.

He stared at his hazy reflection in the skylight, taking in the single-breasted suit buttoned at his chest that made him look quite dashing, which was complimented by a striped tie and his black, gelled-back hair. He angled his body a bit away and straightened the lapels of his jacket.

Damn, his past self had really been on the grind.

"What are you doing?" a feminine voice scoffed behind him.

The only other occupant of the expansive corridor was a woman a little shorter than him, her thin, copper-brown hair tied back in a bun and a form-fitting skirt extending from beneath her suit jacket. A leather briefcase hung beside her bare knees. "Are you coming or not?" she asked from the shade of the hallway.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry." He stepped out of the sunlight and joined her at the inner side of the hallway.

They walked down the long corridor, her short heels clicking and his dress shoes tapping across the tiles. She seemed to know where they were going, striding past the closed doors and staring straight ahead at the end of the hall. Takemichi let his pace fall behind hers.

Who was she? Where was he? His eyes trailed from her figure to the building. The white tiles were spotless and lustrous, as were the glass skylights stretching across the length of one side of the hall. The noontime sun was enough to brighten the corridor, and the light fixtures embedded in the ceiling remained off.