It... Worked.
At last, there are no remnants looming ahead or a Kagali echoing in my mind.
Instead, a different scene commands my attention.
A warm and inviting apartment.
Within, there's a modest room adorned with a small bed and a study table where I must have awakened. The air carries a sense of familiarity, and as I glance around, it dawns on me.
This, without a doubt, is my room. Or, at least, it was, many years ago.
"What... The hell?"
My hands, oddly petite, fumble as I search for a hand mirror in the room. The reflection reveals the mystery behind my transformed appearance.
I'm young once more, even more so than before. Glancing at the calendar, I realize it's three years before the incident, three years before my parents will meet their fateful end. This body is young, perhaps around 12 years old...
Could it be that this time... I've journeyed back to the past?
.
.
.I descend the stairs for breakfast, a routine etched in my memory from the days spent in this house. As I step into the familiar scene, my recollections hold true.
"Oh, Yuuki! Early riser today. Usually, you'd snooze until 10 on weekends," a gruff voice resonates, unmistakably my usual muscle-headed father seated in the living room, newspaper in hand. He is a man of tall build and short brown hair, a visible scar and tattoos spread out all over his upper bodies. His name is Kenji Kagurazaka.
"Hmm? I'll whip up some breakfast for you then~," a gentle voice floats in from the kitchen—my mother. She wore an apron atop her loungewear. Her long black hair tied on a pony tail and her gentle voice assuring a meal for the early riser that is apparently me. Her name is Mei Kagurazaka.
It can't be... but it is. They're real. They existed.
"Father?" I address him on the couch, and he shifts his attention from the newspaper to me.
"Father? Not 'dad'? Yuuki, are you hitting me up for cash again?" A teasing grin flashes across his face, swiftly replaced by a furrowed brow.
"...Son, you okay...?"
Huh?
Oh, right...
But the cascade of tears streaming down my cheeks doesn't seem solely attributed to my younger age. Thus I smiled, and told him not to worry.
"Oh... I must've had a nightmare."
.
.
.
As my dad inquired about mom who is packing her stuff, "You're going to your lab?" a flood of memories surged within me. Reflecting on my family had never been a common occurrence, especially considering their abrupt departure from my life.
In my early years, my father had claimed to be a bodyguard, a notion I always found dubious. A bodyguard wouldn't have a cadre of subordinates and engage in peculiar traditions, or so I thought.
The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place when I observed my father in the present. Kenji Kagurazaka, his tall build and scar on his face gave off a threatening look to my friends back in elementary school.
It became evident that he was more than just a bodyguard; he bore the unmistakable signs of a Yakuza member. The truth lingered in the air, a revelation that reshaped my understanding of my father's past.
In stark contrast, my mother, Miyano Kagurazaka charted a different course. A dedicated researcher, her focus intensified during certain times of the year. I recalled her engrossed in significant projects, a testament to her commitment to the world of science.
The duality of my parents' lives unfolded before me, one veiled in the clandestine world of organized crime, the other immersed in the pursuit of knowledge within the confines of a laboratory.
Since I've been given the chance to at least meet them again, there's only one thing any regressor like me would do... Save them from the car crash.
Wouldn't that create a paradox? Imagine eliminating someone in the past to prevent a catastrophic event in the future. By erasing the catalyst for that tragedy, your past self would lack the motivation to time travel in the first place.
It sets in motion a loop of cause and effect that spirals into a perplexing paradox, leaving everyone uncertain about the ensuing consequences.
However, based on my 180 regression experiences, an intriguing revelation surfaced: despite traversing through time, I retained all memories from each temporal excursion.
This suggests that what transpired wasn't conventional time travel. Instead, it felt as though the world underwent a copy-paste maneuver, overlaying one reality atop another without overwriting a crucial file—myself. If the data of my existence remained intact, echoing across the temporal layers without losing a single fragment of the past...
Then... "Mom! Can you take me to the lab?" No matter what I did, it won't cost my body or soul.
"Eh? Yuu-kun wants to go? " She smiled at me, "Last time I take you there you were complaining about having to wear the lab coat though~?" With a sing-a song tone she tried to tease me with my past memories.
"W-well it was because your lab Coat was too big... Besides! I want to see what's You're working on... It was a particle accelerator, right?"
"Eh?" A face of surprise painted her face. "We-well yes! I see Yuu-kun paid attention before too then!"
This time... It won't be the same.
.
.
.To be continued.
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Tensura: Yuuki Kagurazaka
FanfictionDISCLAIMER: The following is a fan-based fiction, inspired by Tensura, owned by Fuse-sensei, and other fictional works. Please support the official release. ------ Yuuki Kagurazaka experiences regression 180 times upon each victory, unleashing havoc...