Chapter 3 — The Ideal Life

The next day, I tried out the Uroboros Silver Watch.

In short, it really could turn back time.

If I held the silver watch and pictured the moment I wanted to return to, my consciousness would suddenly cut off. By the time I came to, time had already been rewound.

It happened instantly—no different from switching TV channels.
The first time I tried it, I stupidly braced myself, expecting some magical circle or dramatic phenomenon to appear. Because of that, the simplicity of it all left me strangely disappointed.

Once used, however, the watch couldn’t be used again for thirty-six hours.

Not only could it no longer rewind time, but the second hand would stop entirely, making it useless even as a normal clock. After thirty-six hours passed, the second hand would start moving again and automatically reset to the correct time.

In other words, you could only rewind time while the second hand was moving.

Until I actually turned back time myself, I hadn’t fully believed what the shinigami had told me. If time hadn’t gone back and instead the shinigami appeared holding a sign that said “Surprise!”, I had planned to throw the silver watch straight at her.

And it wasn’t just the watch I had doubts about.

I had doubts about the lifespan as well.

It wasn’t until I actually rewound time that I began to truly feel that I would die in three years.

“Please don’t regret giving away your lifespan… huh.”

I remembered the warning the shinigami had given me at the end and let out a quiet, satisfied grin.

I didn’t regret it.

Not in the slightest.

“Anyway, I’m going to die in three years.”

Just saying those words out loud gave me a strange sense of freedom.
After learning that I only had three years left, I began thinking about how to spend each day. Compared to the days when I constantly thought about suicide, it was a surprisingly positive change.

Back then, I myself was surprised by this shift in mindset. Some people might think it strange that someone would become more positive after giving away their lifespan.

But now, I don’t think it’s strange at all.

There’s a reason for that.

Back when I first started thinking about suicide, I researched euthanasia several times.

There are a few countries where euthanasia is legal. In most cases, it’s only permitted for patients suffering from incurable diseases such as terminal cancer. Some countries require the patient to be experiencing unbearable pain that cannot be alleviated before permission is granted.

No matter the country, it’s considered a last resort to escape suffering.

I once read an article that said:

“Among terminal patients, some were able to maintain their will to live until the very end thanks to the existence of euthanasia.”

The article was discussing the benefits of euthanasia and explained:

“Patients who fear a painful death that cannot be relieved may think, ‘I want to die before the suffering becomes unbearable.’ For such patients, euthanasia—where they can decide their own end—can be a great source of reassurance.”

The article had a strong tendency to romanticize euthanasia, but I still found myself agreeing with its message.

Everyone fears a future they can’t see.

If you can faintly see a cliff waiting ahead of you, the fear becomes even stronger.

I was the same.

For someone like me, who couldn’t even bring himself to like other people, continuing to live felt like running across a bed of needles. I couldn’t imagine any bright ending waiting for me, and I wasn’t even confident I could reach the finish line.

That’s why I thought about suicide—to protect myself from further suffering.

But now, I could see the finish line.

Three years left.

Knowing exactly where the end was gave me comfort. It felt much easier than wandering through life aimlessly without dreams or goals.

Of course, the existence of the Uroboros Silver Watch also played a huge role.

“I’ve got this mysterious watch now. I might as well use it to the fullest until I die.”

With that thought, I tried all kinds of things.

The first idea that came to mind was the obvious one anyone would think of.

Spend money however I liked, and when it ran out—rewind time.

Whether I spent hours playing at the arcade, stayed in the movie theater from morning until night, or kept eating whatever food I wanted—once I rewound time, my money wouldn’t decrease.

But in the end, I always ended up rewinding time before actually spending the money.

It could refresh my mood, but it didn’t really cure boredom.

Other problems soon appeared as well.
For example:

• Items I bought wouldn’t remain after rewinding time.

• As a high school student, the amount of money I could spend at once was limited.

Each time I rewound time, new inconveniences surfaced.

So next, I decided to increase my money instead.

If I rewound time by twenty-four hours, I would be the only one who knew the future of the next day.

With that advantage, I thought I could earn unlimited money through gambling.

First, I memorized lottery numbers, rewound time, and checked whether the numbers stayed the same. I had expected this method to be the fastest way to get rich.

But the result was different.

The winning numbers changed after time was rewound.

I tried horse racing as well, but the rankings often changed compared to before rewinding time. Winning consistently enough to make money was difficult.

From this, I learned an important rule:

Even if you rewind time, the future will not play out exactly the same way.

You’re simply redoing it.

Just like rolling dice again—there’s no guarantee you’ll get the same number.

Lottery drawings were essentially redrawn, and horse races were simply rerun.

The outcome wouldn’t necessarily match what happened before.

The only thing whose results changed less drastically was stocks.

Even with stocks, results changed sometimes. But unlike the completely random lottery, human thinking influenced stock movements, making the outcomes slightly more predictable.

After running several simulations, I concluded that consistent profits were possible.

So I began searching for someone who could buy stocks on my behalf.

Normally I would have bought them myself, but minors required parental consent. My relationship with my parents was terrible, and I had no intention of asking them for help.

So first, I repeatedly rewound time and posted predictions about future market fluctuations on internet message boards.

Gradually, rumors began spreading that my predictions were uncannily accurate.

Once I had gathered enough attention, I suddenly stopped posting predictions.

Then I offered a deal: if someone bought stocks according to my instructions, I would give them a share of the profits.

It didn’t take long to find a volunteer.

I sent instructions via email and kept hitting the mark.

Before long, I had accumulated an enormous amount of money.

Far more than I could ever spend in three years.

The very first thing I bought with that money was an apartment unit.

It was in a twelve-story building, and by chance, a room on the top floor happened to be available.

It was far from a luxury apartment, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get away from my parents as soon as possible.

The problem between us wasn’t simply that we “didn’t get along.”

They were my foster parents.

From the moment they took me in, I never managed to feel at home. As time passed, we gradually grew to dislike each other more and more.

I had no family memories with them.
I had always lived there as if they were strangers.

And very few people can feel comfortable living under the same roof as strangers.

So being able to live alone was a huge turning point for me.

Then I graduated from the high school I had barely bothered attending.

Finally, I was completely free.

I could buy whatever I wanted and eat whatever I wanted without working.

I had a home where I could be alone without needing to kill time outside.

I could live my life without meeting anyone at all.

It was truly the ideal life.

At that time, I was almost worried that I might end up regretting giving away my lifespan because I might start wanting to live longer.

That’s how excited I was.

But that excitement only lasted at the beginning.

No matter how ideal a life may be, repeating the same routine every day eventually becomes monotonous.

Games didn’t hold my interest for long.

Even the pizza and sushi I ordered every day began to lose their appeal.

When I went outside for a change of pace, my dislike of people hadn’t magically disappeared, so I quickly returned to my apartment.

I tried searching for something new to start.

But nothing interested me.

It took less than half a year for my ideal life to turn into a boring one.

Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if I had lived a normal life without giving away my lifespan.

Even if I worked for decades, I probably would never reach the level of comfort I had now.

In fact, I might have committed suicide much earlier.

Even after miraculously obtaining this life, this was the result.

Surely this must be the best life possible.

At that point, the question wasn’t whether I regretted giving away my lifespan or not.

How could I possibly regret it?

If someone knew how, I’d love for them to tell me.

Making a deal with the shinigami had definitely been the right choice.

That was what I believed back then.

Still, my days remained dull.

I spent my time simply waiting for time to pass.

Then, exactly one year after making the deal with the shinigami, something happened that would change everything.

It was Christmas again.

Just like last year, I was spending it alone.

The only difference was that this time, I was at home instead of standing on the bridge.

Snow had started falling in the evening, and I wondered how long it would continue. I turned on the TV to check the weather forecast.

While waiting for it, I watched the nightly news.

But to someone whose life would drop below two remaining years starting the next day, all the news felt meaningless.

Except for one report that caught my attention.

It said:

“A middle school girl was found dead beneath a bridge.”

The body had been discovered that day, so her name and photo had not yet been released.

Authorities were investigating both the possibility of an accident and suicide, but the report clearly implied that it had been a suicide by jumping.

Even though I had little interest in the world anymore, hearing about suicide still caught my attention.

But that wasn’t the part that truly bothered me.

The bridge where the girl fell…

was the same bridge where I had made my deal with the shinigami.

The bridge I used to visit appeared on the TV screen.

The moment I realized that someone else had tried to commit suicide there—and had actually succeeded—something unexpected welled up inside me.

It was a feeling close to joy.

I knew it was messed up to feel happy about someone else’s suicide.

Even so, knowing someone like me had existed filled my chest with an uncontrollable excitement.

What kind of person had she been?

What thoughts had she carried when she jumped?

I forgot all about the weather forecast.

The thought stayed in my head all night.

Even the next day, it wouldn’t leave my mind.

So I decided to go to the bridge myself, partly to clear my head.

I hadn’t visited the bridge for months.

Originally, I only went there when I wanted to be alone, and once I started living by myself, I had no reason to go anymore.

Even after moving, it was still within walking distance. But the snow that had fallen all night hadn’t been fully cleared, so it took me some time to get there.

When I finally arrived, the bridge felt more desolate than I remembered.

Apparently, the girl had jumped from around the middle of the bridge. Police tape had been placed around the sandbar below.

Near the spot where she likely jumped, several bouquets of flowers had been left behind, though there was no formal memorial stand and the number of flowers was small.

I leaned over the railing and looked down at the restricted area.

Jagged rocks spread across the riverbed below.

At night it looked like a bottomless abyss, but in reality, the height was awkward—unless you landed headfirst, it didn’t seem high enough for an instant death.

If she had remained conscious for even a short while after falling…

The thought made me shudder.

As I stared down, a group of four girls who looked like middle school students walked toward me.

At first, I assumed they were the dead girl’s classmates who had come to leave offerings.

But instead, they excitedly pulled out their phones and began taking photos of the suicide site.

Listening to their conversation, I heard things like:

“Thank goodness she’s finally gone.”

“Now we won’t have to see her face ever again.”

I had suspected bullying might have been the cause of the suicide.

But I hadn’t expected the bullies themselves to show up at the scene.

As I listened to them talk, dark emotions swirled inside me—disgust, nausea.

But I had been happy earlier when I heard about the girl’s suicide, thinking she was someone like me.

Condemning them in my head only left me feeling guilty.

After chatting and laughing for a while, the four girls eventually left with satisfied expressions, as if they were returning home from an amusement park.

Once they were gone, the bridge returned to its usual silence.

The only sounds were the flow of the river and the wind.

The police tape fluttered sharply in the wind, making snapping noises, but it couldn’t drown out the gentle sound of the water.

It felt the same as when I used to visit.

A world where everyone had disappeared except for me.

Thinking about the girl who had died, I suddenly felt as though I was the only person left in the world.

It was something close to a sense of loss.

Even someone like me, who rarely interacted with others, had experienced that feeling a few times in the past.

This felt similar.

To someone like me, who had neither family nor friends, other people were either:

• people whose presence or absence didn’t matter

• or people who made me feel uncomfortable

Even though I had never met her, never even seen her face, the mere fact that she had been a suicide hopeful was enough for me to feel a sense of closeness.

And that was why…

I ended up doing something utterly ridiculous.

Something like—

“Rewind time and stop the girl’s suicide.”