It was summer, and the scorching sun was burning Akabane Karma's pale skin and eyes as he looked up. There was literally no cloud above, just the bright round sun up ahead. He winced to reduce the brightness, but it still wasn't enough; so he covered his eyes with his palm. His other hand, meanwhile, was holding tightly to the rusty chain that connected the swing to the corroded blue pipes. Sliding his phone out of his pocket, he opened the lock and checked what day is today and the time.

August 15th, 12:30 in the middle of the day. Subconsciously, Karma groaned, "Agh, that's why it's so damn hot."

"Well, it is summer, Karma-kun," laughed the person who was sitting on the other swing.

Karma gazed to the person―light blue hair that was styled in pigtails, now a radiant of yellow and blue caused by the dazzling sun's yellow ray, a placating smile across his fair complexion, feminine figure, and a black cat on his lap. This person was no doubt, his friend, Shiota Nagisa.

The redhead heaved out a sigh. "Yeah . . . Well, it's not like I don't like summer. It's just so annoyingly hot," he said.

Nagisa continued to stroke the black cat he had on his lap as the placating smile suddenly turned into a rueful one―it seemed . . . forced. The cat purred in pleasure as he said, "But, ah . . . I don't really like the summertime."

Karma blinked twice―this was new to him. Nagisa had never said to him the fact that he didn't like summer. He probably never said it to Kayano either. "Huh," he said, "Why is that?"

"Why, huh . . . " Nagisa mused, stopping his caresses on the cat. Karma waited―and after a few moments, Nagisa turned, but all he said was, "I wonder why. I don't know the reason either." He laughed mirthfully as he said that.

Right after the last word left Nagisa's mouth, the black cat hopped away from the bluenette's lap, startling the said boy. "Ah―Hey, wait!" Nagisa yelled as he left the swing, pursuing after the black cat. Letting out an sigh, Karma's features broke into an amused smile as he left the swing, slowly following Nagisa. The traffic light was blue, so it was fine, Karma thought.

The bluenette was still running as the black cat headed toward the middle of the street which was currently empty, despite the fact that it was summer. Cars ought to be here and there, because of summer holidays.

Or so Karma thought.

The traffic light had suddenly turned into a glaring red, and from the distance, he heard the sound of a truck making its way in a full speed. He saw Nagisa, still chasing after the cat, now right at the sidewalk. Karma's heart began to pound real hard when he realized that the cat had passed the street, leaving Nagisa who was still going after the cat.

The truck was still going in full speed, and it was getting closer and nearer. Red-golden orbs widened as he tried to warn the other boy, "NAGISA-KUN!"

Everything began to slow down for some reason, as if someone had added a slow-motion effect into his life. The truck was very close now, a few seconds until it hit his friend. Karma tried to run toward the bluenette―the latter seemed to notice his warning. Nagisa stopped his steps abruptly and turned around. For a split second, his face was a look of horror, and then―

A scream.

The black cement street had been tainted by a shade of red in the form of liquid. The scent of iron could be smelled in the air, choking the redhead. Karma's breath hitched when his gaze landed on a body of a certain bluenette, lying lifelessly on the ground. Almost everything he wore and had were painted in a shade of deep red―his white shirt, his green short, his fair skin, and his blue hair. If only the shade of red weren't Nagisa's own blood, Karma would say, "You look just like me now!"

The redhead ran toward the body frantically, pushing aside other people who'd been circling around the body. Tears were threatening to fall down at any moment, but Karma didn't care. He went to Nagisa's side and held him in his arms, yelling pointlessly, hoping that God would be kind enough to bring him back.

But the world was more cruel that you think it'd be.

And if it couldn't be anymore cruel, Karma noticed a very familiar figure standing in the middle of the crowd that were surrounding the scene.

It was himself, yet at the same time, completely different. The appearance was the total opposite; jet black hair, empty black eyes, white shirt, gray trousers. It was like the darkened version of him. And across his countenance, was a smug look.

He saw the black-haired him mouthing him something, and despite the cacophony, he managed to catch them.

"This is all real," was what he said.

And with that, like a cricket's sound being disturbed, the light blue of summer darkened away.

Golden-red orbs shot open to the sound of a ticking clock. Karma jolted upward, noticing his heavy breathing. Albeit the fact that his room had an air conditioner in it, he was drenched within his own sweat.

Karma pulled his phone from under the pillow and studied the lock screen. August 14th, 12:04 in the middle of the day. The redhead took a deep breath as he scanned his surrounding, trying to remember why he was acting this ineptly, feeling solicitous about something.

Then he remembered.

Right―that nightmare. That ghastly nightmare he had while he was asleep. Karma pressed his forehead with his thumb, as if trying to lessen the stress he had right now.
He then swung his feet around and left the bed, feeling the cold tiles with his feet. He then changed his clothes to cleaner pieces, the stench of his own sweat still remained in the air. Putting on a gray jacket, Karma left his house and made his way to the park, to where Nagisa was.

Once again, he found himself sitting on a swing, one hand holding the chain. Karma silently glanced at the other boy who was caressing a black cat in his lap merrily. He tugged his lips upward, frowning.

This park is the same park I saw in my dream . . .

The two of them spoke to each other for a while, talking about school and other things, but was cut off when the black cat suddenly hopped away from Nagisa's lap. Karma's insides were as if turned upside down, alarming him―reminding him of the dream. Not to mention the horrible feeling he was having.

"Ah, the cat―!" Nagisa began to pursue the cat, but stopped when Karma suddenly gripped his wrist tightly, stopping him. A look of disquietness came across the redhead's pallor features, but at the same time he still looked solemn.

Nagiss raised his brows, giving him a querying look. "What's wrong, Karma-kun?"
The taller male hung his head low so that his red bangs would hide the unusual look he had on his face. " . . . Let's just go home for now," he said after a while.

"Oh . . . Okay, then."

Karma almost allowed himself to let out a sigh of solace. He didn't, though, because doing that would only make the other boy suspicious. The bluenette's eyes were very attentive, after all.

Wrapped in an awkward silence, the two friends began to make their way back home. Karma was glancing around warrily―nothing bad so far. Even though he'd convinced himself that it was just a dream, he couldn't help being paranoid. So far so good, he thought to himself.

Then he saw a man, probably around thirty years old; a look of horror across his features as he pointed up to something. Other people around him began to stop their activities and looked up to where he was pointing at, and one of them―a girl who looked like a college student, tore the tranquility with her loud, horrified scream.

Karma looked up―and at that time, he realized that the man had been pointing at those iron poles that soon was going to fall and crush him to death.

"Ah―" Karma froze.

He was going to die.

The iron pole will pierce through him as though he was a piece of bread, and he will be dead in an instant. So that dream was a warning, after all. He should've been more caref―

A hand pushed him away from his death. The redhead stumbled away three or four steps, his breath caught. Hearing the metal's clangs as the iron poles clashed with the ground, Karma turned around, only to be greeted by a horrendous sight.

Like in his dream, everything began to slow down.

Karma could only watch as his friend, Shiota Nagisa, was being pierced and split in two by one of the iron poles. The wind chimed, and a loud scream of agony left Nagisa's lips. Those two things had filled the empty spaces between the park trees, and that was when Karma shouted Nagisa's name, as he ran after the bluenette.

Again, the color of red had painted the whole scenery. The smell of iron mingled with summer's hot air. The whimpers of the people around him. The black cat's glare.

The scene may be unnatural, but all the redhead cared was Nagisa. As Karma ran after his friend, he passed a certain someone. Someone very familiar. That person in his dream―the darkened version of himself, or the Heat Haze, he'd like to call it.

With a smug look, the Heat Haze whispered in his ear, "This isn't a dream."

As if the Heat Haze's words triggered it, Karma's vision began to blur away, as though he was being pulled into another dimension. He took a last glance at Nagisa, and swore that, despite the thick blood that was decorating the bluenette's petite form, Karma saw him smiling.

Karma woke up to the pang of pain welling up inside his chest. He didn't even bother to remember anything, for that he already remembered. Without thinking anything more further, Karma grabbed his jacket and ran to the park.

And as usual, Nagisa was there with a black cat on his lap. Noticing the redhead, Nagisa waved, "Hello, Karma-k―Eh, eh?! Karma-kun, what's wrong―?!"

The taller boy gripped the other's wrist tightly and pulled him, the black cat that was on his lap ran away, as he scurried off toward the opposite track of which they'd gone through in his dream. Nagisa bombared him frantically with questions, but Karma only replied with a "just be quiet and follow me."
But that wasn't a dream, nor a nightmare. Like what his darkened self said, this wasn't a dream. This was all real.

From what Karma knew, this was an occurence where a certain length of time, such as a few hours, or a few days, repeats over and over again. It was commonly used as a plot device in science fiction. The first time he heard it, Karma didn't believe it. But now that he was experiencing it for real, he knew that something as whimsical and quixotic as a time loop veritably exists.

Still holding Nagisa's wrist tightly, Karma brought him to an overpass. But as soon as Karma stepped the last stair, he stopped abruptly upon catching a sight of the Heat Haze leaning against the rail, a conceited look painting his features.

Karma caught his breath, and felt his grip suddenly empty. The color of blood flashed in the back of his eyes, and Karma looked past his shoulder―

And saw Nagisa, falling from the stairs with wide eyes.

"NAGISA-KUN―!"

The time loop had been going on for about a decade now, Karma realized. He sat on the same swing he'd been sitting on for the past ten years as he watched Nagisa cradling the same black cat he'd seen ten years ago.

The same black cat that brought misfortune upon them.

He'd also been seeing the same painting over and over again. A painting which consisted of Nagisa, and the shade of deep red. Blood.
He'd seen Nagisa fell from the overpass. He'd seen Nagisa being pierced by an iron pole. He'd seen Nagisa crushed by a truck. He'd seen Nagisa's throat slit. He'd seen Nagisa's build hanging by a rope. He'd seen Nagisa's head with a hole, made by a bullet. He'd seen many more heinous scenes, and it couldn't be count by only ten fingers. And in every scene, he would be there, mocking the redhead.

Like always, the black cat jumped away from Nagisa's lap, and he chased after it. Karma watched as the cat led him to the middle of the road. Golden-red hues glanced at the traffic light―blue.

Karma stood up and ran after Nagisa. At any time now, the traffic light would turn into a conspicuous red, and a truck would came out of nowhere in a high speed. And in this kind of clichéd story, there must only be one ending. Beyond this repeating summer day, it has to exist.

Hearing the sound of the truck's engine coming closer, Karma stepped out from the pathway and everything seemed to slow down again, like it always does in every loop.
As soon as the traffic light flipped into a glaring red, the redhead pushed away Nagisa aside from the middle of the road, and the next thing he knew, he was flying through the air, feeling an excruciating pain creeping along his body.

His sight decorated in his own blood, Karma saw Nagisa wearing a petrified look across his features. Then he saw him scream, calling Karma's name albeit knew that he won't reply. His blue orbs and Karma's twisted body were like hazy reflections of blood that sprayed everywhere.

As Karma's vision began to blur, he caught a sight of the Heat Haze, shooting Karma an incredulous look. Carving up a haughty smile upon his visage, Karma said, "Serves you right."

Right before his consciousness slipped away, Karma took a last glance at Nagisa―and swore that, even though faintly, he saw another version of his friend right beside his crying figure.

Nagisa's Heat Haze, he assumed.

And then, he saw a deep, endless abyss.

It was August 14th, sometime after 12 o'clock.

Just woke up from his sleep, Nagisa sat on his bed as he slumped weakly against the wall, cradling a sleeping white cat on his lap. Tears stained his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy.

Several words left his lips, "I failed this time, too . . . "

Then, an ominous laugh in his ear.