16 The Day of Final Confrontation 3

"……I’m about to say something terrible."

"Ah."

"I want you to save Mio. But that’s not about how she is."

As if exposing her own ugly self.

Shirley speaks, her face twisted.

"I don’t want Reina to be by Jin’s side."

The emotion Shirley shows Jin directly is jealousy.

"Because if Reina’s there, Jin will only ever look at her. Even now, when she’s not here, he’s still staring at her. If she comes closer, there’s no chance for me, is there?"

"Shirley……"

Ah, Jin thinks again.

Because he can’t let go of Reina, there’s another person here who’s hurt.

But he can’t forget.

The regret remains, deep inside, forever.

The symbol of it still rests against his chest.

A wedding band melted and warped—ticket to happiness never delivered.

Even if it had been handed over, nothing would change.

One ring cannot overturn the end of a command.

Feeling Mio’s growth beside him.

At the same time, Jin was forcefully reminded that his own time had stopped.

He thought he had broken free.

But nothing had truly been severed.

Certainly, within Jin, there were parts that had accepted new days, changed.

But at the core, nothing had been understood.

At the fundamental level, Jin remained frozen in place—exactly where he had been that day.

"Hey, Jin… what am I to you? A friend? A convenient woman? A substitute mother for Mio-chan?"

Now, perhaps only now. After eight years of silence, Sharon finally confronts him.

"Actually, it doesn’t matter to me right now. But tell me… will the day come when it changes?"

For eight years, a stable relationship has been maintained.

Put differently, that is all.

The relationship, already stable eight years prior, has undergone no change.

Sharon said.

Even if it takes ten years, I’ll sever this connection.

Yet, by the eighth year, it was forced upon her again.

Jin’s core has not changed.

It remains frozen in time, as it was ten years ago.

“No… it’s fine if our relationship doesn’t change”

Sharon’s eyes looked into Jin’s.

The hue within them wavered—solely concerned with Jin.

“Can Jin change?”

To live is to change, in some measure or another.

But if one refuses, stubbornly, to change from the past, is that not the same as death?

In this world, nothing truly immutable exists except what has reached its end.

Jin had realized, years ago.

Jin's story ended ten years ago.

The ending was utterly consumed by fire.

Now only ash remains.

"…Probably impossible, then."

He cannot change.

No— he does not wish to change.

Now, he is nothing but the sole remnant connecting him to someone who once existed.

His current self is deeply shaped by Rei's influence.

He is undeniably different from who he was before meeting her.

If he were to change now, he fears Rei would vanish from within him.

That is why he does not wish to change.

Recognizing this only intensified his resistance to the passage of time within him.

"…Idiot."

Sharon sheds tears.

Not because her feelings went unacknowledged.

Because she finally understood— Jin intends to carry Rei until his death, rejecting everything else with increasing detachment.

Because she finally understood he would continue bearing that solitude.

"You really can't change Jin, can you?"

"I'm sorry..."

"There's no need to apologize. I'm just frustrated."

But then, Shirley wipes her tears.

"I won't give up. I've grown tired of giving up eight years ago."

"Even I shouldn't say this..."

No— it's not something Jin should ever say. Something Jin absolutely must never say.

"What makes me so special, then?"

"I don't know... many things, I suppose."

An unexpectedly vague reply leaves Jin slightly confused.

But the next words he hears make him nod in quiet understanding.

"If I asked you to name what you like about Rei, would it come to mind right away?"

"...Yeah. You're right."

Indeed, many things.

And that was—

"I do too."

"Uh?"

"If someone asked me to name what I like about you, I'd say many things."

Jin didn’t hate Shirley, not at all.

No—there had been a time, unmistakably, when she had been the most important to him.

He couldn’t hate a partner who had supported him both publicly and privately for so long.

No pretense. No deception. Only truth.

“...It’s because you feed me occasionally that it’s hard to handle.”

As she spoke, Shirley seized Jin’s cheek and pressed her lips to his.

Savoring the sensation after more than a decade. Holding it for perhaps thirty seconds.

He could have pulled away.

He could have torn her away.

But Jin chose neither.

Still, he recognized that something within him had not changed.

He truly didn’t understand.

Jin always realized the value of something only after losing it.

How much Shirley meant to him now.

He couldn’t know that himself.

And yet, even knowing, Shirley spoke.

“This is a burden.”

Sharon spoke thus of her current actions.

“To pull Jin back toward us, even just a little, when he wavers. Even the weight of a single feather could shift the balance.”

To nudge Jin’s decision—still swaying between Mio and Rei—ever so slightly toward their side.

Sharon said it.

“A counterweight, is it?”

Yes. That was it. Jin realized, belatedly.

It was not only Rei and Mio on the scale.

Also balanced were the ten years that might have been with Rei, and the ten years that had already passed.

And within that balance, the present relationship with Sharon was included.

“That’s right. A counterweight. Didn’t you know? I’m a heavy woman.”

She said it with a smile, her eyes glistening with tears.

Jin had no words to return.

No, he could not speak.

What could be said by a Jin still unable to reach a conclusion?

“Even so… if you choose Rei-san… I’m asking you. If it comes to that, please speak to me. I think I’ll be crying for a long time.”

Those words struck deeply at Jin.

He understood now—choosing Rei meant the inevitable collapse of his relationship with Sharon.

Even though he knew he had no right to speak, Sharon pressed her lips against his again, silencing the words he had begun to utter.

“If…”

She pulled back slightly, murmuring.

“What if I hadn’t ended things that day? Where would we be now?”

“…I don’t know.”

That was Jin’s honest answer—hard to imagine. Sharon likely felt the same.

If they had continued as lovers.

Would they have married?

Back then, without any accident, peacefully…?

He wondered whether he would have found a reason to fight.

But perhaps…

A child born as it was.

Perhaps, at the moment he had someone he wished to protect behind him, Jin might have changed.

"Perhaps Harold’s project is meant to fulfill such 'what ifs'... I might just go along if invited right now."

"The only ones who can truly reject him are those with no regrets in their own lives."

The very reason he is trying to destroy the Laitera Project now is because the past alterations were orchestrated by Harold.

If he himself had been in charge, undoubtedly many would have eagerly joined the project.

Or perhaps this entire conflict is merely a prelude to a greater struggle over control.

"But humans grow accustomed to it. Even if one believes they are only changing one major regret, the limits will soon disappear."

Eventually, they will start rewriting even the smallest details of the past. In extreme cases, they might redo things out of mere curiosity. They might erase criminal acts entirely.

The prospect of such technology becoming widespread is terrifying to imagine.

Each individual, driven by their own desires, would reshape the world at will.

Under such conditions, a functional society seemed impossible to maintain.

Thus, the technology remains concealed.

Only a select few will guide the world.

"I oppose Harold's plan, even without considering Miss Rei. Please remember that."

"I... I know that in my mind. But—"

Even Jin could envision that future.

Still, he believed such technology should never be in human hands.

In a sense, it is the most efficient device for bringing an end to intelligent civilization.

A self-imposed path to extinction—stepping willingly into a dead end.

It requires only the first step.

And that first step is something everyone already desires—making it fundamentally flawed.

The pardon of a single instance binds one like an addiction—easy to imagine, and Jin himself is bound by it.

"……I’m going."

No answer comes.

Jin moves through the battlefield, hesitation still in his steps.

He understands only ruin awaits beyond this point.