2026-04-08 10:34:11The atmosphere in the apartment that morning felt like a battlefield where a fragile ceasefire had just been signed. Raka sat in front of his laptop, making a half-hearted attempt to focus on a logo design that now felt incredibly dull. His eyes, however, kept drifting toward Luna. She sat on the sofa, expertly navigating a small silver device that hovered in mid-air.
The watch on Luna’s wrist was no longer flashing red, but the numbers were still cruelly ticking down. 31:11:05:12. Every passing second felt like the steady drip of a leaky faucet on Raka’s forehead, a constant reminder that this woman’s presence here came with an expiration date he didn't fully understand.
Stop staring at me like I’m a ticking time bomb, Luna said, her voice cutting through the silence without her even looking away from her hologram.
I was just... thinking about that Tragedy you mentioned last night, Raka admitted, swiveling his chair to face her. If you say my touch accelerates the timeline, why don’t you just go back to your own time? If staying here only makes things worse, what’s the point?
Luna paused. She looked at Raka with an expression that was hard to read—a complex mix of resentment and longing, carefully hidden behind her icy exterior.
Because in my future, everything is already over, Raka. There’s nothing left but the wreckage of what we used to call home. Luna stood up, walked to Raka’s rickety wardrobe, and pulled out one of his old leather jackets. My goal isn't to save my future. My goal is to make sure that future never exists. And for that to happen, you need to understand the pain you caused me. Including the sting of betrayal.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A rhythmic, elegant knock echoed from the door. It wasn't the frantic pounding of a debt collector or a rushed delivery guy. Raka frowned. Who is it now? Did you call the cops on me?
The second simulation begins, Luna said flatly. She walked toward the door, and her entire demeanor shifted. Her shoulders relaxed, and the stiffness in her face melted into a soft, glowing smile that looked... deeply in love.
When the door opened, a man stood there. He was about the same height as Raka, but that’s where the similarities ended. He wore a tailored casual suit that fit his athletic frame perfectly. His hair was impeccably styled, and his scent—damn it, Raka thought—he smelled like a mix of sandalwood and success.
Luna, sweetheart. Are you ready? the man asked in a deep, soothing voice.
Raka’s jaw dropped. Sweetheart? Wait, who the hell are you, man? You can’t just walk into my apartment!
The man turned to Raka, offering a friendly smile that felt patronizing. Ah, you must be Raka. Luna told me so much about you. She mentioned you were... an old friend going through a rough patch?
Luna slid her arm through the man’s, a gesture that made Raka’s chest tighten as if a heavy weight had been dropped on it. Raka, meet Adrian. He’s the man I should have chosen ten years ago instead of you.
Adrian extended a hand. Good to meet you, Raka.
Raka didn't take it. Instead, he stared at Luna in disbelief. What is this, Luna? This is your simulation? You bring some guy to my house—okay, my apartment—and rub it in my face?
This isn't just for show, Luna shot back, her tone turning sharp. In the future, you cheated on me for three years with your secretary. You brought the scent of her perfume into our bed, and when I asked about it, you told me I was crazy and possessive. Now, feel what it’s like to watch the person who is supposed to be yours give their attention to someone else.
Adrian pulled Luna closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. Let’s go, Luna. Our lunch reservation is waiting.
Raka felt his blood boil. He knew this was a simulation. He knew Adrian was likely a solid hologram or some actor Luna had recruited from the future. But seeing Adrian’s hand on Luna’s waist, seeing the way Luna looked at him with a warmth she never showed Raka, triggered something primal inside him.
No! You’re not going anywhere! Raka stepped forward, reaching out to pull Luna away from Adrian.
But before he could touch her, Adrian caught Raka’s wrist with lightning speed. His grip was like steel, making Raka wince.
Don't be rough with her, Raka, Adrian said, his polite smile never wavering. Isn’t that what you do in the future? Act out because you feel like you’ve lost control?
Get off me, you prick! Raka wrenched his arm away. He glared at Luna, his eyes stinging with anger and a feeling he didn't want to admit: jealousy. This is insane! You say you want me to be a better person, but you’re just torturing me? You think this is going to make me change?
Luna stepped away from Adrian and moved toward Raka until they were inches apart. For a brief moment, her mask cracked. Raka could see a deep, hollow ache in her eyes—an ocean of sorrow he had apparently created in a future he hadn't lived yet.
The pain you’re feeling right now is nothing compared to how I felt when I found those hotel photos, Raka, she whispered, her voice trembling but sharp. You know what hurt the most? It wasn't the affair. It was the way you made me feel like I was the reason you left. You destroyed my self-worth until I felt unlovable. So, look at Adrian. He’s a reminder that I had other choices, but I chose you anyway. And you threw it all away.
Luna turned and walked out with Adrian, leaving Raka alone in an apartment that suddenly felt ten times quieter.
Raka kicked his desk chair, sending it toppling over. Dammit! Hell! he screamed at the empty walls.
He slumped onto the floor, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His mind was a mess. He hated the way Adrian touched her. He hated the way she looked at him. But most of all, he hated the fact that in some other timeline, he really was the piece of work she described.
Hours passed. Raka couldn't work. He just sat there staring at the door, waiting for her to return. As the sun began to set, casting a gloomy orange hue over the city, the door finally opened.
Luna walked in alone. Adrian was nowhere to be seen. She looked exhausted, her face even paler than before. The watch on her wrist was blinking yellow, a sign that the synchronization was becoming unstable.
Where is... that guy? Raka asked, his voice hoarse.
Adrian has returned to his timeline, Luna replied curtly. She walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, but her hands were shaking so violently that she dropped the plastic cup.
Raka instinctively stood up to help. Luna, are you okay?
Stay back! Luna snapped, her voice cracking. She leaned against the counter, trying to catch her breath. I told you... every time your emotions flare up because of me, whether it’s anger or jealousy... it shortens my time here.
Raka froze. So... jealousy counts as one of those feelings? I’m not allowed to care about you?
Luna looked up at the ceiling, her eyes glassy. Jealousy comes from a sense of belonging. Belonging comes from attraction. And attraction is the seed of what destroys us both. You shouldn't have felt anything while I was with Adrian. You should have been cold and apathetic, just like the man you become.
But I’m not him! Raka shouted in frustration. I’m the Raka who's here right now!
Raka, the guy who still eats instant noodles every day and doesn't even own a decent suit! Why are you punishing me for sins I hasn't even committed yet?
Luna turned slowly, a single tear finally tracing a path down her cheek. Because if I don’t punish you now, you’ll never understand the cost. You think success comes for free? It costs you your soul, Raka. And I’m here to make sure that price is more than you can ever afford to pay.
Luna swayed as she moved toward the bed, but her legs gave out before she could reach it. Ignoring her earlier warnings, Raka lunged forward, catching her just before she hit the floor.
The moment their skin touched, a violent jolt surged through Raka. He wasn't just seeing flashes of memory anymore; he was living them. He felt the biting chill of the rain from the night his future self abandoned her on the side of the road after a screaming match. He felt the hollow ache in her chest as she sat alone on their anniversary, staring at a dinner table full of cold food.
Most devastating of all, he felt the lingering embers of the love she still carried for him—a love so profound she was willing to tear through time and space, hurting herself just to change the man he would become.
Let me go... Luna whispered, her voice fading in his arms.
No, Raka whispered, pulling her closer even as his heart hammered against his ribs, terrified by the shifting reality around them. I’m not going to be that guy, Luna. I promise. I’ll make up for every ounce of happiness you lost, but not like this.
On Luna’s wrist, the glowing red numbers suddenly plummeted, as if time itself were being violently siphoned away. 28:05:14:59.
They had just lost three days in a single second of contact. And outside, in the dim shadows of the apartment hallway, a dark silhouette began to manifest—something that didn't belong in this timeline. It was something sent from the future to ensure that destiny remained on its predetermined track.
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Chapter 12: Memory Fragmentation
The violet light that had filled the room didn't so much fade as it was sucked back into a singular point on Luna’s wrist, leaving behind a silence so heavy it felt physical. The air tasted of ozone and burnt copper, the acrid scent of a short-circuited reality. Raka stood frozen, his hand still clutching the crinkled photograph of a future he had inadvertently helped build. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, a frantic rhythm that matched the erratic flickering of the single overhead bulb."Luna?" Raka’s voice was a ragged whisper. She was sprawled on the floor, her body unnervingly still. The expensive trench coat she had arrived in was scorched at the hems, and her skin—usually the color of pale porcelain—now possessed a terrifying translucency. He could almost see the faint, glowing lattice of blue veins beneath her temples, pulsing with a light that shouldn't exist in human biology.Raka scrambled across the debris of his shattered life, his knees hitting th
Chapter 11: Remnants of Humanity
The two hundred million rupiahs sitting in Raka’s bank account felt less like a windfall and more like a bag of lead tied around his neck. Every time his phone vibrated with a notification, he didn't see numbers; he saw the face of the old man in the tattered clothes, his eyes wide with a terror so primal it felt as if Raka had already reached through time and snatched the breath from his lungs."Stop it, Raka," Luna’s voice cut through the humid afternoon air, sharp as a glass shard. She was leaning against the cool marble of a storefront, her arms crossed, watching him with a detached, clinical intensity. "You’re spiraling over a ghost. He’s gone.""He isn't a ghost!" Raka snapped, his chest heaving as he loosened the tie that felt like a noose. "You heard him, Luna. He called me 'Honorable Mr. Raka.' He begged me not to tear down his home. That man isn't from my past—he’s a casualty of the man you’re trying to prevent me from becoming. And I just let him run away!"Without waiting
Chapter 10: The Price of a Cold Victory
That morning, it wasn’t the sunlight that roused Raka, but the sharp, rhythmic pulse of pain at the tip of his finger. He opened his eyes to find a pristine white bandage wrapped around the wound—far too meticulous to be his own handiwork. He glanced at the empty side of the bed; Luna was already gone. The apartment was deathly quiet, though the atmosphere had shifted. The lingering stench of neglected trash had been purged, replaced by the sterile scent of disinfectant and the heavy, bitter aroma of dark coffee. Raka sat on the edge of the mattress, staring at his bandaged hand. The memories of the previous night came flooding back: the shattered remains of his mother’s glass, and the raw, suffocating urge he’d felt to scream in Luna’s face.Stop staring at that bandage as if it’s a medal of honor, Luna’s voice drifted from the direction of the desk.Raka turned. She was sitting there, clad in a sharp, formal charcoal-gray blazer, her hair pulled back into a severe, polished style. T
Chapter 9: The Curriculum of Hate and the Fracturing of Hope
The silence in the apartment this morning felt like a dull blade being dragged slowly across skin. The warm aroma of fried rice was gone, replaced by the stinging, sterile odor of chemical cleaners. It felt as though Luna were trying to scrub away every lingering trace of humanity from the room.Raka sat on the edge of his seat, watching Luna’s rigid silhouette against the window. She hadn't looked at him once since they returned from the park. The clock on her wrist had stopped its frantic blinking, now settled on a chilling 12:15:30:45. They had gained fifteen hours, but the cost was an atmosphere so thick it was suffocating.Luna, Raka said, his voice a dry rasp. We don’t have to do this. There has to be another way besides making me despise you.Luna turned slowly. Her eyes, which had briefly flickered with warmth the night before, were once again two impenetrable blocks of ice. She held a thick red folder—some relic summoned from her future.Another way? She let out a short, acer
Chapter 8: A Date on the Brink of Ruin
The morning light filtered through the cracks in the tattered curtains, casting long golden streaks across the floor of Raka’s apartment. The place felt wider now, not because the square footage had changed, but because Raka had finally started clearing out the towers of instant noodle cups and moldy design magazines. He realized that if he wanted to fix his heart, he had to start with the space he lived in.In the corner of the room, Luna was still fast asleep. It was the first time Raka had seen her sleep past her usual hour. She was curled into a small ball, arms wrapped tightly around a flattened pillow. Her face, usually so guarded and masked in secrets, looked remarkably innocent, though the deep circles under her eyes betrayed a hidden exhaustion. Raka approached her with feather-light steps, practically holding his breath. He caught a glimpse of the watch on her wrist, which lay resting against the blanket. 22:11:55:00. The numbers were motionless. Static.Is that a good sign
Chapter 7: Past Baggage and the Cracked Mirror
The pungent aroma of dark roast coffee cut through the air, overpowering the familiar scent of dust and old paper that usually clung to Raka’s studio apartment. This morning felt different. There was no aggressive pounding on the door, no water splashed over his laptop. Instead, there was only a gentler, more inviting silence, punctuated by the soft clink of a silver spoon against porcelain.Luna sat perched on the windowsill, the morning sun highlighting her sharp yet achingly soft features. She had swapped her usual attire for something more contemporary—a black turtleneck and tailored trousers that gave her the effortless air of a successful architect on a weekend break. On her wrist, the crimson digits of the timer continued their steady, relentless countdown: 22:11:45:02.Raka took a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes still a bit puffy from sleep. Did you make this?Luna turned her head slowly. I used the beans you kept on the top shelf. They were nearly expired, but they still had
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