I saved everyone.
I really did. I rushed into the flames, stood against the monsters, repaired time, and protected the universe.
But they asked me, "Why did you arrive too late?"
"Why didn't you save everyone?"
"Why don't you just die?"
Monster scales have grown over my left arm, and the fingertips of my right hand are turning transparent. Every time I repair time, I become a little less human. They don't care. They just need someone they can hate.
Later, I pressed that button.
I traded all my memories to keep them alive.
Now I'm just a night-shift clerk at a convenience store. I don't remember Zero, Zoffy, or the child who gave me candy. Only my left hand still aches on rainy days, as if missing someone who never existed.
They say, "He's so strong. Why doesn't he keep protecting us?"
I said nothing.
Because I've already forgotten why I was crying.
