The cycle begins to repeat itself today.

When Today Begins the Cycle of Repetition (Author: Mao Chisaki)

When I woke up, I found that today was just another ordinary day. I thought I could move towards the future according to my established plans, but reality gave me a hard punch.

I don't understand the cause, nor how it will end, and I haven't found any clues... My days begin to repeat endlessly.

I dug up every single thing around me, and the darkness seemed to deepen the closer the person was to me. I fell asleep filled with fear and unease. When I woke up, I found that today was just another ordinary day.

Chapter One: An Ordinary Day

Does anyone know a way to go back in time?

I tried searching for the answer to this question online, but no matter what I got, the result was the same as what my own attempts told me: going back to the past is impossible.

More rigorous scientists won't use absolute statements to deny it, but based on the various theories, hypotheses, or premises they offer, going back to the past remains impossible. Most people, however, who aren't so rigorous, will laugh at you and kindly tell you that dreaming is more realistic.

Humans cannot go back to the past, not even for a single second. I realized this when I was very young. As long as a person is alive, they are always moving forward, whether they are awake, sleeping, standing, sitting, or lying down... No matter what, a person is always moving towards the future.

In other words, even if you do nothing, you are still moving towards the future. If a person's life is finite, then the future will only become less and less, while the past will only become more and more. Perhaps it is precisely because we cannot go back to the past that so many people reminisce about it—using the future that is constantly transforming into the past.

Humans cannot go back to the past. If a person could return to the past with their memories, how could that past be considered their past? It would merely be a sudden alteration of a part of the future. And if one doesn't bring their memories—the film of their life has already been recorded, so how can they change what is already destined to happen?

After realizing this, I underwent a slight change. It wasn't that I gained some incredible power, or that something that wasn't mine suddenly appeared in my mind. On the contrary, I realized that I seemed to have lost something. As I grew up stepping into the future, I understood that I had lost effort, hope, dreams, passion, or what we collectively call ambition.

Why? Perhaps it's because they suddenly realized the future was right before their eyes, within reach, and they lost their sense of awe towards it. There could be other reasons, but I don't know the rest.

I'm well aware of my own and those around me's abnormality, but I have no intention of deliberately changing anything. After all, my so-called junior high classmates won't practice anymore after junior high graduation, and high school, which is only one year long, will probably be the same, right? Perhaps my university life, which might follow, will be the same. Although I don't have any specific goals, I'll still attend classes and try to absorb as much information as possible. However, I'm not entirely sure what determines that amount.

Today was probably just like any other day, almost exactly the same as before. I got out of bed, washed my face and brushed my teeth, then rushed out the door just as dawn was breaking. I bought something to eat on the way and walked to school. When I got to the classroom, there were still about ten minutes before morning reading started. Then I stayed at school until evening self-study ended and went home. At home, I casually played on my phone for a while, and that was the end of the day.

I can even imagine some of the less easily changed details, down to the last detail. My biological clock even allows my body to react precisely on time; the repetitive nature of my life has even been memorized by my body.

I entered the classroom precisely at 6:50 and took my seat. My seat was by the window; since seats were assigned based on academic performance, there was virtually no way to change it myself. My deskmate was a girl who seemed rather unreliable to me, although her grades weren't bad; she sat next to me.

Her name… I don’t remember it, but I might remember it if the teacher calls her name. But it doesn’t matter, I don’t need to remember the name of someone I don’t know. Although we’ve barely spoken, I have a pretty good impression of her.

My grades have been quite stable, and I've been in this position for about a month now, through at least four joint exams, and I've consistently managed to stay in this spot. My deskmate has changed several times, but she's definitely the one I'm most satisfied with.

She always entered the classroom close to the start of class, and then started preparing to leave her seat in the last few minutes before the end of get out of class. If it weren't for the fact that she was always like this and had been criticized by the teacher many times, I would have almost thought that she simply disliked me and didn't want to stay in that seat at all. Although, actually, it wouldn't have mattered.

My previous deskmates were either late and slow to leave, or early and fast to leave, or both early and slow to leave—four completely different choices. As for my current deskmate, who poses no obstacle to my actions, I have no reason to be dissatisfied with her.

Today, she appeared at the classroom door just seconds before the bell rang. Although she wasn't strictly late, our class's average grades seemed to be decent compared to the rest of the grade, so the teacher had higher expectations for us. She would usually arrive at the classroom 10 to 5 minutes early to check attendance. My deskmate, who arrived right on time, would naturally get a scolding, but it wouldn't be a big deal.

I ignored them and put my own book on the table, pretending to read. I had no interest in morning reading; the so-called golden time meant nothing to me. I could only learn something when I felt I could concentrate on the reading, but my teachers didn't know that, and even if they did, they wouldn't understand. Even if they did understand, they would make me continue doing these meaningless things. So I usually chose not to tell them and pretended to read, and then... spaced out.

After all, I don't have much else to do. The risks and rewards of playing on my phone during class are clearly disproportionate, and I don't like taking that risk. Daydreaming is actually quite nice; occasionally snapping out of my reverie and hearing the teacher talking about something I can understand can actually help me learn something.

And it won't be too boring. Even if it were, I've already spent countless days and nights like this, so what does a little boredom matter to me?

However, things seem slightly different today.

"Um, that..." My deskmate, the girl I had a fairly good impression of, spoke to me. I was slightly surprised, but my expression, which hadn't changed much over the years, allowed me to maintain my facade.

"What's the date today? I forgot my phone."

She asked me a question.

Chapter Two: Some Unexpected Changes

What's the date today?

She asked me this question, and I knew the answer.

Actually, a little calculation makes it easy to find the answer. The National College Entrance Examination (Gaokao) is usually in early June, followed by a period of classes until mid-July, after which summer vacation begins. Presumably to increase class time, the school set the end of summer vacation in mid-August. Now it's been a month since classes started, which is mid-September. The day before yesterday was the day our teachers, disregarding their own holiday, scheduled an exam for us, so today can only be June 12th.

I was skeptical of her question; a Teacher's Day exam shouldn't be something easily forgotten. However, she had made a good impression on me, and I didn't mind giving her the answer she wanted. Besides, this was probably the second time she'd spoken to me, and I admired her courage.

June 12th.

"Oh!"

She looked much more energetic.

"If I remember correctly, it should be today."

I had no idea what she was talking about. If it was a holiday, besides the Teacher's Day which just passed and had nothing to do with holidays, there was only the Mid-Autumn Festival three days later. But I would definitely make up for that three-day break next weekend. If I could, I wouldn't really want those three days off. Two weeks of classes in a row, and in my senior year of high school no less, that would be stressful enough for any high school student.

However, whatever she wanted to do was probably no longer my concern, so I turned away and continued to daydream. She didn't bother me again, and everything returned to the same routine as before.

Today's classes were a bit boring; the whole morning was spent going over the exam papers from the senior high school joint exam a few days ago. This was true for both Chinese and math. It'll probably be the same in the afternoon and evening as well. As for the non-academic classes on the schedule… they're just there to pass inspections. There's probably no easier job than being a high school PE teacher or art teacher, right?

Lunch is also easily eaten in the school cafeteria. Although I've been eating there for two years and the taste hasn't changed much, there's not much else to do. I could eat out outside the school, but firstly, that would be too much trouble, and secondly, it's really not worth it for one person to go out to eat alone.

I don't ask for much. As long as the food doesn't starve me and I can swallow it, that's enough for me.

The afternoon classes were English and Geography. To my surprise, the English class didn't go over the joint entrance exam paper. Instead, everyone was given a new test paper and we had to take it again. The exam should have taken longer, but the English teacher had already made cuts, removing the listening and writing sections. With a little effort, we could finish it, especially since we had already done the test paper before.

However, most people probably don't have the habit of re-organizing their test papers, and I am one of them. In my opinion, the actions of English teachers are basically meaningless, but teachers are always happy to do such things, and they usually try to find different ways to torment people.

This approach might have minimal effect, but as long as it works, they never mind that the results are small. The goal is simply to continuously increase the quantity until a qualitative change occurs.

The subsequent geography class was no different from before; they were discussing the joint entrance exam papers.

After spending about two years learning the textbook knowledge required for three years, there is nothing else to do in the senior year of high school except for exams and explaining test papers repeatedly.

I ate the same thing for dinner, and the only thing I could change up was my drinks. Although I mostly drink bottled water, whether it's cheap or not, I'm not that frugal. It's just that I have a lot of bottled water, so I just grab it whenever I want, and I've gotten used to it over time.

Evening self-study sessions were all for Chinese, and from the start of senior year, every evening from weekend to Friday was occupied by self-study sessions for other subjects. Yesterday it was math, today it was Chinese, and tomorrow it will be English. Only after these three main subjects would the three integrated subjects be given. Although it was called self-study, there was practically no self-study; it was mostly just doing practice tests and exercises. In my first and second years of high school, I could at least listen to the textbook content, but in my senior year, it almost completely disappeared.

Today was another day that required writing. Unlike the daytime, the evening self-study session was more than enough time to complete a Chinese language test, let alone a comprehensive humanities test, especially since it started half an hour early. The remaining hour was used to go through the entire test from beginning to end. In this respect, the high school teacher's professional competence is even superior to that of university professors.

Today was another tiring but familiar day. I slowly packed my bag, while my deskmate left all her things on the desk, stood up from her seat, and walked out of the classroom with a look of great anticipation. She probably has plans with someone later?

While this behavior is certainly not good, it's understandable to me. The mental pressure of high school is immense. If you can manage it, that's fine; but if you can't… how many graduating students over the years have succumbed to the pressure and chosen to end their lives before the college entrance exam?

Since there is pressure, corresponding coping methods will naturally emerge. Apart from some officially permitted and recommended methods that are not very effective, it is not surprising that some people choose to have early romantic relationships, and this is indeed not a rare thing in high school.

But so what? I did feel some pressure, but my expectations of myself weren't that heavy. Although my parents also had expectations of me, I would only respond to them as best I could within my own limits. Compared to others, my pressure was unbelievably small.

How much pressure others are under, and what methods they choose to relieve it, is none of my business. I just need to do my own thing and live naturally with time.

I walked towards the school gate. Under the veil of darkness, a vast number of people were walking, even running, in the opposite direction from me. I didn't know what they wanted to do; it was none of my business.

I continued walking out of the school.

Chapter Three: Familiar Daily Life

Evening self-study ended at 10 PM. During that time, it took me about ten minutes to walk from school back home. I unlocked the door with my key; the house was fairly well-lit. No one in my family has a habit of going to bed early. My younger sister is probably the last to go to bed; my parents and I go to bed at the same time. My sister likes to play on her phone in bed. However, she doesn't sleep in class or have bad grades, so my parents don't really care.

I think she's already made up her mind about her life, so I don't really want to interfere. However, she's much more well-behaved than other girls I know, and I'm truly grateful for that. My parents probably also prefer my younger sister, who's better than me in both grades and personality.

"came back?"

I nodded. It seemed she just happened to be passing by the entryway today. Our house layout is such that the entryway leads directly from the front door to the dining room and kitchen. On either side of the entryway are the study and my bedroom. The dining room connects to the living room, kitchen, my sister's bedroom, my parents' bedroom, and the bathroom. The balcony is on the other side of the living room. Given her commute between the living room and her own bedroom, it wouldn't be surprising if she appeared in the entryway.

I didn't pay much attention to her. Although we're siblings, in most families, the relationship between siblings isn't always as good as the relationship with one's own friends or classmates. Of course, I'm definitely an exception. I don't have any close friends or classmates. Besides my parents, my sister is probably the person I'm closest to.

Perhaps this is true even if I don't exclude my parents.

At least my sister has gotten used to my presence, which is actually quite good; there won't be any major problems.

I greeted my parents and went back to my bedroom. It was still summer, and the weather was very hot, even past ten o'clock at night. I put on my pajamas and prepared to take a shower. As soon as I stepped out of the dormitory, I saw my younger sister, who was about to do the same thing I was thinking.

"Oh, are you going to take a shower too?"

"You go first."

I don't care about these things. I just take a shower to make myself feel a little more comfortable, so it's okay to shower later.

"Great."

She didn't stand on ceremony with me, and went into the bathroom in her pajamas. I went back to my room, since I had nowhere to shower and nothing else to do until she came out.

Although I don't know why she, a middle school student, didn't shower when she got home from school earlier than me, but waited until I came back to shower, it's none of my business. Such an inconvenience isn't enough to make me feel unhappy.

Since entering the senior year of high school, there has actually been less homework. A large number of test papers have completely replaced homework, and since evening self-study sessions last until 10 p.m. every day, there is no room left for doing homework. So this project was naturally canceled.

I glanced at my phone; it had a pretty complete set of apps—social media, mobile games, novel readers, video players, you name it. But I didn't need any of those things; they were all installed on my sister's phone.

She's a bit of a phone addict; if she has nothing to do, she often spends the whole day glued to her phone. Sometimes, when her phone runs out of battery, she doesn't like to play while charging, so she'll borrow my phone. And I don't mind lending it to her. This phone is more hers than mine.

Its only use for me is probably as a memo pad, a weather forecast machine, and a tool to contact my parents and sister—things I don't use much in my daily life. But that doesn't mean I don't like it.

This phone was a birthday gift from my parents a few years ago when I first started high school. Partly it was to make it easier to stay in touch, and partly it was a hope that I would change a little. Although it wasn't very expensive, I still liked it. However, liking it is one thing, but I still disappointed them. Two years of high school have passed, and I only have three phone numbers stored in my phone.

Since starting high school, although they haven't said it explicitly, I can see from their increasingly indifferent eyes that their expectations of me are steadily decreasing. But that's actually for the best. Anyway, I can't meet their expectations of me, and my tone only leads to their disappointment after they've had those expectations. It's better to let this whole thing never happen in the first place.

I checked the weather forecast for tomorrow, and it's unusually cloudy and rainy. It's probably because it's been so hot lately, or something else. I think we've already covered this in geography class, but I haven't studied it properly.

At least I know I need to bring an umbrella tomorrow, so it's not a complete waste of time.

My sister came out of the bathroom and came to my bedroom door. I didn't close the door, and she stood there and said to me, "I'm done showering, but it seems quite hot in there. You can shower in a few minutes."

"I see."

I responded to her like that, and noticed that she was radiating a little heat, and the ends of her hair were even dripping water.

"Your hair isn't dry yet."

"The hairdryer gets too hot, I don't really want to use it."

He said something capricious.

Although hair dryers have buttons that turn the hot air to a relatively cooler setting, it's still quite hot in the summer. However, letting your hair stay wet and wait for it to dry on its own still greatly increases the chances of getting sick.

"It's better to blow on it."

I offered some suggestions, but whether she listens or not is not up to me; it all depends on her own mood.

She touched her chin with her fingers and hummed for a while.

"Ok."

She turned and walked towards the bathroom. It seems she was in a pretty good mood today.