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The end.

Why has it come to this?

It\'s a question I have asked myself untold times, yet one that pertains no answer.

A question that has, perhaps quite naturally, caused many further wonders to bud and to sprout throughout the years―also without remedy, nor with reprieve.

Zack, Zachary, or Azaki is what those close to me call me by.

As for others, it\'s usually one of \'Time\', \'Kiryuuin\', \'Clock Boy\', or even just \'Kid\'.

Out of all the myriad titles I am known by, one in particular sticks out to me like a sore thumb.

"Hero".

It wasn\'t until things got really bad that they began calling me such a thing as a last hope, but even then, I don\'t believe there was a single moment in which it was justified.

Right.

I had saved people; countless people.

So many people that the proportion of those who had cried my name rather than their own parents when they called for help is unfathomable.

Still, a \'hero\' is not something I deserved to be called.

Because, in the end, no matter how many people I was able to save in the beginning, it wasn\'t possible to keep that up forever.

Even if it was possible, it simply wasn\'t something I was able to do.

The world had reached its climax, and thus, its conclusion.

I let everyone down. The people I had saved, the lives I had improved; none of it mattered.

All of my actions prior, equated nothing.

Because everything was going to end regardless.

If I were a true hero, I would have been able to stop it. In fact, I was able to stop it. I should have been. But, I couldn\'t―No, I didn\'t.

Sacrificing my own life was not enough.

When I died, over and over again, in place of someone else; on those hospital beds, those mean streets, and from simply \'eating lead\'―individually, it was merely a fulfilment of my own satisfaction; to make me \'feel like\' I was accomplishing something with my life.

On a grander scale, what did any of it even matter?

In the end, the people whom I saved, those I put my life on the line and died for, those I went through endless torment and agony for... Didn\'t they all just perish anyway?

In the end, the world and everything within it had died, and so in vain were all my efforts.

When things ended, though, something inconceivable occurred.

Somehow, through any kind of God-given miracle, I had received a \'second\'-second chance.

By returning to the far past, wouldn\'t I have enough time to change everything?

The one man responsible for the destruction of the world―couldn\'t I stop him before he crosses the event horizon of disaster?

Slowly, I realised.

Everyone I had saved until now.

The children, the brothers and sisters, the husbands and wives.

It was all irrelevant.

Unless that man could also be saved, things would repeat and recur just as they had always and originally done.

Because that is the predetermined; the fated destiny of this world.

Measurement of Truth.

The Reality.

Cipher.

For not just my own sake, but for the sake and good of this world and this universe. From the puppies to the kittens, to the alligators and the elephants; the children, teens and adults; and for even the sake of that man himself.

I swore, not as a \'hero\', but as the man called \'Azaki Kiryuuin\'.

To save him.

To save the world, and to achieve its continuation.

❖─────❖─────❖

Once, there was peace.

Perhaps such is my view merely because I was then young, but I truly thought times were well; that life was good and just.

"Azaki," Someone called. It was the person who looked after me, as apparently my mother had passed away shortly after I was born and my father had left even before that point.

"There is somewhere I\'d like to show you."

This person, a friend of my deceased mother who had taken upon themself the role of my guardian, took me to a curious place; one hidden away from the rest of society.

That was, the Playground.

Introducing me to this strange place, my guardian claimed to be someone called a \'Warden\'. Explaining to me rather simply that their job was to protect humanity from the shadows, I was taken aback with wonder and awe.

How could I not be?

Even the \'dangerous individuals\' contained within that place were treated kindly and without spared expense when there was no need to, so it was obvious even at a glance that they were genuinely good guys who cared for others\' wellbeing.

Having immediately declared that I would grow up and save people like they did, my guardian chuckled and patted my head softly, saying I certainly had the potential and wishing me the best of luck.

After that, it turned out I possessed the Measurement of Time, which amazed more people than I could\'ve imagined at the time.

Despite everything, though, my guardian and the rest of the Wardens supported me in going to school as a normal kid would, and so I had to focus more on that as I grew up instead of going through the training to become a Warden myself.

Of course, I am, and always will be grateful for them giving me the chance to live a relatively normal childhood, though back then I remember being quite salty about it.

In any case, that was a time long past, and one that can never return.

The river of time flows, passes, and the present drifts along the gentle yet firm course of its stream.

Functionally, it serves as one of the underlying principles of how the world and the universe operates; a foundation. It is not something that can be changed by humans, or at least, it shouldn\'t be.

A regret, indeed, and a curse for many, certainly. But is that all it is?

Perhaps, rather than a curse, not being able to return to the past should be considered more of a blessing.

No need nor time to ponder \'what ifs\', \'should haves\' or \'shouldn\'t haves\'.

No need to agonise over what could have been.

Not to say one cannot revisit the past, or that returning to the past is a negative thing, but instead that it is more important to consider how present actions can and might affect the future, and what will become the present.

Actions are temporary, existing only in the present, but their effects are permanent.

Speaking of how one should have acted differently back then, or about how they could have achieved a different outcome, a more desirable future, or well, present.

You might think so, however, should you really?

It\'s not as simple as a \'yes\' or a \'no\'.

Even if, hypothetically, you could return to the past.

There are certain things which, as if predetermined by the universe itself, will happen. Events and outcomes, miracles and disasters; there are many things that simply cannot not happen no matter how one may attempt to mould the past.

Even for someone like me.

Is it worth all the struggle, pain, and vain endeavour just to make no or very little significant difference in the end?

Even if you cannot experience it yourself, surely you can empathise and imagine how such a thing might feel.

Truly, there is not much more soul-crushing than that.

Banging your head against a brick wall time and time again for absolutely zero merit, achievement or any other kind of substantial gain―purely because you feel like you have to, because it\'s the right thing to do.

Many might call it stupid, such a foolhardy and resolute determination.

They would say that only an idiot would sacrifice so much of themselves, put in such a herculean effort for something that cannot be.

And maybe they are right.

Nevertheless, it\'s not like I have any right to judge.

After all, only I can relate to my own nonsensical blather, and maybe it means nothing. But still.

Even if my words make no sense.

Even if my ramblings reach no one\'s ears, venting out my negative feelings loosens the tightening of my chest and lightens the weight on my shoulders, so I guess it\'s fine.

...And, at the end of the day, I can only ignore the bad feelings, shove them deep inside, and continue bashing my head against that dastardly brick wall.

In the past, present, and probably even future, that\'s all I\'ve been able to do, all I can do, and probably all I\'ll be able to do, or at the very least for a long, long time.

What it means to try for something I might not be able to achieve.

I don\'t know if there is any kind of subliminal meaning behind it or anything like that, but it doesn\'t matter.

All that matters is that I do what I have to do and that I get it done.

Because I\'m an idiot.

And only an idiot can be a Hero.