One hand on the steering wheel, another clasping a phone to his ear, Noll stared off in the distance as the blank dial tone grew louder and louder. It was like a bee buzzing around at first, on and off, as if it was zooming in and out of the car. In a few beats, it grew into a sound reminiscent of the vehicle's security alarm—obnoxious and demanding. And then, it was fire alarms—no, ambulance sirens.

The bells screamed into his ears.

-:-

Noll spends today with Martin, unbelievably. Luella urges them to do so, seeing as both of them have been obviously stressed out during the week; Martin with checking his students' papers, and Noll with restlessness, which Luella's presumed is the anxiety of being thousands of miles away from his twin brother.

And so, Luella deems today a quality father-son holiday. She throws them out of the house and lets them decide where they'll go. It's just the two of them, since Gene has already left for Japan yesterday. Noll and Martin spend a long, winding minute on the porch, shuffling and avoiding each others eyes.

It hasn't always been like this, not in other timelines. Noll has been especially close to his adoptive father two loops ago, when he allowed himself to live that lifetime without worrying about Gene up until his body turned 17 years old, on the year of Gene's death. Noll knows for a fact that he and Martin have a lot in common, so he knows exactly how they could spend this day. However . . . he has spent this timeline withdrawn from the world. In this timeline, his seventh, he interacts with his family only minimally, only whenever he needs to—even with Gene.

This entire timeline, he spent planning several countermeasures against Gene's looming death. He has come up with countless theories and hypotheses, backing them up with his memories from other timelines when he failed to save his brother. It isn't the solid evidence he desperately needs, and he's afraid he might have remembered things wrong, but he has reached his mind's limit and has gone beyond just to create a plan to break this loop.

It took a lot of urging on Martin's part to know Noll's opinion. In the end, they decide to go to the ocean. Martin initially suggests for them to head to an aquarium, but Noll protests, saying there would be too many people on a Saturday afternoon. He adds that he's not a kid anymore, and it is true, technically. He's 33 years old in mind but not body, which is only 17 years old.

Setting his gaze out the car window, Noll sits shotgun while Martin drives. They pass by a coastline, boats of several kinds lined up on their respective docks, the endless sea stretching farther and farther away. There's a flock of gulls flying overhead, and Noll opens the window to hear their cries. The wind is harsh across his cheeks.

"You're going to start college soon, Noll," Martin starts, grasping at a topic he deems safe enough to discuss. He never did learn how to deal with the younger of his sons, and the deep creases across his forehead tells Noll how he regrets it now. "Have you decided on a program yet?"

"I'm not going to college, Martin," Noll replies, his voice even. In another timeline, his parents will have blanched at the idea. Noll has always been keen on keeping his studies up throughout all his loops. And once upon a time, during his first life, he's even finishing up a doctorate. This timeline however, Noll has barely paid attention to his schooling, only attending class on important dates so he won't get kicked out.

Martin sighs with a small smile on his lips. It isn't a happy kind of smile, nor is it empty. It's the kind of smile a parent dons when they've given up. "It's fine that you want to take charge of your life, son, but have you considered your future? Your Mum and I won't be here forever to support you."

I think about the future every single second of my repeated life, Dad, he wants to say, but that will arise too many questions and too little answers. "Of course. I'll take a gap year and think about it again." If Gene doesn't die in a few days, that will mean Noll won't die next year. He'll think about his future then.

"That's good, that's good."

The wind slaps him harshly, still.

-:-

'Noll . . . Oliver, dear. Gene's dead.'

-:-

The date is November 22, Saturday. Tenth loop. Judging from the soft rays slanting through the curtains, it's either dusk or dawn. What a gloomy day it is outside those windows, clouds hanging like a heavy blanket over the city, thunder rumbling steadily across the sky. If he remembers right, today is he and his brother's first day in the Davis residence, right after they were adopted by the Luella and Martin.

The ceiling is a familiar friend; he's stared at it during many mornings in his childhood, on days he woke up too early and couldn't go back to sleep. They have shared—will share—this room until they turn thirteen, when Gene steps his foot down and demands a separate room, saying he's old enough to have his own.

Noll could have risen and explored the house, like he did in the first timeline, but his brother hasn't woken up yet. The blanket beside him shifts, stretches, and gets kicked off the bed. The child responsible continues his sleep with not a bother on his angelic face. Black locks cover his closed eyes, wayward strands jumping out at every direction. His 8-year old twin brother mumbles nonsense in his slumber, chapped lips nearly breaking open at each syllable.

As the sun rises higher and higher in the bleak sky, Noll watches Gene with a complicated expression on his face. More light filters into the room, and Gene's sickly pallor is made more apparent. Noll no doubt looks exactly the same.

Reluctant to move for fear of waking Gene, yet itching to stand, Noll instead settles for observing his old—new—room. A single bed that can fit two children, two recently polished study desks, and a cabinet with only 2 sets of clothes in them; one for himself and one for his twin. He vaguely remembers them leaving the rest of their clothes at the orphanage for other kids to use.

There's an empty bookshelf covering one cream-colored wall, a painting of a garden donned on another. The room is as bare and impersonal as the hotel room he had rented for months all those years ago in his first life, when he was still looking for his brother's dead body.

The room's door creaks open, only a crack, yet Noll jumps at the slight sound. His heart drums erratically in its cage and he lifts a small hand to place over it. A woman in her thirties peaks from behind the door. For a moment, Noll can't recognize the woman—curly blond hair, searching green eyes, quivering smile. It's been too long since he has properly looked at Luella. He's spent the last loop focused entirely on Gene that everything else blurred out to his peripherals.

Luella notices his gaze on her, and a corner of her lips rises ever so slightly. It brightens her entire features. Eyes crinkled, she brings one finger to her lips as if to shush him, then points to his brother. Gene whimpers in his sleep, childish mumbles escaping short breaths.

Noll slips out from under the covers as carefully as he can. He pads across the hardwood floorboards, small thumps accompanying his steps. Luella's smile widens again, and Noll responds with a hesitant smile of his own. Her eyes start to twinkle with unshed tears of happiness. Noll tries not to show he has noticed.

"Good morning, Oliver," she whispers, staring at him in wonder. No doubt little Oliver has been short with her before his mind inhabited this body. "Are you hungry? I'll cook breakfast for you."

"Yes please," he says. He doesn't whisper, but his voice is equally quiet. He starts to head for the kitchen when he stops himself—he's not supposed to know his way around yet. He moves his weight to his left foot, then to his right, wonders if it'll be too odd for little Oliver's behavior, then reaches up to slip his small hand into Luella's.

She squeezes his hand gently and leads him to the kitchen. From his and Gene's room, they cross a long hallway of doors and landscape paintings before they descend down the staircase and into a large foyer. Luella keeps Noll's hand folded in hers until they reach the kitchen, lets go when she prepares the pots and pans.

"What's your favorite breakfast, Oliver?" Luella enunciates his name in a manner as warm as her motherly hugs, and it's been that way ever since he could remember, up until he grew to his teens, up until his last breaths on his numerous deathbeds. Noll will never forget the way she smiled through her tears, reassuring him that he'd be fine soon. Don't sleep yet, Noll. Stay with momma a bit longer.

"Just toast and scrambled eggs, please. And tea." He shuffles over to the breakfast nook, needing to hop up to reach the seat. Surprisingly, he has adjusted to this small body right away, in spite of being an teenager just yesterday.

He watches as Luella cooks, who hums quietly to herself. He would love to hear her sing again, her lullabies and arias already swimming behind his ears. Luella is a former opera singer, but she had to quit due to a complication with her lymph nodes.

She sets down the simple meal in front of him—eggs on toast with mushrooms and cherry tomatoes at the side. Tea is set beside the plate, the cup made of fine china. Noll catches a whiff—darjeeling. His stomach grumbles, and he ducks his head, hiding the spreading warmth at the nape of his neck.

"Help yourself, " she says, and even though she chuckles, everything in the kitchen is so quiet, so serene.

Noll wants time to stop right here. He doesn't want this peaceful moment to end, doesn't want this day to end if another comes. Another day means growing old again. Another month, another year, means getting that much closer to his brother's death. Another decade means Noll himself dying once more and doing everything all over again and going back one more year earlier than the last loop.

His body is eight years old. His mind is approximately 54. In 9 years, at age seventeen, his brother will die.

But none of that will matter is he fails to save Gene within these last 8 tries. If he goes over that number, it would mean going back to a time where he doesn't exist, thus the end of his existence.

-:-

If I end my life before it ends next year, will I still come back? Will I still need to continue this pointless cycle? I'm tired, Gene. Let me join you where you are.

-:-

Before opening his eyes, the last picture Noll sees is of a weeping sky framed by a car's windshield. It looks as if the heavens have shattered—or is in the process of shattering. But he realizes, as the picture blurs into another when he opens his eyes, that it's only broken glass, not the broken heavens.

Bullet-like raindrops hammered across the wrecked car, but the sound is replaced by a sudden hush. His ears feel as if they're clogged, like he's under water. Except, his pulse is loud and clear—slow and erratic, but still there. Propping himself up on an elbow, he tries to sit up, but there is a heavy weight settled on his chest. He gasps at the pressure, eyes opening and seeing only white. It isn't real, he knows. He isn't dying. He stopped dying.

Despite knowing it won't be there, despite having done this three times before, he checks if there's a large shard piercing his chest all the way through to the other side. There isn't, of course not. He takes in a shallow breath, lets it out in a pant, and takes in another, and another. He knows—he has established that only his mind can pass through time-space; he left his dying body in the past timeline. And yet, the rising panic won't leave him, all he could do is let his elbow give up under him, lie back down and try to manage his quickening breaths.

"Noll! Are you tired already?! C'mon, I know you barely go outside but you shouldn't be this pathetic!" It's Gene, his laughter ringing through the tall trees of Yamagata's vast forest. He sounds so far away.

In a small clearing, Noll lies flat on his back. He can feel small, sharp rocks digging into his skin, his thin shirt an inadequate shield against them. A cool gust breezes by but it does nothing to ward off the unforgiving heat of the summer sun. According to this morning's weather forecast, today is the hottest day of the year. Gene, this stubborn brother of his, has still decided to push through his planned hike.

Noll couldn't bring himself to leave him alone-this week is around the day of his death. In this timeline, Noll goes with Gene to Japan, to this faraway land where one accident or another has never failed to kill him.

Today is their third day in this country, a trip Martin and Luella approved as their summer holiday. Noll assured their parents they can come back in three days, but Gene was adamant on two weeks. They reached a compromise of one week.

"Noll? You doing fine over there?" Twigs and leaves are crushed from a few ways away outside Noll's field of vision. The steps come closer and stop right beside him, where a muted thud meets the ground—Gene's heavy backpack.

"I'm fine," Noll replies, left hand still over his chest, his breath steady.

"Are you okay? You look paler than usual . . . What the hell, you should've gotten a tan from all the trekking we did." Gene lifts Noll's arm and compares it side by side with his.

"I just need to catch my breath." Noll retracts his arm and covers it over his eyes. "How much longer 'til we get there?"

"Uh. Um. We're almost there . . ?" Gene shifts, sits up. There's a rustling of paper beside Noll; Gene's worn map being manhandled for the thirtieth time this afternoon.

"How important is it to you to reach the top of this mountain?"

"Very. I've been planning this for months, you know that," Gene replies, patting his SLR camera. "I want to take the perfect photo of the sunset over the valley."

"Would you stake your life on it? Just to take that photo?"

Gene pauses, his lips twisted to one side as he thought. "Yeah, I would. I just know it'll jumpstart my career as a photographer." He removes the cover on his camera's lens and takes a quick snap at Noll.

"But what if you die right after you take that picture?"

Gene raises an eyebrow at Noll. "Well, you know what they say about dead artists—people appreciate them more. That's the best shortcut to popularity actually," he laughed. "But I know I won't. You'll be there to save me, right?"

Noll lifts his arm to his forehead and looks at his twin—black fringe, pale skin, sunburnt nose, blue eyes, constant smile. It's disconcerting to think how he's never seen this face grow older into adulthood, neither on Gene nor on himself.

"I will. I promise."

-:-

The phone fell from his faltering grip, and he heard the dial tone halt to a finish. Everything was silent, and yet the bells were still there.