This fic, while a tentative one-shot, isn't a promise that I'll write more regularly (or just write something at all). But, if I do choose to, I think I'll elaborate on this a lot more.

Kagerou Project belongs to Jin and Orange belongs to Takano Ichigo.

August 15th.

To the 16 year-old Ayano Tateyama,

How are you doing? It's you from the future.

I have a request for you, because I regret not being able to do both.

Please save not only your family, but Shintaro Kisaragi as well.

Brown eyes glance over the last sentence a number of times, the disbelief piling up in her stomach as if someone had piled rocks one after the other. Digits hold the paper with a slight tremor, the air suddenly lacking and breathe struggling to continue.

The letter tucked so discreetly under his desk, resting slightly on that clothed lap, had brought to her an urgent plea.

There was only one page, holding this ominous message as the everyday bodies of her classmates stood up to greet their teacher, the beginning of what seemed like an ordinary school day for the majority of them. Ayano was quick to shove the letter in the compartment of her desk, hands fumbling as to not make a scene, although the rustling of the parchment had disturbed the classroom's peace and drew several people's attention to the clumsy girl.

She offered them an apologetic smile, and her hands went behind her back after her work was done. They knew that she was like this – slow, without a single hint of grace in her system. Such an endearing trait received a few understanding smiles and nods, a look of affirmation, and they slowly turn back to the front of the room.

Warily, she looks over to the right of her, where the aforementioned boy stood with a slight slouch, the dark circles around his eyes a baggage for all the nights he'd previously spent awake and restless. He was a slim boy, although he towered over Ayano easily. She knew very little of him, despite her best efforts to strike a friendship with this apathetic genius, although she did deem it progress when he would sometimes start small conversations with her (mostly consisting of, "why do you wear that scarf in hundred-degree weather?").

And now she was supposed to save him…?

The symbolic red clips in her hair shook along with her head, the smile from earlier withering to something of a smaller, timid one, eyebrows bunched together in the concern that settled in her heart.

She already had a plan for her family, a promise she made to those "monsters" with red eyes. It was a brash, lonely plan, but she planned to follow through with it nonetheless. She depended on the absence of any obstructions, of any obstacles, but alas, the letter had came to be, existing in that mailbox of hers as she prepared herself for whatever this August day would bring to her.

Still, she can't ignore such a message. For her future self to take care with each stroke of his name, for her future self to take the time and tell her this…it won't be for naught, and with a resolution stronger than ever, she faces forward.

A letter drifted slowly from the sky, dust dancing around it as the sun ominously struck its rays through the paper.

A tentative finger reaches out slightly, followed by a second, a third, a fourth, a fifth. Hand stretched out wide, that gesture made sure that the letter would not fall any farther, arm dangling from the fence of the rooftop, the other hand hanging on the railing oh-so tightly.

Eyes flicker over the words more than once, and then there was a sense of responsibility.

This was their lonely plan.

Letter grasped tightly in one of her hands, she calls out for the boy when the day had ended, the students shuffling through the room and the hallway.

"Shintaro-kun!" She says this with a somewhat loud voice, standing up quickly and shoving the letter in the pocket of her skirt so as not to arouse suspicion from her seatmate.

The boy, having just looked up from his phone, had a questioning look on his face as she rushed towards him, bag hanging sloppily from her shoulder and hair swept in an unkempt manner. "Shintaro-kun, can we walk home together?"

Several eyes look at their direction, but the boy's (un)popular status, both as an intelligent student and as indifferent robot, guided them to look away after a few seconds.

"Walk home with you…Tateyama-san?" He stops himself from referring to her by her first name, although his own slips through her mouth with ease. With an increasingly confused face, he stammers, "I – I don't know, why – "

"There doesn't have to be a reason!" She exclaims with practice glee, slinging her arm around one of his, dragging him out into the hallway. This was her solution – to guide him safely home, so that no harm can happen to him. Then she'll be free to carry out her more elaborate scheme.

"Shintaro-kun…is there anything you regret?"

The two of them crossed the all-too familiar bridge, sun beginning its dip into the horizon. In an hour's time, the sky would be painted shades of red, orange, yellow…a perfect view, if she had to say so herself.

"What's with that question?" He looks at her with exasperation, and then turns back to the road in front of him. "Why do you want to know, of all people? It's not like you to think so deeply."

If I can save you this way, too, then it'll make later a little easier.

…She can't say that.

"Keeping everything to yourself is painful, isn't it?" She smiles, sincerity dripping from her expression. "I want to know about you, Shintaro-kun. I want us to move from being acquaintances to being friends!"

She thought she was imagining it, but she swore she saw the boy give off a bittersweet expression.

"I'd say the same thing myself."

"Huh?"

She stops her steps, and his features hardened once again. He looks behind her, and although it seemed as if he felt nothing, the atmosphere felt so dense, and he looked contemplative.

"I'm just saying. You're being hypocritical if you don't take your own advice." He faces the end of the bridge, continuing his walk with his hands in his pockets.

She could only follow along, wondering why he said that.

The name in that letter was familiar to them, and they'd be lying if their face hadn't flashed through their mind when in deep thought.

Although they were described as unsympathetic…they had feelings too, deeply rooted in the corner of their heart. Feelings they never thought they'd find a use for, feelings that caused his head to ache and his head to err.

She looked over that sunset with a sad smile on her face, digits getting ready to let go of the railings. That freefall from the rooftop to the ground…would she feel like she were flying, even for just a millisecond? Would the wind be kind to her, would it sweep her off her feet?

She had delivered the boy safely to his home, and with that task completed, she turned back to the school to finally conclude her most thought-about mission. To save her family, the siblings she grew to care about…she'd get those red eyes herself.

"Ah, I'm wasting time…!" The sun continued its setting course, and she sighed, eyes softening as a tear rolled down her cheek, taking refuge in the red cloth wrapped around her neck. "I should get this over with, but I'm kind of scared. I'm a terrible big sister, aren't I?"

Just as she was about to push herself over, just as she was about to face the snake that opened a portal in front of her –

A hand reached out.

She was pulled back by an arm wrapped around her waist, and her brown eyes, not red, eyes widened as she fell not from the gravity pulling her down to her death, but backwards with whatever forces the being used to drag her away from the disappearing snake.

That plan of hers –

She turned her head around, and although of breathe, began to talk.

"S – Shintaro-kun…!" She shifted her weight, although she remained on top of him, the boy struggling to get up with that weak figure of his. She searched his face for answers, but only the occasional huff answered. "Shintaro-kun, what are you doing here…? You weren't, you were…"

"Idiot…you didn't listen to me."

And in the hand he lifted up was a letter.

"Wait, you – "

"It told me about your plan to get into the Heat Haze," he said simply, and for once, his eyes broadcasted an array of emotions – relief, understanding, anxiety. "After you went through with it, apparently I…"

"You…?" She leaned closer, completely ignorant of how little space existed between her face and his own, and of the blush that began spreading across his cheeks.

"I became a NEET." He said this bluntly, and although he tried averting his glance, the girl in front of him was too captivating. "And I never figured out why you did what you did. So it told me to save you right now, before anything happened."

His voice gets softer, and the words she never heard came out of his lips. "I know I'm terrible at talking, but I'm here if you need me. You don't have to be a hero on your own."

And the tears continued streaming down her face.

To the 16 year-old Shintaro Kisaragi.

I have many regrets, and letting her die is the biggest one of them all.

Please, save Ayano Tateyama.