Sato was an ordinary office worker.
He left for work at the same time every day, returned home at a regular hour, and held no grand ambitions. A peaceful life was all he desired.
The change came when he grew close to the man living next door—Saito.
Their first encounter was one night by the garbage collection area.
“Good evening,” Sato greeted casually.
Saito responded with a polite smile and a “Hello.”
Both lived alone, in identical apartments, and were around the same age. They hit it off quickly.
Saito was sociable, easy to talk to. They spoke for hours about work frustrations, weekend routines, hobbies—it all felt natural.
But then, one day, something strange began to gnaw at Sato.
It happened while he was shaving in front of the mirror.
As he studied his reflection, he realized something disturbing.
—He and Saito looked far too alike.
No, not just alike. Identical.
The shape of their eyebrows, the structure of their cheekbones, even the wrinkles near their eyes. As if he were looking at his own reflection.
A chill ran down his spine. That couldn’t be right.
Why hadn’t he noticed before? He’d seen Saito’s face many times.
“Could it be…?”
Sato couldn’t shake the suspicion. He decided to investigate Saito.
But something was off.
He found no trace of Saito—no social media, no job records, nothing. It was as if he didn’t exist.
Panic rose within him. Who was this man really?
That night, his doorbell rang.
Standing there was Saito.
“…We need to talk.”
Sato let him in, and Saito sat calmly on the sofa, a serious look in his eyes.
“It’s time to switch,” he said.
Sato’s heart pounded.
“…Switch?”
“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” Saito smiled faintly. “You were assigned the role of ‘Sato.’”
The words made no sense.
“We rotate regularly. You become me, and I become the new you.”
It was nonsense—or should have been. But beneath the words was something true, something terrifying.
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Do you really remember your past?”
Sato couldn’t answer.
When he tried to recall his childhood, his university years, even when he’d moved into the apartment—it was all hazy. Like… implanted memories.
“…This can’t be real.”
“I know it’s hard to accept. But it is.”
Saito stood and gently placed a hand on Sato’s shoulder.
“Now, it’s your turn to become the new me.”
Sato tried to run—but his body wouldn’t move. As if invisible strings controlled him, his consciousness began to fade.
The last thing he saw… was himself, standing before him.
“Until the next exchange.”
Saito—no, the new Sato—smiled.
