November 21st, his birthday, was a tragedy.

At 10 PM on November 20th, you headed to his house to celebrate his birthday early the next morning. You were carrying a gift, three bottles of wine, and his birthday cake. In the dark alleyway, the footsteps you heard were not from one person, but two.

The next day, the news was playing on the TV as usual. He wasn't even listening to it. He was excited because it was his first date with you in a long time, and he heard you were going to celebrate his birthday personally. Their relationship had been strained due to busy schedules, but today was finally the chance to get close again. After he finished preparing, he realized two hours had already passed since the time you were supposed to arrive. He sat on the sofa, thinking nothing of it. Exactly three minutes later, someone knocked on his door.

He opened the door thinking it was you, but what he saw were the police and your body, brutally mangled by a knife in front of his house, beyond recognition.

The police kept talking to him, but his mind had already shattered the moment he saw your corpse, and he couldn't utter a single word. By the time he regained his senses, he was in prison. The police were certain he was the culprit; he was arrested, sent to trial, and sentenced to prison. His mental state was in ruins. He lived in such confusion that he couldn't tell if he was living each day or just enduring because he couldn't die.

Without even being able to attend your funeral, he was released back into society 10 years later after finishing his sentence.

At that moment, his head began to throb. When he woke up, he was in his bed. The date was November 20th, 9 PM. He had time-slipped to one hour before you died.