---
Part 1 – Living Ghost
The first thing Reina noticed when she walked downstairs was the smell of toast.
The second was the sound of humming — soft, off-key, and unmistakably his.
She stood frozen on the bottom step, one hand gripping the railing.
Alex was in the kitchen, facing the stove. He was wearing his wrinkled school shirt and pajama pants, flipping eggs with a small grin on his face like the world wasn't destined to collapse in two months.
"Morning!" he called out without turning. "You're up early. That's a record."
Reina didn't answer.
He turned, frying pan still in one hand. "You okay?"
She blinked. Her mouth opened, then closed.
He was real.
Not a dream. Not a memory. Not a ghost.
Alive.
She forced her voice to work. "You're… making breakfast?"
"Shocking, right? I can actually cook edible stuff when I try." He laughed. "You looked like you saw a ghost, though. Did you forget today's the opening ceremony?"
Reina shook her head, dazed.
> It's really March 31st.
He's really here.
She couldn't breathe. Her chest felt too full. Or too empty.
She stared at him — his white hair still slightly wet from the shower, his mismatched eyes lazy with sleep, the way his body swayed slightly when he was relaxed.
Every detail.
She'd buried him. She'd touched his cold hand at the funeral.
And now here he was.
Whole.
Smiling.
She nearly broke.
---
They sat down to eat.
Reina didn't touch much. She couldn't. Every movement he made — the way he chewed, the way he joked, the way he handed her the salt without asking — made her feel like her skin didn't fit anymore.
Alex didn't seem to notice.
Or maybe he did. And like always, he pretended not to.
He handed her a carton of strawberry milk.
> "Don't look so gloomy," he said. "It's a fresh year. Let's make good memories, yeah?"
Reina stared at the milk.
He always gave her one.
Even the day he died.
Her hands trembled slightly as she accepted it.
---
Part 2 – Back to Where It Started
The streets outside were bathed in early morning haze. Students in uniforms moved like clusters of birds, laughing, tugging bags, taking selfies. The world was bright again — too bright for someone who had seen it end.
Reina walked silently beside Alex.
She hadn't realized how much she'd forgotten about this time of year — the smell of the sakura trees, the way the wind felt against her legs in the skirt she'd almost outgrown, the warm weight of his presence beside her.
Alex talked like normal. Small things. Jokes. Plans for the year.
She only half-listened.
All she could think about was that note.
> "I'm sorry I kept smiling."
She wanted to scream. To shake him. To ask him why. Why he smiled so easily. Why he hid it. Why he died.
But she couldn't. Not yet.
---
Aizawa High hadn't changed.
Same yellow hallways. Same shoe lockers. Same chatter echoing off the walls. Even her teacher, Mr. Tanaka, had the same crumpled tie and stale coffee breath.
She sat in her usual spot by the window.
Alex came in a few minutes later, flopped into his seat, and gave her a wink.
No one else noticed the earthquake inside her chest.
Not when he leaned back in his chair and tapped his pen like always. Not when he passed her a note during the principal's welcome speech. Not when he drew a doodle of her with vampire fangs and a giant "GLOOM QUEEN" crown over her head.
Reina didn't smile.
But she kept the drawing.
She folded it carefully and slipped it into her bag.
Part 3 – Cracks in the Sunshine
The bell for lunch rang with the same obnoxious tone Reina remembered — a high-pitched jingle that always made her flinch. Students poured into the hallways in noisy waves, some dashing for the cafeteria, others flopping across desks to mooch off lunchboxes.
Reina stayed in her seat.
She wasn't hungry. Her appetite hadn't caught up with her soul.
Alex dropped into the seat beside her again, tray in hand. Curry bread, canned coffee, and two strawberry milks.
"Guess what I got?" he asked, holding up one of the cartons like a trophy.
"You're going to rot your stomach."
"Already has," he said with a grin, cracking it open.
Reina watched him.
That smile. Again. Always.
She looked closer this time.
His eyes crinkled when he smiled — just slightly. But today, there was a flicker. Barely noticeable. A faint delay between the smile and the rest of his expression catching up. Like it wasn't automatic.
Like it was practiced.
> How long have you been faking it, Alex?
How many times did I look away?
"You're staring," he said, chuckling. "Do I have something on my face?"
She blinked and looked down quickly. "No."
He nudged her tray. "Eat. You'll faint again like last year."
She flinched. She had fainted last year — in May. A heat stroke after skipping lunch too many times.
He remembered.
Even now.
Even then.
Why did he always remember the little things, but not tell anyone about his own pain?
---
The rest of the day blurred.
Classes felt like background noise to Reina. Math formulas she already knew. English vocab she couldn't focus on. She kept glancing sideways at Alex — when he raised his hand to answer questions, when he leaned back in his chair and whispered jokes to their seatmate, when he nodded off slightly during Literature.
> He looks the same.
Sounds the same.
But I know now what no one else does.
He's dying inside. And I only have months to stop it.
By the time the final bell rang, she could barely breathe.
---
After School
They walked home together again.
The sun hung lower now, painting the streets gold. Alex had one hand behind his head, the other swinging his bag lazily.
"Crazy how nothing ever changes, huh?" he said. "Same class, same teachers, same smelly shoe lockers. It's like this school's stuck in a time loop."
Reina almost laughed.
Almost.
"Would you want to go back in time if you could?" she asked suddenly.
He blinked at her.
"Go back?" He tilted his head. "Why?"
"To... fix things," she said softly. "Or understand something better."
Alex was quiet for a second.
Then he smiled again.
"That's what hindsight is for, right? If we did everything right the first time, we'd never grow."
> Is that what you told yourself, Alex?
That no one would understand until it was too late?
Her fists tightened at her sides.
---
That Night
Reina lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling.
She hadn't told him anything yet. She didn't know how. What would she even say?
> "You're going to kill yourself in one year"?
"I read your suicide note and time-traveled to stop it"?
He'd think she was insane.
And maybe she was.
But one thing she did know — crystal clear in her heart — was this:
> She would not let him die again.
> Not this time.
Not smiling like that.
Not alone.
Even if it meant unraveling every secret he'd ever hidden.
Even if it meant crossing lines that shouldn't be crossed.
> Even if she had to break her own heart to save his.