Chapter 3: The Reunion

Yuki had made exactly three promises to herself on the way to school:

1. Stay calm.

2. Act normal.

3. Do not freak out at the sight of Ren Aoki.

She managed the first two. The third fell apart instantly.

Because Ren was standing right at the school gate, staring at her like someone who’d witnessed the world reboot overnight. Which, technically, they had.

For three seconds, neither of them moved.

For five more, neither of them blinked.

Then the awkwardness reached a spiritual level.

Yuki crossed her arms. “Why are you standing there like a glitching NPC?”

Ren blinked rapidly. “I—I was waiting.”

“For what? Divine intervention?”

“For… you,” he admitted.

That shut her up.

A group of first-years passed them, whispering loudly because teenagers never mastered the art of whispering.

“Are they fighting?”

“No, they look like exes who accidentally met.”

“In high school?”

“Modern romance is complicated.”

Yuki sighed. “I hate this timeline already.”

Ren stepped closer, voice low. “So you remember? Everything?”

She looked him straight in the eyes. “Ren. I remember our marriage. Our kids. The fights. The divorce. I remember everything.”

Some emotions flickered across his face—shock, relief, guilt. Mostly guilt. He had a lot of practice making that expression.

Before either of them could say more, someone slapped Ren on the back so hard he almost dropped his bag.

Haru Misato, human chaos generator, grinned like nothing was strange at all.

“Morning, lovebirds!”

Yuki made a face. “Don’t call us that.”

Ren tried to look natural. He failed. “We’re just—uh—friends.”

Haru stared at them. “Since when do friends stand at the gate like they’re reenacting a tragic drama scene?”

Yuki forced a smile. “We were… talking about homework.”

Haru squinted. “Homework? Before school starts? Wow. You two must be sick.”

Yuki opened her mouth to argue, but another voice cut in.

“Yuki, don’t stand too close to him. You’ll catch stupidity.”

Mina arrived with perfect timing and perfect annoyance. She grabbed Yuki’s wrist like she was rescuing her from a crime scene.

“You’re welcome,” Mina said to Yuki.

“You’re unnecessary,” Yuki whispered back.

Mina wasn’t listening. She was glaring at Ren, who looked like he’d aged ten years and regressed ten years at the same time.

“Well?” Mina demanded. “Why are you staring at her like that?”

Ren straightened. “Just saying good morning.”

Mina frowned deeper. “Since when do you talk in the morning?”

Ren hesitated.

Right. In this timeline, he wasn’t the somewhat-responsible adult version of himself. He was the quiet guy who barely spoke unless forced.

“Uh,” Ren said intelligently.

Mina rolled her eyes. “Thought so.”

Yuki nudged her. “Can you not interrogate him at the school gate?”

“I can and I will,” Mina said proudly.

Haru joined in with a grin. “Oi, Mina, don’t bully Ren. He’s sensitive.”

“I am not,” Ren protested.

Mina smirked. “Look at that. He’s arguing. Something’s definitely wrong.”

Yuki quietly massaged her temple. She remembered these two. Their arguments had been exhausting then, and apparently, nothing had changed.

She and Ren exchanged a glance—one of those silent adult conversations that had no business happening between two teenagers.

Ren mouthed, We need to talk.

Yuki mouthed back, Later.

Mina tugged her toward the courtyard. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

Haru dragged Ren in the opposite direction. “Bro, spill it. Why’d you look like you saw a ghost version of your crush?”

Ren almost tripped. “I didn’t look like that.”

“You totally did.”

Ren sighed. “Haru…”

“Yeah?”

“Please stop talking for ten seconds.”

Haru considered. “No.”

Yuki overheard and almost laughed. Almost.

Except nothing about this was funny.

---

They reached the shoe lockers. Summer sunlight filtered through the hallway windows, painting everything in the warm glow of a memory they hadn’t asked to relive.

Yuki glanced sideways. Ren was already watching her. Again.

She raised a brow. What?

He mouthed, Are you okay?

She mouthed, Are you?

He shook his head.

She nodded in agreement.

Both of them were hanging on by emotional duct tape.

---

Inside the classroom, everything felt too familiar. The desks. The noise. The smell of chalk. The teacher who looked a decade younger and significantly less tired.

Yuki sank into her seat. Ren sat diagonally behind her. It felt wrong and right at the same time. Like wearing clothes that used to fit but now carry a hundred memories of the life after.

Mina leaned in. “You’re quiet today.”

Yuki shrugged. “Long morning.”

Mina nodded. “You can tell me anything, okay?”

Yuki’s heart softened a little. Mina had always been loyal. Fierce. Protective. And in this timeline, she had no idea what Yuki carried.

“I know,” Yuki whispered.

Ren shifted behind her. She didn’t have to look to feel it.

When the homeroom teacher walked in, everyone straightened. The room went quiet. Yuki expected Ren to settle too.

He didn’t.

He leaned forward slightly. “Yuki.”

She stiffened.

“We’ll figure this out,” he whispered. “Together.”

Her breath caught.

Not because he said it.

But because he said it in the exact tone he used years later—when their first child was born, when their daughter cried at night, when their marriage was falling apart and he was trying to hold on.

She didn’t turn.

She just whispered back, “I hope you mean that this time.”

Ren didn’t reply.

He didn’t have to.

The silence said enough.

And for the first time that morning, Yuki wasn’t sure if going back in time was a blessing or a trap.