The next morning, Arin arrived at school early.
He had spent the previous evening reviewing mathematics, completing practice questions, and organising his notes. It was exhausting, but satisfying in a way he hadn't experienced in years.
As he entered the classroom, he noticed someone standing beside his desk.
Cassian Voss.
The school's top student.
Cassian held a sheet of paper in his hand.
"Arin Vale?"
"Yes?"
"I heard you're entering the academic competition with Kyle Alexander."
"That's right."
Cassian placed the paper on the desk.
It contained a list of sample questions.
"I thought you might find these useful."
Arin stared at him.
"You're giving me practice questions?"
"Don't misunderstand. I want the competition to be challenging."
Cassian adjusted his glasses.
"Winning against someone who hasn't prepared wouldn't be satisfying."
There it was.
That familiar arrogance.
Yet Arin noticed something he hadn't appreciated in his first life.
Cassian wasn't simply trying to humiliate him. He genuinely wanted to compete against someone who would push him to improve.
Arin picked up the paper.
"Thanks."
Cassian turned towards the door.
"One more thing."
Arin looked up.
"If you intend to win, don't depend on Kyle to carry you."
His expression hardened.
"Your friendship won't solve every problem for you."
Cassian left before Arin could respond.
Arin looked down at the questions.
Then he smiled faintly.
He's right about one thing.
Kyle could support him.
Encourage him.
Help him when he struggled.
But Kyle couldn't do the work for him.
That responsibility belonged to Arin alone.
The promise
After school, Arin and Kyle walked towards the bus stop.
The afternoon sky was turning orange, and the road outside the school was crowded with students and parents.
Kyle was talking about the competition when Arin interrupted him.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Depends. Are you going to ask me to lend you money?"
"No."
"Then go ahead."
Arin hesitated.
"Do you think a person can ruin a friendship without realising it?"
Kyle's expression grew thoughtful.
"Of course."
"What if they realise it too late?"
"Then they apologise."
"And if apologising isn't enough?"
Kyle stopped walking.
"Arin, what's going on?"
For a moment, Arin considered telling him everything.
That he had lived ten years beyond this moment.
That he remembered losing people he loved.
That he had been given another chance and was terrified of wasting it.
But he couldn't explain something he barely understood himself.
So he told Kyle the truth he could tell.
"I'm afraid I'll make the same mistakes again."
Kyle watched him carefully.
"You've been acting strange lately."
"I know."
"You apologise more. You actually study. Yesterday, you even offered to help me with mathematics."
"Was that really so shocking?"
"You once told me mathematics was a government conspiracy."
Arin laughed.
"That still seems plausible."
Kyle smiled, but his expression soon became serious.
"Listen. I don't know what has changed, and I'm not going to force you to explain it. But if you're trying to become better, then do it properly."
Arin looked at him.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means don't pretend to be someone you're not. Don't work hard for three days and then give up because you didn't become a genius. And don't disappear whenever something gets difficult."
Kyle held out his hand.
"Deal?"
Arin stared at it.
In his first life, there had been a moment when Kyle had offered him the same kind of trust.
Arin had let it go.
This time, he took his hand.
"Deal."
Kyle grinned.
"Good. Now let's get to work. We have a competition to win."
They continued towards the bus stop.
Neither noticed the girl standing across the road.
Mira Solen watched them with an unreadable expression.
In her hand was a small notebook.
She opened it to a page filled with dates and names.
Then she crossed out one sentence.
Arin Vale loses his closest friend on April 21.
Beneath it, she wrote a new line.
April 21 — The future changes.
Mira closed the notebook.
For the first time, she looked genuinely worried.
Because she knew something Arin didn't.
Changing one event was easy.
Living with everything that followed was another matter entirely.