The Friend Beside Me
"Bro. Seriously. Are you okay?"
Kyle waved a hand in front of Arin's face.
Arin blinked.
The classroom had returned to normal. The clock was ticking, the teacher was explaining equations, and someone at the back was quietly trying to finish their homework.
But Arin couldn't stop thinking about the message.
YOU WERE NOT THE FIRST ARIN.
"Arin?"
"Yeah. I'm fine."
Kyle narrowed his eyes.
"You've said that four times in the last ten minutes."
"Maybe I'm trying to convince myself."
"That's the most suspicious thing you've ever said."
Arin almost smiled.
Almost.
Kyle leaned closer.
"Is this about the examination paper?"
"No."
"Is someone threatening you?"
Arin hesitated.
That was the problem with Kyle.
He joked about everything, but he noticed things other people missed.
In his first life, Arin had mistaken Kyle's cheerful nature for carelessness. He'd assumed Kyle would always be fine, always forgive him, always be there.
He'd been wrong.
"I just had a strange experience," Arin admitted.
Kyle's expression changed.
"Strange how?"
Arin looked at his best friend.
He wanted to tell him everything.
The first life. The betrayal. The pocket watch. The messages. The boy who looked exactly like him.
But what would Kyle hear?
That his best friend had somehow lived another twenty-seven years and returned to his teenage body?
That the world might be repeating itself?
That Arin had already lost him once?
"Forget it," Arin muttered.
Kyle leaned back.
"Right."
The single word hurt more than Arin expected.
Kyle turned toward the board.
For the rest of the lesson, he didn't ask another question.
And Arin realized that even in a second life, he could still make the same mistake.
He could still choose silence.
At lunch, Arin found Kyle in the library.
The blond boy was sitting at a corner table, surrounded by old school magazines and a stack of dusty folders.
"What are you doing?" Arin asked.
"Research."
"Since when do you research voluntarily?"
"Since my best friend started acting like a detective from a low-budget mystery series."
Arin pulled out a chair.
"Fair enough."
Kyle slid an old photograph across the table.
It showed the school entrance several years earlier. Students stood in rows, smiling awkwardly at the camera.
At the far edge of the photograph stood a boy holding a blue folder.
Arin's stomach tightened.
"The folder," he whispered.
"What?"
"I saw someone carrying one like that yesterday."
Kyle studied the picture.
"This is from the school's old academic competition. My older cousin was in this batch."
Arin examined the boy's face.
The image was grainy. The boy's features were difficult to make out.
But there was something unusual about his wrist.
A dark band, perhaps a watch.
"Why are you looking at this?" Arin asked.
Kyle stopped smiling.
"Because I think the examination paper incident has happened before."
Arin stared at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Three years ago, a student was accused of taking a sealed paper. The case was quietly dropped. Nobody talks about it now."
"Who was the student?"
Kyle looked down at the photograph.
"That's the strange part. His name isn't in the school records anymore."
A cold feeling settled over Arin.
"Names don't just disappear."
"Exactly."
Kyle opened a folder and revealed a photocopied page from an old school newsletter.
Most of the text was faded.
But one line remained readable:
Following the incident, the student involved was withdrawn from the institution.
Below it, someone had written a name in blue ink.
A. VALE
Arin stopped breathing.
Kyle looked up.
"Arin?"
Arin couldn't take his eyes off the page.
There were explanations. There had to be explanations.
Maybe another student had the same surname.
Maybe the handwriting was wrong.
Maybe—
"Arin, do you recognize this name?"
Arin forced himself to look at Kyle.
"No."
The lie came too quickly.
Kyle noticed.
He didn't challenge him.
Instead, he carefully folded the paper and placed it back inside the folder.
"Okay."
But his voice had changed.
"Then I guess we'll find out who it was."
They went to the rooftop after classes.
It had become their unofficial place to escape the noise of school.
Kyle sat against the railing, his schoolbag beside him.
Arin remained standing.
"You're doing that thing again," Kyle said.
"What thing?"
"Standing there like you're waiting for a tragic background song."
Arin sat down.
"Better?"
"Marginally."
For a while, they watched the clouds drift over the city.
Then Kyle spoke.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Of course."
Kyle rubbed the back of his neck.
"I almost left school last year."
Arin turned toward him.
"What?"
"Not because of the examination paper. Before that."
He gave a short laugh.
"I didn't tell anyone. My grades were falling, my parents were arguing about money, and I thought maybe I was just making everything harder for everyone."
Arin remained silent.
Kyle had always seemed so confident in his first life. He'd joked through bad days, smiled through disappointments, and acted as though nothing could truly bother him.
Arin had never wondered what happened when Kyle was alone.
"I even filled out a transfer request," Kyle continued. "I never submitted it. But I kept it in my bag for weeks."
Arin's hands curled into fists.
In his original life, Kyle had left school after the accusation.
Arin had always thought the incident was the reason.
Now he wondered whether it had merely been the final push.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Arin asked quietly.
Kyle looked at him.
"Would you have listened?"
The question landed between them.
Arin opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Kyle looked away first.
"That's what I thought."
"No," Arin said quickly. "I would have listened."
"Maybe."
"I mean it."
Kyle studied him for a long moment.
"Then start listening now."
Arin nodded.
Kyle took a breath.
"I don't need you to fix everything for me, Arin. I don't need you to predict every bad thing that's going to happen."
Arin felt his heart tighten.
"I just need you to be honest with me when something matters."
The sunset painted the rooftop gold.
Arin remembered the last conversation he'd had with Kyle in his first life.
I thought you would at least tell the truth.
This time, he refused to look away.
"You're right," Arin said. "There's something I haven't told you."
Kyle straightened.
Arin took a breath.
"There's a reason I've been acting differently. I can't explain all of it yet, but I promise I'm not trying to push you away."
Kyle watched him carefully.
"Is this dangerous?"
"I don't know."
"Are you in trouble?"
"I might be."
Kyle was quiet.
Then he extended his fist.
"All right. Then you don't have to figure it out alone."
Arin stared at the outstretched hand.
It was such a small gesture.
Such an ordinary thing.
But in his first life, he'd lost the right to it.
Arin bumped Kyle's fist.
"Thanks, bro."
Kyle grinned.
"Now, if you're done being mysterious, you owe me a samosa."
Arin laughed.
For a few seconds, everything felt normal.
Then Kyle's smile faded.
"There's one more thing."
"What?"
"When I was searching those old records, I found a letter."
Kyle reached into his bag and pulled out a folded envelope.
There was no address.
No stamp.
Only one sentence written on the front.
FOR THE BOY WHO COMES BACK.
Arin stared at the handwriting.
He recognized it.
It was his own.
Arin took the envelope.
His fingers trembled.
"Where did you find this?"
"Inside the back cover of that old newsletter. It looked like someone had hidden it there."
"When?"
"About twenty minutes ago."
Arin turned the envelope over.
The paper looked old, but not nearly old enough to have been hidden for years.
He opened it.
Inside was a single sheet.
He read the first line.
If you're reading this, then the second attempt has already begun.
His stomach dropped.
The letter continued.
You will want to save Kyle.
You will want to trust Mira.
You will want to discover who took the examination paper.
But those are not the reasons you returned.
Arin's breathing grew shallow.
The next lines were written more heavily, as though the person holding the pen had pressed too hard.
You returned because you made a promise you no longer remember.
At the bottom of the page was a date.
April 28, 2026.
Arin stared at it.
His original life had ended in 2026.
The letter was dated the year he had been twenty-seven.
But the final sentence was what truly frightened him.
When the clock reaches 11:17 again, ask Kyle what happened on the day you first met.
Arin slowly lowered the letter.
Kyle was staring at him.
"What's it say?"
Arin couldn't answer.
"Arin?"
He looked at his best friend.
"Do you remember the day we first met?"
Kyle frowned.
"Of course I do. We were little kids. You stole my seat, and I told you that you looked like a grumpy cat."
Despite everything, Arin almost laughed.
"That's what you remember?"
"That's what happened."
Arin looked down at the letter again.
There was a second page.
He hadn't noticed it at first.
He unfolded it carefully.
Only one line was written there.
Ask him why he remembers meeting you.
Arin's smile disappeared.
"What's wrong?" Kyle asked.
Arin looked at him, suddenly uncertain of everything.
"Nothing."
Kyle's expression hardened.
"You promised you'd stop saying that."
Arin swallowed.
Before he could respond, the pocket watch inside his bag began to tick.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The rooftop clock stopped.
11:17.
Kyle went completely still.
His face lost its color.
And, for the first time since Arin had returned to his second life, Kyle whispered something that made no sense.
"Not again."
Arin stared at him.
"What did you say?"
Kyle took one step backward.
His blue eyes filled with a fear Arin had never seen before.
"Arin..."
His voice shook.
"How many times have we done this?"