Leong never believed a person could die twice.
Death, to him, had always been the end — a full stop. A sharp cut to the film reel of life.
But the universe had a cruel sense of humor.
Because on the night Leong died, he learned something else:
sometimes, a man's life ends only after he realizes how foolish he has been.
It was raining heavily that night — the kind of tropical downpour that drowned even the city lights. The windshield of Leong's car blurred into streaks of silver as he drove through the deserted highway, knuckles white against the steering wheel.
He had only one thought in his mind.
Sofia.
His girlfriend.
His dream.
The woman he had spent the last three years chasing, loving, and—thinking back now—worshiping.
And she betrayed him.
The image replayed in his mind like a broken record: Sofia, in their apartment, standing next to a tall man in a designer suit. Her arms loosely wrapped around the stranger's torso. Her voice cold. Her eyes even colder.
"Leong, you're just… too ordinary. Too poor. Too slow."
"You're boring."
"I need a man who can keep up with my lifestyle. Someone who can give me everything I want."
The final blow:
"Thank you for the down payment for my car. And the handbag. And the phone. You were useful."
Useful.
Like a tool.
Like an ATM.
Leong's chest tightened. The rage, humiliation, and heartbreak swirled inside him until his vision fogged.
He sped up.
The rain hit harder.
The road narrowed.
And then—
A blinding white flash.
A truck.
Skidding.
Losing control.
Leong barely saw the massive vehicle sliding sideways before it slammed directly into his car.
A loud crash.
Glass shattering.
Metal twisting.
And then—
darkness.
A suffocating, heavy darkness.
He thought it was the end.
But the end never came.
Instead, Leong felt something warm. Something soft. Something… familiar.
A voice.
"Leong… are you awake?"
The voice was small, gentle, trembling. As if the speaker was afraid of breaking something fragile.
Leong forced his eyes open.
The first thing he saw was a pair of clear dark eyes staring down at him. Eyes full of sincerity. Full of worry.
Eyes he had always overlooked.
"Fatma…?" he whispered.
Fatma blinked, startled. Her long lashes trembled as she leaned closer.
"You remember me?"
Leong frowned. Remember her? What kind of question was that?
Fatma had been his classmate for years. Quiet, reserved, always sitting in the corner of the classroom like a shadow. She was the type of girl everyone treated kindly but never paid attention to — the type who always helped but was never thanked. The type who smiled softly but never asked for anything.
The type who looked at him sometimes…
with something close to affection.
And he—
He had been too blind to notice.
Leong pushed himself upright, looking around.
This wasn't a hospital.
This wasn't his apartment.
This wasn't the highway.
Or the car.
He was in a classroom.
His classroom.
The old wooden desks, the whiteboard with half-erased notes, the fluorescent light flickering in the corner—everything looked exactly like it did six years ago.
Panic rose inside his chest.
"What… what is this?" Leong muttered. "Where am I? Why am I—"
Fatma placed a hand on his arm, soft but steady.
"Leong, the teacher is going to be here soon. Are you okay? You look really pale…"
He stared at her.
She looked younger. Softer.
Her hair tied in a neat ponytail.
Her school uniform crisp and ironed.
She was the teenage version of herself — the one from his memories.
Leong felt his throat tighten.
He had gone back.
Back before everything fell apart.
Back before he met Sofia.
Back before the heartbreak, the debt, the humiliation.
Back to the time when Fatma still sat beside him in this classroom, quietly tucking her hair behind her ear, glancing at him when she thought he wasn't looking.
He swallowed hard.
"Fatma… what day is it?"
She blinked. "Monday. First day after mid-term break."
"That's not what I meant." Leong's breath trembled. "What year?"
Fatma tilted her head, confused. "Leong… it's 2019."
His heart dropped.
He died in 2025.
He had returned six years into the past.
A sharp breath escaped him.
Everything—
the betrayal
the crash
the rain
the pain
the burning humiliation—
all of it—
He could change it.
He could avoid Sofia entirely.
He could rebuild his life.
He could become someone powerful. Someone impossible to manipulate. Someone who would never again be used, drained, or stabbed in the back.
The possibilities flooded him like a raging tide.
Then he looked back at Fatma.
She was still holding onto his sleeve, silently staring at him with concern. No greed. No manipulation. No hidden intentions.
Just genuine worry.
Leong felt a strange ache in his chest. A soft, unfamiliar warmth that cut through the chaos.
"Why… are you helping me?" he asked quietly.
Fatma froze. Her cheeks flushed lightly, though she quickly tried to hide it.
"I… I just… You look tired."
"You always help others, so…"
"You deserve someone to help you too."
Her voice was timid but honest.
Leong was speechless.
No one had ever said something like that to him.
Not in his past life.
Not even once.
He looked at her small hands gripping his sleeve.
They were trembling slightly.
Fatma was shy. Gentle. Easily overlooked.
But she had the kindest heart in the room.
And for the first time since waking up, Leong felt something like peace.
He took a slow breath.
"Fatma," he said, his voice low, steady. "Thank you."
Her eyes widened, startled.
Before she could reply, the classroom door slammed open.
"Everyone, sit down!" the teacher barked. "Books out! We're starting."
Fatma quickly pulled her hand away, cheeks red, tucking her notes in front of her.
Leong leaned back in his seat.
His heartbeat slowed.
His mind sharpened.
His purpose crystallized.
He had a second life.
A second chance.
This time…
No one would use him again.
No one would steal from him.
No one would break him.
And Sofia—
the woman who destroyed him—
would never touch his life again.
But before anything else…
His gaze drifted to Fatma's side profile—calm, focused, unaware of how important she would one day become.
He made a silent promise.
This time, he would protect the girl who truly cared.
Even if he had not seen it before.
Even if he had been blind in his previous life.
A storm brewed quietly behind his eyes.
This was not the same Leong.
This was a man who had died once.
And a man who dies once…
never lives the same way again.
When the bell finally rang, Fatma began packing her books. Leong noticed she struggled with her heavy bag — the zipper was broken again.
He reached over.
"Let me carry that."
Fatma almost dropped the bag, startled. "W–wait! You don't have to—"
"I want to," he replied firmly.
She blinked at him in confusion. "Since when are you this… nice?"
Leong smirked lightly. "Since today."
"You're acting weird," she whispered.
"I feel weird," he admitted. "Like… I finally woke up."
Before Fatma could question further, a loud shrill voice echoed from the classroom doorway.
"Leong!"
His blood turned cold.
Standing there, flipping her hair, smiling brightly—
was Sofia, younger and even more beautiful than he remembered.
The predator wearing a school uniform.
Sofia waved at him sweetly.
"Come walk with me? I need your help."
Fatma stiffened.
Her smile dropped instantly.
Leong slowly turned to face the girl who would one day destroy his life.
But not this time.
He gave her a calm, cold smile.
"No," he said simply.
Sofia froze.
Fatma stared.
And for the first time…
Leong felt the satisfying beginning of his revenge.