The rain came down in sheets, sharp and unrelenting, as if the sky itself were mourning. Blood mixed with the stormwater, trailing from the cold fingers of a girl lying crumpled beneath the twisted ruins of a shattered tower. Her once-silver armor was dented and torn, and strands of her long, dark hair clung to her pale face. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths.
Not far from her, a boy with ash-colored eyes knelt in the mud, his body bruised, his blade broken, his gaze locked on her. His mouth trembled, words unspoken dying on his lips.
"You were supposed to survive," he choked out, his voice raw. "I swore I'd protect you."
She smiled weakly, barely able to lift her gaze. "You always say that… even when we both know… it's not your fault."
He reached for her, crawling through the muck and blood, his fingers trembling as they brushed her hand. She clutched his in return, so faintly he could barely feel it. Her warmth was leaving her body.
"We were too late," she whispered. "Again."
Thunder cracked overhead. The battlefield around them was silent now, littered with the remnants of a war waged in shadows and secrets. He leaned closer as her lips moved once more.
"Find me," she breathed. "In the next life… no matter what… find me."
His vision blurred. "I will," he promised. "I swear it on everything I am. I will find you."
Her fingers slipped from his. Her final breath fled her body. And then—
Light.
Blinding, all-consuming white light surged through him. He felt the world twist, the pull of something ancient and impossible.
And then, nothing.
**********
Fifteen Years Old.
A scream tore through the morning air, followed by the sharp crash of something ceramic breaking.
Kai gasped, bolting upright in bed. His heart thundered in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. Sweat soaked his t-shirt, clinging to his back like chains. His eyes darted around the room—modern, safe, familiar.
Not a battlefield.
Not war.
Just… home.
Or at least, what was now considered home.
"Kai!" his sister's voice called from downstairs. "You're going to be late!"
He barely heard her. His fingers gripped the edge of the blanket as the images from his dream faded like smoke: the rain, the blood, her face.
Find me.
Why did that voice haunt him? Why did he know her—this girl with obsidian eyes and the smile of a dying star? Her name was always just out of reach.
He swung his legs over the bed and stood up, shakily making his way to the mirror. He stared into the eyes of his fifteen-year-old self.
Same face. Same scar on his shoulder from falling off a bike when he was seven. Same black hair and tired eyes.
And yet, different.
That dream felt too real.
He touched the mirror's surface, whispering to the silent boy reflected in the glass.
"Who were you… before this?"
*********
Across town, in a room painted in pale lavender and soft gray, a girl sat perfectly still on the edge of her bed. Her school uniform was laid out neatly beside her, untouched. The room was quiet except for the ticking of the clock.
Lyra inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.
Another dream.
Another death.
Another memory.
It had started two weeks ago—fragments of another life weaving themselves into her thoughts. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw ruins, war, betrayal. And him.
The boy with ash-gray eyes.
The boy she died for.
Why am I remembering this now?
A knock on her bedroom door startled her. Her aunt's voice followed.
"Lyra, sweetheart, breakfast is ready. Don't forget it's your first day at your new school."
"Coming," she replied automatically.
Lyra stood and dressed slowly, brushing her dark hair back from her face. As she slipped on her uniform jacket, her fingers brushed a pendant resting against her collarbone.
It was shaped like a crescent moon—something she didn't recall owning before. But somehow, it had always been hers.
Right?
*********
The halls of Ainsley Academy were buzzing with energy. Teenagers milled around in loosely formed cliques, exchanging gossip, laughter, and that unique cocktail of nervousness and anticipation that came with the first day of the new school year.
Kai kept his head low, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He didn't feel like talking to anyone. The dreams had left him shaken, his body tired even though he'd slept nearly ten hours.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way to Room 2-B.
"New school year," he muttered. "Maybe this one won't be cursed."
As soon as he stepped inside the classroom, his breath caught in his throat.
She was there.
At the window.
Her face in profile, her dark hair glinting in the sunlight. She turned slightly when the door clicked shut—and their eyes met.
Time stopped.
The noise of the room faded.
The storm in his mind went silent.
He didn't know her name.
But he knew her.
Lyra's breath hitched as her eyes locked with his. Her heart pounded in her chest as if something ancient had just stirred awake.
There he was.
Again.
Different body. Younger. But the same soul.
She knew it.
She felt it.
Their teacher's voice shattered the moment. "You must be Kai Takahashi, our transfer student. Take the empty seat near the window."
Kai walked slowly to the seat behind her, not looking away.
As he passed her, Lyra spoke without turning her head.
"Do you remember… anything?"
The words were so quiet he barely caught them. But his legs froze for half a second, and his eyes widened.
She knew.
She remembered.
He sat down, heart racing.
"Just dreams," he muttered under his breath. "But they don't feel like dreams."
Lyra turned toward him, the hint of a smile on her lips.
"Then maybe you'll remember the promise."
He stared at her.
"What promise?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she looked out the window again, watching the leaves sway in the wind.
But in her mind, she whispered the words she once said with her last breath:
Find me… in the next life.