Chapter 2: Seven Resets in Vain

The class bell rang. Julian returned to his seat in the last row.

His soaked jersey clung to his back, outlining the sharp curve of his shoulder blades.

From the podium, the teacher could still see the slight tremble in his shoulders.

But ultimately, the teacher said nothing.

Because Julian and Tristan...

They were, after all, a kind of family.

The homeroom teacher had contacted the parents before—specifically, Julian's father, who was Tristan's stepfather.

Mr. Vance simply turned a blind eye, blatantly favoring his stepson, Tristan.

As a result, Tristan's bullying didn't lessen; it only intensified.

Since then, no teacher bothered to intervene.

In the adult world, thankless issues like this were easily brushed off as 'family matters.'

Now, I stared at my textbook but couldn't absorb a single word.

Back when I was lying in a hospital bed, I accepted The Construct's binding and arrived in this world.

The Construct promised that if I completed my mission, it would cure my illness.

I figured redeeming a gentle boy wouldn't be that difficult.

During the first three loops, I stayed by Julian's side as a friend.

I shielded him from the bullying, listened to his worries, and shared every piece of happiness I could find.

Naively, I believed friendship alone would be enough to pull Julian through his darkest moments.

But every single time, all I received was a cold funeral invitation.

And a handwritten letter he left behind:

*[Maya, you are my best friend. Thank you. Please, be happy.]*

The words were so clean and gentle.

He always considered everyone else so thoroughly, yet forgot to leave a way out for himself.

It wasn't until the fourth reset that I realized my feelings for Julian had grown beyond sympathy.

I fell in love with the boy who would hand me his only umbrella in the rain and run off to get drenched.

The boy who tracked my cycle, carried spare pads, and quietly took heavy bags from my hands.

I loved his enduring kindness toward such a harsh world.

I even loved his deep-rooted insecurities and his sensitivity.

From that point on, I gave him my all.

I poured out my love, my optimism, and all my passion.

I tried to light a fire in his pessimistic world that would never burn out.

So I confessed my feelings, we started dating, and eventually, we moved in together.

Julian would sit by the bed watching me sleep, leaving a soft kiss on my forehead when I woke up.

He loved hugging me from behind, burying his face in my neck, and whispering, "Maya... Maya, meeting you is the greatest luck of my life."

I thought he had truly escaped his demons.

I believed that this time, we could walk toward a future where we grew old side by side.

But his death always arrived without warning.

One day, Julian would be wearing the bunny apron I had picked out, his face flushed from the steam in the kitchen, gently tilting his head to ask, "Maya, do you want steamed fish or braised fish tomorrow?"

The very next day, I would find an empty bottle of sleeping pills beside his cold body.

One night, we would fall asleep in each other's arms, his warm breath resting against my neck.

The next morning, the space beside me would be empty, and the heavy scent of blood would drift from the bathroom.

I would collapse, shaking my head in disbelief over and over again.

And beside his body, there was always a small wooden box.

The first time I saw it, Julian had taken a yellowed note from inside.

After just one glance, all the color drained from his face.

I asked him what it was.

Julian immediately tucked the note back into the box and gave me a reassuring smile.

He said it was nothing and told me not to worry.

The next day, Julian turned on the gas in a sealed room.

From then on, I desperately searched for that wooden box.

I needed to know what was written on that note that pushed him toward death time and time again.

But I never found it.

That is, until the seventh reset—the previous cycle.

Julian and I had made it so far, further than ever before.

We had finally gotten married, and his genuine smiles were becoming much more frequent.

That afternoon, I had just returned from the hospital.

Clutching my medical report, I pushed open the bedroom door, eager to surprise him.

Then, I saw it.

Julian stood quietly by the window, holding that all-too-familiar note.

The joy I had prepared instantly froze on my face.

It took all my willpower not to rush over hysterically, snatch the paper from his hands, and tear it to shreds.

"Julian..."

I heard my own voice trembling.

"I... I'm pregnant. Do you want to see our baby?"

Standing by the window, Julian looked so pale, like a wisp of light in the snow that might melt away at any second.

He turned around, his silhouette backlit by the sun, wearing that familiar, sorrowful smile.

"Yeah, later."

My entire world collapsed in that moment.

"Julian!"

I shook the report frantically as tears rolled uncontrollably down my cheeks.

"Isn't this enough?! Aren't you looking forward to our baby? What the hell is written on that paper? Even if it's a curse, so what? I'm here! I'm right here! We can start over!"

For a brief moment, the illusion that Julian was about to vanish shattered.

He rushed over and pulled me into a desperate hug, apologizing over and over again.

His embrace was so tight, as if he were trying to embed me into his very bones.

But the next day, he still jumped from the roof of that building.

I had loved him, saved him, and pulled him out of the abyss again and again.

Yet every single time, he chose to jump right back down.

I had struggled and held on for so long.

But all of it—every last bit of effort—had been in vain.

"Ding-ding-ding—"

The harsh school bell dragged me out of my memories.

I was still dazed, my vision slightly blurry.

*Bang!*

A hand slammed onto my desk, making my pencil case jump.

A shadow loomed over me.

I looked up and saw Tristan.

With one hand tucked into his pocket, he leaned forward slightly, looking down at me.

The top two buttons of his jersey were undone, revealing sharp collarbones.

His dark hair was a bit long, the strands falling forward and almost covering his eyes.

"Hey, Maya Brooks."

He spoke with a lazy drawl, carrying a hint of a streetwise edge.

"What you said before class... that 'take me away' stuff. What did you mean?"

Tristan paused, then smirked, revealing slightly sharp canine teeth.

"You're not... into me, are you?"