[JOW]
The first slivers of morning light knifed through the curtains, dragging me from the clutches of sleep. I sat up in bed, my chest tight with each shallow breath, a dull ache of confusion and resignation clinging to me like a shroud.
“Morning already? It felt like my eyes just closed…” I mumbled, rubbing the grit from my eyelids. “And yet, here I am, back in this reality. Back in the emptiness that greets me every dawn.”
Love.
What a beautiful lie we tell ourselves, isn’t it? In the beginning, it’s all sunlight and roses, whispers of forever in the dark, vows of always and eternity. But then… then the storm rolls in. Life happens, and suddenly those promises shatter like glass, the shards piercing deep into your soul.
It’s almost comical, the speed at which people can turn their backs when the going gets tough. When the comfortable facade cracks, they become ghosts. Those fervent oaths of loyalty and support, they vanish into thin air, leaving you stranded, broken, like discarded furniture in a forgotten shed.
I’d woken up clinging to a sliver of hope, a foolish whisper that maybe, just maybe, it had all been a bad dream. That the love I’d believed in was still there, waiting for me to reach out and grasp it. But no… it was just me, alone in this pre-dawn gloom, wrestling with the jagged pieces of a love that should never have broken
And here I was, left amidst the debris of a shattered dream, trying to make sense of it all. Trying to understand how something so beautiful could crumble so easily. (I shook my head, a bitter smile twisting my lips.)
But maybe… maybe there’s a lesson in all this. Maybe love isn’t about grand promises or sweeping gestures. Perhaps it’s about finding someone who will stand beside you when the storm hits, who will hold your hand when your world crumbles around you. Maybe… maybe true love is about simply being there for each other, even when it’s not easy.
So here I was, waking to another day, another chance to pick up the pieces and start again. And maybe, just maybe, I’d find that kind of love again. A love that wasn’t just a fleeting dream, but a reality worth fighting for.
As I walked into our classroom, a blur of motion slammed into my side, an arm hooking around my neck. Rain. My cousin. Her personal space was a concept she often seemed to find optional.
“My handsome cousin amongst the ugly masses!” she declared, her breath warm and minty against my cheek. The exaggerated flourish of her free hand punctuated the statement.
“Your compliments are truly… something,” I grumbled, clicking my tongue in mock annoyance.
“But it was a compliment, Kuya!”
“That was an insult disguised as one.” I raised a brow, meeting her wide, innocent eyes with a skeptical stare. “What did you even use in your mouth this morning? Your breath smells like a whole pack of gum.”
She recoiled slightly, a flush creeping up her neck. Her eyes flickered rapidly four times, a telltale sign of her self-consciousness. Her hand shot up, and she exhaled into her palm, then brought it to her nose for a quick sniff. A visible wave of relief washed over her.
She practically skipped into the classroom, a newfound bounce in her step. I followed, still slightly bewildered by her sudden self-inspection.
Seriously, what was that? Some super-powered mouthwash?
As I settled into my desk, the class president, a perpetually harried-looking guy named Kevin, stood up. His voice, usually a booming command, was slightly strained as he addressed the room.
“Ma’am Treyna has another meeting this morning,” he announced, adjusting his glasses nervously. “Senior High students are to self-study until further notice.” A collective groan rippled through the room.
“This is getting ridiculous,” I muttered, pushing back my chair.
A hand clamped onto my uniform sleeve, halting my movement. Rain’s brow was furrowed, her usual playful energy replaced by a stern disapproval.
“Where do you think you’re going? We have Ma’am Treyna’s quiz this afternoon. We need to study!”
“Study? You study!” I retorted, yanking my arm free. I forced a burst of speed and bolted out of the room.
“Stock knowledge is my superpower!” I yelled back, flexing my right bicep with a theatrical flourish. I even hiked up my sleeve to my shoulder and planted a kiss on my (admittedly scrawny) muscle.
Rain’s reaction was immediate and dramatic. Her face contorted in a grimace of disgust, as if she’d just swallowed something foul.
“You twig! If you get a low score later, you’re buying my recess tomorrow!” she shouted after me, crossing her arms in vehement disapproval of my bony flex.
“You do realize you’re frowning while saying that? You’re a walking oxymoron!”
“Adios!” I waved a hand dismissively and continued my escape, my footsteps echoing down the empty hallway.
A sudden prickling sensation on the back of my neck sent a shiver down my spine. The air around me seemed to thicken, charged with an almost palpable energy.
It was her. It had to be Nova.
My pace quickened, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. I needed to put distance between us before she could corner me again.
The rooftop was my first refuge. A quick dash to the rooftop, my usual sanctuary, yielded the same result. I leaned against the railing, surveying the campus spread out below. A multitude of students dotted the landscape, clustered on benches, sprawled on the manicured lawns, their laughter and chatter a distant murmur.
I inhaled deeply, the fresh morning air doing little to soothe my frayed nerves.
“Supernatural Club it is, then,” I announced to the empty air. I hurried towards the clubroom, my footsteps echoing in the stairwell.
A few brisk minutes later, I reached the familiar door. Pushing it open, I found Clay the sole occupant, perched on a lone monoblock chair in the vast, cluttered space.
She greeted me with a nod and a small wave.
I sank down onto the cool tiles near her, despite the abundance of empty chairs scattered around the spacious room. Why I chose to sit so close, I couldn't quite explain.
“Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence, oh esteemed member,” Clay quipped, a hint of amusement in her voice.
“Sorry, been… busy,” I mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
“Oh really now…” Her tone dripped with playful skepticism.
“Busted?”
“Affirmative.” She punctuated her agreement with a loud snap of the book she’d been holding, making me jump. “So, spill it. What’s the agenda?” Her gaze sharpened, the earlier levity gone.
My mind blanked for a few seconds, caught off guard by her directness.
> I want to ask you about this ability you have…< The thought hung unspoken in the air.
“Why I joined and haven’t quit yet?” I offered instead, a weak deflection.
Her expression remained serious, her head bobbing in a slow nod.
I ran both hands through my hair, a gesture of frustration and uncertainty.
“What’s up?” she pressed, raising a questioning left eyebrow.
“Nothing,” I replied simply. Her sudden blank stare gave me no clue whether she believed me or not.
She stood up abruptly and walked over to the dusty blackboard that dominated one wall of the clubroom. Reaching into the chalk-filled tray beneath it, she grabbed a piece.
“What are you writing?” I couldn’t contain my curiosity.
“You’ll see,” she said without looking back, the chalk scratching against the aged slate.
A sudden chill permeated the air around me, raising goosebumps on my arms. I felt a strange paralysis grip me as I stared at the words Clay was writing.
[Eyeden Ylliard Hayle - Reincarnation 73 Times, Lyndon Zane - Reincarnation 3 Times, Maryam Lynran - Reincarnation 10 Times. Clayrin Aisfine Ezz - Reincarnation 2 Times. Nova Mie Quinoa - Reincarnation 1]
> Regarding all the club members… what? Nova?<
> Reincarnation? Times? Is this… her ability? For real?<
“What the heck are those numbers all about?” My voice cracked with disbelief. “Why is Nova in there? That weird monster?”
As Clay turned to face me, a chuckle bubbled up from her chest, quickly escalating into full-blown laughter. Tears welled in her eyes as she clutched her stomach, eventually sinking to her knees and then sitting, leaning against the wall beneath the blackboard.
“You’re t-the most c-carefree person to have ever e-existed in this country…” she gasped between fits of laughter. “Hey, calling Nova a monster… if she hears you, you’re dead.”
A cold dread seeped into me, starting from my toes and creeping upwards.
From my seated position, the angle offered a clear view beneath Clay’s short skirt.
Why wasn’t she wearing double shorts? The girls’ skirts here were scandalously short.
I forced my gaze upwards, away from the distracting expanse of her thigh, and tried to focus on her eyes.
Clay’s laughter finally subsided after a few more moments. She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and stood up.
She approached me and sat down again, this time drawing her knees up to her chin, her gaze still alight with amusement. She reached out and ruffled my hair with a playful grin.
I scowled at her, my confusion and unease growing.
“Be careful, you bastard,” she said, her tone suddenly serious despite the lingering mirth in her eyes. “Just because our souls can reincarnate doesn’t mean you have to die many times just to find out what suitable life you want to live in.” She continued to mess with my hair as she spoke.
I gently swatted her hand away.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about!” My voice was calm, but a knot of irritation was tightening in my chest.
She stood up again, taking a deliberate inhale and exhale in front of me.
Her expression turned grave, and she pointed a finger at my chest. “Jow. I’m serious. You’ve died 72 times! The current you is your 73rd life!” She began to explain, her voice low and intense.
I sighed, the weight of her words settling heavily in the already tense atmosphere.
“There’s no way in hell I’ve lived that many lives. If that’s true, why can’t I remember any of it? Sounds impossible, right?” I argued, my disbelief evident in my tone.
“It’s true. That’s my ability. Believe it or not, Jow. When you entered the clubroom that day and said you could see red strings? I believed you then. I went along with Lyndon and Maryam’s disbelief because they can’t understand, because they can’t see what we can see.” She elaborated, her gaze unwavering.
I chewed on my lower lip, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in my head.
Come to think of it, if I can see the red strings of fate, it stands to reason there are others like me, though their abilities might manifest differently.
I wonder, how did this even happen?
Thinking back about the past, I didn’t have this ability when I was in first grade…
A sudden, sharp pain lanced through my head as I tried to recall my childhood. I winced, pressing my fingers to my temples.
“You’re thinking about right now, when you developed the ability to see those red strings, aren’t you?” Clay’s words startled me. My eyes widened, my mouth dropped open, and my breathing hitched.
I stared at her, my jaw slack.
Her eyes held a profound certainty, lending weight to her unbelievable claims.
“Jow, this ability… your ability and Nova’s ability… these are curses.” The amusement vanished from her face, replaced by a somber gravity. “I don’t want to have spoilers in my environment.” She crossed her arms, a troubled look clouding her features.
“Can you believe it? You and I, in our past lives, we were soulmates!”
“What? Wait… hold on…”
“And out of all the people who could have been right for me in those two lives I spent with you… it had to be you, Jow Yl, the guy who abused the feelings and pure heart of Jovenyl, my favorite cousin.”
A sudden wave of weakness washed over me, stealing the strength from my limbs. I lowered my head, my gaze fixed on the worn tiles of the floor.
It was always my weakness, hearing your name. It was always my weakness, hearing from others how much I had failed you, how much I had messed up.
Jovenyl…
“Seems like I hit the jackpot. You reap what you sow.” Clay’s voice was devoid of its earlier levity, a quiet resignation in its place.
“Yeah.” My brain offered a bleak, automatic agreement.
“But even so, what happened between you two is your business. Other people have no right to interfere. What’s more important to me now is how we can help each other remove these curses placed upon us. I feel like an alien with this ability of mine…”
“Yeah…”
“Yeah…”
“Yeah…” I continued to echo her sentiments, the weight of her revelations pressing down on me.
To be continued.