In this Second Chance at Life, where I can see skills as clear as day, everything feels like a breeze. And to make it even better, I’m spending my days joyfully with my First Love. - Chapter 18

In my previous life, during my first time as a grade schooler, I was what you’d call a bookworm. If I had any free time, I’d read textbooks or study.

I genuinely loved tests back then.

The more I studied, the more knowledge I gained, and the results were clearly reflected in my scores.

Studying for the sake of test scores might have been tough for some, but I had confidence in my focus. Repetitive tasks, like writing the same characters or solving problems repeatedly, didn’t bother me at all. In fact, I enjoyed them.

However, I struggled with building relationships.

Even now—or rather, as I became a working adult in my previous life—I realized I wasn’t great at interacting with people. Over time, I learned to make compromises, but that wasn’t the case back then.

In those days, I was bullied.

People scribbled on my textbooks, drop-kicked me from behind, tripped me to make me fall—it was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was relentless.

Even the teacher indirectly encouraged the bullying with certain remarks.

I hated the thought of going to the same middle school as those kids. Confident in my ability to perform well on tests, I decided to take an entrance exam for another school.

However, two months later, the bullying suddenly stopped.

Maybe it was because someone in class said,
“Sashima-kun is really smart, isn’t he? I heard he got an AA rating for his first-choice school. That’s amazing!”

Or perhaps it was because, during the class dodgeball tournament, my slow, lazy spin throw managed to knock out the strongest kid in the opposing class.

Or maybe it was because I protested loudly against the teacher’s daily jump rope practice, arguing that it cut into my study time. (In the end, the schedule was reduced to every other day.)

I don’t know the exact reason.

It’s not like I changed in any significant way. By the time I noticed, the bullying had naturally faded away.

I was probably too “active” to be an easy target for bullying anymore.

After that, life in grade school became surprisingly enjoyable.

I had fun playing with my classmates during lunch breaks, playing soccer after school, or trying out the latest games.

For a brief moment, I felt like I was just a normal kid, living a normal childhood.

Amidst those happy times, as I expanded my circle of friends, I fell in love for the first time.

The girl was Ichika Kobayashi, a classmate.

At first, I wasn’t interested in my classmates at all. I barely paid attention to anyone.

But as I started interacting more with others, I noticed her.

And I thought, Wow, she’s really cute.

Before I knew it, I found myself watching her from afar.

We ended up sitting next to each other and started talking occasionally.

When I got to know her a bit better, I realized she was serious, kind, and straightforward. At the same time, she was approachable and easy to talk to.

But Ichika wasn’t the type to initiate conversations, and I wasn’t either.

So, while we talked occasionally as seatmates, we didn’t go out of our way to interact otherwise.

Looking back, my feelings for her at the time could be summed up in one phrase: I liked her because she was pretty.

I barely knew her personality, and we rarely talked. Yet, I dreamed about her every night and watched her all day—a hopelessly one-sided crush.

I thought about confessing my feelings, but I lacked the courage.

Time passed, and before I realized it, the school year was over.

I didn’t particularly want to part ways with my classmates, but since I enjoyed studying, I ended up passing the entrance exam and getting accepted into another school.

I liked Ichika, but the idea of her finding out embarrassed me to no end.

Still, I couldn’t think of any other reason not to go, so I went with the flow and enrolled in a different school. After that, I lost all contact with her.

It was an ordinary, uneventful memory of my first love.

I don’t regret taking the exam or going to that school. Studying with people of similar ability was enjoyable, and I made some good friends.

But I do have lingering regrets.

As I grew older—through middle school, high school, college, and even into adulthood—my feelings faded.

But occasionally, I still wonder:

What if I’d confessed back then?
What if I’d asked her to take the entrance exam with me?

Maybe my life would have been brighter and more colorful.

My previous life, all 26 years of it, had no major events.

I drifted through life, progressing from school to school. By my second year of high school, I hit a plateau in my studies, lost motivation, and gave up.

The university I ended up attending was a last resort. I failed so many classes that I eventually dropped out.

I entered a black company, where I spent my days typing text endlessly.

Before I knew it, I’d worked myself to death from overwork.

With only one or two friends throughout middle and high school, I never experienced the drama of complicated friendships.

And I never had a girlfriend.

In this life, just like in my previous one, I’ve been obsessively focused—except now, it’s on strength training instead of studying.

Strength training, like studying in my past life, might lose its appeal someday. If my stats ever stop improving, I might get bored and quit.

For instance, in my previous life, I regretted not making more friends or improving my social skills. I often fantasized about living a “social butterfly” life if I ever got the chance to start over.

But now that I’ve been reborn, I’ve ended up thinking, Who needs friends? Strength training is way better!

Ultimately, people don’t change—not in life, not even after death or reincarnation.

The adults who say, “I wish I’d studied harder,” probably hated studying to begin with. Even if they were reborn, they wouldn’t suddenly enjoy it.

If they truly wanted to study, they’d just start now—after all, it’s never too late to learn.

At least my dad in my previous life started studying for the tax accountant exam in his sixties.

However, there’s one thing that’s different this time around.

In this life, I truly know Ichika.

We’ve spent so much time together since we were little—playing, talking, and simply being around each other.

I’ve probably spent more than half of my life so far with her.

So now, it’s not just her appearance that I like.

It’s her personality, her kindness, her charm, and the bond I’ve built with her through all the time we’ve shared.

I can confidently say this now, without a shred of doubt:

I like Ichika!
I don’t want to go to a different school and be separated from her!

On our usual walk home, Ichika held my hand as always, leading me along the familiar path.

But this time, I mustered the courage to speak up.

“I-Ichika! Let’s take the middle school entrance exam together!”

“…Coward.”

“W-What!?”

Okay, fine. She wasn’t wrong—I knew it myself.

But if I flat-out told her, “I like you!” and she responded with something like, “I only see you as a childhood friend,” I’d probably break down crying, despite my age.

This is the best I can manage right now.

But wait… does she know how I feel?

She does have [Keen Insight], so it wouldn’t be surprising if she’s figured it out…

And if she called me a coward knowing how I feel, does that mean there’s still a chance?

If so, maybe I really should confess properly…

“Well, whatever.”

Ichika smiled at me teasingly, her tone light.

“Let’s work hard on the entrance exam together, okay?”

“Y-Yeah…!”

As I stumbled over my words, Ichika laughed softly, her expression playful yet kind.

Then, she looked me in the eye and said:

“I have something I want to confess to you, too.”