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 19

“I have something I want to confess to you,” Ichika said.

Wait… what? A confession? No, hold on!

Earlier, when I asked her to take the middle school entrance exam with me, she called me a coward, and that was when I became certain—Ichika probably likes me.

Even now, I still don’t understand what part of me she could possibly like, but if anyone was going to confess, it should have been me…

“Yasushi… I’ve loved you since our previous life.”

And there it was.

The joy of being confessed to by Ichika, the girl I love, was overwhelming. It completely drowned out the frustration of being beaten to it.

“I-I’ve loved you since our previous life, too!”

They say a confession is just a way to confirm mutual feelings.

Earlier, I hesitated because I was afraid of being rejected, but now, I didn’t hold back—I wanted Ichika to know how I felt.

But wait… since our previous life?

“…Hang on. Ichika, do you also remember your past life?”

“Yeah. You didn’t notice?”

Nope, I didn’t.

Sure, Ichika always seemed more mature than her age. She didn’t have that typical childish impulsiveness, and the books she read beside me were far more advanced than what most elementary schoolers would choose.

But I’d just assumed she was an early bloomer.

“Wait, when did you die? And how did you come back? For that matter, what was your past life like…? No, hold on! What did you mean by ‘you’ve loved me since our previous life’?”

Ichika’s Perspective

There’s no one else as earnest and unwavering as Yasushi.

That’s the impression I formed of him back in fifth grade, when we ended up in the same children’s club once a week.

But to be honest, at first, I didn’t like him much.

With my innate skill [Keen Insight], I’ve always been able to see through people’s emotions and discern the truth behind things—even as a child in my previous life.

But Yasushi was different. He was impossible to read. He seemed to view most people as insignificant, like pebbles on the roadside. To me, he was unsettling.

Looking back, though, maybe I didn’t dislike him.

Maybe I was just jealous.

In my previous life, when I was around ten, my natural perceptiveness led me to uncover my father’s infidelity. That discovery tore my family apart.

My father resented me, my mother was constantly angry, and our home became a hostile environment.

Even though I didn’t particularly enjoy ballet, I kept doing it because my mother insisted. I tried so hard to be loved, to earn approval, but it was never enough.

Meanwhile, Yasushi seemed carefree, like nothing could bother him. I think that’s what I envied most.

Then we entered sixth grade, and I watched as Yasushi became the target of bullying from classmates—and even the teacher.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think, Serves him right.

Even the girl known for her strong sense of justice didn’t defend him. With the teacher leading the bullying, everyone else felt safe to pile on.

Most people would have broken.

Imagine being isolated by your classmates, with even your teacher as the ringleader. Anyone else would have stopped coming to school.

But Yasushi didn’t care.

The bullying started with silent treatment, but Yasushi brushed it off as if to say, “I don’t need to talk to you anyway.”

During breaks, he happily studied alone. When someone tried the typical elementary school tactic of, “If you don’t do this, we’re not friends anymore!” he would respond with, “Wait, we were friends?”

When ignoring him didn’t work, the bullies escalated to physical violence—hitting him, tripping him, destroying his belongings.

I thought about stepping in, but I knew better. Stopping the bullying would have just made me the next target. So, I stayed silent.

Then one day, Yasushi said something that shocked everyone:

“I don’t want to go to middle school with you guys, so I’m taking the entrance exam.”

From that point on, Yasushi stopped caring about anyone else entirely.

He used “studying for the exam” as an excuse to ignore the teacher’s lessons and work on his own. He even protested the daily jump rope practice, getting it reduced to every other day.

Despite his defiance of the teacher, he never retaliated against his classmates who bullied him.

It didn’t take long for people to start gravitating toward him.

The class troublemakers, in particular, found his defiance refreshing and amusing.

I hated that teacher too, so I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction watching Yasushi constantly outwit her.

Even I, someone who rarely spoke about others, found myself saying, “Yasushi is amazing at studying, isn’t he?”

Before I knew it, Yasushi had become the center of the class.

And before I knew it, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Even with [Keen Insight], I see far more than I’d like to.

I’m constantly aware of people’s malice—whether it’s my strained family relationships or the petty social hierarchies of childhood, with their endless competitions for who’s friends with whom.

It weighed on me every day.

But Yasushi didn’t let any of that affect him. He was single-minded in his pursuit of studying, and seeing him face everything with such determination gave me courage.

Looking back, I think I already liked Yasushi at that time.

But the guilt of having been part of the group that bullied him, combined with the fact that I wasn’t the type to actively engage with people, meant we didn’t talk much. Eventually, we went to different middle schools and drifted apart.

After that, my life became incredibly dull.

My parents divorced, and my mother frequently took out her frustrations on me. A friend confessed to a senior I secretly liked, destroying our friendship.

It was all so ordinary—common struggles, common problems. But each time something bad happened, I found myself wondering, What would Yasushi do in this situation?

I wanted to know. I wanted to see him again.

But I didn’t know his address. And even if I did, we hadn’t been close enough for me to muster the courage to suddenly visit him.

Over time, the courage Yasushi once gave me faded.

When I finally worked up the nerve to help a bullied classmate, I became the new target. Eventually, I stopped going to school.

After a year or two of being a shut-in, my sedentary lifestyle caught up with me. One day, I slipped on the stairs of a pedestrian bridge and fell to my death.

It was a boring life, through and through.

So, when I woke up as a preschooler again, I felt nothing but despair.

Why did I have to relive another life with those same parents?

Then one day, I happened to see a familiar boy at the park while my mother was dragging me along.

“Wait… Is that Yasushi? Why is he here? Well, I guess I used to see him around on the way to school, so maybe he lives nearby?”

Before I realized it, my feet had carried me over to him.

“What are you doing?”

“P-Pull-ups…”

That one sentence was enough for me to figure it out—Yasushi was a reincarnator, just like me.

The Yasushi I knew in my previous life was all about studying. He wasn’t bad at physical activity, but he didn’t enjoy it either.

So, this time it’s strength training, huh?

Even now, his determined, clear eyes haven’t changed a bit. He’s the same Yasushi I admired, and I still like him just as much—no, even more.

(Though I have to admit, I was shocked when he said he’d try a backflip and ended up landing on his head.)

But as luck would have it, that incident led to us becoming childhood friends.

And over time, I fell even deeper for him.

Maybe it’s because having Yasushi nearby kept me from being exposed to malice. Or perhaps it’s because Yasushi frequently visited my house, which stopped my father from cheating in this life.

More than anything, though, it’s Yasushi himself.

Even with my [Keen Insight]—which lets me see far more than I want to—Yasushi remains pure, straightforward, and almost painfully honest.

He throws himself into self-discipline with unwavering focus. And yet, every so often, he shows me little moments of affection, clear enough even for someone like me to notice.

Most people wouldn’t pick up on it.

I wasn’t entirely sure myself. For all I knew, his feelings for me could have been just familial affection for a childhood friend.

I was terrified of being rejected—if he’d said, “I only see you as a friend,” I might have been crushed.

But when Yasushi asked me to take the entrance exam together, I was certain.

He likes me. And now, the Yasushi I already liked so much has made me fall for him even harder!

So, I confessed.

I told him I’ve liked him since our previous life.

I plan to tell him about my past life little by little.

More importantly, I want to learn about his past life, especially the parts after we lost touch in middle school.

For now, though, I can say this: after 24 years across two lives, I finally have my first boyfriend.

I became Yasushi’s girlfriend.

If I had one complaint, it would be this:

“I wish I’d confessed in my first life.”

If I had, my first life would have been brighter, more exciting.

But even that small regret pales in comparison to the joy of being with Yasushi now.