The class had organized a weekend picnic in the countryside—a perfect opportunity for the leads’ relationship to blossom. For my part, these group outings had always been something to sabotage. In the past, driven by jealousy and insecurity, I’d made sure Kathleen and Johnny were never left alone.

This time was different. I brought my new sketchpad, planning to find a quiet corner and paint. Jeremy didn’t show—too much trouble, he said—and I was perfectly happy with the peace and quiet.

At the picnic site, everyone split into groups. Kathleen, as class president, naturally became the center of attention. With gentle efficiency, she directed the others while Andrew hovered at her side like a loyal knight. Johnny was there too, quietly helping with the chores, his gaze drifting unconsciously toward Kathleen.

See? The pull of the plot was just that strong. Even with me—the biggest variable—choosing to step back, he was still instinctively drawn to his “light.”

I found a spot by a stream, far from the crowd, set up my easel, and lost myself in painting. The sun was warm, the breeze gentle, the stream babbling softly. From a distance floated the laughter and chatter of my classmates. It was the most peaceful weekend I’d had in five lifetimes.

But the tranquility didn’t last.

A sharp cry pierced the air. I looked up just in time to see Kathleen, on a slope not far away, lose her footing. She was about to fall.

Andrew and Johnny were the closest to her. They lunged forward at the same instant.

Andrew caught Kathleen, steadying her. Johnny, on instinct, threw his arm out as a shield.

She didn’t fall, but Johnny’s arm caught on a thorny bush, leaving a long, bloody gash.

“Johnny, are you okay?” Kathleen asked, her voice shaky, her face etched with concern.

“I’m fine,” he said, shaking his head. His gaze fixed on her with a tenderness and protectiveness I knew all too well.

My heart gave a sharp, needle-like twinge—then the pain faded almost instantly.

See, Leah? That’s his instinct. No matter how much you do for him, Kathleen will always come first in his heart.

I turned back to my canvas and kept painting, as if nothing had happened.

A little while later, Johnny approached. He stood behind me, watching my work in silence for a long moment.

“Leah,” he finally said, his voice rough.

“What is it?” I didn’t turn around.

“My hand… it’s hurt.” He held out the bloody scratch, his tone carrying a hint of something almost like a plea—as if seeking comfort.

In the past, I would have been frantic, scrambling for the first-aid kit to bandage him up. Now, I just gave it a casual glance.

“Oh. Go find Kathleen. She brought a kit.”

He went rigid.

“You… you won’t help me?”

Setting down my brush, I finally turned and met his wounded gaze. “Johnny, why should I help you?” I asked, each word deliberate. “You got hurt protecting Kathleen. Shouldn’t *she* be the one most concerned about you?”

His face went deathly pale.

“I… I just…”

“You’re just used to it,” I finished for him. “Used to me giving everything for you, used to me always putting you first. So you think that even with your heart set on someone else, I should still orbit around you like before. Right?”

He had no answer. He could only stare at me, stunned.

I stood up, packed away my easel, and walked past him without a second look.

“Johnny, don’t come looking for me anymore. We’re not friends.”

In that moment, I saw it clearly—something in his clear eyes shattered.

For days after the camping trip, Johnny kept his distance.

I didn’t mind. Those days slipped by in easy peace, filled with jokes and Jeremy’s company. He had a tough exterior, but underneath, he was surprisingly soft.

Quietly, he remembered I hated cilantro. He’d buy me hot milk tea when I had cramps. And when a stray basketball hit me, he exploded—right there in front of the whole school.

“Leah is under my protection!” he’d shouted, his voice cutting through the courtyard. “Anyone who touches her again will regret it.”

That day, he stepped in front of me, his silver hair catching the sun like a knight’s helm. After that, the way our classmates looked at us shifted. The whispers began.

I ignored them. Jeremy couldn’t have cared less.

We were friends. Just friends. That was enough.

Johnny, however, clearly thought otherwise.

That afternoon, he blocked my path home.

He looked thinner, dark circles faint under his eyes. His gaze was complicated—a dense, unbreakable fog.

“Are you with Jeremy now?” he asked bluntly, his voice tight.

“What’s it to you?”

“It is to me!” He stepped forward, grabbing my wrist with a force that surprised me. “Leah, you can’t be with him. He’s not a good person.”

I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

“Whether he’s good or not, I’ll be the judge of that. What right do you have to question me, Johnny? As my ex? Or just a classmate?”

My words made him flinch. His hold loosened.

Right. We were nothing.

I wrenched my hand free and looked at him coldly. “My life isn’t your business.”

I turned to leave.

“Leah!” Desperation edged his voice. “Is it because of Kathleen…? I can keep away from her. From now on, I’ll only be good to you. Just… come back. Please?”

I stopped but didn’t turn.

*Only be good to me?*

I’d heard that promise for four lifetimes. I was done with it.

“Johnny, it’s too late.”

I walked away and didn’t look back.

I thought that would be the end of it. That he’d finally let go.

I never expected a single, sudden event would shove everything into an irreversible fall.

The class fund went missing.

Five hundred dollars, to be exact.

The last person who’d handled the money was Johnny—he’d been in charge of collection. With his background—a drunk, violent father and a bedridden mother—everyone agreed he had the strongest motive.

Almost instantly, the rumors swirled. Suspicion and accusation surged toward him like a tide.

He stood alone at the center of it, defenseless. The scene was identical to my past memories.

I knew the truth. The money was stolen by the usual bullies who picked on him. I even knew where the evidence was—wedged in the lining of the trash can at the back of the room.

In every cycle before, I’d been the first to defend him. I’d fought to find the proof and clear his name.

This time, I just sat at my desk and watched, cold and detached.

I was waiting.

Waiting for the right moment—one that would finally set me free.

Johnny was called to the homeroom teacher’s office. He came out with red-rimmed eyes.

Instinctively, he looked at me. His eyes held helplessness, a silent plea.

He wanted me to believe him. To help him. Like I always had.

I met his gaze and slowly shook my head.

The light in his eyes died.

After school, I “happened” to find the crumpled bills in the trash can—and was “coincidentally” spotted by the student on duty.

The truth came out. Johnny was cleared.

Everything went flawlessly. No one suspected a thing.

As I was leaving, Johnny caught up to me.

He grabbed my arm, his grip bone-crushing.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” He stared, his eyes bloodshot.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied calmly.

“You knew where the money was! Why didn’t you speak up sooner? You wanted to see me humiliated—wanted everyone to doubt me!” His voice rose, nearly a shout.

Passing students turned to stare.

Looking at his flushed, agitated face, I suddenly smiled.

“Yes. I did it on purpose.” I leaned close, my whisper for his ear alone. “How does it feel, Johnny? To be falsely accused?”

His whole body jolted. His pupils shrank to pinpoints.

He stared in disbelief, lips trembling as he forced out the words.

“…The fourth time… the wedding… the sleeping pills…”

My smile froze.

He was looking at me, but the confusion from before was gone—washed away by a flood of pain and regret.

“I remember… Leah, I remember everything.”

“Our child… the one we never…”

He reached for my face, but I slapped his hand away hard.

“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, trembling with fury and fear.

How could he remember?

The System said memories were wiped clean with every reset!

**[ALERT! ALERT! Target data anomaly! Memory recall phenomenon detected! System analyzing cause…]**

A sharp alarm screamed in my mind, but I couldn’t focus.

I was staring at the man I’d loved for four lifetimes—and hated for just as long.

His memories had awakened.

He remembered all my pain, all my suffering.

And now, I could no longer easily be rid of him.

A tidal wave of panic seized my heart.