Ring!

The bell echoed through the classroom, signaling the end of the school day. Chairs scraped against the floor as students hurriedly packed their bags, their chatter filling the room before spilling out into the hallway. Soon, the classroom was empty—except for one boy still seated by the window, his gaze fixed on the world outside.

The teacher, Mrs. Adler, set down her chalk and sighed. Her shoulders relaxed as the formal mask of an educator slipped away, replaced by a softer, more maternal expression. She glanced at the boy, her dark eyes filled with concern—and a hint of mischief.

"Rae," she called gently, her voice carrying a warmth that only he seemed to bring out in her. "School's over. It's time to leave."

Rae didn't respond immediately. His dark brown eyes remained locked on the horizon, where the sun was beginning its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and gold. The light streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on his face and highlighting the faint shadows under his eyes. He looked... tired. More than usual.

"Mrs. Adler," he said finally, his voice low and serious, "can we talk before I go?"

She hesitated, her brow furrowing. Rae wasn't one to ask for help lightly. Over the past two years, she'd come to know him as a quiet, introspective student—someone who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders but rarely let it show. When he did speak, it was always something worth listening to.

"Of course," she said, her tone softening further. She grabbed a chair and carried it to the back of the room, setting it down across from him. The legs scraped against the floor, the sound sharp in the otherwise silent classroom. She sat down, crossing her legs and leaning forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees.

"Little Rae is having issues again and needs my help?" she teased, a small smile playing on her lips. "How rare."

Rae sighed, running a hand through his messy black hair. "This isn't the time for jokes, Mrs. Adler."

Her smile widened, and she leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. "Oh? What's the matter? Did someone break your heart? Or are you finally admitting you have a crush on me?"

Rae's cheeks flushed, and he quickly averted his gaze. Mrs. Adler was, admittedly, a sight to behold. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her figure—curvy and well-proportioned—was accentuated by the formal suit she wore. The white shirt beneath her blazer seemed to struggle against the buttons, threatening to give way at any moment. It wasn't hard to see why the male students often referred to her as "mommy" behind her back.

"Mrs. Adler," Rae said, his voice tinged with exasperation, "you're too old for me."

She laughed, a rich, melodic sound that filled the room. "Too old? Oh, Rae, you wound me. Are you saying you'd consider it if I were younger? How bold of you!"

"Tch. I'm not a pervert like the others," he muttered, though his ears were still red. "Besides, we have something important to discuss."

Mrs. Adler's expression softened, and she leaned forward again, her teasing demeanor giving way to genuine concern. "What is it now? Is it the bullying again?"

Rae shook his head, his gaze drifting back to the window. The sunlight caught his eyes, giving them an almost otherworldly glow. For a moment, Mrs. Adler thought she saw something flicker in them—a faint, unnatural light that sent a shiver down her spine. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"No," he said quietly. "It's something else."

The room fell silent, save for the faint rustling of the curtains as a cool breeze swept through the open window. Mrs. Adler waited, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't sure why, but she felt a sense of dread building within her—a premonition that whatever Rae was about to say would change everything.

After what felt like an eternity, Rae finally spoke. His voice was calm, almost detached, as if he were discussing the weather rather than something life-altering.

"I'm dying, Mrs. Adler."

The classroom was silent, save for the faint rustling of the curtains as the cool evening breeze swept through the open window. Rae's words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. Mrs. Adler stared at him, her dark eyes wide with disbelief. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. It was as if the world had stopped, and all she could hear was the echo of his voice.

"I'm dying, Mrs. Adler."

She shook her head, her hands gripping the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. "No," she whispered, her voice trembling. "No, that's not possible. You're young, you're healthy—you can't just—"

"I have a rare condition," Rae interrupted, his voice calm but tinged with a sadness that made her heart ache. "It's called Erythrocytic Degeneration Syndrome. My red blood cells are... breaking down. There's no cure. I've known for a while, but I didn't want to upset anyone by telling them. I only told you because... we're close enough."

His words hit her like a punch to the gut. She wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but the look in his eyes stopped her. There was no fear, no desperation—just resignation. He had already accepted his fate.

"No," she said again, her voice rising slightly. "There has to be some way. A treatment, a specialist—something! We'll figure this out, Rae. You're not alone."

He smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes. Instead, he looked up at the ceiling, as if searching for answers in the cracks of the old plaster. "I don't have much time left," he said softly. "A few months, maybe less. I just... didn't want to go without telling you."

Mrs. Adler's breath hitched, and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back, but it was no use. They spilled over, tracing hot paths down her cheeks. "Rae," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I... I can't—"

Before she could finish, she stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. In two quick steps, she was beside him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Rae stiffened at first, surprised by the sudden contact, but then he relaxed, his arms slowly wrapping around her. He buried his face in her shoulder, his breath hitching as he fought back his own tears.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice muffled against her blazer. "I didn't want to make you cry."

She shook her head, her hands clutching the back of his uniform. "Don't apologize," she said fiercely. "Don't you dare apologize for this."

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, the silence broken only by the sound of her quiet sobs. Finally, she pulled back, her hands resting on his shoulders as she looked into his eyes. "How much?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Rae frowned, confused. "What?"

"How much time do you have left?"

He hesitated, then looked away. "A few months," he repeated. "Maybe less."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Mrs. Adler's hands fell to her sides, and she sank back into her chair, her eyes red and her hands clutching the fabric of her skirt. She felt numb, as if the world had shifted beneath her feet and left her unsteady.

Rae stood slowly, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. "I should go," he said quietly. "Thank you... for everything."

She didn't respond. She couldn't. All she could do was watch as he walked out of the classroom, the door closing softly behind him.

---

The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet streets. Rae walked slowly, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his blazer slung over one shoulder. The weight of his situation pressed down on him, heavier than the backpack he carried. He was 16 years old—soon to be 17 in two days—and yet he felt like he had lived a lifetime.

As he passed by a small lake, he stopped, his eyes drawn to the shimmering water. The surface reflected the fading sunlight, creating a mosaic of gold and orange. He sat on the grassy bank, his knees pulled to his chest as he stared at the water.

Memories flooded his mind, unbidden and relentless. He thought of Sarah, his childhood friend, whose laughter had once been the brightest thing in his life. They had been inseparable, two halves of a whole. But that had all changed on a rainy afternoon in their first year of middle school.

---

They had been walking home from school, laughing and joking as they always did. Sarah had been teasing him about his messy hair, and he had playfully shoved her in response. They were so caught up in their banter that neither of them noticed the car speeding toward them.

It happened in an instant. One moment, Sarah was laughing, and the next, she was shoving him out of the way. He hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him. When he looked up, it was too late. The car screeched to a halt, but not before it struck her.

"Sarah...Sarah...! No...!"

He could remember himself rushing at her body, his hands covered in her blood.

He remembered the sound—the sickening thud of metal against flesh. He remembered the way she had crumpled to the ground, her body limp and lifeless. He remembered the blood, so much blood, pooling beneath her.

"Somebody...HELP!"

As people gathered around and the emergency authorities were called, he remembered himself falling unconscious slightly after.

And he remembered the accusations that followed when he woke up. His parents, his classmates, even the teachers—they all blamed him. "If only you hadn't been so reckless," they said. "If only you had been paying attention."

The guilt had consumed him, eating away at him until there was nothing left but a hollow shell. He had blamed himself, too. Every day, he replayed the scene in his mind, wondering what he could have done differently. Wondering why he hadn't been the one to die instead.

The words "She died because of you!" of Sarah's mother echoed in his head as he remembered her crying and shouting at him. His own mother and father, looking at him disappointed.

An image of his 13 year old self came to his mind, sitting in the corner of a room, curled up like a ball, crying. His parents rarely speak to him after the incident.

The two years of torment from guilt, bullying, neglection from his parents, everything hit him. And at the end, an image of Sarah smiling brightly came to his mind.

---

Rae's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. "Maybe I deserve this," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustling of the leaves. "Maybe this is my punishment for not being able to save her."

The wind picked up, sending a chill through him. He looked up at the sky, where the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. The world felt so vast, so indifferent, and he felt so small in comparison.

"Sarah," he murmured, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

---

As Rae continued walking, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a scream. He froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Ahead of him, he saw three figures—his bullies—cornering a high school girl. She was struggling against them, her voice trembling as she pleaded with them to let her go.

Rae's blood boiled. He recognized the girl—she was a first-year, new to the school. And he recognized the bullies, too. They had tormented him for years, but this... this was a new low.

Without thinking, he dropped his blazer and sprinted toward them. "Hey!" he shouted, his voice sharp and commanding. "Get away from her!"

The bullies turned, their faces twisting into sneers when they saw him. "Well, well," the main bully, Hiroshi, said with a smirk. "Look who it is. The gloomy loser thinks he's a hero now."

Rae ignored him, stepping between the girl and the bullies. "Stay behind me," he said to her, his voice low but firm.

Hiroshi laughed, cracking his knuckles. "You always are a weakling, Rae. So what makes you think you can take on the three of us?"

Rae's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. Instead, he lunged at Hiroshi, his fist connecting with the bully's jaw. The other two rushed at him, but Rae moved with a speed and precision that surprised even himself. He dodged their blows, countering with strikes of his own.

For a moment, it seemed like he might actually win. But then, a violent cough wracked his body, and he doubled over, clutching his chest. Hiroshi seized the opportunity, landing a punch that sent Rae sprawling to the ground.

"Pathetic," Hiroshi spat, kicking him in the ribs. "You always were a loser, Rae. You deserve everything that's coming to you. You deserve it all...you fucking murderer."

Rae looked up at him, his vision blurring. "I always blamed myself for Sarah's death," he said, his voice hoarse. "That's why I let you beat me up every day. Because I felt like I deserved it."

Hiroshi's face twisted with rage. "You're right. You do deserve it. You know...I always was jealous of you and Sarah. Before you, me and Sarah were inseparable. But you just had to come in middle of us and steal her away from me! And what did that lead to?! Her death! You fucking scum! You got her killed! Which is why..."

Before Rae could react, Hiroshi pulled out a knife. The blade glinted in the fading light, and Rae's eyes widened. He tried to move, but his body wouldn't obey.

"Hey Hiroshi, what are you doing...?" One of the other bully muttered with fear in his eyes.

The knife pierced in Rae's abdomen. The girl screamed horrified of the events as Rae's body fell down, blood gushing out uncontrollably.

---

Mrs. Adler, who had been walking home, saw the scene unfold from a distance. Her heart stopped when she saw Rae collapse, blood pooling beneath him. "Rae!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the empty street.

She ran toward him, her heels clicking against the pavement, but she was too late. The bullies had already fled, leaving Rae lying in a growing pool of blood. The girl he had saved was on the phone, her voice trembling as she called for help.

Kaelan and Hannah arrived moments later, their faces pale with shock. Hannah dropped to her knees beside Rae, her hands pressing against the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. "Rae, stay with us," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please, stay with us."

Mrs. Adler stood frozen, her hands clutching her chest as tears streamed down her face. The sound of sirens filled the air, but it felt distant, like a dream. All she could see was Rae, his face pale and his eyes closed, as the life slowly drained out of him. As Rae's eyes fully shut, the sun set with it as the darkness of the night set in.

Kaelan who was frozen in one place, looked at the girl. "Who...?! Who did this?!"

The girl was taken aback and already scared trembled in fear. "H...Hiroshi."

Kaelan's eyes widened as he looked at a certain direction before screaming.

"HIROSHIII!!!"

---

Far beyond the confines of the world, in the vast expanse of space between worlds, two colossal spheres hovered on the brink of collision. One was a world of light and life, vibrant and teeming with energy. The other was a world of shadows and mystery, its surface swirling with dark, unknown forces.

Between them, suspended in the void, was a figure—a young man, unconscious and floating weightlessly. His dark hair drifted around him like a halo, and his face was serene, as if he were merely asleep. Around him, the fabric of reality seemed to warp and twist, as if the very act of his presence was bending the rules of existence.

This was the Collision, a rare and catastrophic event that occurred once every thousand years. It was a merging of worlds, a convergence of destinies, and the birth of something entirely new. And at its center was Rae Yushiguro, the boy who had died in one world only to be reborn in another.

As the two worlds drew closer, their energies intertwined, creating a brilliant cascade of light and shadow. The figure in the void stirred, his eyelids fluttering as if he were on the verge of waking. And then, with a burst of radiant energy, the worlds collided—and Rae's new life began.

---

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with tension and the faint scent of antiseptic. A woman lay on the bed, her face pale and drenched in sweat as she gripped the sheets with trembling hands. Her husband stood nearby, his face a mask of helplessness as he watched his wife endure the pain of childbirth.

"Push, Mrs. Valehart! Just a little more!" the doctor urged, his voice calm but firm.

Mrs. Valehart let out a guttural scream, her body trembling with exertion. The nurses hovered around her, offering words of encouragement and wiping the sweat from her brow. The room was a flurry of activity, but for Mrs. Valehart, everything seemed to blur together as she focused on the task at hand.

With one final, agonizing push, the room was filled with the sound of a newborn's cry. The baby's wails were loud and insistent, a stark contrast to the tense silence that had preceded them. The doctor held the infant up, a small, fragile bundle of life, and smiled.

"It's a boy," he announced, his voice filled with relief and joy.

Mrs. Valehart collapsed back onto the bed, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her husband rushed to her side, his eyes filled with tears as he kissed her forehead. "You did it," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You did it, my love."

The nurses quickly cleaned the baby and wrapped him in a soft, white blanket before placing him in his mother's arms. Mrs. Valehart looked down at her son, her heart swelling with a love so profound it brought fresh tears to her eyes. The baby's cries softened as he nestled against her chest, his tiny fingers curling around hers.

"He's perfect," she murmured, her voice trembling. "Absolutely perfect."

But as she gazed into her son's face, something felt... different. His eyes, a deep, soulful brown, seemed to hold a weight far beyond his newborn innocence. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of recognition in them, as if he were looking not at her, but through her—as if he were seeing something far beyond the walls of the delivery room.

The moment passed as quickly as it came, and the baby let out a soft coo, his tiny lips curling into a faint smile. Mrs. Valehart shook her head, dismissing the strange feeling as a trick of her exhausted mind. She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her son's forehead.

"Welcome to the world, little one," she whispered.