Reborn Before His First Love Jumped

Just because my uncle Keita's first love jumped off a building, and I was the last person to see her before she did. Keita decided I was the one who killed his first love, Louise. He hated me for ten years because of it. Later, on the way to take me to pay respects at Louise's grave, we got into a car accident. Keita threw himself in front of me to shield me. He died from his injuries. With the last of his strength, just before he passed, he said to me: "Sophia, I regret ever taking you in." Keita's parents broke down at the funeral: "You bitch! First you killed your mother, now you've killed my son!" So on a clear night, I walked into the ocean and let it take me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back, three days before Louise jumped. This time, I decided to walk away and let everyone have the life they wanted. I was reborn. Sent back to three days before Louise jumped. The smell of him reached me before the slap did. The crack of his palm against my face snapped me back to my senses. Keita stood in front of me, his expression hard, his hand still raised. "Sophia, what are you saying? I'm your uncle!" "When your mother left you in my care, I raised you like my own. If I've somehow given you the wrong impression—" "Keita, I'm sorry!" I cut him off, ignoring the burning pain spreading across my cheek. Looking at that cool, serious face in front of me — I understood. I was reborn. In my past life, when the car crash hit, Keita had thrown himself around me with everything he had. He died from his injuries. Just before the end, his pale lips parted, and he said each word slowly: "Sophia, I truly regret taking you in." Then his eyes closed forever. I stood there, frozen, his parents' crying filling my ears. Keita's mother stared at his cold body and wept until she couldn't breathe. She pointed a finger in my face and screamed: "You bitch! Wasn't it enough to kill your own mother? You had to kill my son too!" "Give Keita back to me!" Keita's father shoved me hard. I stumbled and fell to the ground. Dead. My Keita, the person I loved most, was dead. "Keita, you've got it wrong!" "I lost a bet at school today. They dared me to confess to the person I cared about most." "You've always been the only one I have, so I just..." Keita blinked, then let out a slow breath. He looked at me, somewhere between exasperated and relieved. "Don't joke around like that again." I nodded, doing my best to look innocent and harmless. "I'm sorry. Does it still hurt?" Keita reached out and gently touched the cheek he'd just slapped. In my past life, I would have leaned into his hand and fished for comfort. But now my heart felt completely still. If anything, I felt a quiet sadness. I would never forget that Keita had used his dying breath to tell me he regretted taking me in. So this time around, I was going to give him the life he actually wanted. "It's fine. I took the joke too far. I won't do it again." I shook my head and stepped back. Keita's hand hung in the air for a moment, then retreated into his pocket. "By the way, this weekend is Louise's birthday. Come with me to drop off a gift." "I'll introduce you to my friend." Just a friend? If I remembered correctly, three days from now was Louise's birthday — and her death anniversary. In my past life, I watched Louise climb over the railing of her terrace and fall. She was gone before she hit the ground. Because I was the last person to see Louise before she died, Keita decided I was responsible for her death. No matter how I tried to explain, he refused to believe me. What he never knew was that Louise had died because her plan had fallen apart — because of me — and she had taken her own life out of shame and rage. In my past life, Louise had invited Keita to her birthday party. At the party, she slipped something into his drink. What she hadn't counted on was that I happened to be resting in a back room. One thing led to another, and I became the one who unknowingly helped Keita through it. By the time Louise rushed to the back room, what was done was done. Knowing her plan had failed, she stormed up to the roof terrace, consumed by humiliation. When I got there, she already had one leg over the railing. "Sophia, you filthy little home-wrecker! You ruined everything between me and Keita — I'll make him hate you for the rest of his life!" The words had barely left her mouth before she let go. When Keita came to, he was convinced I had drugged him and driven Louise to her death. He hated me for ten years after that. No matter how many times I tried to tell him the truth, he refused to hear it. Fine. Then I'd give him what he wanted. "Sorry, Keita, I have a school event this weekend. I'm needed to help out." "I won't be able to make it — please wish Louise a happy birthday from me." I turned and walked out of the study, so I didn't see the shadow that passed across Keita's face.

Back in my room, I finally let myself breathe. Looking at myself — whole, unharmed — my feelings twisted into something I couldn't name. I'd been called a jinx my whole life. They said my birth killed my grandmother. That at three years old, I caused my father's accident on the highway. My mother couldn't take the whispers anymore. She packed us up and left, just the two of us, and came to New York. She worked three jobs so I could have a better life. It didn't take long. The exhaustion wore her down, and one day she simply didn't wake up. I didn't understand what that meant then. I only knew I couldn't wake my mother no matter how hard I tried, and I went two days without eating, alone in that apartment. On the third day, a line of luxury cars pulled up outside our building. A young man in a suit got out and dropped to one knee in front of me. His eyes were full of something that looked like heartbreak. He pulled me — half-starved and barely conscious — into his arms. "Sophia, will you come with me?" It wasn't until I was older that I understood what had happened. My mother was gone. Keita had taken me in. I asked him why. He told me that when he was fifteen, enemies had kidnapped him and left him in the countryside. My mother — a woman with nothing but her bare hands — had pulled him out of that field and saved his life. The Keita family had spent years trying to track her down. By the time they found my hometown, she had already moved away. They followed the trail all the way back to New York. But my mother was already gone. She never got to see anyone return the favor. So Keita took me in. He treated my mother like an older sister, and had me call him Uncle. I never imagined that, on the day he died, he would tell me he regretted it. Maybe I really was the jinx they all said I was. Everyone who got close to me ended up hurt. Then why did fate send me back? Someone like me, a walking curse — I should have just stayed dead. Maybe the only reason I was given a second chance was to finally take my life into my own hands. I stayed at school all the way through Sunday evening. By then, I figured Keita had gone to celebrate Louise's birthday. So I felt safe going home. I didn't expect Keita to be there. He was sprawled on the couch, reeking of alcohol, completely out of it. I walked over and shook his shoulder. Nothing. Strange. Wasn't he supposed to be at Louise's, falling into bed with her? Or had they already... Never mind. None of that was my business anymore. I called for the housekeeper, and together we helped Keita back to his room. I had no idea how much he'd drunk. In my memory, Keita had only ever been this far gone once — the day Louise died. He'd drowned himself in alcohol trying to kill the grief. Louise was his first love. She'd gone abroad to study a few years back. I used to see a photo of the two of them on his nightstand. I glanced over at it now. There was only a lamp there. Nothing else. Keita was a man who loved deeply. After Louise died, he brought me to her grave every year on the anniversary of her death. He would press my head down in front of the headstone and force me to apologize. But it wasn't my fault she died. So why should I apologize? I would rather have died than bow my head, and we stayed at that standoff for ten years. Keita's hatred never faded. Then came another anniversary. The sky was gray and it was raining hard. Keita insisted on making the drive to the cemetery, nearly forty miles away. And then the accident happened. When the crash hit, Keita threw himself over me without thinking. I walked away with minor injuries. He didn't walk away at all. His parents, shattered with grief, threw me out. Now I stood looking at Keita's flushed face, and all I could manage was a bitter smile. I turned to go back to my room. Keita's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. Drunk as he was, his grip was iron. I lost my footing and stumbled into him. Keita half-opened his eyes and pulled me against his chest. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, I could feel the heat radiating off him. "Don't leave me..." I lay there against him, listening to his heartbeat pound like a drum. "I'm sorry..." His grip didn't loosen, and he kept murmuring things that didn't quite make sense. Drunk people are the hardest to reason with. Maybe I just wanted one last moment of his warmth. I stopped fighting and let him hold me. Slowly, the tiredness crept in, and with Keita's arms around me, I fell asleep. It's just a hug, I told myself. Nothing will come of it.

I jolted awake the next morning. The other side of the bed had already gone cold. Keita was long gone. Good. At least we wouldn't have to stare at each other across the sheets. When I was little, Keita used to hold me while I slept sometimes. I was terrified of thunder. One night during a bad storm, I hugged a pillow and hovered outside his bedroom door, working up the nerve to knock. Before I could, a crack of thunder scared the tears right out of me. Keita heard me crying and opened the door immediately. He carried me inside, held me close, and told me I could always come to him when I was scared. Keita was so good to me. He took care of everything, paid attention to everything. He made me feel like the most important person in the world. And because of that, I started to feel things I shouldn't have. I became dependent on him. Possessive, even. And in the end, he used his dying breath to tell me he regretted taking me in. Let it go. That was a different life. This time, I was going to live for myself. Louise's birthday came and went. Nothing happened. Everything stayed quiet. I felt a private wave of relief. As long as Louise was okay, Keita wouldn't get into that accident. And if Keita didn't get into that accident, there was no reason for me to stay. It was time to go. I started researching schools abroad. I wanted to study overseas. Keita was my legal guardian, and some of the paperwork for studying abroad required his signature. Once I had everything quietly prepared, I went to find him in his study. After all these years, I knew his habits by heart. Around nine at night, he usually worked late in the study. I made my way there alone and found the door slightly ajar. Louise's voice drifted through the gap. "Keita, after what happened that night, are you really just going to pretend it didn't?" My heart dropped. I thought back to how Keita had acted that night — the drinking, the things he'd said. Had he and Louise actually... "Louise, calm down. If something did happen, I'll take responsibility. I mean that." Keita's voice was steady. "Right now, Sophia is in her senior year. I don't want anything disrupting her before her SATs." "But she's not even your real niece. Once she turns eighteen, you're not legally obligated to do anything for her." Their voices were tense. Sharp. This was the first time I'd ever heard Keita and Louise argue, and it was about me. Should I have been grateful? Keita was willing to keep me around until I turned eighteen. "She turns eighteen in two months. By then, I'll find a reasonable way to send her off." My chest went cold. Even in this life — even though I'd already let him go — he was still going to get rid of me for Louise's sake. If that was how it was always going to end, then I'd rather be the one to leave first. He wouldn't need to bother finding a polite excuse. I'd take care of it myself.

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