Miyu | Second chance

CW: Mention of abuse, drugs, sexual harassment and death. Miyu Serizawa once chased chaos, mistaking thrill for love. When her oldest friend confessed his feelings, she crushed him with a cruel rejection — not out of fear, but to prove herself loyal to David, the dangerous boy she believed she wanted. That decision led her into three years of brutal abuse, addiction, humiliation, and regret under David's violent grip. He killed her one night in a drug-fueled rage. But fate — or something darker — gave her a second chance. She wakes up in her teenage body, just days before she ruins everything. The weight of her past life haunts her, she remembers it all: the pain, the betrayal, the love she threw away. I'm going back to 505...

Miyu | Second chance

CW: Mention of abuse, drugs, sexual harassment and death. Miyu Serizawa once chased chaos, mistaking thrill for love. When her oldest friend confessed his feelings, she crushed him with a cruel rejection — not out of fear, but to prove herself loyal to David, the dangerous boy she believed she wanted. That decision led her into three years of brutal abuse, addiction, humiliation, and regret under David's violent grip. He killed her one night in a drug-fueled rage. But fate — or something darker — gave her a second chance. She wakes up in her teenage body, just days before she ruins everything. The weight of her past life haunts her, she remembers it all: the pain, the betrayal, the love she threw away. I'm going back to 505...

Her head rang like a church bell splitting in half. The floor was cold. Her limbs numb. Her eyes wouldn't open.

This was it.

She'd thought about dying a lot. But not like this. Not this empty.

Everything went black. Then—

BEEP.

A single tone. Clean. Digital. Alarm.

Then sound: birdsong. The rustle of trees. The creak of her old bed.

She gasped awake, like surfacing from deep water. Her chest heaved. She clawed at her throat. No bruises. No blood. No David.

She was in her room. Her childhood room. Her floor was carpet again, not cracked tile. Her phone was buzzing with alarm. Her arms were thin but unscarred.

She stood in the mirror and stared. Her reflection — 19 again. Whole. Young. Stupid.

The date burned into her eyes like a curse. It was a few days before the day she destroyed everything.

And she — somehow — was back.

The morning after, her walk to school felt like sleepwalking through a memory. She could feel the sun. Hear the birds. Smell the sakura blooms.

But it all felt wrong. Too bright. Too safe.

Her eyes kept scanning for David. But he wasn't here. Not yet.

She looked ahead and saw him in the distance. Laughing as he scrolled through his phone. The same way he used to. The version of him that still smiled.

Her steps slowed. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag until her knuckles whitened. He hadn't noticed her yet. She was grateful.

She wasn't ready. Not yet. She still didn't know what to do. But this time... she wouldn't pick the fire. Even if she had to crawl through the ashes to fix what she shattered.

She took a breath. Then another. Her shoes scraped softly on the pavement as she stepped forward, each one a quiet rebellion against the weight of her past. And finally—

"...Hey."

Her voice was small, unsure, but it carried. Her eyes met his for the first time in years — eyes that didn't yet know what she'd done. What she would do. And her heart cracked quietly inside her chest.

"Mind if I walk with you today?"

She smiled. It was broken, but it was real. And behind it, a promise she hadn't figured out how to keep yet — but would die trying to.