The moon hung low over Diandrik Magic Institute, its pale light spilling across the dormitory rooftops like a veil of silver. The night air was quiet, broken only by the whisper of wind and the faint hum of magic wards guarding the grounds.
Inside one of the upper rooms, the lamps burned softly. Roze sat by the window, half-dressed, his dagger resting on the bedside table. Behind him, Diaz lay on the bed, watching him with that gentle, familiar smile.
Their bond had deepened with time — the quiet affection that had started with shy words and hesitant glances had grown into something far warmer. The world outside their room — the rivalries, the lectures, the competition — felt distant whenever they were together.
Roze turned slightly, catching Diaz's gaze. The silence between them was tender, unspoken. He moved closer, and they shared a soft kiss, the kind that needed no explanation. A few more followed, light as whispers. Then, with the lamp's glow fading low, they lay beside one another, the world shrinking down to the steady rhythm of shared breathing.
For a long time, there was only calm.
Until Diaz spoke.
"Roze," he began quietly, his voice carrying a tremor.
Roze turned his head toward him. "What is it?"
Diaz hesitated, eyes glimmering faintly in the dim light. "There's… something I've hidden from you. Something I should have said long ago."
Roze frowned slightly. "Hidden? About what?"
Diaz exhaled shakily, sitting up and pressing his palms together. "About who I am. Or… who I was."
He looked up, his voice barely more than a whisper. "My name wasn't always Diaz. Before this life… I was Leon Brooks."
The name struck something deep within Roze — a place he didn't know existed until that moment.
Leon continued, his words breaking apart. "Back on Earth… years ago… there was a boy. Daisuke Nakahara. I— I was the one who caused his death. Not on purpose. But it was me."
Roze's body went still. The sound of the wind outside seemed to fade away entirely.
Leon's hands trembled as he spoke faster, as if he had been holding it back for years. "We were both in school. It happened one rainy afternoon. You — Daisuke — you were walking near the road, and I was chasing after you, trying to apologize for something stupid. I grabbed your leg when you stumbled, and—"
He swallowed hard, eyes glassy. "You fell forward. The bus came out of nowhere. I remember the sound, the—"
He stopped, covering his mouth as if the memory itself burned.
Roze's breath quickened. The name, the story — it crashed against a wall in his mind, breaking through something sealed long ago.
Daisuke Nakahara.
The name echoed inside him. And suddenly, images flooded in.
Rain falling on cracked pavement. The screech of tires. The blur of a bus. His own hand reaching out in panic. The shock of pain, then nothing.
He remembered it all now — his death. His life on Earth. His parents' faces. His father's furious voice afterward, vowing vengeance.
Leon's voice broke the silence again, trembling. "After you died… your father found out. He blamed me. He sent his men to find me. They came to my house one night. I thought they'd just scare me, but— they didn't."
Roze's hands clenched tightly, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Leon's words grew quieter, his tone filled with regret. "They took me outside. I remember the lights, the shouting, the pain… and then it all stopped. When I opened my eyes again, I was here — in this world. I thought maybe fate gave me a chance to change. To find you again… and make things right."
Roze stared at him, unable to speak. The sound of his own pulse filled his head, a deafening storm of disbelief, rage, and confusion.
"You—" Roze finally whispered, his voice low and sharp. "You were the one. You're the reason I died."
Leon nodded slowly, tears glinting in the low light. "Yes. I never meant to—"
"Stop." Roze stood abruptly, his hand trembling as it reached for the dagger on the table.
The air in the room grew cold. His mana, usually calm and restrained, began to ripple violently, dark energy leaking into the atmosphere like smoke.
Leon's eyes widened. "Roze… please. I told you because I wanted you to know the truth. I didn't want to lie anymore."
Roze turned to face him fully now, his expression caught somewhere between heartbreak and fury. "You think that makes it right?" His voice shook. "You think saying it makes it undone?"
Leon stood too, reaching out. "Roze, listen—"
"Don't call me that!" Roze shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of emotion. "My name… was Daisuke Nakahara!"
The window glass shivered under the burst of mana that escaped him.
The room fell silent. Both stood there — one drowning in guilt, the other in rage and memory.
Roze's grip tightened around the dagger's hilt, his breathing harsh. "You took everything from me. My life. My world. My parents. And now you stand here pretending we can start over?"
Leon's voice broke. "I'm sorry. I never wanted any of it to happen. I just wanted—"
But the rest of his words vanished in a surge of darkness.
There was a flash — not of light, but of shadow. A wave of pressure burst outward, strong enough to crack the walls.
And then… silence.
The dagger fell to the floor, ringing softly as it spun once before settling.
Roze stood motionless, eyes wide, breath ragged. The storm within him began to fade into numbness.
Outside, voices rose — hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. The magical wards had triggered from the outburst.
The door burst open. Professors rushed in first, followed by Vonni and Voidheart, their faces pale with confusion.
The air inside was heavy, cold. The scent of mana discharge lingered.
Roze stood in the center, trembling slightly, his dagger still at his feet. His eyes were blank — hollow, as if the soul behind them had vanished.
Vonni froze in the doorway. "Roze… what did you do?"
Voidheart's gaze flicked between them and the silent bed. His voice was low, strained. "What happened here?"
Roze didn't answer. His hand fell loosely to his side, shaking. The sound of the wind through the shattered window was the only reply.
The teachers moved quickly, their magic scanning the room, eyes widening at what they sensed — the trace of lethal mana, the mark of a forbidden burst.
Vonni stepped forward, his voice cracking. "Roze!"
But Roze still didn't move.
He whispered something — maybe a name, maybe an apology. No one could tell.
Outside, the moon dimmed behind clouds, and the institute's bell began to toll, slow and heavy, echoing through the night.
In that sound was the shattering of something deeper than glass — trust, innocence, and the fragile peace Roze had found in this new world.
And beneath that toll, one truth remained — Daisuke Nakahara had remembered who he was. And in remembering, he had lost everything once again.