"Oh, she said we could go?"
I said it like I was still mildly sedated.
(Alright then... let's go.)
I began climbing the stairs.
Step… by step...
I remembered, I thought, I feared—
And I laughed at myself.
(It's the first day, right?
But... I already know everything.
The problem? I didn't know.)
By the way—
This is a new school.
A new phase.
A new system.
(Or that's what I used to believe.
But now I know... First floor, fourth hallway, the windows that overlook the courtyard.
A legendary spot for a first-year classroom.)
■ I arrived.
I entered.
I picked the second desk.
Specifically: the one by the window.
Strategic location.
Right across from the teacher's big desk.
But I sat in the far-right corner.
Always.
(I don't want to mess with the "Butterfly Effect."
I sat here last time.
I'll replay everything… without changing a thing.)
■ Each of us had our own desk.
A table for each person.
Why?
COVID.
Or more like...
The late-COVID era.
That weird time between sickness and boredom.
Only a few wore masks.
And even those who did?
Just over the mouth... or for looks.
Me?
I only wore it to get through the gate.
And the moment I passed the door—off it went.
(It was more costume than precaution.)
My posture?
Half-laid back.
Like I was on a couch.
Even though the chair was wooden... hard... merciless.
I'm tall, relatively.
And the chair was short, relatively.
(That kind of comfort... few will ever know.)
I stretched my legs out.
One of them nearly touched the desk in front of me.
(Whatever. I'll angle it away just to be polite.)
And suddenly...
I looked at the person sitting ahead of me.
A girl... wearing glasses.
(Oh... isn't that—?)
■ Randa.
Yeah, her name's Randa.
She was in my 9th-grade class.
I remember her clearly.
Not because of any memories—
But because her name sounds like the soda Miranda.
(A name that gets stamped into your brain.)
I rubbed my small beard.
Stared at the ceiling of the classroom.
■ I was waiting for the teacher.
And sure enough...
She walked in.
Didn't knock — the door was already open.
—"Peace be upon you."
—"And upon you, peace."
A woman in her forties, medium height, wearing a simple headscarf.
She placed her bag on the desk.
Smiled at us.
Then said:
—"How are you all doing? Good? How was your vacation?"
—"Alhamdulillah, teacher… it went by fast."
—"COVID gave you an extended break. You didn't study nearly enough.
Do you really think school's over?"
■ We laughed.
Another student replied playfully:
—"Teacher, we got used to sleeping in!"
She answered with a gentle firmness:
—"Well, sleep time's over. Time to study."
She started unpacking her things, looking for a chair.
She sat down.
Then said:
—"I'll be your teacher for Computer Science.
Today, we're just doing introductions."
She pulled out some papers.
—"Take out a sheet of paper and write the following:
• First name
• Last name
• Your middle school exam score
• Which school you came from
• Your age
• And anything else you want to add... get creative."
■ I looked down at the page.
Grabbed my pen.
Took a breath.
(Same intro… same sheet of paper…
But a different heart.)
This time, my name is the same.
But the one writing it…
is not.
Papers were being handed out.
Pens were breathing their final breaths.
A few students were even whispering for "a spare sheet," like we were on the verge of a college entrance exam.
Me?
I just sat there, watching them and thinking:
(The teacher… from past to present, her personality hasn't changed.
Kind, gentle… but? Strict, when she feels like it. Strict by mood.)
I pulled a sheet from my bag.
And a blue pen.
(This bag… still annoying.
Whether past or present, I never liked its look.
Aren't I supposed to be a "covert teacher"? What's with the size?)
I stopped complaining.
And started writing.
Same thing as the past:
Name, surname, age, GPA, where I came from…
Just the basics. No intention of delivering a "life speech."
I wrote quickly.
So quickly that even I didn't notice when I was done.
(Guess my hand's gotten used to this boring routine.)
I leaned back again…
Half-stretched out, like I was lounging in a hotel bed.
About fifteen minutes passed.
The teacher glanced at Randa—the girl sitting right in front of me:
—"You, can you collect the papers?"
Randa?
Ah, right… she studied with me before.
Her name sounds like that drink "Miranda," so there's no way I'd forget it.
She gathered the papers and started with me. I handed her mine.
(I'm sitting right behind her.)
…But then suddenly, a voice in my head:
(Isn't that…?)
I looked down at my desk.
My hand resting on the wood.
■ Isn't that… the beautiful girl?
■ The one with black hair?
■ And ocean-blue eyes?
(Yeah… it's her.
She really is beautiful.
She's transferring tomorrow? That means… this is my last chance to see her up close.)
(My last chance?
A chance to get closer?
A chance I won't regret?)
I lifted my head.
Leaned it back—shamelessly—onto the desk of the girl behind me.
Looked at her… upside-down.
(Let's see who you really are…)
I stared straight at her face.
Her eyes, her skin, her hair…
(Beautiful. Seriously.
Damn… how does she look like she just walked out of a parallel world?)
She was looking at me.
■ She froze.
■ She didn't understand.
■ Her face said: "Who the hell is this freak?"
Then she said… with a strained smile and squinted eyes:
—"What do you want? Why are you staring like that?"
Me?
Oh, right… I was staring like a scientist studying a rare phenomenon.
(Maybe… time for a joke.)
I raised my finger.
Pointed at her hair:
—"I just… wanted to see what the spider on your head was doing."
■ Shock.
■ Fear.
■ Panic.
■ Scream.
The girl behind her quickly shouted:
—"Nooo! He's lying! He's just messing with you!"
But…
Too late.
Her face lit up like fire.
A tear in her eye.
A heavy breath.
A puffed cheek.
Her eyes?
They said, "I'm going to burn your scalp, you son of a…"
Me?
(Damn… my skull's about to be cracked open.)
(Yeah… dumb joke.
But who cares?)
…
The papers made their way back to the teacher.
She started reading the first one:
—"Randa."
Randa raised her hand.
The teacher said:
—"Introduce yourself."
Randa?
She spoke calmly:
—"I'm Randa. I'm fifteen.
I live in Deyancy district.
I studied at Mohamed Khebbab Middle School.
I passed with a 10.67."
Her words were clear and well-structured.
But there was a slight hesitation, like she was reviewing a spreadsheet in her head.
(Me?
I already knew this whole day was a joke.
The writing? Just to make sure we're not faking anything.)
Then…
(Where is she…?)
I scanned the room with my eyes.
Mizuki.
That strange girl…
I mean, really strange.
Since the start of class… was I sitting directly in front of her?
Simple question.
…Did she just not notice me?
Or maybe… I didn't notice her?
Suddenly, I heard my name being called.
—"Abdel Hakim?"
I raised my hand confidently.
—"Present."
Then stood up.
And honestly… the faces around me?
Froze.
(Oh… wait. Is this their reaction?)
■ Some had their eyes widen.
■ Others whispered under their breath… something like: "Why is he so tall?!"
Me?
I smiled inwardly.
(Yep. I'd been slouching lazily this whole time. My real height wasn't obvious… but now? I just detonated their mental landmine.)
I spoke with steady confidence:
—"My name is Navarro Abdel Hakim.
I live in Diancy.
I'm seven—fifteen years old."
A moment of silence.
(Oh no…)
■ One raised an eyebrow.
■ Another looked totally shocked.
■ One guy let out a suppressed, sarcastic laugh.
I continued coolly:
—"Fifteen. Yes. Fifteen."
The teacher stared at me suspiciously.
—"Fifteen? Nooooo way. You're definitely 17. Don't lie."
—"No ma'am, really… the gradebook can prove it. Just open it."
—"There's no gradebook at the moment, I'll check later.
Where were we reading from?"
—"Uhh… wait… I forgot.
Hey Randa, where were we?"
—"Mohamed Khebbab."
—"Right! Thanks… Mohamed Khebbab, that's it.
As for my average? I don't remember exactly… it was 11 point… something. I forgot."
The teacher, raising a brow:
—"How could you forget? It's only been two months since the results."
In my head:
(You think it's been two months…
It's been three years for me, guys… or two months, if this is a dream…
or if I actually went back in time?
I don't get any of this.)
The teacher sighed, clearly tired of me:
—"Sit down, sit down… Alright, next: Melissa?"
(Melissa? Oh… that was the name of the pretty girl behind me.)
…
Ah…
I was sitting… sprawled out in a way that would shame the chair itself.
Legs stretched, back slouched—it was clear my posture screamed:
"This student belongs in the jungle, not a classroom."
And now? The moment I'd been waiting for.
—"Mizuki."
—"Here!"
Then finally, I heard it… her voice.
It came from directly behind me. I slowly turned, and—if I remember right—there she was, fifth desk behind me.
She raised her hand shyly.
Stood up.
The teacher glanced around… but didn't see anything.
—"Where are you, dear?"
(Oh no… That line alone means disaster is coming.)
Mizuki: —"Here, here!"
But the teacher still couldn't see her.
The reason?
(My height. Yep. I was the human wall.)
The teacher said:
—"Abdel Hakim, please switch seats with her. She's too short, I can't see her."
Me:
—"Ah, yes… got it.
Damn butterfly effect… I wanted to stay put so I wouldn't mess with the future… but clearly, that's not happening."
…
(I wanted... to move to a new place.
Mizuki was sitting in the back.)
■ Short? Yes.
■ Voice? Soft.
■ Presence? Barely there.
But then…
Someone walked in. Opened the door without even knocking.
(No, this isn't a horror story… just a student from a neighboring class.)
—"Salam, do you have an extra desk?"
(Ohhhh… I remember him.)
His name was Oussama.
Short. Buzzcut hair. Mischievous eyes.
My friend "Jamil" didn't miss a beat. He said, sarcastically:
—"You didn't ask for a notebook, or a book, or even a chair. You went straight for a desk!"
■ The class burst out laughing.
■ Jamil, despite his rough voice, knew how to deliver a comedy nuke.
Oussama shrugged:
—"What can I say? We need a desk.
Besides, who studies on the first day anyway?!"
Of course…
Who would even study on the first day?
But why…
Why is this feeling still here?
Even now—on the very first day of school.
Why does it feel…
Like something invisible is waiting for me…
Somewhere out there.
On the very first day of school…