ReRun!FPE

(ReWritten) Prolouge ~ A Second Chance

If you died today, could you look forward with pride?

If you were offered a second chance, would your answer change?

There's always some regret weighing everyone down, and right now...

"I forgot to study for my math exam..."

Abbie has a heavy shame sinking him down.

🍎~Abbie~🍎

His realization flew as a whisper, a cold breath, frozen in place as hundreds of thoughts stacked in his head—holding to maintain balance.

He promised he would study. He promised her he would try his best next time.

But he let them down; as always, as with everyone who'd believed in him. How can he be this pathetic?

And now, because of his incompetence...

He looks up, his school—Paper School stood in mockery. Shadowed in dense clouds, Its walls towered above him, infinitely bigger than before. Few windows shone with life, the rest bleak, a cruel resemblance to everyone in this academy.

A shiver ran down his spine, lost in a maze of his own mind.

"I-it's not true." He softly mutters, gripping the straps of his backpack.

"It can't be true." His trembles eased, breaths steadying with a deep swallow.

"Just... just rumors." A step forward, "That's all they are." Until pace formed, carrying him through the front doors.

—

Inside, small chatter and forgettable faces dispersed throughout, amounting as much as the windows illuminating the outside. The peace in sparsity, a benefit enjoyed during his early arrivals, now felt daunting.

Twice... he desecrated her paper twice up till now.

Silence left his mind gashed, infected by whispers, open for a plague of grisly fates waiting for him at every thought.

And by consistency, today would be his third.

His gaze fell ill, descended to the floor with tight shoulders, sheltered arms, polluted by the remnants of his meetings.

But... she's proven those rumors false before... is he overthinking this?

The pale tiles consumes his vision, momentum unchanged, a blurred journey as with the delve into conspiracy.

If so, then why... why can't he shake off this feeling?

The floor changes—sets of slabs dyed by an array of primary colors. His autopilot steered him into the cafeteria, shaking off his haze in notice.

His sights shoot towards a table—their table—the center of attention between every spot available.

He would've suggested a more isolated position, but that decision was made long before his appearance.

Taking his seat, he places his bag aside before rummaging through. Books and papers hooked and placed as swiftly as his hands could move.

Maybe if he's fast enough, he can still get a few minutes of-

"Well, well, well, looks like someone forgot to study for his math exam." A voice, mimicking ruggedness, rang from behind with barely contained joy. "Care to explain yourself my fellow camaraderie in arms?"