(Jayjay's Point of View)
They said it was just an "accident."
A system malfunction, an explosion in the west building — nothing more.
That's what the school report claimed.
But Section E knew better.
We were there. We lived through it.
We lost through it.
It's been one year since that night.
The gate's gone, the courtyard's rebuilt, and everyone acts like the world went back to normal.
But I can still hear the echoes — Zyn's laugh, the sound of the sky tearing open, the moment light swallowed everything.
Sometimes I wake up in the dorm still feeling that flash of heat, that pressure in my chest.
Sometimes I think I can still see the seal when I close my eyes.
"Welcome back to Higher Value International," the Headmistress said during the ceremony.
Her voice was cheerful, proud. Too proud.
Behind her, the new Section E banner hung — brighter, newer, cleaner. Like it was trying too hard to hide the cracks underneath.
Keifer stood beside me, hands in his pockets, pretending not to care. But I knew him too well. His eyes kept scanning the crowd, searching for something—or someone.
When the applause started, he leaned close and whispered, "You're not sleeping again, are you?"
I forced a smile. "Define 'sleeping.'"
He rolled his eyes. "Jayjay…"
"What?"
"You can't keep pretending you're fine."
"I'm not pretending," I said. "I'm just… functioning."
He sighed but didn't push. That was Keifer — the one who'd rather carry the pain silently than make someone admit they're hurting.
Classes resumed that week. The halls were full again — laughter, noise, gossip.
Still, something felt off.
People walked a little faster near the courtyard.
Teachers skipped certain topics.
And no one mentioned Checkmate.
Even the new students didn't know. They thought we were just "the weird advanced class."
But during break, I saw it again.
On the wall beside the old music room — faint, almost invisible — the mark of the Soul Seal.
And someone had written underneath it:
"The King never left."
My stomach dropped.
"Jayjay?" Ella's voice broke through my thoughts. She had cut her hair shorter — maybe to start over. "You okay?"
I nodded quickly. "Yeah. Just… déjà vu."
But it wasn't déjà vu.
It was a warning.
That night in the dorms, I sat by the window, looking at the rebuilt courtyard.
The wind was soft, but I could hear faint whispers beneath it.
The same ones from before.
"The board resets… but the game remains."
I pressed my palm to the window, heart racing.
Across the courtyard, I saw Keifer on the balcony, staring up at the same moon.
For a moment, our eyes met — and I knew he heard it too.
The past wasn't gone.
It was coming back.
And this time, I wasn't sure we could win again.