Since that fateful day, I’d returned to my daily life—familiar yet slightly unfamiliar.

My father was gone, but I couldn’t drown forever in grief.

This world still held a life for me, however temporary.

Like the school now before me: Guanghai Normal University of Technology.

My university. The last sanctuary where I’d dreamed of singing my youth.

The familiar slogans. The gate I knew by heart.

And beyond it, the majestic trapezoidal teaching building—grand, imposing, unchanged. My home for the days ahead.

Yet this place that knew me so well… didn’t know me at all.

“Who are you?”

A security guard blocked my path at the gate, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He studied me like a stranger, voice sharp.

“I’m Chu Dongyu. Second-year student. Here’s my ID.”

I’d half-expected this. After my best friend’s blank stare, what else awaited me?

No anger rose in me. I simply offered a flicker of helplessness, pulling out my student card.

“Ah, sorry, kid. Haven’t seen you around. Seemed suspicious.” He flipped the ID carefully, then handed it back. His scowl softened into a smile. “Go on in.”

His bear-like frame stepped aside.

I nodded silently and walked past.

The corridors breathed familiarity. Bulletin boards plastered with notices and commendation letters. Scattered chalkboards lining the halls. Each sight warmed me like an old friend.

At last, I stood before my classroom door on the third floor.

*How many here still remember me?*

My hand froze on the knob. Courage evaporated like mist.

Fear coiled in my chest—fear that this place, too, had erased me.

“What’s wrong? Not going in?”

A gentle, aged voice behind me. I knew it instantly.

Turning slowly, I met Ms. Yang’s kind face. Silver hair framed her warm smile as she cradled textbooks. That smile could melt winter ice.

*Will she forget me too?* The thought twisted my heart.

“Chu Dongyu? Why hesitate?” She recognized me at once, no pause, no doubt.

“You… remember me, Ms. Yang?”

“Remember? My memory’s sharper than yours, young man!” She feigned offense, eyes narrowing playfully. “Trying to skip class because you thought I’d forgotten you?” Her smile turned sly.

“No! I—I just meant your memory’s amazing!” Relief washed over me. The shadows in my chest lifted, pierced by a trace of dawnlight. I pushed the door open.

Youthful energy filled the room—but it didn’t touch me.

Heads turned briefly at my entrance, then looked away. No greetings. No waves. Even my closest friends glanced up, blinked as if straining to recall something, then buried themselves in their tasks.

A sigh escaped me. That fragile hope shattered. I trudged to my seat.

“Class starts now. Roll call!” Ms. Yang strode to the podium.

“Chu Dongyu!”

My name hung in the air—a thread connecting me to the life I craved.

“Teacher, we don’t have anyone by that name.”

“Chu Dongyu? Sounds familiar, but…”

“Are you joking? Chu Dongyu is—wait… he’s in our class, I think? Ugh, can’t place him…”

Voices tangled around my forgotten name. As if I’d never existed.

“Here…” I forced a smile tighter than a grimace.

“Seriously? He’s actually in our class?!”

Their shocked whispers coiled around my throat like rope. Suffocating tightness climbed from my chest to my skull.

“Ms. Yang… I don’t feel well. May I be excused?”

I stood, blinking back tears, shielding my crumbling heart. Backpack slung over my shoulder, I fled before she could answer.

Approval? Anger? I didn’t care.

Only the freezing void inside mattered.

I’d braced for this. Yet reality shredded my paper-thin courage.

Out the gates. Down bustling streets. Laughter from passersby scraped my ears like taunts.

*No tears. I’m a man.*

I clamped hands over my ears, sprinting home.

SLAM. The door crashed shut behind me. I slid down it, tears carving paths through my cheeks onto my new shirt.

Silent sobs shook me. Memories flickered like old film:

Father’s warm smile.

All-nighters at the internet café with friends.

Cringey, glorious days of teenage delusions with my best friend.

All fading from the people who mattered most.

I’d overestimated my strength. One hour. That’s all it took before I broke.

In the dim hallway, I lifted my tear-streaked face.

A swift white shadow darted into view. It dropped something at my feet, releasing it from its jaws.

“Anyone would struggle with this. Eat.”

Kyuubi. My assigned companion. It sat beside a bag of bread, watching me.

I stared. Then numbly tore open the bag. Each bite was a silent scream against the bread’s soft flesh.

When the last crumb vanished, the storm inside me had quieted—just a little.

“…Thank you.”

“No need. You’re the contractor our Masters have high hopes for. If pressure breaks you…” Kyuubi tilted its head, utterly serious. “…we’d be terribly inconvenienced~”