Chapter 3

I cried for a long, long time, as if I was releasing all the grievances from my past life.

Dean just let me hold him, quietly saying comforting words.

My emotions gradually stabilized. I released my tight grip on Dean, feeling a bit awkward and shy.

Though my body was that of a student, my mind was already 26.

I’d just cried in the arms of 19-year-old Dean for so long; it was a little embarrassing.

What was strange was that Dean didn't mock me. He was so gentle and comforting. Could Dean have also been reborn?

I looked at Dean suspiciously, trying to find any hint of a giveaway.

He seemed to blush under my scrutiny. That made me even more curious; I even wanted to reach out and touch his face.

"Wh-what are you looking at! Your tears are all over my shirt, it's gross!"

Dean turned his head, avoiding my outstretched hand, stammering and sounding disgusted.

That typical cocky smirk. This was definitely Dean Miller from high school, no doubt about it.

"Oh yeah? Well, it's not just tears," I said, unfazed. "There's snot too!"

Sure enough, Dean instantly blew up, ready to wrestle me to the ground.

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