I bit my lip as I tried to remember my former life, the life I had after my first real introduction to the war.

My father and I hypothesized that every injury from my last life would come back to haunt me in this life. That was made obvious soon after my back injury, when a black tattoo had appeared on my left shoulder, looking stark against my pale skin. It was the image of a snake, curled in a circle, its mouth at the tip of its tail and made to look like the snake was on fire. The tattoo was as big as a five centimeter circle in diameter, including all the flames that emitted from the snake. It wasn't that big, but it was big enough to warrant attention if I ever took my shirt off.

I got into the habit of wearing a tanktop under my jersey and using concealer to cover the tattoo, with the help of my father.

That tattoo was the sign of our rebellion ties. Our country was suppressed under the supreme rule of another, forced to live our lives as trash. When the village I lived in was attacked, my older sister was left immobile, my younger sister dead, and my father and mother forced off to Central City to be executed. It was then that I had resolved myself and brought me and my older sister to the nearest rumored rebellion hideout. My sister worked as a spy and a medic, her immobility making her seem too fragile to do any harm.

We cheesily called ourselves "The Resistance" and did undercover jobs and ambushes to gain information, land, and justice. In my final moments we had pushed our suppressors into a corner. That was when bullets were rained down upon me. I tightened my fist at the thought.

"Mamoru, is anything coming to you?" my father's voice drew me back to reality with a jolt.

I sighed and shook my head, "It's not coming to me."

My father frowned, tapping his ring finger against the side of his mug, making a clinking noise each time his wedding ring hit it, "Nothing? Not even the approximate month or season? Evening or daylight? What kind of injury it is?"

A chilling breeze came through the window, making me shiver.

Dad stood up to close the window, "It is getting cold out. I hope we don't get any snow."

A voice echoed in my ear.

I hope it doesn't snow when we get there.

Something snapped within me, "A bullet wound, to my left side," I muttered, clutching the area unconsciously, "It was afternoon, broad daylight, it was cold, but no snow. Probably late fall." I felt myself fall a bit onto the back of the couch, feeling the same shivers I had gotten after I had jumped off the bridge into the icy river, "My friend was with me, he was dead before we had even jumped. A man had shot him as he was crawling over. I dragged his body to shore, blood still escaping his wound, a bullet stuck in his-"

"Mamoru!"

I jumped at my father's voice, and muttered an apology for rambling off.

He came over to sit next to me, wrapping his arms around me, "I'm so sorry…"

I didn't say a word, shock and a mix of happiness and despair overwhelmed me, "Otou-san-"

"No one should experience that," he muttered into the top of my head, "Especially a child."

I didn't realize it until I had started to hiccup and my arms had clung onto the front of my father's shirt, but I was crying.

It was early fall, and the sun was shining down on the court while a cold breeze passed by.

"Dismissed!" cried Yukimura, letting all the tennis players go.

I sighed as I rolled my neck, the second term of my first year at Rikkai had started a few weeks ago. I ran a hand through my hair, pushing my sweaty bangs out of my eyes.

Akaya scrunched up his nose next to me, "Geez Mamoru, keep your sweat to yourself," he complained as he wiped off his arm.

I shoved him lightly with my elbow, which he retaliated with a slap. I narrowed my eyes at him and held up my racket threateningly. Akaya's eyes grew wide with fear, dropping the racket out of his own trembling hands, and ran off.

I chased after him, mock swinging at him, "Get back here Akaya!"

"Yadda! Yanagi-senpai help me! Mamoru is trying to kill me!" My best friend screeched loudly as he ran for our brown haired senpai.

Before Yanagi could even reply, someone caught the collar of my jersey, "Don't provoke him, Mamoru." a voice whispered harshly in my ear.

I glowered at Jackal and slapped his hand away from my shirt and I turned to Akaya to see him explaining the situation to Yanagi.

I turned back to Jackal, fully, and hissed back, "If Akaya accepts his bloodshot mode, he'll be able to control it, Jackal-senpai. We just need to have faith in him. He's barely conscious while he's in that mode, Jackal-senpai, we can't just leave him like that."

Jackal opened his mouth to retort but a loud voice echoed through the nearly empty court, "KIRIGAYA! TEN LAPS!"

I sighed and set my racket at the side of the gate, following Sanada's orders.

By the time I had run my ten laps, Yukimura and Sanada were the only ones left, discussing something in the office. I walked to the showers and started to rinse myself of the sweat and dirt that had accumulated on my body. I usually took short showers just to rinse myself off at the club room, but knowing that Yukimura and Sanada usually had long discussions even after everyone had long gone I decided to take a longer shower today. I dried myself off and exited the shower, only my pants covering me as I headed back to my locker to look for my shirt.

I ran my towel through my hair and let out a groan as the towel slipped from my fingers behind me. I turned and bent to pick it up when I heard a voice, a voice directed at me, "Kirigaya, where did you get that scar?"

I turned, my eyes wide as I faced the vice-captain, "Fuku-buchou-"

From the corner of my eye, I recognized the red liquid that suddenly splattered onto the wall of lockers to my right. I froze, my eyes staring wide eyed at the liquid before I realized what happened.

Blood had burst from my side and the sensation of searing pain exploded through my whole body, "Agh!" I cried, falling to my knees, my teeth grinding together.

"Kirigaya!"

I heard footsteps as Sanada rushed towards me and another set as Yukimura came over, "Genichirou, call an ambulance."

I shook my head, gritting my teeth, but managing to get a hiss out, "Don't!"

Sanada glared at me, "Don't be ridiculous Kirigaya, you're bleeding out-"

I shakily took my hand away from my side, "I- I'm fine!" I snapped the best I could in my weakened state, my voice trembling, "T-there's n-no wound!"

I tried to return my hands to my throbbing side, but a larger pale hand caught my wrists easily, "Sit still Mamoru!"

I felt some sort of cool cloth rub carefully against my side. Or attempted to rub gently against my side. It felt more like someone was rubbing into my flesh with sand paper. I hissed in pain, instinctively writhing my body away.

"...Seiichi…"

"Mamoru is right, nothing's there…"

I looked down at my side and saw a red agitated scar forming where a familiar gunshot wound had once been in another body, "Call… call my father!"

They glanced at each other before Sanada stood up to presumably grab my phone.

Yukimura turned to face me, "What is this, Mamoru?"

I took in a shaky breath, realizing slowly that the two deserved an explanation, "I-I'll explain later."

"Has this happened before?" he asked, interrogating me.

I nodded and tried to shift slightly at my place on the floor, clutching my buchou's hand tighter in pain. I shakily removed my hand and pointed to my back.

He wordlessly nodded and murmured comforting words in my ear as my vision started to fade.

"Your father will be here soon, Kirigaya."

"Will he be fine?"

"Yes, he will be. What Mamoru and I think is that the wound opens up to release as much… to release blood and then closes up as soon it's out, scarring and hurting his body."

"There seems to be something you aren't telling us."

"...It's not my story to tell."

I had woken up to this conversation, a conversation that was happening out in the hall.

"Otou-san," I called.

The door immediately opened and my father rushed in, relief in his eyes, "Mamoru… thank god… We thought it would happen in late fall but I guess we-"

"Late fall?" Yukimura interrupted, impatience in his eyes, "So you two expected this?"

I glanced at the two teens and then to my father. He let out a sigh and nodded, leaving the room.

I sat up in bed with some difficulty, "Senpai-tachi… when I tell you this, I tell you this as the truth, alright?"

The two glanced at each other before nodding.

I took in a deep breath and explained my past life, the theory my father and I had created about my injuries, not explaining the manga I had been put into, but explaining my life before.

They stood there, stunned, not saying a word.

I didn't expect any different, they must think I'm crazy, but whether they like it or not, it's real.

"And you're telling us this is the truth Kirigaya?"

I met the eyes of my captain and vice-captain, "Yes."

They left the house without another word.

And now 2 know.