Choosing a co curriculum activity in Year 3 was supposed to be simple.

  Most students picked something based on interest, convenience, or where their friends were going.

  I picked taekwondo for a very specific reason.

  Julian.

  Even before I officially stepped into the training hall for the first time, I already knew he would be there.

  In my previous life, that was exactly where we met.

  Back then, I had been standing in the assembly line for taekwondo students, waiting for the instructor to arrive. Everyone was loosely arranged in rows, chatting or looking bored.

  I was standing quietly, minding my own business.

  Then I felt it.

  A small nudge against my side.

  An elbow.

  I ignored it at first.

  Then it happened again.

  And again.

  I turned my head slightly.

  Beside me stood a tall boy with sharp features and an annoyingly relaxed expression.

  Julian.

  He looked at me like we were already friends.

  And then he nudged me again with his elbow.

  Back then, I had been in a terrible mood that day. I was already carrying stress from school, from life, from the constant tension that seemed to follow me everywhere.

  Each elbow felt like someone slowly turning a knob inside my chest.

  I had been seconds away from exploding.

  But somehow, I held it in.

  That small moment of restraint changed everything.

  Because Julian would eventually become one of my closest friends.

  Even as adults, we stayed in contact.

  Not frequently, but consistently.

  A strange ritual formed between us.

  No matter how busy life became, no matter where we were, we would meet once a year on our birthdays.

  Just the two of us.

  Looking back, that ritual might have been the only reason our friendship survived adulthood.

  Julian had always been ahead of me.

  Academically.

  Socially.

  Even physically.

  He was one of the smartest students in the entire school. Originally from class B, he was eventually offered a place in class A because of his results.

  That was how capable he was.

  But unlike many class A students who came from wealthy families and later went to expensive universities or overseas programs, Julian had a different path.

  Money.

  Or rather, the lack of it.

  Despite his talent, he chose a more affordable university.

  The same one I went to.

  Even then, he still helped me more than I helped him.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  He owned a car during university and often drove me to campus. The arrangement was simple. He would pass by my house in the morning, pick me up, and we would head to university together.

  It added extra distance to his commute.

  So every month, I gave him one hundred dollars as fuel money.

  He tried refusing at first.

  But I insisted.

  Friendship did not mean freeloading.

  Still, none of that happened yet.

  Right now, we were just two teenagers standing in a taekwondo assembly line.

  And right on schedule, I felt it again.

  A nudge.

  His elbow pressed lightly into my side.

  I slowly turned my head.

  Julian was staring straight ahead with a perfectly innocent expression.

  Then his elbow moved again.

  Tap.

  This time, instead of ignoring it, I caught his elbow with my hand.

  He blinked in surprise.

  I smiled.

  “Looking for a fight before training even starts?”

  He finally turned his head toward me, amused.

  “Oh, you’re not reacting like I expected.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “Usually people either shove me back or pretend I don’t exist.”

  “I considered both.”

  Julian laughed.

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  “Because I have a better idea.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh?”

  I leaned slightly closer.

  “Next year,” I said quietly, “I’m organizing something big.”

  “What kind of big?”

  “A cyber cafe gathering.”

  His eyes immediately lit up.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Class B and class A together. A full Defense of the Ancients session.”

  Julian stared at me for two seconds.

  Then he grinned.

  “That sounds illegal.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “It should be.”

  “Interested?”

  He crossed his arms thoughtfully.

  “I have librarian duties.”

  “I know.”

  “I also need revision time.”

  “I know that too.”

  Julian narrowed his eyes.

  “You know a lot of things.”

  “I plan ahead.”

  He laughed again.

  “Alright. This deserves a proper discussion. Meet me after school.”

  “Deal.”

  The taekwondo instructor finally arrived at that moment, ending the conversation.

  But later that day, we met behind the school library.

  Julian sat on a bench, flipping a pen between his fingers.

  “So,” he said. “Explain this grand plan.”

  I described the idea.

  Multiple teams.

  Class A versus class B.

  Full five versus five matches.

  Spectators shouting behind the players.

  Julian listened with increasing interest.

  “That actually sounds amazing,” he admitted.

  “Right?”

  “But organizing class A students is difficult.”

  “I can handle that.”

  “You sound very confident.”

  “I have experience.”

  Julian leaned back slightly.

  “Alright. I’m in.”

  Then he studied me carefully.

  “You know what’s weird though?”

  “What?”

  “You act like you already know me.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  He chuckled.

  “Impossible.”

  Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  I decided to test something.

  “Do you know someone named Lois?”

  Julian froze.

  “How do you know Lois?”

  “She’s hard to miss.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question.”

  “You like her.”

  Julian rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

  “Everyone likes her.”

  “Not everyone flirts with three other girls at the same time.”

  His hand stopped moving.

  “You’ve been observing a lot.”

  “Enough.”

  He sighed.

  “Look, nothing serious yet.”

  “It will be.”

  “You sound very confident.”

  “I’ve seen this situation before.”

  “Oh really? How does it end?”

  “You break her heart.”

  Julian stared at me.

  “That’s brutal.”

  “And you regret it.”

  “Wow.”

  “For years.”

  He laughed uneasily.

  “For someone I just met today, you’re making some pretty bold predictions.”

  “Maybe I’m just good at reading people.”

  But the truth was heavier than that.

  Because I already knew what would happen.

  In the years that followed, Julian would never truly forget Lois.

  Even long after they broke up, even after life carried us into adulthood, her name still surfaced in conversations like a ghost that refused to disappear.

  He would laugh about many things.

  But when Lois came up, the tone always changed.

  Quieter.

  Regretful.

  Years later during one of our birthday meetings, he told me he had a new girlfriend.

  At first, I was relieved.

  Maybe he had finally moved on.

  But that relief did not last long.

  His new girlfriend was… questionable.

  According to him, she rarely went out because her father was extremely strict.

  Their meetings were so rare that the number could easily be counted using ten fingers in a single year.

  That alone already sounded strange.

  Then came the worse part.

  Julian started giving her money.

  Apparently she was very good at investing.

  During another birthday meeting, I casually asked how those investments were doing.

  He smiled confidently and said they were currently in temporary loss.

  “But it will bounce,” he said.

  My expression had darkened immediately.

  Everything about the situation screamed red flag.

  Limited contact.

  Excuses.

  Financial involvement.

  I spent nearly half the evening trying to reason with him.

  Logical arguments.

  Financial warnings.

  Even blunt statements.

  He listened patiently.

  And ignored every word.

  Julian was brilliant academically.

  But emotionally, he could be stubborn beyond reason.

  That night, as I walked home, one thought lingered in my mind.

  If Lois had still been in his life, none of that would have happened.

  Back in the present, Julian was still watching me.

  “You really think I’ll regret it?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How badly?”

  “Enough to remember it years later.”

  Julian let out a low whistle.

  “That’s dramatic.”

  “Just a guess.”

  He studied my face carefully.

  “You know what the strange part is?”

  “What?”

  “I kind of believe you.”

  That surprised me.

  “Why?”

  “Your expression when you said it,” he replied. “Didn’t look like a joke.”

  He tapped the bench thoughtfully.

  “Alright,” he said finally. “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I’m asking.”

  Julian stood up and stretched his arms.

  “But first,” he added with a grin, “we organize that cyber cafe war.”

  I laughed.

  “Deal.”

  Some battles in life could not be avoided.

  But maybe, just maybe, a few regrets could still be prevented.