A Bloom I Passed By Chapter 1

I was reborn, sent back to my teenage years alongside the girl I was destined to care for—Mia Malina, my childhood friend with autism.

This time, however, Mia pulled her hand from mine. She fumbled through buying a bouquet of flowers and gave them to Alex Wang, the boy she considered her sunshine.

All because Alex loved to tease her with crude, flirty jokes.

After enough of his provocations, something in her snapped open. She decided she was cured.

In my past life, I had spent over a decade painstakingly caring for her, teaching her how to express the simplest likes and dislikes.

But in the end, the most casual and cruel words she ever learned were reserved for me.

“You… are annoying. Not as charming as him.”

From my window, I watched them below. The boy, confident and bold, pulled the girl into an embrace. The girl, shy and flustered, tried to pull away.

Fine. So be it.

I had no desire to spend another lifetime tethered to a patient.

* * *

“Hey, are you really autistic?”

Alex Wang leaned in, poking Mia Malina’s arm with a playful finger. “Because you were pretty talkative in bed yesterday. What happened to the autism then?”

Mia’s ears turned a bright, burning red. Her usually blank face flickered with surprise. “I… I wasn’t…”

The classroom fell silent for a beat before erupting into whispers. “Oh my god, did you hear that? Mia Malina actually spoke! That’s the second time today, right?”

“Hilarious. Guess the unorthodox methods work faster. Unlike some people…”

The speaker shot a pointed look in my direction before trailing off.

I kept my face impassive, my eyes fixed on the book in front of me, pretending I hadn’t heard them talking about me.

It was true. This was the second time Mia had spoken voluntarily today.

The first was when our teacher, planning a seating change, suggested I move next to Mia. For the first time ever, she voiced her own opinion.

“I don’t want to.”

The words were so smooth, so natural, that even the teacher froze at the front of the room. After a quick call with Mia’s mother, she’d nodded, relieved. “Alright, no changes then.”

“And Alex,” the teacher added, “try to behave yourself. Don’t bully Mia.”

As the murmurs continued, I stood up. Before I could even move, Mia spoke again, her voice sharp with a familiar disgust.

“I told you, I’m not taking the medication anymore.” Her eyes were cold. “For every pill you try to give me, I’ll just throw it away.”

For a moment, I was lost in a dizzying overlap of past and present. Her tone, her glare—they were identical to the last life.

The whispers of my classmates wormed their way into my ears. “God, isn't this awkward? Mia must hate his guts. Who wants to be chased down with pills after school every day?”

“And have you noticed? She talks a lot more around Alex. She seems pretty normal, actually.”

“The brooding, silent girl and the cheerful sunshine boy? I ship it!”

And the “cheerful sunshine boy” they were fawning over was now gently pinching Mia’s pale cheek. “Really? Am I that special to you?” he cooed. “Blushing again? So cute.”

Mia’s eyelashes fluttered. She quickly averted her gaze, and for a split second, her eyes met mine. The warmth and emotion vanished, replaced by an icy wall.

A thought struck me. Could she have been reborn, too?

Is that why she refused the seating change?

Heh. Even better.