It felt like a long dream.

It was too vivid to be just a dream. The sensation still lingering on my fingertips, the sound of someone's laughter, and that agonizing distance I could never bridge.

I was someone's shadow. That much I remember clearly. One step behind, I was always the one walking one step behind. Watching the back of the person walking ahead, there was a time when I believed protecting that smile was my only duty. The hand that held the sword was meant to protect someone, but with that very hand, I never once properly held the hand of the person I truly wanted to protect.

Ridiculously, that was all. I couldn't reach them and only chased their shadow. Overlapping my feet on the path they walked, on the footprints they left behind. Days spent comforting myself that I should be satisfied with just that. Because they were someone I dared not wish for. Because I believed the moment I reached out, I would become a flaw in their life.

So I always took a step back. I pushed them away when they approached, and ran further away as my feelings deepened. Foolish days when I told myself it was fine as long as I was the only one hurting, that it was enough if only they could smile fully.

But why does it ache like this? Even though it's all in the past, even though it's a story of a past life whose name is barely a memory, why does a corner of my heart still feel so cold?

Perhaps I knew all along. That the hand I didn't take then, the feelings I didn't convey then—even though I buried them deep in my heart, I couldn't completely let them go.

Sitting blankly and looking out the window, I suddenly let out a hollow laugh. The name, the face, even the warmth of that day are fading, but only one thing remains clear: the vow never to do that again.

If, just if— If I meet that person again in this life.

This time, I will never walk only behind them. I won't quietly keep my place like a shadow only to be pushed away soundlessly. I will step forward and stand side-by-side with them. I won't hesitate when it's time to reach out, and I won't swallow my feelings when it's time to share them.

Someone might laugh. They might say nothing has changed even after being reborn, that I'm still a foolish person. But this time is different. In this life, status, face, and rumors cannot stop me. I only need to clear away that fearful heart that stopped me myself.

So if we run into each other again, whether they recognize me or not, even if they are living with a completely different face and name—

I will never let go of their hand this time. No, far from letting go, I will be the one to grab it first.

Now that I've woken from the long dream, for the first time, I was desperately wishing for something. To meet that person again. And in this life, please, let me be granted the right to stand by their side.