You Belong to My Past Life
Where It All Began
It roars like grief given a voice.
Pond feels it before he sees it—the heat crawling up his skin, the air thick with smoke and desperation. His sword is heavy in his hand, slick with blood that is not entirely his own.
Across the burning courtyard, Phuwin is on his knees.
His white robes are stained red.
pond
“Don’t,” Pond breathes, taking a step forward.
The palace is falling apart around them. Wood cracks. Stone shatters. Screams echo into the night sky.
Phuwin looks up at him and smiles.
It’s soft. Gentle.
The kind of smile that hurts more than the flames.
Phuwin
“Pond,” Phuwin says quietly. “You came.”
pond
“I told you I would,” Pond replies, voice breaking.
pond
"I will take you away. We can still run."
Phuwin
“There is no running left,” he says. “Not in this life.”
Pond kneels before him, gripping his shoulders
pond
“Then I’ll stay. If this ends, it ends together.”
Phuwin lifts his bloodstained hand and presses something cold into Pond’s palm.
Simple. Silver. Engraved with a symbol Pond doesn’t recognize—but his heart does.
Phuwin
“If there is another life,” Phuwin whispers, leaning closer, “find me.”
Tears blur Pond’s vision.
pond
“How will I know it’s you?”
Fire consumes everything.
modern life collision
His chest rises sharply as sweat clings to his skin. The hotel room is silent except for his uneven breathing.
He sits up, running a hand through his hair, eyes unfocused.
He’s had this dream for years—different faces, different places, but always the same ending. Fire. Loss. And a man whose name feels carved into his soul.
He doesn’t even know why that name feels right.
A knock sounds on the door.
Aou’s voice comes from the other side.
Aou
“You up? Rehearsal in thirty.”
Pond replies, forcing his voice steady.
Bright lights. Music. Fame.
He is an idol. An all-rounder of Jasper, watched and loved by millions.
Yet every time he closes his eyes, he is someone else—someone who failed to protect the one he loved.
Across the city, Phuwin stands alone in his studio.
The room smells faintly of metal and polish.
Sketches are scattered across his desk, designs layered over one another like memories trying to surface.
His fingers hover over a ring resting on the table.
He designed it without thinking.
Phuwin
“Why do I keep making you?”
The ring feels warm in his hand.
A sudden sharp ache twists in his chest.
He presses his palm against his heart, eyes shutting tightly
Phuwin whispers to himself.
He’s a jewellery designer—quiet, focused, known for pieces that feel strangely emotional. Critics call his work haunting. Customers say wearing his jewellery feels like remembering something important.
Dunk’s name flashes on the screen.
Phuwin answers
Dunk
“You didn’t eat again, did you?”
Dunk
“Your exhibition is tomorrow. Try not to collapse before that.”
But even as he speaks, his gaze drifts back to the ring.
Somewhere deep inside him, a voice whispers—
That night, Pond stands on stage beneath blinding lights.
The crowd screams his name.
Music thunders through his bones.
Yet when his eyes scan the audience, his heart does something strange.
As if someone important is missing.
As if fate is drawing closer.
Neither Pond nor Phuwin knows it yet—
But the promise made in fire has survived time.
This life is not finished with them.
THE LAST PROMISE
The battlefield is silent.
Smoke hangs in the air, heavy with the scent of blood and burning metal. Broken weapons lie scattered across the ground like forgotten vows.
Pond kneels in the dirt, his armor cracked, his hands trembling as they clutch the body in his arms.
Pond whispers, his voice breaking.
pond
“ลืมตา—open your eyes.”
Blood stains his robes, spreading slowly, cruelly. His face is pale, but still beautiful. Still familiar. Still the same man Pond has loved across lifetimes he doesn’t yet understand.
Phuwin
“You’re crying again.”
pond
“Don’t talk. Save your strength.”
Phuwin lifts his hand with effort, fingers brushing Pond’s cheek.
Phuwin
“Even now… you still don’t listen.”
Pond presses his forehead against Phuwin’s.
pond
“I’ll protect you. I swear. Just stay. Please.”
Phuwin’s breath grows shallow.
Phuwin
“In this life… we failed.”
pond
“Then we’ll try again. Another life. Another time.”
Phuwin’s lips curve into a soft smile
Phuwin
“If we meet again… don’t let go so easily.”
His hand slips from Pond’s grasp.
Pond screams—not like a warrior, but like a man who has lost everything.
Above them, the sky darkens, as if mourning too.
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