An Old Sweet Story About Rebirth

The thugs blinked and rubbed their eyes. The lights were blinding, but when their vision adjusted, what they saw made their stomachs twist.
Two SUVs. Expensive. Brands they’d only heard about in car magazines.
From the vehicles, several men jumped out. The ones in the back were dressed in matching black T-shirts, camo pants, and heavy tactical boots. Big guys — thick arms, squared shoulders — like hired muscle from an action movie.

But the two at the front were different.
One was an older man, silver at the temples, sharp in a tailored suit.
The other — younger — stood tall in a black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow. Lean, muscular forearms. Calm eyes that didn’t need to raise their voice to demand attention.

He didn’t move like a bodyguard.
He moved like someone used to command.
And every inch of him said one thing: You don’t want to mess with me.

The lead punk swallowed hard. Who the hell is this guy? When did someone like that show up in our town?
One of the others leaned in and whispered, “I heard from my dad... there’s some big-time guy from the city — filthy rich, well-connected — looking to buy land out here. Think this is him?”
The leader’s mouth went dry.

He didn’t know if it was the same guy. He didn’t want to know.
But everything in his gut told him: Get out. Now.
He jerked his head, signaling the others to back off.

Too late.
The black-clad crew had silently moved into position, blocking every path out of the alley.
They didn’t raise a hand. They didn’t speak.

They just stood there, arms crossed over their chests, watching like wolves at the edge of the woods.
The punks started to sweat.
And then — more light.
Flashlights this time.

Local police.
The officer in front — the chief, no less — wiped sweat from his brow and barked, “We got a call about a major disturbance. All of you — including the girl and her brother — are coming in for questioning.”
For the first time in their lives, the punks felt a strange sort of relief at the idea of going to the station.

 
****
They called it “questioning,” but for Tyler, it was little more than a formality.

Someone came in first to check his injuries — cleaned and wrapped the cut on his left arm. Nothing serious.
Then an officer waved them off. “You two are free to go.”
Tyler hesitated.

“What about... the others?” he asked.
He wasn’t about to get jumped again tomorrow morning.
The officer sighed. “Fight like this? Alone, wouldn’t mean much. But those guys — they’ve been on our radar. Theft ring. Been stealing steel piping from the factory and selling it off.”

“They won’t be coming out anytime soon.”
Tyler exhaled.
At last.

He took Emily’s hand, and the two stepped out into the night.
Just past the steps outside the station, Tyler spotted a tall figure standing off to the side, cigarette glowing faintly in the dark.
The man’s back was to him — black shirt, shoulders straight — smoke curling through the air like mist.

Tyler started down the steps, planning to walk right past him.
But the man spoke.
“Tyler.”

The voice was low, slightly hoarse — like it had been steeped in smoke for years.
Tyler froze. Turned slowly.
The man raised the cigarette to his lips, and for a moment, his face was hidden behind smoke.

He coughed once — quietly — then said, “I saw your name on the incident report.”
Tyler didn’t respond.
I wasn’t wondering how you knew my name, he thought. But now I am.

After a moment’s silence, he asked, cautiously, “Was it you who called the police?”
He hadn’t expected cops to show up for a fight like that. Let alone the chief himself.
The man flicked ash off his cigarette.

“Just a coincidence,” he said. “Our team was already tracking that crew. Theft like that? Could become a bigger problem down the line.”
Tyler understood.
The fight was incidental. They were there for something else.

He nodded, turned to leave.
Then the man took a step forward — almost abruptly — and stopped himself just short.
“Your arm,” he said. “Is it serious? Do you need a hospital?”

Tyler glanced down at his bandaged forearm, then shook his head.
“Just a scratch. It'll be gone in two days.”
The man didn’t speak right away.

Then finally, he murmured, “Good.”
Tyler didn’t reply.
He took Emily’s hand again, and they walked quickly away from the station.

They hadn’t gone far when Emily tugged his arm gently.
“Ty... that man in black. Was he... checking on you?”
“Is he a good guy?”

Tyler frowned. “No.”
He looked straight ahead.
“There aren’t that many good people in the world, Emily. And nobody’s nice for no reason.”

“Remember that.”
Emily lowered her head.
“…Okay.”

Tyler sighed — not out loud, but in the corner of his chest where hope used to live.
There was a time he thought good people existed too.
Like Mr. Zhang, the neighbor who used to help replace their gas tank.

He was kind to their mom. Kind to them.
Until the day Tyler came home early from school and heard him whispering to her through the thin kitchen wall:
“Those two kids of yours? Dead weight. Send the older one off to some job out east. Give the little one away. You and I can start over…”

SLAP!
 
His mother had slapped Mr. Zhang across the face and thrown him out the door.

Another time, there was Mr. Ray — the director from town, someone everyone respected.
For a while, Tyler had genuinely believed the man was a good person. A kind man.
He always smiled when he saw him, asked about his grades, even told his son to lend Tyler their rare video game console.

More than that — he would bring over gifts: fruit, candy, even the newest toys.
But his mom never accepted any of it. Never let him inside.
Then one night, Mr. Ray tried to force his way in. Tyler watched from the hallway as his mother ran into the kitchen and came out swinging a butcher knife, slamming it against the table again and again.

Mr. Ray spat on the floor, muttered, “Crazy bitch,” and never came back.
A few weeks later, she lost her job at the factory.
So much for "good people."

The ones who pretended to be kind were worse than the thugs. At least the thugs didn’t wear masks.
 
****

The streetlight flickered softly.
Back on the steps of the station, the tall man in black — the one who had spoken Tyler’s name — stood perfectly still.
He watched as the boy and his sister disappeared around the corner.

Watched until the night swallowed them whole.
Only then did he move — pressing a hand to his chest.
His heart was pounding. Hard. Unsteady. Like it might burst.

From the moment he saw Tyler earlier that day, it hadn’t calmed.
He had found him.
After all these years.

After believing he never would again.
The man — Shane — finally turned back to the car and slid into the rear seat. He closed his eyes and let out a long, trembling breath.
In his previous life, the first time he met Tyler, Shane had been twenty-nine. Tyler was twenty-four.

At twenty-four, Tyler had been distant. Polite, yes. But guarded, cold. A man who kept his walls up at all times.
It had taken Shane time — effort, patience, a little help from friends — to even crack the surface of Tyler’s heart.
But he had.

They had fallen in love. They’d married.
And for Shane, those years were the happiest of his life.
He loved clinging to Tyler, hugging him from behind, burying his face in his neck, whispering half-jokingly that he never wanted to leave him. Ever.

Tyler never said “I love you” back. Never promised anything.
But he stayed.
For three years, they built a life together.

On their third anniversary, Tyler said he had a gift to pick up. Something special.
But on his way home, there was a crash.
The gift — a small shopping bag — was found yards from the wreckage.

Inside were two diamond cufflinks and a note.
The card read:
“Two days ago, we woke up together and walked in the park. The weather was nice. The sandwiches you made were even nicer.
We sat on the swings. You asked if we should get a cat.
I said I’d think about it.

I’ve thought about it.
Let’s get a cat.
I like this life. I like you.
Let’s stay like this — together.”
Shane read those words after the funeral.

The first time Tyler had given an answer — a real answer — he had already closed his eyes forever.
Shane didn’t remember how he got through the days that followed.
He thought about joining Tyler more than once.

But he had responsibilities. Work. A family business. A life to keep living.
So he did.
He ate, worked, existed.

On the outside, he looked strong — unstoppable.
But inside, he was hollow. An empty suit of armor on autopilot.
Until one day, years later, he woke up drenched in sweat after a sudden, stabbing pain in his chest...

And realized he was back.
Ten years earlier.
Back in the body of his twenty-four-year-old self.

Tyler was nineteen again.
And this time, Shane wasn’t going to waste a second.
This time, he’d find him. ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) Sooner. He’d stay by his side, always.

He would keep his promise — even if it came a decade too late.
 
****

Later that night, under a climbing moon, Shane received a report from his legal team.
The thugs would be charged — not just for the fight, but for a string of factory thefts. They’d be held for a while, maybe even serve time.
Shane pressed his fingers to his temple, relieved.

They’d made it in time.
This time… Tyler hadn’t been seriously hurt.
In his last life, Tyler had broken his left arm that night. Poorly treated, it had never healed quite right.

Even years later, every cold rainy day brought pain to that arm.
Shane used to wrap it himself. No housekeeper. No assistant.
Just him.

Heat packs. Massage cream. His own two hands.
But Tyler never told him what caused the break.
Not until a stormy night, their first summer as a married couple. Rain hitting the windows, soft light in the living room.

Shane had been rubbing Tyler’s arm gently when, without looking away from the window, Tyler spoke.
“It was this day. Eight years ago.”
“I got my exam scores.”
“I didn’t apply to college. I gave up.”
“That night… I was upset. Really upset.”
“On the way home, Emily and I ran into a group of guys.”
“Normally, I’d walk away. Even if they taunted me.”
“But that night, I was too angry. Too tired.”
“So I fought them.”
“That’s how my arm broke.”
Tyler had gone quiet after that.

He remembered it vividly.
Shane — the cold, untouchable CEO of the Xie Group, the man the press called emotionally defective — had sat on the edge of their bed, eyes red at the corners, looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world.
Tyler had sighed softly, brushing his fingers gently against Shane’s temple.

“There, there,” he murmured. “I’m fine now. See? Nothing’s wrong.”
“Don’t look so sad.”
Shane pulled him close. “I’m not sad.”

“I just... it hurts. Watching you in pain.”
Tyler had blinked. Was there really a difference?
Shane took his arm again, holding it as if it were glass. Pressing his thumbs lightly into the muscles, massaging with painful gentleness.

“If I could go back,” Shane whispered. “If I had the chance to do it over…”
“I’d never let you get hurt. I swear it.”
“I’d protect you — no matter what.”

Tyler didn’t answer. Just reached up and gave Shane’s cheek a playful pinch.
Then Shane grabbed his hand — kissed his fingers.
And kept going.

Rain tapped softly against the windows.
Swallows chirped faintly on the eaves.
By the time the storm quieted, Shane was still massaging Tyler — though now his hands had moved lower, slower, deeper.

Tyler, half-drifting in sleep, whispered against his pillow:
“…Actually…”
Shane paused. “Hm?”

“Even if you had come back… even if you found me and tried to help…”
“I wouldn’t have believed you.”
“That version of me… I didn’t trust people.”

“If someone was suddenly kind to me…”
“I’d just run. I wouldn’t take it. I couldn’t.”
“Mr. Xie?”

The voice of Uncle Liu pulled Shane sharply out of his thoughts.
He sat up straighter in the car.
“Yes?”

“Mr. Tyler and his sister have returned home safely,” the older man reported.
Shane nodded. “Good.”
Uncle Liu hesitated. “Shall we proceed as planned?”

Shane looked out the window — at the sleeping town, at the wet roads, at the place he used to think was unchangeable.
“Yes,” he said. “Exactly as planned.”
Tomorrow… the next day…

Very soon, he would take Tyler away from this place.
Unfortunately, it would have to be in the one way Tyler hated most.