Reborn to Expose My Traitorous Best Friend

In my past life, during the military academy’s physical exam, my childhood best friend reported me for color blindness—just so my spot could go to an impoverished girl. "She has it worse than you, Nina. She needs this way out more than you do." Those were his exact words back then. My dreams were shattered, my health deteriorated, and I died in a cramped studio apartment in the dead of winter at twenty-eight. Before I took my last breath, I sent him one final text: *Did you know about that bottle of water?* He never replied. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the early morning of exam day. The bottle of water was still sitting in the fridge, its plastic seal completely intact. I emptied it down the sink, refilled it with plain tap water, screwed the cap back on, and placed it right back where it was. Outside the door, his familiar voice called out: "Nina, did you grab the water? Don't forget to drink it." I opened the door and offered him a faint smile. "I have it. I'll drink it." Ethan Cole stood in the hallway. His voice was just as gentle as in my previous life, his tone unchanged. "Let’s head to the academy together." Only our footsteps echoed down the stairwell. He walked half a step ahead of me, then suddenly glanced over his shoulder. "Nina, once we get into the academy, we can train together every single day." He had said those exact words in my past life, too. Later, while I was dying alone in that freezing rental, he was running side by side with Chloe Evans on the academy track. I cast my eyes downward. "Yeah." His father’s black sedan was parked downstairs. Chloe was already sitting in the back seat, wearing a faded school uniform, her head lowered as she flipped through the physical exam guidelines. Strands of loose hair covered half her face. She looked up and gave me a timid smile. "Nina, Mr. Cole said it was on the way, so he offered to let me hitch a ride." I ignored her, pulled open the passenger door, and sat down. Ethan started the engine and reminded me once more: "Nina, where’d you put the water? You’ll get dizzy fasting for so long. Make sure you drink it." A soft sigh came from the back seat. Chloe’s fingers clenched the exam paperwork so hard the paper creased. Ethan instantly glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "What’s wrong? Nervous?" "Yeah. I couldn't sleep at all last night." Her voice was soft and frail, sounding terribly wronged. "Don't be. With your grades, you’ll breeze right through." His voice was light, filled with the gentle patience one uses on a small child. I leaned back against the headrest, silently watching the city streets blur past the window. A long line stretched outside the medical center. After parking, Ethan pulled another bottle of water from the trunk and handed it to Chloe. "Brought one for you too. Wet your throat while fasting." Chloe took the bottle with both hands, murmured a thank-you, and followed behind us with her head down. The waiting area smelled heavily of disinfectant. Chloe sat beside me, endlessly fidgeting with the water bottle in her hands, twisting the cap back and forth at least ten times. "Nina, drink the water now." Ethan checked his watch, prompting me for the third time. "In a minute." "Just don't forget." The PA system called my name. I stood up. The bottle in my bag rested quietly in the side pocket, its cap screwed on tight, not a single drop missing. In the color vision testing room, the examiner pointed emotionlessly toward the chair opposite him. "Say the numbers as soon as you see the patterns. Don't hesitate." The first test plate flipped open. In my last life, this was the exact plate where everything blurred into an unrecognizable mess. "29," I said immediately. The second plate, the third... all the way to the most difficult red-green dot pattern. "A butterfly. And the number 12 in the bottom right corner." The examiner pushed his glasses up his nose, flipped to two more high-difficulty plates, and I rattled off both without breaking a sweat. "Color vision normal. All items passed." When I walked out of the examination room, Ethan and Chloe stood up simultaneously. "Nina, how was it?" Ethan rushed over, a smile on his face. "Passed. Even the color vision test was fine." His smile froze for a split second before returning to normal. "That's great! I knew you wouldn't have any trouble." Chloe stood frozen in place, the water bottle nearly slipping from her fingers. "Nina, you're amazing." The corners of her mouth tugged upward into a stiff, forced smile. Ethan reached out to ruffle my hair, but I tilted my head, dodging his touch. His hand stalled in midair, his tone laced with confusion. "Nina?" "I'm tired. I want to go home." On the drive back, Chloe didn't say a single word in the back seat. Ethan checked on her through the rearview mirror several times. I kept my eyes closed, leaning against the seat as the cool breeze drifted through the cracked window. In my past life, on the day he drove Chloe back to school, they had taken this exact same road. I had been standing on the curb. Their car drove right past me without stopping. That night, my phone lit up. A message from Ethan: *Nina, are you free tomorrow? I want to go check on Chloe. Her exam didn’t seem to go well today, and she’s in a terrible mood.* I didn't reply. I closed the chat and placed the phone facedown on the desk. At noon the next day, my phone rang. The caller ID showed the landline from the medical center. "Candidate Nina Vance, someone has filed an official complaint against your color vision test results from yesterday." The voice on the other end was cold and bureaucratic, every word striking like a hammer. "Please report to the center tomorrow morning for a re-examination." I gripped my phone, my knuckles slowly turning white. The person who reported me was Ethan.Early the next morning, when I walked downstairs, Ethan's car was already waiting. The rear window rolled down. Chloe was sitting inside, her eyes red and puffy, clutching a crumpled tissue. Ethan leaned over from the driver’s seat. "Nina, I heard someone reported you. Did you sleep okay last night?" I pulled open the passenger door. "Fine." In the back, Chloe sniffled softly, her voice raspy: "Nina, don't be nervous. The re-test will be fine." I fastened my seatbelt without looking back. "Yeah." After driving two blocks, Ethan glanced sideways at me several times, hesitating. His fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, his breathing heavier than usual. Behind us, Chloe buried her face in the tissue, her shoulders trembling slightly. Ethan stole a look at Chloe in the rearview mirror, his throat bobbing. The memory of Chloe breaking down in front of him last night churned in his mind. She had cried intermittently about how important this physical was, about her father’s illness, about her mother working odd jobs, and how this was the only ticket she had in this life. Then she had bitten her lip, wiped her tears, and repeatedly insisted she didn't mean anything by it—she was just terrified. He had stood there, paralyzed. After a long, agonizing silence, he finally nodded. After Chloe left, he sat in front of his computer screen for hours before opening the official complaint portal and typing out Nina Vance's name, letter by letter. Snapping out of his thoughts, he pulled a bottle of mineral water from the door compartment and held it out to me. It was identical to the one he had tried to give me yesterday—same brand, same packaging. "Nina, drink some water. You have to fast for the re-test, so moisten your throat." I looked down at the bottle. In my last life, he had handed it to me just like this, gently urging me to finish it. And I had drunk the entire bottle. After that came the failed exam, the rejected admission, the steady decline of my health, and finally dying alone in that miserable apartment. I raised my eyes and met his gaze. "Ethan." His shoulders twitched slightly. "Do you really want me to drink this?" I looked right into his eyes. The cabin went dead silent. Even Chloe’s quiet sniffling in the back cut off instantly. Ethan's grip tightened around the bottle, the plastic wrapper letting out a faint crinkle. His mouth parted, his eyes flickering with panic for a second as his peripheral vision caught Chloe in the back. In the mirror, Chloe was staring at him with red, tear-filled eyes—wet, pathetic, and filled with silent, desperate pleading. Then, he pushed the bottle a fraction closer to me. "Drink it, Nina. I would never hurt you." I heard something shatter inside my chest. It wasn't heartbreak; it was absolute finality. Like a guitar string stretched tight for a lifetime that finally snapped, leaving behind nothing but an empty, hollow silence. I took the bottle, unscrewed the cap, tilted my head back, and hovered the opening just above my lips. Tipping my wrist slightly, the water trickled down my chin, sliding right inside the collar of my jacket. The thick fabric absorbed it completely; nothing showed from the outside. The water was ice-cold. As it ran down my neck and seeped toward my chest, the chill felt shockingly like the day I was buried in my past life. I lowered the bottle and wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. "Done." From this moment on, we are complete strangers. Ethan's shoulders visibly slumped with relief, only to tense up again. In the back, Chloe lowered the tissue from her face, her eyes glued to the half-empty bottle in my hand. We arrived at the medical center. This time, it was a private examination room. Three examiners sat in a row behind a desk, a full set of test plates laid out before them. "Candidate Nina Vance, please take a seat. The re-test protocol is identical to yesterday. State the numbers as you see the images." The first plate flipped. I called out the number. The second, the third, the fourth... The entire set was run through from start to finish, with the highest difficulty plates pulled out repeatedly. "A butterfly. 12." "A bull. The silhouette is an ox." "The number 8 against a red speckled background." The three examiners exchanged looks. The senior examiner in the center wrote extensively on the evaluation sheet. "Candidate Vance, your color vision is completely normal. The re-test results match yesterday's perfectly. There are no issues whatsoever." I set the remaining water bottle onto the desk. "Thank you, examiners. I have one more question." The senior examiner looked up at me. "Someone filed an official complaint claiming I cheated on my color vision test, forcing me to undergo this re-examination. The results prove I have no deficiencies." My voice was rock-steady, every syllable deliberate: "I want to know who filed that complaint against me."The examiner took off his glasses and nodded slowly. "Candidate Vance, we will verify the complainant's identity according to procedure. Once confirmed, you will be formally notified." I stood up. "Thank you, examiners. I'll wait for the notice." I pushed open the door. Ethan and Chloe were sitting side by side on the bench in the waiting area, barely an inch between them. Hearing my footsteps, Ethan shot up, and Chloe scrambled up right behind him. "Nina, how did it go?" His voice pitched high, the tail end trembling faintly. I walked right up to them, locked eyes with him, and said, word by word: "I passed the re-test. My color vision is completely normal." Every last trace of color drained from Chloe's face. Her lips quivered for several seconds before she squeezed out a word: "Congratulations." "One more thing." I slipped my hands into my jacket pockets, my tone casual. "I've requested the center investigate who reported me. They said they'll give me a formal answer following proper protocol." Ethan's pupils contracted violently. "Can... can they actually find that out?" Ethan cleared his throat nervously. "Aren't those reports usually anonymous?" "It was submitted as anonymous," I agreed, letting my gaze drift slowly over Chloe's lowered head. "But the examiner said that even if it wasn't signed openly, every submission leaves a digital footprint in the system. Pulling the logs will trace it right back to the source." Chloe’s shoulders shook visibly. Ethan shifted half a step to the side, blocking her trembling frame from my sight. "Nina, do... do you really have to push for an investigation? You passed the re-test anyway. Maybe just let it go." "Let it go?" I repeated the words softly. He instantly choked on his breath. "Someone accused me of cheating on a military academy entrance exam. That's a stain on my record. If it isn't cleared up, that mark hangs over my file forever." Chloe finally looked up, her eyes rimmed with red, her voice trembling faintly: "Nina is right. Something like this really shouldn't just be let go." Looking into her eyes, I let out a slow smile. "Chloe, did you cry this morning? Your eyes are so red." Her neck stiffened instantly. She dropped her head, hastily scrubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "I... I just didn't sleep well. I was worried sick about your re-test and stayed awake half the night." "How thoughtful of you," I said softly, every word hitting with heavy precision. "I didn't even lose sleep over my own business, yet you stayed up all night worrying for me." Chloe pressed her lips into a thin, white line, her fingers knotting the hem of her shirt. Ethan stood between us, his gaze darting back and forth, his mouth opening and closing without producing a sound. I took a step closer to him, lowering my voice so only the two of us could hear. "Ethan, what do you think the person who reported me was trying to accomplish?" He flinched, taking a hasty step back until his back slammed into the wall. "H-how would I know?" His voice was raspy. "Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe someone just saw wrong." "Saw wrong, so they filed a report?" I tilted my head, studying the fine beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. "The center processes over a thousand candidates a day. The examiners only finalize results after double-checking everything. Is this complainant sharper than the medical board, capable of declaring someone a cheater with just a glance?" The hallway air felt suffocatingly heavy. "Nina, maybe we should head back first. Our parents are still waiting for news at home." Ethan finally found his voice, struggling desperately to keep his gentle facade intact. "No rush." I turned toward the elevator, my pace unhurried. "We can wait until the investigation results come out. From filing to a formal inquiry, it only takes two or three days." The elevator doors slowly slid shut behind me. Through the narrowing gap, I saw Ethan bracing himself against the wall with one hand. Chloe stood an arm's length away. Neither of them spoke. As the elevator descended, my reflection stared back at me in the polished steel doors. That expression reminded me of the version of myself who, on the brink of death in my previous life, had typed that final sentence into her phone. My fingers had no strength left back then, yet I had forced them to tap out every single letter. The message sent, a red exclamation mark popped up, and then everything went dark. This time, things are different. Every single debt owed to me will be paid back in full. The doors opened on the ground floor. As I stepped out, I almost collided with someone. He was tall, wearing an academy physical training uniform, holding a manila folder. He stepped aside, glancing at me, then at the elevator behind me. "Here for the physical exam too?" "Re-check," I answered briefly. Lucas Reed raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the answer, but didn't pry. "You're in luck, then. The head of the department is running the re-test board today. He's famous for being strictly by the book." "I know." I stepped past him toward the exit. He called out behind me, "Wait, what's your name?" I looked back at him over my shoulder. "Nina Vance." The corner of his mouth curved up slightly. "Lucas Reed. Also taking the exams. Maybe we'll end up in the same class." I didn't reply, simply pushing through the glass doors into the open. Outside, the sunlight poured down, blazing hot. In this life, the world was finally starting to warm up.Two days later, the call from the medical center came. "Candidate Vance, the identity of the complainant has been verified. Please come in." I put down my phone, threw on the same jacket I had worn that day, and smoothed my hair in the mirror. The reflection looked calm, like someone simply heading out to pick up a parcel that had been delayed for far too long. Back in that same examination room, all three examiners were present. An additional brown envelope lay on the desk. The senior examiner slid the folder toward me. "The identity of the complainant has been confirmed. It is a candidate from your same testing block: Ethan Cole." He turned a photocopy of the formal complaint toward me. In black and white, right in the signature box at the bottom, was the name: *Ethan Cole*. Stroke by stroke, written with painstaking care in the neat, formal script he had practiced since childhood. I recognized it instantly. I stared at that name for several seconds, feeling nothing inside. I had known this answer before I died in my past life; I just hadn't possessed the strength back then to demand an explanation. "Thank you, examiners. May I confront the complainant face-to-face?" The examiners exchanged glances, and the senior one nodded. When Ethan was called in, Chloe followed close behind, her face an ashen, sickly pale. She tripped over the doorframe on her way in. The second Ethan saw the photocopy in my hand, his feet rooted to the floor. "Nina, listen to me—" "I'm listening." I held the paper up, his signature facing him directly. "Did you write this?" His lips trembled. Stubble shadowed his jaw; he looked like he hadn't slept in days. "I wrote it," he choked out, forcing each word from his throat. "But Nina, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just thought..." "You thought what?" Behind him, Chloe spoke up in a tiny, shivering voice: "Nina, Ethan only did it for the sake of fairness..." I glanced at her, and she swallowed the rest of her sentence instantly. "Ethan, your complaint states you suspected I had advance access to the color vision test materials. The re-test results are in. With three examiners present, I passed every single plate without error. How do you explain that?" He stood there, his tall frame seemingly shrinking in on itself. "I..." He had nothing to say. I took a step forward, placing the photocopy onto the desk right next to his hand. "Fine. You can't explain the complaint, so let me ask you another question." I stared into his panicking eyes, my voice quiet, yet ringing crystal clear: "The morning of the physical exam, where did you get that bottle of water you handed me?" He jerked as if hit by an electric shock, taking a violent step back until his back slammed into the doorframe. Sweat beaded on his forehead, rolling down his temples. He was terrified—so terrified he couldn't speak. In my past life, he had always been composed, gentle, and utterly confident in front of me. Even when he destroyed my future with his own hands, he had never worn an expression like this. *So you can feel fear, after all.* From behind, Chloe grabbed his sleeve, her voice breathless and frantic: "Nina, that was just an ordinary bottle of water! Ethan had a whole case in his trunk, and I drank one too!" I didn't spare her a glance, keeping my eyes pinned on Ethan's face. "I am asking you, Ethan Cole." Suddenly, he threw his hands over his face, his shoulders shaking violently. When he finally lowered his hands, his expression had completely fractured. It took him several seconds to force out a sound. "Nina... that bottle of water... you didn't drink it, did you?" His voice was hoarse, barely audible. "You knew all along, didn't you?" Chloe spun toward him, all color instantly draining from her face. "Ethan, what on earth are you talking about?!" Ethan ignored her, his eyes locked entirely on me. "I remember now... I remember everything..." The examiners glanced at each other. The senior examiner stood up, his puzzled expression turning grave. I stood my ground, folded the photocopy neatly, and slipped it into my pocket. "Ethan, as for your false report against me, I will be filing a formal complaint through official channels. As for what you just said, I suggest you explain it clearly in front of the three examiners." My voice wasn't loud, but it was steady as steel. He raised his head, his lips moving soundlessly several times, unable to utter a single word. Chloe bit her lower lip until it almost bled, staring at Ethan's back, her fists clenched white at her sides. I pulled the half-empty bottle of mineral water from my bag and set it gently onto the desk. The tap of plastic against wood was quiet, but in that deathly still room, everyone heard it. "This is the bottle of water you gave me the morning of the exam. I didn't finish it. What's left inside can be sent for a toxicology screening." The examiner took the bottle, twisted the cap to inspect it, and tightened it back down. The senior examiner picked up the internal phone on the desk and dialed an extension. "Have the Disciplinary and Oversight Board come up immediately. We have a situation that requires a formal investigation." Ethan collapsed onto his knees on the floor, staring at the bottle I had placed down, the light in his eyes dimming into absolute darkness.