DOUGH: imma put warning on this chapter
Ahem... WARNING!!!
THIS CHAPTER MAY HAVE SOME SENSITIVE TOPICS FOR SOME SENSITIVE PEOPLE, SO I SUGGEST YOU DO NOT READ IT AND CLOSE THIS FANFIC, I REALLY SUGGEST
I MEAN IT...
DON'T BE STUBORN TO READ THIS, THIS ONE VERY AWFULL.
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MC POV
Being five years old again is already enough to drive a man insane. But being five years old in this world? That's like getting dropkicked into a sandbox full of glass shards while someone yells "Smile for the camera!"
Yeah. Welcome to my second life. Been here five years now. Doesn't sound like much on paper, but lemme tell you: every single day feels like I'm stuck in a time loop of diapers, squeaky shoes, and juice boxes. Do you know how humiliating it is to relearn how to walk without waddling like a penguin? Or to deliberately mispronounce words so nobody freaks out that a toddler can discuss the tax code?
Name's Rafheal Scotch. Not Rafiqul, not Rafun, not Raphael with a "ph." Nor "hael' Just Rafheal. Raffy for short. Yeah, my dad's got a middle name, but for some reason Mom decided I didn't need one. Kinda sus, but whatever. Point is: five years into this so-called "fresh start," and things have not been going smoothly.
Why? Guess where I landed.
The Owl House.
Yep. That show. The one I dropped early on because it gave me Vietnam flashbacks to when my so-called "best friend" thought it'd be funny to recommend Boku no Pico as my first anime. I was ten... TEN MOTHER FUCKER! is just same like presented with a video of two girls one cup that also would left deep wound mentally. That why I'm mentally scarred—wounded for life. Never trusted anime recs again by them. Ever since, I've dodged shows with heavy rainbow romance shoved into the main cast like the plague. Not because I hate it—live your life, you do you,i don't really care—but because my brain short-circuits when it's front and center again just like Vietnam war veteran. Like secondhand trauma, so naturally, fate—or that bootleg Kami-sama wannabe who dumped me here—decided to yeet me straight into one.
And the cherry on top? I'm the protagonist's childhood friend.
Lucky me.
———
So yeah, here I am, sitting in Camila Noceda's backyard. Picture it: sun shining, grass itching my legs, the smell of grilled food drifting from somewhere down the street—i believe the neghbor beside had BBQ. Normal suburban paradise, except the fact that I know damn well this cute backyard is just a prologue stage before shit hits the fan.
Camila's here, chatting with my mom like they're on a reunion special. My mom—Anie, buff like she could bench-press a cow—and my dad—Fernando, wholesome, chubby, and rocking a mustache thicker than a broom—are all laughing with Camila and her husband Manny. Poor guy. He's trying his best to vibe with the group, but his health isn't great, and you can see him straining to keep up while sipping lemonade.
Meanwhile, Luz is right here beside me. The ball of hyper energy herself. Five years old and already bouncing like she injected five juice boxes directly into her veins.
"Raffy! Raffy!" She tugs my sleeve with all the persistence of a woodpecker. "Let's play again! You be the knight, and I'll be the witch! Hehehe!"
Internally, I groan. Outwardly, I give her my best toddler "loading screen" expression, eyes half-blank, lips pursed, like I'm trying to remember how English works.
Truth is, my brain's screaming. Because I know enough about this show to know where this goes—well not really,i have no idea for all would going next,but I knew quite a bit in the beginning of this show. Luz, bless her ADHD-fueled imagination (how i know she had ADHD? I Will told you in the moment), is destined to end up in the Boiling Isles, meet some sassy owl witch who acts like she's forever 18 but actually pushing 40, and start blasting some symbolis rune? magic like it's Harry Potter on crack.
Did I watch the whole show? Nope. I bailed early that why I'm extremely clueless. But thanks to some TikTok edits of this show crammed between manhwa fan animations and Elden Ring clips, I know just enough...but not to much.the power/magic sistem here called Glyphs. an island that originated from the remains of Titan(?). Emotional trauma. Some plot twists I half-get, half-misremember. Not the whole picture, but enough to know the future is basically a blender full of chaos....but I'm still have no idea what would happen.
And me? Somehow I'm slotted into this childhood phase, playing Luz's little neighbor buddy like some NPC....i hope i just be npc side charather—not this childhood friend supporting charather..i wish i was worthless extra...but nooo. Sigh,Cool. Totally fine, i definitely not panicking internally every time I look at her.
---
I glance at the adults—my parents and hers. Mom's telling some wild story about high school. Dad's laughing so hard his belly jiggles. Camila's nodding politely while sneaking worried glances at Manny, who's pretending he isn't tired. Classic. And there's me, forced into this sitcom setup like a reluctant extra.
I keep thinking about it: is this reincarnation? Transmigration? Honestly, same crap, different smell. You die, you wake up in another body, you keep—or don't keep—your memories of being ERASE some memories of yours just like me. Boom,New life. Slap whatever isekai label you want on it. Doesn't change the fact that I'm five again after years been here— but i glad I'm still have all my memories—i just hope it usefull enough,but still i trapped in a cartoon I barely cared and knew about, and I gotta act like it's all perfectly normal.
So I've been acting. Playing the role. Cry when expected, giggle on cue, mumble like a toddler to hide the fact that I could probably recite Shakespeare if I wanted to. But I stay sharp. Luz might look scatterbrained, but she's sharp underneath all that energy. If she ever caught on that I'm not like other kids? GG, I'm exposed.
…Or at least that's what I thought. Turns out Luz has ADHD—probally, she is always unfocused and easily distracted with that hyper active energy she had, and honestly? Bless that. Makes it way easier to slip under the radar....
Still, I stick close to her. She's the main character... protagonist. She's got plot armor thick enough to tank a meteor strike. She will got some power?, according to those cursed TikToks vids. If anyone's making it through the nightmare that's coming, it's her. And I? I'm planning to ride that plotline like a lifeboat....
Not because I want to. Because I need to. Survival first. Morality later,i mean it—i'll do anything to survive even it make my morals are questionable.
---
So here we are. Backyard. Sunshine. Camila's flowers blooming. Luz spinning in circles like a cracked-up fairy.
I sigh, pick up a stick, and raise it like a sword.
"Okay, Luz," I say in the most innocent tone I can fake, "me knight, you witch."
She grins so wide it's like her teeth are about to sparkle anime-style. "Yesss! Prepare yourself, evil knight! I'm the great witch Luz!" She whirls around dramatically, almost smacking me with her arm.
I follow, dragging the stick like a weary soldier. The grass scratches at my knees. The sun warms my face. Luz is laughing, her voice echoing across the yard, trying to cast a imaginary magic spell on me.
And for a brief, dangerous moment… I almost forget.
I almost forget that I died because of a goddamn frog— I almost forget that I'm not supposed to be here.
Almost....
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We kept playing our little role-play game, the kind of thing only kids could pull off with that much energy. Luz would throw her "imaginary" spells at me, swirling her hands and muttering nonsense words like she was some kind of wizard from a fantasy story.
"Zap! Lightning strike!" she yelled, pointing her finger at me like it was a magic wand.
I ducked dramatically, rolling across the grass, then froze for a second and clutched my chest like I'd been hit. "Arghhh, I'm melting!" I groaned before dropping flat on the ground.
Luz laughed so hard she almost tipped over. She always got pouty if I didn't let some of her "attacks" land, so I made sure to mix it up—sometimes dodging her wild magic, sometimes pretending to take the full blast like I was her unlucky villain of the day.
We'd been doing this kind of play for years now as long i remember, maybe even longer. It was our thing. Other kids might've gotten bored, but Luz? She could play this forever. And honestly… I didn't really mind.
The thing about Luz was, she loved doing stuff that would scare or confuse other kids. Creepy stories, monsters, magic—things most kids our age would cry about. She wasn't like the rest of them. She was weird, sure, but it was a fun kind of weird. That was just who she was, even back then. Like she already fit into that "child outcast who doesn't belong anywhere" archetype before she even hit her teens. But, well, that whole part of her story would come later.
Right now, we were both just five years old, running wild in the Noceda's backyard like the grass was our battlefield—not to mention her house backyard straight into the woods.
Inside the house, though, the grown-ups had already wrapped up their little bench chat. My mom—Anie—and Luz's mom, Camila, had gone inside to put together lunch. And let me tell you, even though my mom looked like she could lift a car with one arm, she knew her way around a kitchen. Don't let her muscles fool you. She could cook up a storm when she wanted to. But most of the time, she let my dad handle it.
Why? Because he loved it more than she did. Cooking was basically his art project. While Mom was busy managing her three companies—yeah, three, don't ask me how she pulled that off—Dad spent his free time experimenting in the kitchen. He'd mastered dishes from Asia, Europe, even some random recipes he found in magazines back in college—no wonder he fat now. By now, cooking wasn't just his hobby—it was his flex.
So while the moms handled lunch prep, my dad was out in the backyard with Luz's dad, Manny, trying to break the ice and get to know him. My parents had always been close friends with Camila, so of course they wanted to know more about her husband.
And my dad? He was the kind of guy who couldn't resist a good "dad-to-dad" bonding moment.
"Man, the grass here grows quick, huh?" I overheard my dad say, hands on his hips like he owned the place.
Manny chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "Tell me about it. I just trimmed it last week."
They both laughed—the awkward kind of laugh men use when they're still testing the waters. But you could tell Manny felt way more comfortable now than earlier, when he'd been sitting with the them at bench. He looked like he'd been trying too hard to fit in back then, nodding along to conversations that weren't really his thing. Out here, though? He loosened up. Dad was good at that, pulling people in like they'd known each other for years.
I only caught bits and pieces of their conversation as I ran around with Luz, but I knew what was happening. Dad had this way of sliding into "guy talk" without even trying. It always started simple—grass, tools, cars, sports—and then before you knew it, the guy he was talking to would be telling his whole life story.
I had no doubt by the time lunch was ready, Manny would feel like he and my dad were old buddies.
Meanwhile, Luz was tugging at my sleeve. "C'mon, c'mon! Don't play dead forever!" she whined, stomping her little foot on the grass. "I'm not done yet!"
I peeked one eye open and groaned, "Fine, fine. You win this round, mighty witch Luz."
She smirked like she was the queen of the world. "That's right. And you're my prisoner now."
"Prisoner?!" I sat up, pretending to look shocked. "What kinda deal is that? You didn't say anything about jail time when we started."
"That's because it's evil jail time!" she declared, crossing her arms with a grin. "You can't escape unless you pay the magic tax."
I couldn't help laughing. "Magic tax? What do you want, gold coins?"
"No," she said, leaning close with a mischievous grin, "you have to give me… your juice box at lunch."
I pretended to gasp like she'd just cursed me. "You monster!"
We both burst out laughing, falling back onto the grass.
From the kitchen window, I could hear the faint sound of Mom and Camila chatting while pans clattered around. The smell of something cooking drifted through the air, mixing with the fresh cut grass outside. For a second, everything felt… perfect. Just a normal day. Kids playing. Parents bonding. The kind of moment you don't realize is special until much later.
------
So there I was, stuck in "prison." Luz had promoted herself from just being a witch to being a full-on witch-warden, and my role was the "evil knight" who'd finally been caught.
My jail? A sloppy cage made out of dry tree branches Luz scavenged from the little patch of woods behind her backyard. No fence, no gate—just forest bleeding straight into grass. It gave the whole place an "enchanted backyard" vibe if you squinted hard enough. The "cage" itself was just eight sticks jammed into the dirt in a wonky circle around me, but Luz acted like she had just locked me in Azkaban.
She folded her arms and squinted like some cartoon sheriff. "Now, Mr. Evil Knight," she said in her most dramatic villain-hunting voice, "tell me where you put all the goblin tokens you stole!"
I sat criss-cross inside the "cell," arms chained behind me in pretend cuffs. "Hah! Foolish witch. I will never tell you anything!"
Luz gasped like she was on stage in a soap opera. "Never?! Not even if I cast the super-duper painful itching spell?"
I smirked, shaking my head. "Do your worst. My knight honor will not allow me to betray my allies."
Truth be told, this was actually fun. More fun than I cared to admit. Yeah, yeah, mentally I was way too old for this, but damn if Luz didn't pull me into her games. Her imagination was like a gravity well—once she started, you couldn't escape orbit and i already fall the it.
We kept the game going until the backdoor creaked open and a voice called out. "Lunch ready, gang!" Camila's voice rang from the kitchen.
"Finally!" Luz's dad, Manny, stood up from where he and my dad had been chilling near the edge of the yard. He clapped my dad on the back. "Come on, Fernando. Time to eat."
From what I overheard, they'd spent the last half-hour talking about lawn mowers. Yup. Nothing screams "classic American dad bonding" like swapping stories about engine horsepower and grass-cutting techniques.
"Jajaja, Ok, abre el camino, mi asere," my dad chuckled, using that Cuban slang of his that basically meant "buddy." "We'll talk again later about your mower specs. I need one of those machines myself—hahaha."
(Author:I'm using Google translate so... yeah,idk how acurate the words is ,I'm very sorry..)
I swear, every dad has a dormant "suburban homeowner" gene that activates at the word lawn.
Meanwhile, Mom stuck her head out from the kitchen. "Raffy, Luz! You two stop playing and come inside—it's lunchtime."
"We're coming, Aunt Anie!" Luz shouted back cheerfully, grabbing my hand. She pulled me up from my "cage" like she was freeing me from prison. "Let's go, Raffy! We can play again after."
"Finally. I'm free," I said with mock relief, brushing imaginary dirt off my shirt. "No more evil jail time."
Luz giggled, tugging me along toward the house.
---
Lunch was a blur of warm smells and chatter. My mom and Camila set the food on the table—roasted chicken, rice, beans, some salad on the side. The kind of simple, home meal that makes you forget the world outside for a bit. My dad and Manny swapped more "dad talk" between bites, Camila scolded Luz for trying to sneak food off my plate, and Mom laughed along with everyone like she'd never been the buff corporate powerhouse who ran three companies on the side.
Thirty minutes later, bellies full, Luz and I were back at it—this time inside the house. No sticks or grass, so we built our new fortress out of pillows in the living room. Cushions stacked on cushions until we had a castle, a hideout, a battlefield—whatever the story called for.
We must've lost track of time, because the next thing I knew, my mom was at the front door. "Raffy, sweetie, it's time to go home. Come on."
My dad was already standing nearby, shaking Manny's hand like they were sealing a brotherhood pact. The two of them had really hit it off—dad had that effect on people.
I climbed out of the pillow fortress, brushing lint off my clothes. "Okay, Mom!" I called, then turned back toward Luz. "See you later, Luz."
She popped her head out from behind a pillow wall, her smile dropping into a pout. "Awwww, you really have to go? But we were just getting started! I wanted to play more."
I hesitated a second, then smiled at her. "We'll play again later, you know. I just live a couple blocks away."
And that was true—our houses weren't far apart. Easy visits. Easy excuses for more "playtime." I'd gotten good at this whole act by now—slipping into the role of the childhood friend...i walk to the door way.
Luz stood up she followed me behind, still pouting, and before I could react, she wrapped me in a bear hug. And man, for a five-year-old, she squeezed like a boa constrictor. It took me a full three minutes to wriggle free without being rude about it.
When I finally broke loose, she still had that sulky look plastered on her face. Behind her, Camila and Manny watched from the couch, smiling warmly.
"Awwww," they both said in unison, voices full of that parental "isn't that adorable" tone.
And there it was—the words. The label. "Childhood friends."
The phrase made goosebumps crawl up my arms. Because I knew that trope. Oh, I knew it too well. The childhood friend in stories always went one of two ways: ride-or-die companion for the protagonist… or the poor sap who never wins in romance.
And me? I'd already decided. No way was I going to end up in the second category. I wasn't Luz's love interest, not now, not ever. That was her story, and she'd eventually get her girlfriend just like the show said. End of discussion.
That left me with only one role—the ride-or-die. The loyal companion who sticks by her side through thick and thin.
And the cruel twist? It wasn't even fully my choice. Somehow, some way, I'd learned the hard truth back when Luz and I turned three. Whatever connection that damn god tied between us, it made sure that whenever Luz did something, I got dragged in too. Like we were bound. Like fate itself wanted me stuck in her orbit.
That god… that bastard had a sick sense of humor.
Because no matter what I did, I was locked into this role. Childhood friend, riide or die— No escape. And i bee dammed not called this cursed—called it MC leash i name it,sound cringe i know but that leash me to her, even though for me it more like chain then leash.
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OMAKE
Tittle: Childhood friend??
After Raffy went home with his parents, the Noceda house settled into that cozy kind of quiet that comes after guests leave. Camila hummed softly as she cleaned up the living room, picking up the trail of chaos left behind from the great "pillow fortress war." Couch cushions, blankets, crayons—evidence of Luz and Raffy's imagination scattered everywhere.
Still, she couldn't help but smile. Her daughter had been laughing the whole afternoon. That bright smile—full, carefree, like the sun—always came out whenever Raffy was around. It warmed Camila's heart.
She was grateful, too. Grateful that her two best friends, Anie and Fernando, came by often and let Raffy and Luz play together. The kids were practically glued at the hip. Camila had worried for a while about Luz's loneliness—at kindergarten, she didn't really click with anyone. The teachers said she mostly sat alone, doodling strange creatures in her notebook. Raffy was her only friend, and though Camila loved Raffy like family, she wondered if it was really okay for Luz to only bond with him.
From the hallway, footsteps shuffled closer. Manny appeared, a little slower than usual, still recovering from his last round of medicine. His olive-toned skin glistened faintly with sweat, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, showing lean arms dusted with dark hair. Even while dealing with his health, he had that steady warmth about him.
He picked up a stray cushion and tossed it onto the couch, watching his wife with gentle eyes. "¿Qué piensas, mi amor? You look worried."
Camila flinched at being caught off guard. "Ah—n-no, todo está bien," she said quickly, slipping between English to Spanish. "Everything's fine. I'm just… tidying."
Manny tilted his head, unconvinced. He switched back and forth as naturally as she did. "Camila. Don't lie. Tell me."
She sighed, shoulders drooping. Finally, she let it out. "I'm happy Luz has fun. I love her imagination, you know I do. But…I'm afraid her over whelming imagination would make her never have much friends..." She hesitated, voice softening. "I worry. Raffy's the only one she plays with. What if she never makes other friends? What if she stays… stuck?"
Manny set the cushion down and smiled gently, brushing his beard. "Mi cielo, she's only five. You think too far ahead." He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "So what if Raffy's her only friend now? One good friend is better than ten fake ones. And if anyone understands our hyper active Luz, it's him. He sticks with her. That counts."
Camila leaned against him, comforted by the weight of his words. Even sick, even tired, Manny was always there, always steady. A good man. A good husband.
Still, her mind flickered back to that moment from a month ago. She remembered standing at the playground, watching Luz run up to a group of kids, proud little grin on her face as she held something in her tiny hands.
A worm. A live, wriggling worm.
"Look! Isn't it cool?!" Luz had shouted, shoving it inches from their noses.
Of course Camila laughed—it was so perfectly Luz. But the other kids? They shrieked and ran off. And the looks from their parents, the whispers about "that strange girl"… Camila still remembered the sting.
She'd told herself not to care what other parents thought. But deep down, the worry stuck. Luz's world was so big, so wild—and yet so small, orbiting only around Raffy.
———
Upstairs, Luz was sprawled on her bed, tongue sticking out in concentration as she filled her drawing book with crayon sketches. Page after page was filled with fantasy—knights, witches, dragons, forests full of magic. Some had little scribbled stories written underneath.
But most of all, Raffy was there. Always there. Drawn by her side as a knight, a companion, a co-adventurer. Sometimes they fought monsters, sometimes they built castles, sometimes they just laughed together.
In Luz's eyes, Raffy wasn't just her friend. He was her only friend. And that was enough.
"Tomorrow," she whispered, kicking her feet as she finished another doodle of them slaying a giant snake, "what should I play with Raffy?"
She didn't even notice how easily her smile returned at the thought.