Chapter 3

The moon had risen in the sky where the clouds drifted slowly. It had been night for a while now. “Excuse me.” I was sitting on a bench, swinging my feet back and forth like I was splashing water, when a stranger’s voice reached me. I looked up and saw a guy with his bangs split perfectly 5:5, holding out his phone toward me. “My friend asked me to do this, but... could I get your number?” “...Sorry?” “That guy in the gray hoodie over there said he’s interested.” He pointed, and I turned to look. Next to a streetlight, a guy in a gray hoodie was standing with his head down. “Ah... I’m sorry.” I bowed my head quickly and looked up again. The guy smiled awkwardly and turned around. “Bro, she turned you down.” “Shut up, asshole. She probably has a boyfriend.” The guy in the hoodie and the one who approached me glanced back once, then walked off. The sun had long since set, and night had come—but I was still sitting there, completely fine. I had no idea why. “I'm Sol. How long are you gonna keep lying around? Wake up. Open your eyes.” I closed my eyes and slapped my own cheeks with both hands. Wake up, chosen one. Please, wake up! I lowered my hands and slowly opened my eyes. The park, now cloaked in darkness, looked the same. I leaned my head back and let out a sigh. Why... was it still the same? Then, I felt a vibration on my thigh. A vibration? In a dream? No way a dream would have tactile feedback like this. It was way too real. I shoved my hand into my pocket, took out my phone, and checked the caller. [Mom] Whoa. Even in a dream, I’m getting calls? “Hello?” — Why aren’t you home yet, huh? Do you even know what time it is? I had no words. She told me to come home. “This dream is freakishly vivid...” — What dream? Whatever, just get back here! It’s already 11 o’clock! “Mom, I can’t wake up. I’ve been sitting here for hours.” — What are you talking about? Just come home already. It’s late. Click. She hung up. I stared at the blank call screen. I tried searching for “Potato Pancakes,” “Ryu Seon-jae,” and “Baek In-hyeok” online, but nothing came up. I even tried logging into the school’s student portal with my old student number and password—but it failed. Said the info didn’t exist. It all felt too real—but it couldn’t possibly be real, so it had to be a dream. And yet I had no idea why I wasn’t waking up. What had I been doing before I fell asleep? Right— I yelled. “Turn your damn TV down!” Silence. I lowered my voice and said it again: “Stop crying like a damn ghost!” I stared into the darkness around me. Everything was just like before. I even mimicked the sobbing sounds I made that night, like some kind of weird echo rehearsal. I tried making it extra raspy—but it was still just the same park. No sudden bursts of light. Nothing changed. I stopped making noise. Took a short breath. Clasped my hands together tightly. “Please, just let me wake up now!” I heard laughter. Whipping around, I looked behind me. It came from the flowerbeds in the dark corner of the park. Before I could go check, something stirred on the opposite side. A rowdy group was coming in, cigarettes hanging from their lips. Laughing and swearing loudly. “Sh*t, man!” They were cackling like it was hilarious. Dream or not, I wasn’t sticking around for this crap. I got up and quickly left the park. With nowhere else to go, I started walking toward home. The house we used to live in—before we moved. Wake up! Get up! The alarm screamed. I slammed the panda’s head to silence it. Lying flat on my back, I stared blankly at the ceiling. Wait... this isn’t the ceiling of my apartment. I shot up. A school uniform was hanging from the door handle. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Still?” I touched my face, then opened the door. No one was there. Dad only came home once a month for work, And Mom always left at dawn because of her job. So I’d always get up alone, pretend I’d eaten, and barely make it to school. That was how it was in high school. That was back then. I walked into the kitchen and saw a note stuck to the fridge: [Eat breakfast. Don’t be late.] It was Mom’s handwriting. “What the hell is this? Am I actually supposed to go to school?” I stood in the middle of the living room, frowning into the sunlight coming through the windows. No way... Could this... actually not be a dream? “I'm Sol. Are you trying to join the class delinquent squad now? Skipping every class?” “No, ma’am...” I answered in a voice barely above a whisper. My homeroom teacher stared at me, clearly annoyed. I had acted without thinking yesterday, and now I was paying the price. I lowered my head, like I was begging for forgiveness. The bell rang for the first period. The teacher grabbed her textbook and stood up. “What are you doing? You’re not going to class?” “Ah, yes.” I bowed my head, said goodbye, and left the teacher’s office. I walked back into the classroom and sat down. I wasn’t even sure which seat was mine—but my bag from yesterday was still hanging off the desk. “What’s with you yesterday?” Eun-hee, sitting beside me, poked my arm and asked. “Yeah, I know...” I was baffled, too. Back in 11th grade again, two days in a row? Resting my chin on my palm, I stared blankly at the chalkboard, then asked Eun-hee: “Do you know Potato Pancakes?” “Huh? The food?” “No, the group. The idol.” “There’s a group called that? What kind of name is that?” So she didn’t know. I looked away and stared at the wall clock. In dreams, time always skips in chunks, right? But here, the minute hand ticked forward, one by one. “So what is this? That’s right—it’s the implementation of the Daedong Law. If you understand Joseon’s tax system, this is easy. What’s the key term in this passage?” ...I’m gonna lose my mind. This is basically just going back to high school. Class, break. Class, break. The schedule continued relentlessly, And I was trapped inside it. Fully experiencing it, moment by moment, without missing a second. I was gripping my bangs and tugging at them, When I felt someone’s gaze and turned my head. Eun-hee was looking at me like I’d grown a second head. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting weird since yesterday.” She leaned in and whispered. Yeah. I look weird, don’t I? I even think I look weird. I let go of my bangs and pulled my chair closer to hers. “Hey. I woke up, and suddenly I’m six years in the past. But I’m not waking up. What do you call that?” Eun-hee blinked wide-eyed, then muttered in a small voice: “...Time leap?” “Time leap? What’s that?” She scribbled the words in English in the blank margin of my textbook. time leap “Just what it sounds like. Leaping through time. Time travel.” As soon as she finished her sentence— Clack A piece of chalk landed on my desk. I looked up. Our history teacher was glaring at me, eyes wide. Eun-hee quickly cleared her throat and looked back at her book. “No chatting.” “...Okay.” I lowered my head and stared at the letters she had doodled on the page. Time... leap. Eighth period. Instead after-school class, we were given self-study time. I searched “time leap” on a portal site. Related terms popped up: time travel, time slip, time machine. I clicked through each one and read what came up. Time travel: The act of breaking away from the normal flow of time and going to the past or future.¹ Time slip: When a person or group inexplicably slips backward or forward in time.² Time machine: A fictional machine that allows travel to the past or future. “What the hell...” I flipped the phone over and set it on my desk. Then folded my arms and lay my head down. I tried to recall everything from the night of December 31st. I drank a pack of soju. I wasn’t blackout drunk, but tipsy enough to feel it. I cried over Seon-jae. Heard the bells ring. And that was it. And then, boom—just like that, on New Year’s Day, I was suddenly back six years ago. No matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t call this a dream. It was just... regular life. Except for the fact that I knew everything that was going to happen for the next six years. Thunk. Thunk. I slammed my forehead into the desk. I banged the table in frustration, And Eun-hee grabbed my shoulder, alarmed. “Why are you hitting your head? What’s wrong?” “I think I actually time-leaped—like you said.” “...Huh?” Eun-hee’s eyes widened, and then she burst out laughing. She laughed, but I was dead serious. “No, seriously. I’m not joking. I thought I passed out drunk and was having some crazy dream. But the more I look around, the more I think this isn’t a dream.” “Wait... Sol, you drink...?” The laughter disappeared from Eun-hee’s face. “No, I mean—I’m from the future. I’m twenty-three. No, twenty-four now. Since it’s the new year. I’m in college. Haven’t even gotten a job yet. Just some loser fangirl.” “...So you’re saying you came here from the future?” I nodded hard. “You just dropped in out of nowhere?” This time, I shook my head hard. “I was under a blanket, crying because someone I loved died. And then the whole blanket lit up, and when I opened my eyes— I was here.” Eun-hee looked at me with concern and gently patted my shoulder. I thought she was sympathizing, but then she slowly shifted her desk away. That wasn’t enough—she even raised her hand to cover her face and avoid my gaze. Really? Are you serious? I let out a faint sigh and pressed my forehead with one hand, looking down at the desk. Right where my eyes landed, written in huge bold letters with a permanent marker, was: I'm Sol ♡ Hyeon-joo's graffiti. Hyeon-joo had been my closest friend since middle school, and we entered high school together. She was the only one I ever really hung out with. But when her dad got transferred to a job in the countryside, she had to move right after the mock exams in September of her sophomore year. If Hyeon-joo were here, would she have believed me? Back in this time, six years ago, I had been incredibly depressed. I once got into a fight with my mom, insisting I was going to drop out and take the GED, and she chased me out of the house after hitting me on the head with a soup ladle. Whenever I needed an excuse for why I couldn’t study, I’d always say, “Because Mom whacked me with a ladle,” like it was some valid reason. I scratched at Hyeon-joos' doodle with my fingernail. It was written in oil-based marker, so no matter how hard I rubbed, it wouldn’t fade or disappear. It really was—down to the last detail—my past, just as it was. That thought gave me chills. But then my heart suddenly started pounding. I didn’t know how, but... had I really time-traveled? If so, then... The bell rang. I pushed my chair back and picked up the bag hanging from the desk hook. Eun-hee, sitting a bit apart from me, looked up as I abruptly stood. “You’re not staying for night study?” I nodded as I slung my bag over one shoulder. “What’s the point in doing something I’ve already done? There’s no such thing as a ‘perfect score on the CSAT.’ I ate a crapload of yeast the night before mine.” I tucked in my chair and patted Eun-hee on the shoulder. “Study hard, Eun-hee.” You’re gonna bomb the CSAT and retake it next year. I opened the classroom door and stepped into the hallway. Maybe this... was a chance. A chance to prevent Ryu Seon-jae from joining Potato Pancakes as the cursed fifth member. A chance to stop the birth of the damn “Potato Battle” and “Potato War.” A chance to save Ryu Seon-jae, who died so unluckily at twenty-three, from taking the wrong cold medicine. All his insomnia had started from that goddamn battle and war. Now that it’s come to this, my only goal as a reborn eighteen-year-old is simple: Operation: Cancel the Addition of Ryu Seon-jae as the Fifth Member. The Save-the-Wootteum Campaign. Jagam High School. I stood again in front of the same sign I’d seen yesterday. As far as I knew, once Seon-jae entered the company and started training as a trainee, he stopped attending night self-study. Current time: 6:10 p.m. The school, lights on, was quiet—maybe night study had already started. I had come here on impulse, hoping I might run into him. If I did, great. If I didn’t—I’d just come earlier tomorrow. I will stop Seon-jae from joining Potato Pancakes. I will stop the root of all his sleepless nights. I will save Seon-jae! “Fighting! Fighting!” I clenched both fists and pulled them up to my sides. “Hey, isn’t that the girl from yesterday? The one who was crying while shouting Seon-jae’s name?” I turned my head, still crouched with my fists at my waist. Two girls were walking through the school gate, each with an ice cream in their mouth, staring straight at me. “Yup, it’s her.” They stopped walking. Why are they stopping? As soon as I thought it, they turned and walked right up to me. The girl with clumpy mascara looked at my name tag and read it aloud. I'mIm Sol?” The one standing next to her scanned me from head to toe. Her gaze dropped to my feet, then rose back up to my face. “What’s your deal with Seon-jae? Are you two dating or something?” “W-What?” My face flushed red. Oh my god. Someone actually mistook me for Seon-jae’s...? The thought alone made my face heat up. I cupped both cheeks with my hands. “Of course not! How could I ever dare with the great Seon-jae...” As I shrank back shyly, the girls frowned and snorted. It was practically a sneer. “‘The great Seon-jae?’ Seriously? What kind of line is that?” Their thug-like attitude made my hands instinctively clasp together in front of me. Me, the forever pushover. “You were bawling and screaming about how much you loved him—was that some kind of new tactic?” “Tactic?” I gave them the most innocent smile I could muster. Why are you like this? You’re scary. Just go in and do your night study, please. “Don’t you dare try anything with Seon-jae. I had my eye on him since orientation.” The girl with the half-up ponytail—her name tag read Kim Ok-sun—glared sharply at me. “Ah...” “Ugh, what’s that supposed to mean? A,’ my ass.” “R-right...” I nodded quickly. Wasn’t that enough bowing? Please just go inside. Whether in the past or now, I’ve always been weak around delinquent kids in uniforms. School-uniform-wearing thugs are the scariest beings on Earth. Mascara Girl and Kim Ok-sun walked through the gate. “So scary...” I stood by the gate, waiting for Seon-jae to come out. Kicking a pebble near my foot, I spun my bag around, unzipped it, and pulled out the letter. I’d written it because I didn’t think I could say what I needed to out loud. I’d written Seon-jae tons of letters before—but this was the first time I’d be handing one to him myself. My heart beat in a frantic drum rhythm. I had carefully picked both the letter paper and the envelope—big red hearts printed all over. I rubbed the front of the envelope, then pulled out the folded paper. I had written it out slowly, one word at a time, doing my best to keep the handwriting neat. It began, “To Seon-jae.” As I read down the letter, my eyes widened. “...What the?” I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and looked again. Even blinking several times, it was still the same. The most important sentence was gone. “On XX year, XX month, XX day, you’re going to come down with a cold. You’ll be tempted to take sleeping pills because of your insomnia, but no matter how bad it gets, don’t take any meds that day. Not even vitamins. It’ll be dangerous for you.” That part was completely blank. Had I only thought about writing it and not actually done it? No—everything else was still there, including the final line: “From your fan.” “...How could this be?” Even seeing it with my own eyes, I couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t a pencil, it was a pen. I’d cried the whole time I was writing it, the ink kept smudging, And it took three tries to finish it. How... is this possible? I couldn’t bring myself to outright say “You die in the future,” So I had agonized over how to write it delicately—and yet... “Huh?” A voice from the front made me lift my head, still agape. Baek In-hyeok and Seon-jae were walking side by side toward the gate. I quickly crumpled the letter and shoved it in my pocket. “Were you waiting to see Seon-jae?” Baek In-hyeok looked between me and Seon-jae as he asked. I had been. Until I saw that the letter was messed up. I had come here to hand it to him. But damn it—why the hell did that part vanish? “Ah, no? I was meeting a friend.” “A friend? You’ve got a friend at this school?” “I do. Deok-bae.” “Deooook-baaaae?” Baek In-hyeok asked with exaggerated disbelief, like he couldn’t believe someone had that name. I cleared my throat and turned my gaze toward the field. As if to say: “My business has nothing to do with you two.” “...Let’s go.” Seon-jae said in a low voice, walking ahead out of the gate. Baek In-hyeok mumbled “Deok-bae...” a few more times as he followed, looking like he was trying to remember if anyone with that name actually existed. I peeked toward the field as if someone named Deok-bae really might appear. Then—suddenly—a realization struck me. I pulled the crumpled letter back out of my pocket and opened it. “...Wait. Is it impossible to say things from the future?” How else could this one sentence—just that one—have disappeared? “...Damn.” My head drooped on its own. I had a bad feeling this was not going to be easy.