Chapter 6

I looked around carefully. Checked the right hallway, then the left. Ryu Seon-jae wasn’t there. Confirmed. With my surveillance complete, I quietly slipped into Class 7. I crouched down and walked step by step toward Seon-jae’s desk. After placing the neatly folded note inside his desk drawer, I walked out through the front door. “Today, too, one note delivered.” It felt like a status message floating above my head. I was walking down the hallway, basking in the satisfaction of a completed mission, when I saw Seon-jae walking toward me from the other end. Panic kicked in. I looked around frantically. I had two options: either duck into the classroom beside me or turn around and retreat down the opposite hallway. I turned—only to see Baek In-hyeok walking toward me. Oh, for the love of— You two are always stuck together, and today of all days you’re coming separately? I pulled up my hoodie and walked toward In-hyeok instead. “Well, well. Look who it is.” Baek In-hyeok widened his eyes at me and even gave a cheerful smile. I slapped a finger to my lips with a sharp “Shh,” worried he’d call out to Seon-jae walking behind me. “In-hyeok.” And of course, speak of the devil—Seon-jae’s voice # Nоvеlight # came from behind. The message above my head lit up in red: Today, too, one note delivered — DANGER. My shoulders slumped as I sighed. I hadn’t even seen Seon-jae’s face yet, but I could already picture the whole encounter. What excuse should I give this time...? I was deep in thought when I felt a long arm drop over my shoulder. Baek In-hyeok yanked my hoodie down over my face, cutting off my vision. “Did you talk to the homeroom teacher?” “Yeah. He said I could go.” What is even happening right now? I wanted to run, but In-hyeok had a grip on my shoulder, so I couldn’t move. I ducked my head as much as I could and stayed quiet. Their conversation paused. Were they communicating with looks? Lip-reading? “This kid’s in our class. Grab your bag and meet me out front. I’ll be right out.” “Okay.” Silence again. Did Seon-jae leave? I stayed still, just in case. Then In-hyeok lifted the hood from my face. The sudden brightness revealed his face right in front of me. “How many times did you roll up those pants?” What do you want me to do? Seon-jae’s legs are too long. “Why don’t you just confess you like him already? What’s with sneaking around to deliver notes like this? It’s weird.” “Notes? He read it?” “He didn’t say what it was about, though.” In-hyeok patted my shoulder. When I blinked up at him, he even gave me a sympathetic look. “Honestly, it’s not a great method. He didn’t seem to like it. I’m telling you this for your own good.” Of course. Why would he like it? That wasn’t a love letter—it was a letter from the future. I let out a deep sigh. In-hyeok said, “Seon-jae’s coming,” and turned to leave. Right. This wasn’t the time to be standing around. I rushed past him, taking the stairs two at a time. As I went down, I thought of Seon-jae opening today’s note. Imagining the deadly look on his face already made my chest ache. One of the hardest parts of being in the past was not being able to listen to Potato Pancakes’ songs. Every time a new song dropped, I’d stream the full album the moment it was released, picking out Seon-jae’s voice. For someone who was added to the group late, Seon-jae had a surprisingly large number of lines. That, of course, led to a lot of hate. Fans were furious that the other members—especially Baek In-hyeok—got fewer parts. That might have been why Baek In-hyeok’s fans had practically turned into anti-Seon-jae crusaders, igniting the Potato Battle, the Potato War. “I wanna hear Seon-jae’s version of The Memory of the Wind again.” I rested my chin in my hand and stared at the wall with nothing on it but a calendar. Even though I’d seen Seon-jae alive and moving with my own eyes, the room still felt empty without his photo. It was like he wasn’t that Seon-jae—the one from Potato Pancakes. I picked up a pencil and stood in front of the calendar. I crossed off today’s date. The lines I’d drawn since the beginning of this journey were starting to fill the calendar like rain streaks. “Will I ever get to go back?” I sat at my desk and opened the drawer to take out the pocket watch. It ticked, but something about it felt off. I’d never owned a pocket watch before—not in the past, not even seen one. And I wasn’t supposed to have brought anything with me from the future, yet this had come along. Is this what triggered the time jump? I held it close to my face, stared at it for a moment, then tucked it back into the drawer. “Oh—this.” Just as I was closing the drawer, I spotted my MP3 player. An old thing I’d bought off a secondhand site for ten thousand won, back when everyone else had moved on to iPods. I bought it just to save my phone’s battery. “No way.” I pressed the power button. Nothing. I went to the living room, popped the batteries out of the TV remote, and stuck them into the MP3 player. This time, it powered on. The iRiver logo flashed and disappeared. It still had over a hundred tracks I’d listened to back then. “Aren’t you going to school tomorrow? Go to bed.” “Oh—yeah.” Mom had just come out of the bathroom and was about to turn off the living room lights. She gestured at me to get to bed. I nodded, stood up from the couch, and headed to my room. Flopping down on the bed, I plugged in my earphones and started scrolling through the songs. “Sol.” Mom’s voice called from the door. I pulled the earphones out and looked up. “You haven’t talked about dropping out lately.” “Well... yeah, I guess not.” “Is school boring without Hyeon-joo?” The gentle way she asked felt unfamiliar. Mom’s usually the type to barge into my apartment with banchan and smack me with a rolled-up magazine when she sees beer cans on the floor. “No. It’s actually been fun lately.” I answered without any expression—then broke into a bright smile. Mom smiled, too. “That’s good.” “Good night.” “You too.” She turned off the lights and quietly closed the door. Darkness. Maybe because this was six years ago, and maybe because this was the past—my mom felt younger somehow. It wasn’t even a sad conversation, but my throat tightened. Mom looked really young. My nose stung. I scrunched up my face to hold back tears. I pulled the blanket over my head and browsed the song list. It was full of old hits and albums from my favorite artists. I had practically worn out Lee Moon-sae’s third album. I hit play and stared blankly at the ceiling as the music started. After Hyeon-joo transferred schools, I used to cry to this song on the way home. And suddenly, I remembered the me from before I time-traveled—crying in my room. What if, even after all this, Seon-jae still doesn’t make it to twenty-four? My vision blurred. Seeing Seon-jae smile now, not knowing his future, made my heart ache even more. I squeezed my face tight. A hot tear slipped from the corner of my eye. Is this what being a fan feels like? Loving someone so much it hurts? All I ever wanted was for Seon-jae to be happy. For him not to be in pain. That subway news article kept flashing in my mind. Seon-jae, in a hoodie and shorts, sick with a cold, taking medicine to sleep—medicine that never let him wake up. That version of Seon-jae was nothing like the one I saw here. My throat burned from holding back the sobs. I pulled the blanket up over my face. Unintended hiccuping noises escaped. “Oh my god.” I stepped into the bathroom to brush my teeth and recoiled at the sight in the mirror. My eyes were swollen like I’d been stung by bees. I couldn’t even see my pupils. How could human eyes puff up this much? I stood there in shock, staring at my reflection. I was so thrown off, I didn’t even think to turn on the faucet. “This... this is bad.” After a while, I finally squeezed toothpaste onto my toothbrush. No matter how terrible I looked, I still had to go to school. I wrapped a scarf around my neck before heading out—the sudden drop in temperature had made the morning bitterly cold. After getting off the bus, I walked toward school, listening to a song from the MP3 player I’d found yesterday. Wearing a school uniform and listening to music like this reminded me of my past self. Strangely, it didn’t feel bad. But when I finally reached the school and saw the nameplate on the front gate, I froze. I stood rooted in place, stunned, then squeezed my eyes shut and reopened them. Still there. Even with my eyes wide open or closed and reopened, it hadn’t changed. Jagam High School. What the hell? Why did I come here? Sure, I’d been coming here frequently over the past few days to slip notes into Seon-jae’s desk—but to end up here first thing in the morning? Was my subconscious really that terrifying? I pulled out my phone and checked the time. 7:30 a.m. I thought I was early, but if I left now, I’d still definitely be late. I turned around, ready to run back the way I came— —and crashed head-on into someone. “Ugh!” My body jolted backward, and my phone flew out of my hand, landing on the ground. “Oh, I’m sorry.” The other person bent down, picked it up, and held it out to me. I bowed my head in thanks as I accepted it— —and when I looked up, my already-swollen eyes widened. “...Oh.” Seon-jae. He recognized me, too, his gaze locking with mine. But he didn’t say anything, like he didn’t want to acknowledge it. I’d spent the whole night crying while thinking about him, and now here he was in front of me. It was surprising—but I couldn’t deny a flicker of joy. I fiddled nervously with my phone, then gave a faint smile. “Hi.” “You don’t go to this school, right?” His voice came out cold—colder than the morning air. “Uh...” I trailed off, then nodded. “I don’t know how you know who I am, but this is stalking.” “What? No, it’s not like that.” “How did you even find my Used Market account?” “I didn’t know it was you, seriously.” “Then why did you buy the gym uniform?” “Oh, that was...” “Why did you call me to the snack shop?” “What? No, that was because I lost my bag—” Seon-jae’s expression was colder than the wind. He looked down at my name tag with a displeased glance, one hand stuffed in his pocket as he stepped closer. “I don’t even have a fan café.” “That’s...” “I didn’t even tell anyone I joined the agency.” His expression was the very definition of annoyed. He stepped closer again. The proximity made me flinch and step back. “If I see you at this school again—” His eyes, swollen and tired-looking like mine, blinked slowly. I expected him to follow it up with something like “I’ll kill you”, like last time. But he didn’t. He just brushed past me and entered through the school gate. Last time, he’d said, “Try saying my name again,” and now, “Try showing up at this school again.” At this point, if I so much as glance at him, it might not end with just a glare. I watched him walk across the school yard, then turned away. I didn’t feel like running anymore—maybe because I was already going to be late, or maybe because of Seon-jae. I couldn’t blame him. I really couldn’t. It made sense he’d be upset. Still, Seon-jae... I didn’t have a choice. The look on his face—it felt like something that would scar me for a long time. As I trudged down the road, someone appeared ahead of me, bending over to peek at my face. When I raised my head, the face wrapped in a scarf, Baek In-hye,o k blinked in surprise. “I knew it. It is you.” He stepped in front of me, hands in his pockets. “What happened to your eyes? Did you cry?” I stuck out my lower lip and looked up at him. He was stupidly tall. “You came to see Seon-jae first thing in the morning? That’s some dedication.” “No! I didn’t! I ended up here unconsciously. I wasn’t trying to see him.” I snapped back, and In-hyeok gave me a puzzled look. Since I’d already started explaining, I decided to finish it. I pointed my finger straight at him. “Tell Ryu Seon-jae properly. It’s really not like that.” “Not like what?” “The Used Market stuff. Seeing him this morning. It was just st coincidence.” In-hyeok shrugged, nodded, and said, “Got it.” Feeling a sudden sting of resentment, I gave him a sharp glare and swung my arms dramatically as I stomped off down the road. When I looked back over my shoulder, I saw his figure walking calmly toward the school gate. That’s it. I’m not going near them again. I let out a long sigh and kept walking. During cleaning time, the homeroom teacher handed me a trash bag and a trash picker. I’d been late, so this was my punishment—clean the school grounds. Dragging the oversized bag, I used the picker to gather bits of trash from the ground and flower beds. He told me to fill at least half the bag. But with just chip wrappers and torn paper, there was no way I could reach that volume. The bag was 50 liters. “How am I supposed to fill this thing?” I tilted my head back and stared at the unbelievably blue sky. “If I see you at this school again—” The clouds began to shift, morphing into Seon-jae’s cold, disapproving face. An unfamiliar girl suddenly calling his name, hugging him, declaring her love, showing up as a Used Market buyer— Yeah. Of course, he’d be upset. I understood it logically. But emotionally, it still hurt. I cried all night thinking about you, Seon-jae. You’re someone so precious to me. I know it makes no sense to expect you to understand—but it still feels unfair. That Used Market thing wasn’t planned. I really didn’t know. Pouting, I picked up a fallen leaf and dropped it into the bag. My homeroom teacher looked back and forth between me and the trash bag in disbelief. It was filled with ginkgo and dry leaves. “There are chip wrappers and scrap paper at the bottom,” I offered weakly. “Wow.” He smirked, and I bowed my head. “Next time you’re late, you’re watering the flower beds.” “...Yes.” “Go on, then.” I bowed again and walked back into the classroom. I sat down at my desk and opened my textbook, but a long sigh slipped out. I felt drained. Just... gloomy. Now that I was in the past, I could’ve tried changing other things—my grades, the college entrance exam, my university, even my life path. But nothing else interested me. I didn’t even think I’d done badly on the CSAT, and I didn’t hate my college. If there was one thing I wanted to do... It was going to school without feeling like a miserable outsider. Back then, after Hyeon-joo transferred, I was always drifting, always alone. And even now, in my second round of being eighteen, I was still adrift. I rested my chin on my hand and glanced at the clock on the wall. I thought of Seon-jae lifting my bag from the hook. Did he hear what Baek In-hyeok and I were saying in the hallway? Or was it just his way of saying “Take your stuff and get out”? “I'm Sol.” I looked up when the teacher called my name from the front of the classroom. “Class just started. Stop staring at the clock and look at your book.” “Oh, right. Sorry.” I smiled awkwardly and looked down at the page. For some reason, I thought— I really need to eat something good today.