The grass beneath us was cool and soft, still damp from the morning dew. It brushed against my skin as I stretched out beside Sana, my eyes lazily tracing the outline of a nearby tree. The sun was warm, casting dappled patterns of light through the leaves above. In the distance, kids were laughing, a dog barked at something unseen, and the wind whispered through the trees.

• "Which one will you open?" - Sana’s voice was quiet, curious. She reached across the small gap between us, her fingers brushing against my arm. I turned my head to meet her gaze. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief, a half-smile playing on her lips.

I hesitated for a moment, staring at the open backpack beside us. The letters felt heavy today, like they held more than just words.

• "I’m not sure," I admitted, forcing a grin. "Let’s leave it up to fate. Just grab one at random."

She rolled onto her side, reaching into the bag with a deliberate slowness. Her fingers disappeared inside for a second before pulling out a slightly crumpled envelope. The edges were worn from being carried around too long. She held it out to me.

The envelope felt oddly heavy in my hands. There was a sense of finality as I carefully tore it open, my heart beating a little too fast. Inside, two silver initials tumbled out, catching the light—a "Y" and a "J".

I cursed under my breath when the "J" slipped from my grasp, disappearing into the grass at my feet. Sana chuckled beside me, her quick hands retrieving it before I even had a chance to bend down.

• "You’re lucky it’s shiny," she teased, holding the initial out between her fingers, her nails painted a soft blue. I laughed, but it felt hollow.

We attached the initials to my bracelet, our fingers brushing lightly. I glanced at her, but she was already staring at the letter, her brow furrowed slightly. Something about today felt different. Heavier.

• "Breathe," she urged softly. "Whatever happens, I’m right here."

  I nodded, though my heart raced, and opened the letter, bracing myself for the familiar plunge into uncertainty.

  Everything shifted in a heartbeat. The vibrant world around me dulled, as if a painter had washed over the canvas with gray. The joyful sounds of nature became muffled, distant, and the once-soft grass now felt like cold needles pricking my skin.

  I’d been here before, many times, but this time was different. It wasn’t the all-consuming panic that usually enveloped me, but a sharper, clearer discomfort. The line between this world and reality felt more defined, almost tangible, as if I could reach out and touch it.

  “Hyung! You said five minutes. It’s been ten! You can’t keep escaping like this—you promised!”

  Ji’s voice cut through the fog, pulling me back. I blinked against the sudden brightness, squinting as he helped me to my feet. His grip was firm, reassuring, yet I felt the chaos swirling inside me. My head spun as black spots danced before my eyes.

  "Yeah, yeah," I muttered, rubbing my neck, trying to shake off the unease. "I’m up." The skateboard at my feet gleamed, deceptively innocent, as Ji nudged it toward me, eyes sparkling with an urgency I couldn’t ignore.

  "Come on, get on the board." His casual tone belied the intensity of his gaze. I could sense it—the unspoken weight of expectation pressing down on both of us.

  "Are you serious? There’s no way I’m getting on that thing."

  But before I could voice my protest, Ji grinned, placing my foot on the board with an ease that surprised me. His hands steadied me as I wobbled, the ground swaying beneath me for a moment, yet somehow I found my balance.

  "There’s always a way, Hyung," he insisted, determination lacing his words. "We need this. We have to win, or we don’t stand a chance."

  I swallowed hard, fear tightening around my throat. I shifted my weight, bracing for a fall that never came. Instead, I found myself gliding, the familiar motion surprising me, even as my mind raced to catch up with my body.

  “Look at you go! You’re riding better than all my peers, Hyung! I’m sure we’ll win together, and I’ll escape this hell!” His excitement ignited something within me, and for a moment, I focused on his words, feeling the weight of his expectations settle on my shoulders.

  “This hell?” I echoed, confusion gripping me as I caught a fleeting glimpse of the fear in his eyes.

  Suddenly, I heard a loud shout—“Watch out!”—before I found myself crashing to the ground, the world spinning wildly around me.

  “Oof…” I groaned as I sat up, startled to find Jaesung looming over me.

  “Jaesung? God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you!” I exclaimed, scrambling to pull him up. But as I looked closer, I realized it wasn’t him after all. How could I have mixed them up?

  “Jaesung? Is that what I’m called now, Keith?” The man laughed, his voice unsettlingly familiar. I turned my gaze away, retreating to Ji, who still insisted on calling me “Hyung.”

  “I must have imagined it,” I whispered, avoiding the man who claimed to be my "subconscious."

  “Hyung, are you okay? How did you even fall? Did something scare you? Who’s Jaesung?” Ji’s questions tumbled out, worry etched on his young face. I exchanged a glance with the man beside me, who merely shrugged, a playful smirk gracing his lips.

  “He can’t see me, Keith. Don’t look so bewildered,” he said, and I sighed, resigned to my fate.

  “I’m fine; I just thought I saw a squirrel. I didn’t want to hit it. I had a pet named Jaesung—a flying squirrel, actually. But due to one of my careless mistakes, I lost him.” The words tumbled out, and I tucked the skateboard under my arm, its weight a reminder of the chaos swirling inside.

  “I understand! I promise to help you find it after we win the race!” Ji beamed, extending his small hand towards mine, his innocence and determination radiating from him.

  “Thank you, but why is winning so important to you?” I asked, grasping his tiny hand, but as the question escaped my lips, I noticed his smile falter, shadows creeping into his expression.

  “You know… they even waited for me after school yesterday. They said Mr. Ho isn’t pleased that I lost his merchandise. If I don’t return the money after the race, things could get really ugly for me.” His voice trembled slightly, fear seeping through the bravado he tried to maintain.

  I listened, piecing together the fragments of his situation. This wasn’t just a trivial race; it was a grim web of consequences that threatened to ensnare him.

  “Don’t worry; we’ll win!” I smiled reassuringly, placing a hand on his shoulder, hoping to lift Young-'Ji’s spirits. But just as he returned my smile, his presence evaporated, leaving me standing alone in a dimly lit, unfamiliar room.

  The sudden shift startled me, but it didn’t slow my reflexes. I quickly pulled out my phone to check the time—5:30 PM, Tuesday. Panic surged through me as I recalled that I hadn’t checked the time since entering this bizarre semi-reality. Fantastic.

  “God, Keith, you’re such an idiot!” I muttered under my breath, slapping a hand to my forehead, desperately trying to devise a solution to my predicament. But before I could gather my thoughts, a voice broke through my spiraling anxiety.

  “11:35 AM, Monday.” I turned sharply to find the man standing behind me, a reassuring presence that anchored me in this whirlwind of confusion. Without him, I doubted I could manage even Baeck’s case, let alone this one.

  “Thank you…” I exhaled slowly, relief flooding my senses. I took a moment to steady my breathing, needing to think clearly while I had the chance.

  “What have you figured out so far?” he asked, redirecting my attention back to him.

  “His name is Young-'Ji. He’s in deep trouble with the mafia, needing money to settle his debts. For some reason, the time frames from then to now feel eerily close.” I spoke aloud, my words tumbling out as I tried to process everything. The man listened intently, nodding along as I spoke.

  “By the way, what should I call you? I can’t keep calling you ‘Keith Two’ or something like that; it feels ridiculous.” I laughed nervously, but the man didn’t respond immediately. A heavy silence enveloped us, stretching on for what felt like ages, during which I hesitated to break it.

  “Ong Seoho, but you can just call me Seoho.” He smiled, and I nodded, a sense of relief washing over me as we established a connection amidst the chaos.

  “Alright then, Seoho. What do you think will happen next?” I asked, shifting my weight as I leaned against the wall, trying to read his expression.

  “I can’t say for sure, Keith, but I can tell you this: things aren’t as easy as they seem. All of this… it has nothing to do with Baeck’s situation.” His words struck a chord, resonating with the tension building in my chest.

  He was right; I had no clue what lay ahead and couldn’t compare it to anything else. I certainly couldn’t afford to underestimate it.

  “What are you talking about? There’s always something I can use to help from the past…” Before I could finish my thought, my phone vibrated violently in my sweatshirt pocket. As I pulled it out, my heart sank at the message glaring back at me.

  “Mr. Hyun, this is a reminder about the meeting on 12.04.2024, at 6:00 PM, behind the square, before the race. We would be pleased to discuss the upcoming events concerning Young-'Ji. Please be punctual. Keep your promise.
  With great pleasure,
  S.H.”