The Best of Tomorrow-Chapter 2.3

□ ■ □

When I stepped through the front door, a pair of unusually large shoes were sitting in the entryway. That meant Dad was home.

“Dad, you’re home?”

I kicked off my shoes and rushed inside. On the living room sofa sat Mom and Dad side by side—but something felt off.

Their faces were grim, and in Dad’s hand was a bamboo sword. The jukdo—his prized kendo weapon and, unfortunately, also his weapon of “loving discipline.”

“What’s with the faces? Did something happen?”

I asked while taking off my coat. A single sheet of paper sat on the coffee table.

“Sit down.”

The heaviness in the air wiped the smile off my face. I laid my coat on the sofa and sat on the floor. Dad thumped the bamboo sword on the paper and shoved it toward me. The jukdo slid the paper forward, then withdrew.

I looked down to see what it was.

A report card.

“Uh...”

“What’s it say there?”

“A... report card?”

“Look at your scores.”

My lips went dry. Even I could see how drastically the midterms and finals differed. Literature, Korean history, world geography, ethics—they were okay. But math and English were a disaster.

“You threw a tantrum about quitting school, then what? You didn’t study at all and just walked into the exams?”

Dad’s voice was sharp. I hung my head, unable to say anything.

I didn’t study. Of course I didn’t. I was from the future. I hadn’t given a single damn about grades. All I’d cared about was changing Seon-jae’s fate. I hadn’t once stopped to think that I was also rewriting my own past.

When I first time-traveled, it was early November. There were only a few weeks until finals. Sure, my eighteen-year-old self would’ve tried to cram, but that wouldn’t have been enough time.

I’d never once thought my future might change.

Looking at these scores... maybe I was ruining myself.

As I stared at the plummeting grades and tanked class rank, a bamboo sword came down on my head.

“Ow! Why’d you hit me in the head?! That’ll make me stupid!”

“Looks like that ship’s already sailed!”

“Not true!”

“And you think you’re gonna get into college like this?”

I did go to college. In the future, I had. But now... I felt a chill. What if, when I returned to my time, things were different? What if I wasn’t in college anymore?

What if I wasn’t even taking a second gap year, but a fifth?

Suddenly I remembered—I was waiting for the results of a final interview with a subcontract production company. The results were supposed to come out on January ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) 5th.

What if, when I went back, that interview never happened?

What if I didn’t even exist in their records?

Panic crept in. My face twisted in a near-tearful frown.

Mom looked at me and clicked her tongue.

“Guess you are sad about the grades.”

“Try harder, you brat. You’re in senior year now.”

Dad thumped the floor with the bamboo sword and got up. Then, without warning, he began practicing kendo. The bamboo sword sliced through the air with sharp whish sounds.

I slunk into my room, shoulders drooped.

Closing the door behind me, I collapsed on the bed and stared at my school uniform hanging on the wall.

I hadn’t even eaten, but my chest felt heavy, like I had indigestion.

Maybe it was time to go back.

I couldn’t study here, and I had no desire whatsoever to relive senior year.

I sat up and pulled the pocket watch out of my uniform jacket.

I stuffed it in my pants pocket and laid back down, rolling around on the bed.

Nothing happened.

“...So that’s not it.”

I took the watch out and examined it. Pressed every protruding bit. Blinked and scanned the room.

The clock on the wall ticked on, second hand in rhythm.

“Sweetie, come eat,” Mom called from outside.

I stayed right where I was.

□ ■ □

Late at night, I was home alone.

Dad had a college alumni trip today—he and Mom had left in the afternoon, bags packed for an overnight couple’s getaway.

I sat on the living room couch, nibbling dried squid and finishing off the last of the beer in the fridge.

Depressed and heavy-hearted, this golden opportunity had fallen into my lap.

I flipped through channels, beer can in hand. It felt light—I shook it.

“Already finished?”

Two crushed cans sat on the table. I wanted to get wasted, but that was all the alcohol left in the house.

“Ugh, screw it.”

I threw on a coat, grabbed my MP3 player, wallet, and phone, and stepped out.

Time to embark on a noble quest: find a convenience store that won’t check ID.

□ ■ □

Seven rejections later.

The world was far less lenient toward minors than I’d remembered.

How did those kids behind the gym get cigarettes or alcohol anyway?

Shivering, I trudged along. Even the slight buzz I’d had was fading in the cold.

I checked the time: 1:20 a.m.

Back in the past, I never could’ve imagined being out at this hour.

Of course not—I was a minor, and midnight was scary.

But twenty-four-year-old me had spent four years stumbling home drunk in the early morning hours.

This time of night felt... familiar.

Old music flowed from my MP3 as I walked the quiet streets. Not a bad feeling at all.

If I had more booze, it’d be perfect.

I walked aimlessly. Eventually, I found myself near 66 Entertainment. I’d walked two subway stops.

God, the subconscious is terrifying.

I shook my head and turned around. I’d already gone too far from home.

Dragging my feet, I spotted someone across the street walking in the same direction.

Hood pulled up over a puffer coat, hands buried in pockets, slippers scraping the ground.

Something about them caught my eye. I kept glancing.

Then the person turned and headed toward the bridge.

The wind blew the hood down.

He didn’t fix it. He just kept walking.

The back of his head looked familiar.

That’s... Seon-jae?

It was past 1 a.m.

Didn’t look like he was catching a cab. Didn’t look like he was meeting anyone either.

I stared at his slippers.

Wait—wasn’t this the story he told on the radio? The worst night of his trainee life?

He’d lost his wallet. Had no money. Practice had gone late, and he couldn’t call home. So he walked two-plus hours all the way across the bridge.

His phone had died, so he couldn’t even listen to music.

He said the lights reflected on the Han River that night were the saddest thing he’d ever seen.

I stopped at the crosswalk and watched his retreating figure.

I had a wallet. I could lend him taxi fare.

But if I ran into him like this, he’d definitely say, You’re terrifying, you know that?!

So I zipped my coat all the way up and wrapped my scarf around my face, covering everything below the eyes.

As soon as the signal changed, I bolted after him.

Once I got close, I slowed, took out two ten-thousand won bills from my wallet, and made sure the scarf was still hiding my face.

I walked ahead of him and let the bills slip from my hand.

“Oh? It’s flying away,” I muttered.

From behind me, Seon-jae’s voice rang out,

“Huh? It’s flying.”

I almost ran again, but glanced back.

My plan had been simple: Drop the money. Disappear. He finds it, doesn’t know what to do, and maybe—hopefully—uses it to grab a cab.

But the bills weren’t staying put.

They were fluttering toward the edge of the bridge.

Wait—no, not there...

One of them was about to fall into the river.

I rushed forward, stretching out my hand.

I grabbed the railing, leaned out, reaching for the flying bill.

“Ah—ah—”

I stood on tiptoe, straining my arm...

And suddenly, someone grabbed the back of my coat and yanked me back.

“My money!”

I screamed as I watched the bill flutter away.

I turned to look at the person holding my collar.

Seon-jae.

He looked utterly dumbfounded.

“Are you insane?!”

“Huh? No! I swear I was just passing by! Just—just randomly!”

I tried to step back, but he pulled harder. My thick coat slammed into his puffer. I tried to shift away, but with my collar in his grip, our shoulders stayed pressed.

I looked up, eyes wide.

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then didn’t.

With his other hand, he pulled down my scarf.

“Hey. Im Sol.”

“...Huh?”

“You’re the one who needs to read that book.”

“...What?”

“That book. The 500 Unluckiest People Who Ever Died.”

“...Ah...”

The book I gave him.

Was he saying I’d almost ended up like one of them?

He bent down, picked up the remaining bill, and held it out to me.

“No, no—that’s not mine. You found it, so it’s yours.”

“Right... I literally saw you drop it.”

“What? No—”

He shoved the money into my coat pocket.

“This is weird.”

“No, I don’t need it. Just keep it.”

I tried to hand it back.

He stared at me like I was completely insane.

God. How do I explain you’re literally walking home because you don’t have money?

He looked at my face for a moment—then suddenly leaned forward.

Our faces were inches apart.

My heart nearly stopped.

I couldn’t meet his eyes. I stared into space.

He pulled back and frowned.

“...Did you drink?”

“...Huh? Oh. Can you smell it?”

I cupped my hands over my mouth and exhaled. A puff of condensation passed through my fingers.

“Im Sol’s gone rogue. Drinking as a student.”

That’s not me. I’m not like that. I’m the type who bows and uses honorifics around scary kids.

But I had drunk, so I stayed silent and looked away.

The city lights shimmered across the dark river.

“What are you even doing out this late?”

“Oh, I... went out to buy alcohol.”

I swallowed the second part—but I couldn’t find any, so I’m heading home.

Seon-jae frowned.

“Guess you didn’t find any.”

“Yeah. No. I just... had some stuff on my mind.”

No matter what I said, it sounded like a mess.

I wanted to scream I’ve completely fucked up, but held it in.

“...You heading home?”

“Yeah. Just walking to clear my head.”

“In this cold?”

“It’s fine. Like I said. Needed some air.”

I fiddled in my pocket, pulled out my MP3 player, and held it out.

If I couldn’t give him taxi fare, I could at least give him music.

He looked down at it in my hand, then looked up at me.

“Wanna listen?”

He kept eye contact without replying.

“It’s not a tribute, okay? I’m just letting you borrow it.”

He stared at me a beat longer—then took it.

He clicked the power button, flipped it over.

“This thing’s ancient.”

He pressed a few buttons.

“Does this even have music in it?”

“Yeah. Looks crappy, but it’s full.”

He kept fiddling.

“Oh—I like this one.”

I glanced sideways to see what song it was, and he offered me one earbud.

I blinked at him. Then the earbud. Then him again.

He was asking me to listen together?

Disbelieving, I took it with trembling hands.

I fiddled with it, then finally put it in.

My face felt hot—I pulled the scarf up over my nose.

The music began.

Lee Moon-sae’s “Forever With You.”

Dad’s favorite karaoke song—he sang it three times every visit, and I’d grown to love it too.

A chill breeze slipped beneath my collar. My fingertips were red on the railing.

Seon-jae and I stood side by side, silently listening.

The city lights shimmered on the dark Han River—floating above, or maybe sinking deep beneath.

Dark and bright all at once. A strange harmony.

I glanced at Seon-jae’s face. His hair, tousled by the wind, had fallen over his forehead. As I lowered my gaze, I saw the firm line of his nose and the lips that jutted slightly beneath it. Seon-jae, who had been staring straight ahead with his lips tightly shut, slowly parted them.

“It’s strange.”

“Huh?”

I responded reflexively to Seon-jae’s words, then quickly looked away, pulling up my scarf as if I’d been caught secretly watching him.

“It’s seriously weird.”

What’s weird? Is he saying I’m weird? I bit my lip and looked off into the distance. The day Seon-jae once said on the radio was the hardest of his trainee years had now become an early morning with music. I had suddenly appeared in front of him, trudging along in slippers, and handed him my MP3 player.

I wondered how Seon-jae would remember today. I hoped he’d remember it as a slightly less difficult day. I looked up at the sky. The music playing seemed to suit the early morning vibe, and I thought it might comfort Seon-jae—when the song ended, and the next track began.

Oh, this song... I used to listen to it for courage when I ran into scary students in dark alleys.

From the very beginning, it blasted curses like, “So what the fuck are you gonna do?” Seon-jae, who had been steadily looking forward, turned his head and glanced at me. Even though it was my MP3 player, I looked at him like I had no idea. The curses kept flowing in time with the beat, leaking into both our ears. When I laughed awkwardly, Seon-jae met my eyes with a blank expression. Then, without hesitation, he said,

“The more I think about it, the weirder this gets.”

□ ■ □

I was flipping through channels when I stumbled upon a home shopping show selling products from the Sleeping Beauty brand. I stopped. They were selling an “aroma sleep kit” that supposedly stabilized the mind and body while sleeping, helped induce deep rest, and made waking up feel refreshing. A bust shot showed foreigners waking up in beds set in the middle of a forest, stretching and smiling. This was it.

I used Mom’s phone to dial the home shopping order number and got connected. There was a credit card tucked into the phone case. I already knew Mom’s card and bank account password were the same as the passcode for our front door.

Still holding the phone, I quietly snuck into my room. When the operator answered, I lowered my voice and whispered,

“I’d like to order the sleep kit.”

□ ■ □

It was our school’s founding day, so I was sprawled in bed, sleeping in. Someone came to the door. I rubbed my eyes and called out, “Who is it?” A voice from outside replied, “Delivery!”

I opened the door and took the box. I checked the label. “Aroma Sleep Kit.” Nice timing.

A delivery arriving on the founding day had to be a sign from the heavens, telling me to hand it over to Seon-jae today. I set the box down on the table and dashed into the bathroom. I figured I’d be wearing my Jagam High School gym uniform as my “going out” outfit.

I threw on the gym uniform with a tteokbokki coat over it. I carried the shopping bag with the aroma sleep kit inside and got on a bus. I checked the time on my phone. It was 1:50 p.m. If their schedule was like ours, their sixth period would end at 3 p.m. Then they’d clean up, and seventh period would start around 3:30.

My plan was to sneak into the classroom during cleaning time and hang the shopping bag on Seon-jae’s chair. Just in case someone thought it wasn’t theirs and took it, I had written RYU SEON-JAE in big letters on the box with a marker.

I got off the bus and headed to Jagam High. There was no one at the front gate, but I couldn’t bring myself to go in. It felt like some kind of barrier was cast over it, and the moment I stepped through, some guy with a flute would shout, “Hey, you punk!” and come charging at me.

So I hovered near the gate for a bit before heading toward the gym wall. The gym blocked the view of the field, so if I climbed over here, I wouldn’t be seen. I wound the shopping bag’s handles around my wrist. I reached up and grabbed the wall. I put a foot in the gap between the bricks and hoisted myself up, swinging one leg over the wall. Pressing my chest against the top of the wall, I shifted my whole body over.

I clung to the wall, my legs flailing midair. The outside ground was higher, so I’d been able to grab the top on tiptoe, but on the inside, no matter how I stretched, my feet couldn’t reach the ground. I looked down, trying to find something to land on—only to lock eyes with someone sitting pressed up against the wall.

“Oh?”

It was Baek In-hyuk. My gaze moved from his eyes to his mouth—and then to his hands. What was that between his fingers?

My mouth fell open in shock. In-hyuk tapped the ash off his cigarette, snuffed it out, straightened his knees, and looked up at me hanging from the wall.

“Holy shit. You smoke?”

I asked, and In-hyuk made an awkward face. His gaze shifted to my legs, still dangling midair.

“Can you even get down?”

“Huh?”

My hands were starting to give out. The bricks on the outside had little indents for footholds, but the inside wall was flat—nowhere to wedge in a foot. I was just dangling there, nowhere to land.

“Don’t tell Seon-jae.”

“Hey, idols smoking is taboo. Taboo.”

“I’m still just a student, okay?”

“Which makes it even more taboo!”

I shouted as I struggled to hold myself up with trembling arms. In-hyuk stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Whoa, whoa!”

My body suddenly floated up, and my eyes widened. A second later, my feet hit the ground. I stepped back and looked up at In-hyuk’s face. He was always smiling, but today, he looked a little somber.

“I just felt so frustrated I bummed a smoke. Don’t tell Seon-jae, seriously. I don’t wanna get beaten to death.”

“Something happened?”

I dusted the dirt off my coat and asked. In-hyuk stuck one hand into his pants pocket and rubbed his temple with the other before speaking.

“You said it back then. That if Seon-jae didn’t make the debut team and I did, you’d raise hell.”

I looked up while brushing off more dirt.

“You knew?”

“Huh? Knew what?”

In-hyuk shoved his hand into his other pocket.

“That Seon-jae wasn’t picked for the debut team.”

□ ■ □

Sunlight streamed in through a wide window. The seventh period bell had already rung, but In-hyuk and I sat side by side in the unused music room. After sixth period, no one used the music room anymore. He told me if I ever needed a hiding spot again, to come here instead of behind the gym.

According to In-hyuk, the day the debut team list was released, Seon-jae stayed late practicing until dawn. He couldn’t sleep, so he tried calling Seon-jae, but the phone was off, which he found strange. An hour later, he tried again, and this time Seon-jae picked up, saying his battery had died and he had just gotten home. It was past 3 a.m.

‘At this hour? Why so late?’ he asked, and Seon-jae had replied, ‘I walked.’ In-hyuk had told him, ‘You idiot, why the hell would you walk home this late at night?’ and Seon-jae had just laughed blandly and said, ‘I lost my wallet.’

In-hyuk said it had been eating away at him so badly he smoked. The company and Seon-jae’s house were over two hours apart. That idiot walked that whole way in the middle of the night. It must’ve been hell, he said—with a deeply troubled look.

If my guess was right, that must’ve been the day I ran into Seon-jae on Gamgam Bridge. The day he named as the hardest of his trainee life. It hadn’t been hard just because he lost his wallet or couldn’t call home or had to walk a long distance without music.

I nodded with the same downcast face as In-hyuk.

“Seon-jae must’ve had a really rough time.”

“Obviously.”

The diagonal sunlight tilted more, shrinking the shadows. In-hyuk flopped onto his back on the platform.

“You told Yun-jae to do it, didn’t you?”

Huh? I turned my head to look down at him lying on the platform. Staring blankly at the ceiling, In-hyuk said,

“You’ve been making Yun-jae run errands all this time.”

Run errands... I asked for favors, okay...

“Out of nowhere, Yun-jae suddenly declared Ryu Seon-jae as our beacon of hope, I’m telling you!”

I had asked Seo Yun-jae to deliver a book to Seon-jae. I’d told him that if Seon-jae’s name wasn’t on the debut team list, he should stand in front of Kang Geun-soo and yell, “The hope of this group is Ryu Seon-jae!” And Seo Yun-jae had actually remembered and done it. That little punk. I’m proud of you!

In-hyuk lifted his head and shook the hood of my tteokbokki coat.

“It was you. You told Yun-jae to do it.”

“Wh-what? No I didn’t.”

In-hyuk squinted and tugged my hood down. I lost my balance and flopped beside him.

“Like Yun-jae's crazy enough to say that in front of the CEO on his own.”

I tried to make excuses but just gave an awkward laugh. I could never beat In-hyuk in an argument anyway.

“And one thing we need to settle for sure.”

“What?”

“You asked Yun-jae who the best-looking trainee was, right?”

“Oh, that was just...”

“Among all the trainees in our company, I am the best-looking.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t try to change Yun-jae's answer.”

In-hyuk poked my forehead with his index finger like he was giving a warning.

What the hell is he talking about...

The final bell rang. In-hyuk groaned, “Ugh-cha,” and got up. At this point, I figured there was no need to personally go to Seon-jae’s classroom.

“In-hyuk.”

As he stood, checking his phone, In-hyuk turned and looked at me.

“Can you give this to Seon-jae?”

I held out the shopping bag. He just stared at it and put his phone in his pocket without taking the bag.

“I don’t do shuttle errands.”

“But aren’t you going to your classroom now?”

“I’m skipping eighth period today.”

“Well, you’ve gotta go get your bag anyway. Just drop it off.”

In-hyuk shook his head.

“Seon-jae’s bringing my bag.”

“Huh?”

I didn’t even have time to be surprised. The back door of the music room slid open with a rattle. I sat on the platform, In-hyuk stood in front of me, and we both turned toward the sound.

“Hey, why are you bossing people around about who brings whose bag? You wanna die?”

Seon-jae stood in the doorway, a bag slung over each shoulder, one hand on the doorframe. He looked surprised to see me. Seon-jae glanced between me and In-hyuk. Uh-oh. This awkward air. I rolled my eyes, quickly placed the shopping bag on the platform, and bolted toward the front door. I grabbed the handle and pushed sideways with all my might, but it just rattled and wouldn’t open.

“It’s locked.”

That was Seon-jae’s voice. I turned my head in dismay. Seon-jae was still standing guard at the back door, staring at me—with a face that clearly said he was not amused.