The Best of Tomorrow-Chapter 3Vol 2. .

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Last weekend, I had distracted myself from thoughts of Seon-jae with a sudden cleaning spree—but now there was [N O V E L I G H T] nothing left to clean. In this too-clean house, I had no way to shake off thoughts of him, so I grabbed my bath basket and headed out. I figured I might as well scrub away the grime clinging to me—literally and figuratively.

With the locker key tied to a rubber band on my wrist, I stepped into the bathhouse. Steam filled the air, and the sound of running water echoed loudly.

There was a large public bathhouse at the main intersection, but I didn’t feel like going that far, so I chose the one just down the street from my place. It was a shabby bathhouse on the second floor of a three-story building. That’s how old it was—after paying the entrance fee, they handed you a wooden locker key tied to a rubber band. The locker number was inked on a wooden tag, the lettering faded from years of exposure to water.

When you entered the women’s bath, you passed through a curtain printed with densely packed roses. Beyond that was a tiny changing area with battered lockers lining one wall. Some of them were so loose that the doors looked like they would fall off the hinges if you opened them. Finding a locker that locked properly was a small victory.

Most of the clientele here were women in their fifties and sixties. They didn’t care much about whether the lockers closed. These were regulars—some like family—who came alone and left chatting in groups.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth, then soaped every inch of my body and rinsed off thoroughly. Wrapping a towel over my head, I stepped into the warm bath. I was braced for the heat, but the water was lukewarm.

At that temperature, there was no way I could wash away thoughts of Seon-jae.

I pulled my feet out and moved to the hot bath. The moment my toes touched the water, I reflexively gasped, “Ah! Hot!”

I glanced at the women already sitting comfortably inside, then slowly lowered both feet and sank in.

Just ten minutes, I told myself. But I lost track of time. I had gotten caught up in the conversation of a few ajummas chatting about a morning drama. I hadn’t even seen it, but from what I heard, it was a total melodrama involving time travel.

Kim Hyeong-cheol, who had died in a tragic fire, returned as a ghost and haunted his family, only to find out his wife had moved on to another man. Stricken with grief, he found himself suddenly transported back in time on a stormy, thunderous night—and began plotting revenge.

Some women sided with Kim Hyeong-cheol, saying he hadn’t done anything wrong. Others said, How long are you supposed to wait for someone who’s already dead? That’s just life.

In the middle of their debate, I blurted out, “But what if Kim Hyeong-cheol tells his wife, ‘I actually died but came back through time travel’? Would she believe him?” That sparked a whole new round of discussion that went on for over thirty minutes.

The conversation was as heated as the hot bath. For a moment, I thought maybe I’d find some clue here about how to tell Seon-jae the truth. But it had been a complete mistake—the talk spun wildly off course.

I couldn’t tell whether it was sweat or bathwater on my skin, but I started feeling dizzy from the heat and steam. It was hard to breathe. Time to get out, I thought, grabbing the edge of the tub and standing up.

The moment I stepped out, my vision blurred and dizziness overwhelmed me.

Oh no.

My legs gave out and I collapsed, catching myself with both hands on the ground. The world tilted like a spinning fan.

“Oh no, miss! Get a hold of yourself!”

Someone shook me, shouting. I tried to speak—It’s okay, I’m just a little dizzy, I’ll be fine in a moment—but the words tumbled out incoherently.

These women were fast. One grabbed the key from my wrist. Another shouted, “Check if she has a phone!”

Why my phone? I’ll be okay if I just rest a minute...

Yet another woman grabbed my legs and gently pulled me down flat on the floor. I stammered, “No, really, I’m fine,” but they weren’t listening. One of them came back with a plastic scoop full of water and dumped it on my face like a slap.

I squeezed my eyes shut, slowly raised one hand, and croaked out, “I’m okay.”

“Do you have anemia or anything?”

“...Ah...”

Right. I did. I forgot I had anemia. I blinked slowly—couldn’t even nod—and managed to whisper, “Yes, I do.”

At that moment, the bathhouse door slammed open and the woman who had taken my key shouted, “Chun-baek haksaeng! Someone’s coming, no need to call the ambulance!”

...Wait, what? Who’s coming? And how did she know the name Chun-baek?

I tried to sit up, but my arms gave out and I flopped back down. The woman holding my phone said, “No, no. Stay down, just rest.” She massaged my arm.

Someone else added, “She can’t stay in here—it’s too hot. Let’s take her outside!”

And so, with my limbs held by strangers, I was carried out of the bath. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of sin I must have committed in a past life to deserve this much embarrassment. All I could do was wait for the dizziness to pass.

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Once I was somewhat lucid again, a woman wearing what looked like a ten-don gold necklace handed me a yogurt drink.

“Feeling better now?”

I bowed, took the drink, and nodded.

“You must’ve been in there too long. Oh dear, you’ve got such a weak constitution.”

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Oh, we didn’t do much.”

She looked at me with concern. Didn’t do much? They did everything. I sucked on the straw as the other women, now standing, muttered, “All that soaking wasted—our skin’s going to wrinkle again,” and hurried back into the bath. The steam wafting from the open door was cut off as it closed.

I slurped the yogurt and thought, Guess I’m not getting my body scrubbed today.

Even though I hadn’t dried off, my skin felt completely dry—only my hair dripped water. I changed into my clothes, picked up my basket, and thought I’d stop by a pharmacy on the way home to buy iron supplements.

Still... how had that woman known the name Chun-baek, and why did she have my phone?

I pushed open the door with my shoulder and checked my recent call log. My foot stopped mid-step on the stairs. At the very top of the call history, the most recent contact was... Ryu Seon-jae.

I nearly dropped the basket.

“Wh-what... What the...”

I stared at the screen, mouth hanging open. That’s when I heard someone rush into the building. The fast footsteps came to a sudden stop. I looked up—Seon-jae stood at the foot of the stairs, wide-eyed.

Wait, what are you doing here?

He was panting. He definitely hadn’t come here to take a bath. I looked at him in shock, then back down at my phone. The call with his name was timestamped thirty minutes earlier.

“Chun-baek haksaeng! Someone’s coming, no need to call an ambulance.”

I remembered what the woman holding my phone had said. The little phone icon next to his name meant I had called him—or rather, she had.

Seon-jae leaned against the wall, rubbing his forehead with an awkward expression. I walked down the stairs and stopped in front of him.

“I’m sorry. Did you come because of that call?”

He brushed his hair back, lifted his head, and met my eyes. His cheeks were slightly flushed—maybe from the cold, or maybe from running.

“I’m sorry. I was so out of it I didn’t even ask who I called.”

His eyes scanned my face.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“I said, are you okay?”

I nodded.

Seon-jae suddenly placed his hand on my forehead. My heart lurched, and I held my breath. My eyes widened—I could only stare at the logo on his hoodie. I couldn’t lift my gaze any higher.

His cool hand pressed against my forehead.

“They said you collapsed because of the heat.”

“Uh... what?”

Still staring at the logo, I slowly lifted my gaze. Seon-jae was looking straight at me, his hand still on my forehead. The hallway was quiet—no one coming or going.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“Uh... No. I was just dizzy for a second. I’m okay now.”

Seon-jae lowered his hand.

“Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”

“Huh?”

I blurted it out too loudly. Seon-jae turned, looked back at me, his expression questioning.

“You collapsed. That’s why I came.”

“Ah, well...”

“You didn’t make the call, but it was about you. So don’t tell me you’ll go home alone.”

I closed my mouth at his firm tone. Fidgeting with the basket handle, I finally set it down and unwrapped the scarf around my neck. I offered it to him. He looked up, confused.

“It might be a quiet neighborhood, but what if someone recognizes you?”

Seon-jae gave me a look that said, I’m not that famous. I waved the scarf. If you don’t take this, I’m not moving.

With a resigned sigh, he accepted it and wrapped it around his neck.

“Hey, not like that.”

I reached out and adjusted it to cover his chin—then, thinking it wasn’t enough, wrapped it over his head too. Only his eyes were visible now. He gave me a look like, Seriously?

“You want me to walk around like this? This stands out even more.”

“No. If you’re going to walk me home, you have to go like this.”

Seon-jae muttered an Alright, fine and started walking. Unlike him striding boldly out the door, I hid behind it first, peeked out, and cautiously stepped outside.

I kept my distance and looked around nervously. Seon-jae, annoyed, yanked on the hood of my padded jacket, pulling me close. Our bodies bumped. I awkwardly glanced up at him. He sighed, pulled down the scarf covering his face, and looked down at me.

Startled, I yelped, “Wait, no!” and covered his face with my palm.

It was such a bizarre scene—a guy wrapped in a scarf standing in front of a girl holding a bath basket, one hand outstretched covering his face like she was about to spike a volleyball... or hypnotize him.

Neither of us said a word. Time felt frozen. I stood there awkwardly, wondering what to do with my hand, then slowly lowered it. Seon-jae’s face reappeared.

At that moment, a motorcycle roared past. I panicked and slapped my hand back over his face, eyes scanning the surroundings. Seon-jae, watching me silently, let out a short laugh.

“I’m not that famous.”

“What are you talking about? You’re super famous.”

“That’s just you thinking that.”

An awkward silence followed. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. Then he grabbed the hood of my jacket again and tugged me forward.

“Let’s go.”

Eyes wide, I let him lead me.

I glanced at Seon-jae’s face. With just his eyes showing, I couldn’t tell what expression he wore. I wondered what the woman had said on the phone to make him come.

Did she say I was dying? That I collapsed naked? That it looked like I wouldn’t make it?

How on earth had she ended up calling him, out of all my contacts? 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

“Was it weird getting that call?”

Seon-jae kept looking forward and shook his head. As we turned into an alley, our eyes met.

“I was worried.”

I opened my mouth to say we were turning here but said nothing, lips pressed tight, staring at him.

I remembered that day at Ryu Geun-deok Gamjatang, sitting side by side on a bench with Seon-jae, a jar of citron tea between us.

“That’s why I came.”

His eyes—deep and dark—looked at me the same way they had that day.