Every time I wake up and open my eyes, I can't help but think about it.
What if I open my eyes and see the ceiling of my room in the original world?
What if everything I've experienced so far was just a long dream?
So, when I wake up from the dream,
I would wake up to the alarm that is unbearably loud in a room that is a bit narrow and not very soundproof, but where I have a bed that makes me feel at ease when I lie down. Following my mother's repeated advice that one lives by eating, I would prepare and eat a simple breakfast.
Then, I would go to work, greet my boss who, as always, is barking orders at his subordinates in a loud voice, and try to hold back the urge to yell at my deputy, who works hard but lacks any sense, “How many times do I have to tell you not to do it that way?” until lunchtime.
I would eat lunch at my regular kimchi stew place, where the portions are huge but the price is only 5,000 won, and chat with my friends in our group chat about how we all want to quit our jobs. Just before lunchtime ends, I would go to the break room first and pour a cup of instant coffee for everyone, while jokingly telling the new colleague who says he could survive as a barista, “I'll think about it if you open a coffee shop.”
I would work frantically until it's time to leave, and then, when my boss catches me and drags me to a drinking session, I would listen to his complaints about how his second child, a primary school student, seems to be avoiding him, and try to cheer him up. When I get home, exhausted, I would wash up, read some web novels on my phone until my eyelids feel heavy, and then say, “Good night,” to the family photo on the drawer next to my bed, which shows my mother, father, and myself as a child, before falling asleep.
I wonder if such an ordinary day could come back.
I opened my eyes, hoping it would be so, but saw the ceiling I've grown accustomed to over the past two weeks.
It seemed that this long dream, which might not be a dream at all, had no intention of ending today.
I sighed deeply and got up.
It was a depressingly sunny Sunday.
The weather was so nice that just stepping outside made me feel better, but when you're depressed, even the sunniest weather can just be an excuse to feel more depressed.
I walked down the street, sighing deeply, and eventually sat on a bench in a park I've been visiting frequently lately, taking deep breaths.
Everyone around me, smiling as if to say it's a waste to be sad on such a nice day.
How many of these people will die?
Or, how many will survive?
If I didn't know anything, I could have smiled like them.
It was hard to look at people, so I lowered my head.
I was the only one who knew a little about the terrifying events that would unfold in this world.
But knowing the future only brought me pain.
If I were the protagonist of a novel, I would have struggled to change the future.
But I am not a protagonist.
I am someone who cannot act like one.
I had thought, "If only there was a status screen when I came here," but what I lacked was not some ability.
What I lacked was courage.
In a world where I could die at any moment, knowing what would happen in the future was my only lifeline to survive a bit longer.
But if I took action to change the future, that lifeline would change in an instant, and I wouldn't know where it would lead.
I was afraid of losing the advantage of knowing the future because of my actions.
I had no certainty that my efforts would lead to a better outcome.
What if my actions made things worse and caused even those who wouldn't die to perish?
I was afraid of being responsible for the consequences of my actions.
Moreover, even if I tried my hardest, the future might not change at all.
Like how I became the temporary class president without even raising my hand.
I was afraid that I would be discouraged after witnessing that I couldn't change anything, even if I took action.
So, as a coward, I chose the path that would allow me to survive the longest, even if it led to a cliff, rather than a path that might collapse.
“Eh? Could it be Evan?”
While I was deep in thought with my head bowed, a lazy voice from in front of me made me look up. A small girl with dark purple hair stood in front of me, her eyes half-closed.
I wondered if "Evan" was a shortened version of "Evanthe."
Could this girl have known Scarlett Evanthe all along?
“You feel familiar, so I came over... but you look a bit different. Are you in disguise?”
The girl, speaking slowly and incomprehensibly, suddenly started clapping slowly in front of me.
After clapping for a while, she tilted her head and said,
“Guess not... If it were Evan, she would have tried to kill me as soon as she saw me... Well, bye, Evan-like.”
The girl, who suddenly waved goodbye, turned around and walked away after saying what she wanted to say.
From her words, it seemed she didn't know me and had just mistaken me for someone else.
Maybe our names were coincidentally similar.
Leaning back against the bench and looking at the sky, I realized the sun was starting to set because I had spent so much time thinking.
I should head back.
I patted my bottom, got up, and went home.
After washing up and having dinner, I went to bed a bit early to wake up early the next morning.
*
[The world was hateful.]
[So I decided to burn it all.]
*
[Beep beep beep-]
I woke up from my sleep, turning off the alarm on my phone.
It wasn't a hallucination; it was the alarm I set to wake up early.
Just not waking up to Good Morning music made me feel quite good.
Every time I washed, I found it a bit annoying to unwrap and rewrap the bandage on my left hand.
I thought about just taking it off since it seemed to be healed, but decided to rewrap it, thinking it would be better to get permission from the nurse's office first.
I woke up early today to make macarons for Sylvia.
Macarons get soggy if left for too long, so it's best to make and give them on the same day.
While making the meringue for the macarons by gradually adding sugar to the egg whites and whipping them, I was grateful for my enhanced physical abilities, which made the task much easier.
If I can't afford the machine, I can just use my body!
Anyway, the macarons I made with great effort turned out not too bad, though their shapes were a bit off.
They were much smaller than the 3,000 gold special macarons sold at the school canteen.
But the fact that I made them myself was what mattered.
I carefully packaged the macarons in paper foil and put them in my bag.
For breakfast, I stir-fried the leftover egg yolks from making the meringue with Chinese chives and cooked them over-easy in the frying pan with some leftover oil, then placed them on top of the stir-fried chives and burst them to eat together.
Being able to get some protein for breakfast was such a bliss...
After having a hearty breakfast, I set off for school.
The wind was particularly strong today.
If I were a guy, I wouldn't have cared, but my skirt was flapping wildly, so I had to keep pressing it down, which was annoying.
A young boy was running excitedly with a windblown hat on his head.
When I was young, I could play with something like that all day.
As I smiled, feeling a bit of my childhood, a metallic clunking sound came from somewhere.
Above the boy running behind me,
an old sign that was swaying in the wind fell.
There was a loud noise.
When I came to my senses, I had already flown through the air and used my left arm to knock the falling sign away.
Fortunately, the boy seemed fine except for his wide, frightened eyes.
As I released him from my right arm and asked, “Are you okay?” he nodded and stared at my arm.
I didn't feel any pain, but the bandage on my left hand was bleeding.
I remembered what the nurse had said about not overexerting myself, as it could reopen the wound.
Am I going to get in trouble...
I smiled reassuringly at the boy, who was looking at me worriedly.
“Don't worry. This doesn't hurt at all.”
Hearing this, the boy started to sniffle for some reason.
He grabbed my sleeve and mumbled in a small voice,
“...Sister, it looks like you're pretending not to be in pain...”
I smiled bitterly at his words.
This is why perceptive kids...
I thought I had hidden it well, but kids have a subtle sharpness.
When I didn't say anything, the boy said, “Wait a moment,” and fished something out of his pocket.
He grabbed the sleeve of my left arm, brought my left hand in front of him, and seemed to be doing something with his tiny hands.
When he let go, I looked at my left hand.
On top of the bandage that was bleeding, there was a small band-aid with a bear drawing.
...Damn, I feel like crying.
“The mom always gives me these to put on when I fall. She says it stops hurting when you put it on...”
The boy looked up at me with a worried face.
I took a deep breath, smiled, and patted his head.
“Thanks to you, it doesn't hurt at all now. Thank you.”
The boy smiled in relief at my words, and I waved goodbye to him as I walked towards school.
I heard him shout, “Take care, sister!!!” from behind, but I didn't turn around.
If I did, I might not be able to control my expression this time.
I saw a trash bin near the school entrance.
I took off the band-aid the boy had put on my bandage.
After holding it for a while, I couldn't bring myself to throw it away and put it in my pocket.
Author's Note
Fan art by BlueRabbit and YanggangKing has been posted on the fan art board!
They are really amazing, so be sure to check them out!