The transition was not a fall.
It was a cut.
Clean.
Sudden.
One moment—
Rain. Mud. Blood.
The next—
Light.
White.
Harsh.
Rue Yim—no—
She blinked.
Her head throbbed.
A ceiling.
Flat.
Too flat.
Too smooth.
Her breath came out shallow.
"...ah…"
The sound was unfamiliar.
Her throat dry.
Her body—
Light.
Too light.
She sat up slowly.
The world tilted.
Not violently.
Just enough to make her grip the edge of the bed.
Bed.
The word came naturally.
Her chest tightened.
"I… know this."
But she didn't.
Not really.
The room was small.
Clean.
A desk.
A chair.
A rectangular object—
Her gaze locked onto it.
It vibrated.
Buzzing softly.
Her breath hitched.
She knew what it was.
But she didn't know why.
Her hand moved.
Picked it up.
The screen lit.
Words.
Names.
"Soyoon, you're late again."
Her chest tightened.
Soyoon.
Mun Soyoon.
The name settled.
Not fully.
But enough.
Her fingers trembled.
"I…"
Her reflection caught in the dark screen.
