I Want to Return to My Childhood Friend

My childhood friend took her own life.

I never imagined that the news I would hear about the friend I had been so close to as a child would turn out to be her suicide. Not once.

"Noah. Do you remember Yuri? The one you were close with when you were little?"

"Huh? It's been a while since I've heard that name. After I left for study abroad in America during middle school, we naturally lost touch. Did you manage to reach her, Mom?"

"....I did reach her. She committed suicide."

"...What?"

"See for yourself."

Mom held out her phone screen to me. A single short message floated there.

Just like that… my vision went white. The Yuri who used to hold my hand and play with me as a child was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gone, and I was learning about it through such dry, formal words.

"Mom. Do you know why Yuri committed suicide?"

"According to her mother, she suffered from dissociative identity disorder. She couldn't function normally in daily life, so she stayed shut inside the house. Eventually her depression grew severe and…"

She couldn't bring herself to say the final word. There was no need anyway. The outcome was already clear from the message.

"Noah, if you're okay with it, could you attend the funeral for me? As you know, I can't leave right now because I'm caring for your grandmother."

"…Yes. I'll go."

I got dressed and headed to the hospital's funeral hall in a daze, not even fully understanding my own emotions.

"When did Yuri start hurting like that?"

And why hadn't I noticed?

Seoul Harmony Hospital, 3rd floor, Room 11. The wake was quiet. Many people came to offer condolences, but their voices stayed low and their footsteps careful.

I made my way through them and gave a short bow to Yuri's mother, the chief mourner. Then my eyes fell on what stood before her—Yuri's portrait.

It was Yuri from elementary school. Short hair, a bright smiling face. The exact image I still carried in my memory.

Why use an elementary school photo…?

I had no experience with funerals, but weren't they supposed to use a recent picture?

Maybe they didn't have any.

After placing my flowers, I bowed once more to Yuri's mother. She gestured to me, signaling she wanted to talk.

Once we stepped outside, I greeted her again.

"Hello, Yuri's mom. My deepest condolences on your loss."

"It really is you, Noah. I'm sorry you had to see me again under these circumstances."

"Not at all. I know it's rude to ask, but… could you tell me what happened to Yuri?"

Yuri's mother closed her eyes for a moment. Then, as though turning the pages of an old book, she spoke slowly.

"After you left for study abroad, Noah, Yuri was bullied at middle school. The reason? Well… for fun, I suppose. Ha."

A short, bitter chuckle. That was enough. Middle school bullying rarely had some grand cause. They were just adolescents. One day they simply decided they didn't like her. That was all it took.

"The bullying was so severe she couldn't even attend school. And then my husband passed away in an accident."

…So that was why she stood as chief mourner alone. I didn't know what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to say. The only words that came out were:

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, Noah, you haven't done anything wrong. If anyone should apologize, it's me for delivering such news."

She took a chocolate bar from her pocket. It was the same brand she used to give us as snacks when we were children.

"The two of you sharing these always looked so sweet together."

"….We did, didn't we."

"Anyway, after that Yuri developed dissociative identity disorder. We took her to hospitals, but there was no improvement. Above all, her particular form of the disorder had no precedent."

"What kind of personalities were they?"

Yuri's mother pointed at the sky. It was overcast and gloomy, exactly like the current atmosphere.

"Her personality changes with the weather. Multiple times, in fact."

"When the sun shines brightly, she becomes a cheerful, sunny child. When it rains, she turns sharp and irritable. When it's cloudy, she grows anxious and falls into deep self-loathing. When it snows, her emotions seem frozen solid and she says nothing at all."

Having said that, Yuri's mother returned to the wake, thanking me once more for coming.

She also explained why the portrait was from elementary school.

"Once ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the disorder developed, Yuri became terrified of photos, even mirrors. She said she no longer knew who she was."

"…I see."

Unlike when I arrived, I walked all the way home. My steps felt heavy, as though thick fog had settled over my heart. And within that fog, one thought kept spinning.

If I hadn't gone to study abroad in America, would Yuri still be alive?

I knew it was nothing but speculation. Still, I couldn't let it go.

If I hadn't gone abroad to study.

If I had attended the same middle school as Yuri.

If I had returned to Korea even midway through.

"Would her future look different now?"

I stopped walking and looked up at the sky again. It remained choked with dark clouds. I reached a hand toward it and whispered.

"I want to go back to my middle school days."

Something spoke inside my head. Before I could even process it, a brilliant light poured down from the cloudy sky straight toward me.

The light was so intense I instinctively frowned and covered my face with both hands. When the flash finally faded and I slowly opened my eyes…

"Where…?"

A slightly small bed. A large poster with English phrases on the wall. And a voice echoing through that wall.

"Noah, it's time to go to bed~ Good night~"

Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.

The voice coming from beyond the door belonged to Mrs. Chris—the woman who had hosted me during my middle school study-abroad homestay in America.

More than that, the face reflected in the mirror—

"No way… Have I really gone back to my middle school self??"

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠frantically grabbed the cell phone lying on the bed. It was an older model, generations behind the one I'd been using. Above all, the year displayed on the screen told me this was real.

"I've truly returned to the past—to my third year of middle school."

My legs gave out. I sank to the floor and whispered.

"….Thank you. Thank you so much."

I didn't know if it was a god or a devil. Whatever its identity, it had given me the chance to begin a new world line with "what if."

All that remained was to turn that "what if" into reality.

"That girl… Yuri…"

In that sense, there was only one thing I needed to do right now.

"Please pick up. I hope you're awake."

On the opposite side of the earth, I dialed someone far away.

After a long flight, the Korean soil I stepped on again felt completely different. Having spent all my middle and high school years in America, I wasn't familiar with Korea at this point in time.

"It's fine. I remember the major events. And thankfully my parents listened to my stubborn insistence."

They had looked shocked when I said I wanted to return to Korea. Through a video call they asked in earnest—adjustment problems? Studies too difficult? Or had something bad happened at school?

But I didn't look away. I answered with the same seriousness.

"I have to go back. I won't let it interfere with my studies."

"I'm not against you coming to Korea because of studies. Was living abroad that difficult for you, Noah?"

After choosing my words carefully, I quietly shook my head.

"…No. I just don't want to miss this second chance. This time, I don't want any regrets."

My parents remained silent for a long moment. Then, with a short sigh, they offered warm smiles.

"All right. It's your choice. We'll trust you."

So, in just one week, I hurriedly wrapped up my life in America and boarded a plane back to Korea.

"Son! Over here, over here! Welcome back to Korea~"

"Mom! You look even younger seeing you like this."

From the perspective of a twenty-three-year-old who had regressed to sixteen, it was the truth. Seeing my mother seven years younger felt strangely moving.

"Hehe, you really have a way with words. Oh, Dad will join us for dinner tonight."

"Okay. And I'm sorry for coming back so suddenly like this."

Mom simply reached out and gently patted my head. It was the exact same warm touch she had given me at twenty-three.

"You said you didn't want regrets, right? Then there's no need to apologize already. It's your choice and your responsibility in the end. Remember what Mom always told you?"

"Of course. I won't do anything I'll regret."

"Living abroad for two years really turned you into an adult. Let's go."

As we walked together, I carefully spoke up.

"Mom, can I ask you one favor?"

"What is it, son?"

"I'd like the phone number for my childhood friend Yuri's parents."

Let's organize the situation. The point I've regressed to is the third year of middle school.

Which means there's a high probability Yuri is already suffering from dissociative identity disorder.

She said the bullying started after entering middle school. This timing meant the option to "prevent the bullying" was already gone.

Three years… It's heartbreaking, but it's more than enough time for her condition to worsen drastically.

In the end, I had arrived at a high-difficulty moment. A time that would require extreme care to reach a Yuri who had already closed her heart.

But it didn't matter. I was already grateful simply to have been given the chance to regress.

I stopped in front of the house where she lived. Even though it was a bright, clear afternoon on a precious weekend, a somehow gloomy atmosphere lingered.

I wondered what expression my childhood friend beyond this door would be wearing. The thought made me hesitate for a moment, but I eventually reached for the doorbell.

"Yuri. I'm coming to see you now."