Let's Be Friends Starting Today

There was a famous comic once.

I Opened My Eyes and I'd Become a Kid.

It was fun.

Really, really fun.

"Haah… Guess I should start packing a pocket watch and doing detective work too."

But now that it was happening to me, it wasn't fun at all.

Had some black-suited organization marked me without my knowing? Comics really were best enjoyed as comics. That childish thought barely had time to settle before—

"What the hell? Why does the house look like this?"

I'd been too stunned by the mirror—still half-asleep—to process anything properly. Only belatedly did I realize the layout of the place was nothing like the one I'd fallen asleep in.

Sure, it was my first morning after moving in. But forgetting the floor plan of your own house? Come on.

I stood there staring blankly at the unfamiliar corners, entertaining useless thoughts, until something else hit me.

"Ah, right—I should call the office first."

And what exactly was I supposed to say?

I woke up in bed and I'd turned into a little kid! Hehe!

Would anyone believe that?

None of my acquaintances happened to be Nobel-caliber scientists, so I figured I'd at least call the company I was supposed to start at today. Except—

"What? The phone too…?"

I'd been too groggy shutting off the alarm to notice, but this was definitely not my phone. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Brand-new model. One I'd never seen in my life.

"Ah… my head is spinning."

A house I'd never seen. A phone I'd never seen. A body that had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gotten younger.

That last one… was that actually a plus?

Either way, every single detail felt unreal from top to bottom. The most rational conclusion was kidnapping. Once my thoughts landed there, I started fiddling with the unfamiliar phone.

Contrary to my worries about a lock screen, there was barely any security at all. I dialed 112 immediately.

"…"

"Ah—sorry. Wrong number."

I hung up the second I confirmed the call actually connected.

"So… not a kidnapping?"

No kidnapper leaves a working phone sitting next to their victim. Calling the cops outright was still an option, but dragging them into a situation I didn't even understand myself would only make the chaos worse. I decided to hold off for now.

Still, knowing the phone worked was a genuine relief. It meant I could call for help if things went south.

I was just about to catch my breath when—

"Ah, right. The company."

Remembering my original reason for hunting down a phone, I dialed the office number on this unfamiliar device.

Haah… damn. I'll be the first person in history to call in unable to make it on day one.

But those worries turned out to be pointless.

The call wouldn't connect.

Huh?

I double-checked the number and tried again.

What?

Wondering if the phone itself was broken, I tried a different number just to check.

Ring…

It started ringing. So the phone worked fine.

"Dong-wook. It's Chan."

"I said it's Chan."

Click.

The call ended.

Normally I would've called right back and told him to cut the crap—but something was off. That wasn't my friend's voice. It was a complete stranger's.

The sense that something had gone terribly wrong hit me hard, and my heart started hammering. I woke the darkened screen, opened a browser, and—

"Haah… you've gotta be fucking kidding me."

One look at the news articles and I couldn't help swearing out loud.

After digging through the internet, I started piecing together exactly what kind of situation I was in.

The short version: I had been dropped into a novel my friend wrote.

A world where Gates opened and monsters poured out of them. Where mysterious towers appeared and people called them dungeons. A modern fantasy novel world.

"Urgh…"

I groaned and hammered away at the keyboard. A search of my personal details turned up the following:

Park Yeon-chan. Twelve years old (ten by international age). Both parents currently incarcerated. No guardian. Fairly loaded.

The silver lining—if you could call it that—was that I knew a little about this character already. He didn't show up much in the novel, but he'd appeared a few times as a helper to the protagonist. Personally, he and I had a lot in common.

Well, of course we did. This character's model had been me.

My friend had said he based the guy on me, so not just the background but the looks were a match too. Looking at him felt like looking at my younger self. No—at this point, saying we were identical was probably more accurate.

So you dragged me here, huh.

I looked up at the empty air and gave a bitter smile. Was it because I'd gotten mad seeing that USB I'd forgotten about? Or because I'd been trying to bury you for good?

"What's the point of asking."

Talking to someone who wasn't there wouldn't get me an answer. Maybe none of it was the reason. Maybe all of it was. And maybe none of this was even your will.

"Well then. Same as always."

Yeah. Same as I'd always done.

"I do whatever the hell I want."

I declared my ambitions to someone who no longer existed.

After tearing through every information source the internet had to offer, I turned up a few critical facts.

First: the current timeline was before the original story even began.

Second: the protagonist of this work lived right next door.

How did I know? Well—I already had a decent handle on the protagonist's personal info, so I just… casually peeked at a personal data site. In bad terms, hacking. In good terms… what was the nice word for it again?

Anyway.

"Hmm…"

My thoughts grew heavy on their own. The character I'd possessed barely appeared in the story, and the real plot didn't kick off for several more years, so information on this time period was painfully scarce.

Ordinarily, building a friendship with the protagonist would be the smart play. But once the story's actual starting point arrived a few years down the line, even that would become meaningless.

In short—

"There's nothing to dooo…"

I muttered around a mouthful of potato chips I'd scavenged from the cupboard.

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang.

"Is anyone home~?"

"Nope. Nobody here."

I answered too quietly to be heard, too lazy to get up—except—

"Huh? They said nobody's home?"

"You idiot! How would they answer if nobody's home?"

"Oh. Yeah, you're right."

I'd spoken softly, but apparently they'd heard me. That was a little embarrassing.

Judging by the voices, a couple of little kids had shown up.

Ding-dong.

As much as I didn't feel like dealing with it, I wasn't so rotten that I'd slam the door on people who'd already heard me answer. I trudged toward the entrance.

"Coming~"

I turned the handle and opened the door.

Two girls who looked like lower-grade elementary schoolers stood there. Honey-brown hair, matching honey-brown eyes. Same hair color, similar faces—twins or sisters. The slight difference in height and maturity pointed toward the latter.

Looking at those innocent little faces, I couldn't help the dad-smile that crept onto mine.

"Well now, little ladies—what can I do for you?"

If I'd had a family of my own, I might've had nieces about this age by now. That thought was still floating through my head when I asked—and the older-looking one twisted her whole face at me while the younger one tilted her head.

"Hm?"

I couldn't figure out why they were reacting like that.

"Hey. You're the same age as me. What's with the creepy 'little ladies' crap. Bleh."

"…"

Shit. Right. I was twelve.

Wait—hold on. Did I just call a kid my own age "little lady"?

A delayed wave of pure mortification crashed over me. I was still reeling from the secondhand embarrassment when—

"Here. Mom said to give you these."

"Hey. Why are you using formal speech? I told you he's our age."

The younger-looking one held out a stack of side-dish containers piled one on top of another.

"Huh? For me?"

"Yes! She said eating nothing but delivery is bad for you."

She kept addressing me politely, stubbornly ignoring her sister's scolding from the side.

"I'm fine, though…"

"Just take them. You live alone and order delivery all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the time anyway."

She wasn't wrong. I'd dug through the phone history—VVIP status on every delivery app. Officially the records said a guardian lived with him, but in reality he was on his own. To any nearby adult, he must have looked blatantly neglected. Someone had decided to look out for him.

"Thanks. I'll eat well. Tell your mom I said thank you too."

"Yes!"

I took the containers and started to head back inside—except the younger-looking one made no move to leave. She was staring straight through me.

"Um… is there something else?"

"He's different from last time? Unni, he seems nice today."

"…"

Whispering didn't help when you were standing right in front of someone. I could hear every word.

What the hell? How much of a little shit had this kid been that a child would say something like that?

The older-looking one's explanation cleared that up fast.

"You. Last time our mom tried to talk to you, you blew her off like a total jerk and walked right past."

"…"

What a disrespectful little bastard. Being a bit smart didn't give you the right to ignore adults. If that had been me as a kid, I never would have—

Hmm… actually, I had some memories of being a pretty big brat myself…

"Ah, I was probably wearing earpho—"

"There was nothing in your ears."

"I must've been lost in though—"

"You made eye contact and everything."

"Truth is I have pretty severe hearing lo—"

"You're hearing us just fine right now. And it was inside an elevator."

"…"

I'm sorry. I was garbage.

"Could you tell her thank you, and also… that I'm sorry about last time…?"

"Sure."

"Yes!"

Sorry, kids. You should be filling your heads with nothing but good things at your age.

I turned to go back inside again when—

"Hey."

The older-looking one stopped me.

"You're Park Yeon-chan, right?"

"Yeah. That's me."

"Do you know my name?"

"Your name is Ara, or something?"

"No, you dummy. I'm asking if you know my name."

In all my years of living, I'd never been called a dummy by a kid who hadn't even lived half as long as I had.

"I don't."

"I'm Lee Yeon-hui. You're in my class. The teacher says you need to start showing up to school."

Huh?

Ah. Come to think of it—I was a school-lunch kid now.

The thought of having to go back to elementary school made my head spin.

"P-please tell them I'll pay a visit in the near future."

"Why do you keep asking me to pass messages? Say it yourself. And what are you, a guest? It's not a visit—it's going to school."

How old was this kid and why was she this sharp with her words…

Same age as me meant twelve. Fifth grade, maybe.

Her name was Lee Yeon…

Wait.

"…What did you just say?"

"I said tell them yourself."

"Before that."

"Do you know my name."

"In between those."

"I'm Lee Yeon—"

"Lee Yeon-huiiiii?!"

Hold on. So you're—

The protagonist?

Only after putting on a full one-man circus—drums, janggu, castanets and all—in front of kids who hadn't lived half as long as I had, did I finally manage to send them home.

Back inside, I replayed everything that had happened outside the door and unleashed a three-hit combo of punches into my pillow.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

You idiot! You moron! You sucker!

And also… whatever, just—idiot! Moron!

Every insult in the book still wasn't enough. I almost wished someone would just curse me out properly and get it over with.

She had every single trait of the protagonist exactly as described in the novel, and I still didn't recognize her until ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she said her name. I'd even known she lived next door. I'd always prided myself on being pretty sharp—that confidence had just been ripped out by the roots.

After a brief session of penance on the bed, once I'd washed away my sins, one particular incident from the original story surfaced in my mind.

The protagonist Lee Yeon-hui's younger sister.

Lee Yeon-ah.

She had been mentioned in the work too, however briefly.

Lee Yeon-hui's younger sister, Lee Yeon-ah, was found as a cold corpse—without ever getting to wear a middle school uniform.

That event left a deep trauma even on the young Lee Yeon-hui, and it resurfaced in the later parts of the story as a psychological trigger that kept crushing down on her.

And of course it would. Lee Yeon-hui's most special ability—and her curse—was regression. The point she regressed to every single time was her sister's funeral.

In other words, every loop forced her to taste the death of a sister she could never save.

"I'd stop it if I could."

It was a memory that weighed on the protagonist all the way through the endgame. If it could be prevented, it was worth any means necessary.

The problem was that I knew almost nothing about the incident itself. Since the regression point came after the sister was already dead, details like the exact date and time of the event were never described with any precision. All that existed was that she'd been abducted somewhere and later found dead.

In short: even knowing she was going to die, preparing for it was nearly impossible.

If only I had some age on me.

This world had fantasy elements baked in, which meant it also had special powers that didn't match the common sense of the world I'd come from.

Awakening.

An unknown force that surged up from within the human body alongside the sudden appearance of the Towers and the Gates. Called ki, origin, and any number of other names—but its official designation was mana.

People who bloomed that power were called the Awakened.

Sounded great on paper. Except—

"Urgh."

Mana Awakening varied by individual, but for the vast majority it happened around the start or end of secondary sexual development.

And me, right now?

What was there to say. I was still a little brat who hadn't even finished growing body hair.

I was in the middle of drowning in that thoroughly depressing reality when—

Ding-dong.

How long had the quiet even lasted? The doorbell was already back on overtime.

Had they come to drop off something else?

"Coming~"

Drawing on prior experience, I opened the door immediately—no pointless jokes this time.

"Hey. My mom says come eat with us."

"…"