Meeting (1)
I opened my eyes to a familiar ceiling. My body felt light, free of any pain, and my vision was perfectly clear. I blinked a few times, rolled my eyes to survey the room, then sat up and grabbed the small calendar on the table.
"20XX, November... Ten years ago? And this place..."
The Hero AssociationTraining Ground Rest Room. The spot where my past self had holed up for years. I'd probably spent half my twenties here.
Why was I here...? Oh.
Was this a life-flashing-before-my-eyes thing? But weren't those supposed to show your whole life when you died? Why just fragments?
Something was off—more than one thing. What stood out most was the vivid sensation of being alive. It felt just like...
I've regressed to the past.
"No way that's—"
Bang!
"Seojin hyung! You here again? What are you, a ghost? Every time I come looking, you're in the training grounds."
I shook my head, denying it to myself, when someone flung the door open. Startled, I turned—and stared blankly at the all-too-familiar face.
"...Han... Sujung?"
"Huh? Why're you staring like that, hyung? Wait... why do you look so weird?!"
"Han Sujung. Is that really you?!"
I'd been gaping, but now I stood, stumbling toward her. Sujung recoiled in horror. Ignoring her, I reached out and touched her face, feeling its lifelike texture—too real to be a dream.
"Hey, seriously!! What the hell?!"
"Ow!!!"
She snapped, kicking my shin hard. Her sneakers already had protruding toes from training, and the pain hit sharp and real.
Yep. Reality. No dream could hurt this much...
"You're crazy. No, hyung—did you go nuts mid-training? Swinging that sword all day fry your brain or what?"
"Ow ow... Sorry. I had a weird dream."
"Ugh, hyung. Even so, sneaking up like that's not cool."
"Sorry, sorry."
Rubbing my shin and hopping around like a fool, I sank onto the sofa. Unbelievable. Not dead—I'd gone back in time. Regression, huh?
I pinched my cheek, then gazed at the elegant redhead before me. Han Sujung—my junior in the past. She'd been kind to the weirdo obsessed with sword training when others mocked me... but she died in the war. Followed a shitty order without complaint, went on the mission. Enraged, I'd hacked off limbs and heads of every superior involved.
"Anyway, go home already. What kinda person doesn't?"
"Home?"
"Yeah! Home! Even if it's a rundown dump, go rest there. What good's training with this fake 'rest'?"
"Ah... haha... right?"
"Yes! So go already, Lee Seojin! And shave that scruffy beard!! I know Team Leader begged me to drag you home?!"
"S-sorry."
Her fiery glare was unchanged—the same junior I knew. She'd always check on me during training, scold me like this if I overworked. I'd ignored her, yelled at her to leave sometimes. Looking back... my past self was pathetic and stupid.
"Fine. Guess you're right—time to head home."
"Good, go ho—wait, what? You're actually going?"
"Didn't you just tell me to?"
"Yeah, but you always ignored me. Now you're listening? Weird."
"Weird...?"
"Super weird."
"Hm. Well, everyone needs a break sometimes, right?"
The words felt awkward coming from me now, pricking my conscience. But I couldn't just blurt out I regressed ten years. She'd probably call me nuts and drag me to a hospital.
I grabbed my jacket from nearby, patted her shoulder as I passed. "See ya. Get back to work."
"Hmmm... Weird, but good weird, so I'll let it slide."
"Cool. Tell hyung—er, Team Leader—hi."
"Don't make me do it. Go see him yourself. You're gonna work yourself to death, and you still squeezed in time to ask me?"
"What? He still swamped?"
"Yeah... 'still'?"
"Huh? Oh, slip of the tongue."
"Hmmm..."
Get it together, Seojin. Not a kid—why the slip-ups?
Regression still felt surreal. Gotta adapt fast, or she'll think I'm nuts.
Sujung eyed me suspiciously but let it go, stepping aside. "Whatever. Go home."
"You not leaving?"
"I don't just come here for you, y'know."
"Right. Yeah."
This was the Training Ground Rest Room—open to all Hero Association supers. In the thrill of reunion, I'd forgotten: Sujung was a hero. Strong one, too—until the war took her pointlessly.
Not this time. Never letting her go like that.
"Train hard, then. I'm out."
"Yeah. Take care, hyung."
Leaving her stretching to change, I exited the training grounds.
※
Snow fell outside. November snow felt odd, but maybe compared to the war-torn winters in my memory.
On the way home, trudging through flurries, I couldn't look away from the sky.
"My memories... snowy winters amid ruined cities from the war."
Streets bustled with laughing, happy people. Tall buildings stood intact, lights vibrant. But war erased it all—faces twisted in despair, rushing to flee; structures crumbled into empty desolation.
Heroes fought villains while protecting... but protection was a huge liability in total war.
"We bled defending them, and they spat blame and rage when we lost..."
Pisses me off more the more I think.
Quit heroes, become a villain? Even regressed, war's coming—world-shaking scale. No idea how to stop it; doubt I could anyway. Might as well live free as a villain.
But that was just talk—deep down, no.
"...This time, no living like my past life."
Back then, I chased strength obsessively, scrambling to match top heroes. What'd it get me? Nothing. Strong, but alone. Or rather, I stupidly let everyone go.
One lonely life was enough. No more obsession—meet people, live happy.
War would shatter it... but eight years till it starts.
"...The Hero."
She popped into mind. Thought she fought alone, but she'd stayed by me. What happened after? Demon King dead, heroes won—barely. Did she find happiness? Hope so.
Imagining a future I'd never see again, I reached home.
"Still the same old dump."
Seoul Outskirts Apartment—crappy place. "Seoul" prices meant a tiny two-room crammed full; fourteen units per floor, walls thin. Noisy neighbors were hell.
But back then, I never came home—lived in the rest room. Pointless.
"Feels foreign after so long."
Remembering the mess inside, I chuckled sheepishly, gripped the creaky knob—long untouched.
Dusty as hell. Cleaning first.
"Cough cough! Ugh, musty."
Stale air hit me—unvented for ages. Not too dusty, but still needed cleaning.
"Anyway... body aches like hell."
Training nonstop for strength? Ignored muscle pain before, but now it screamed. Was I numb to pain, or just dulled senses? Past me survived this how?
Gotta manage better now...
"Air it out... better."
Fresh air rushed in—chilly from snow, but worlds better than the funk.
Scanning the room, I checked the empty fridge.
"Figures... never came home, no food."
Mart? Sunday—my biweekly off. Convenience store it was.
Jacketing up, I dashed out into worsening snow. Quick trip to the store next door.
But en route, something odd caught my eye.
"...What the...?"
Two strikingly beautiful girls, sisters maybe, huddled in a box against the cold—skinny, shivering. Like stray kittens, staring blankly. The older one wore a paper tag around her neck.
[Please Pick Us Up]
Stunned, I froze mid-stride. She noticed, slowly looked up. Our eyes met; she smiled pitifully, sadly.
"...Mister. Could you pick us up?"