My Wife from the Future
Has anyone ever seen space tear open? Definitely not. I, an ordinary college student, never even dreamed I'd go through something like this.
"What the hell is going on?"
The familiar sight of my room warped as I went about my daily routine, followed by the sharp crack of shattering glass. Kim Il-woo stayed frozen in place, utterly motionless, until a woman finally emerged from the fractured void in the air.
"Hey, Il-woo."
Her voice was clear and melodic, like jade beads rolling across a tray—familiar, somehow. "Who... are you?"
Kim Il-woo was stunned by the impossible phenomenon, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the elegant, innocent beauty standing before him.
"Should I say it's been a while? It's me. Your childhood friend, Choi Ara."
"...Ara?"
He eyed the woman claiming to be his childhood friend Choi Ara with deep suspicion. She really does look like her. If Choi Ara had an older or hidden sister, she couldn't have been more similar in vibe and looks. Long black hair cascading to her waist, a stunning face that turned heads wherever she went. Her pale pink lips, like cherry blossoms kissed by dew, amplified her purity, while the form-fitting futuristic suit revealed her dizzyingly perfect figure in full. Her full, teardrop-shaped breasts drew the gaze relentlessly, almost problematically so; her slim waist flowed into wide, flared hips that sparked an urge to grab them. Whether from the suit or her natural bounce, her shapely ass jutted out provocatively, begging the question of what kind of satisfying smack it would make if struck.
"Are you Ara's older sister or something?"
His childhood friend Choi Ara was already strikingly beautiful, but this woman exuded a far more ripened allure. Convinced she was pulling a prank—since she couldn't possibly be Ara herself—he wracked his brain for the best response he could muster.
"Is that what you say to a mysterious woman who just tore through space?"
"...Fair point."
Choi Ara chuckled at his ridiculous deduction, brushing her side-swept hair behind her ear with a soft, playful smile.
"Ah..."
Her smile was captivating, like a lily blooming—enough to bewitch any man. It was his childhood friend Choi Ara.
"Earrings?"
As Choi Ara naturally took a seat across from him, Kim Il-woo noticed something he'd missed before: diamond-shaped gold earrings hidden by her side-swept hair. His childhood friend Choi Ara matched her pure, refined looks with a somewhat conservative personality. It was surprising she'd wear something like that, and as he stared, she gave a shy, faint smile.
"It's your taste, isn't it?"
"Huh...?"
Choi Ara's cheeks flushed ever so slightly, as if truly embarrassed. Unlike the conservative Choi Ara, Kim Il-woo's sexual tastes ran a bit twisted. Having grown up together as childhood friends, he'd confessed his feelings to her early on, and she'd reciprocated—but it hadn't lasted. She craved innocent, quiet love; he was the embodiment of sticky, obsessive lust. An inevitable end.
"Why are you dressing to my tastes?"
"Dropping the formal speech already?"
"Ah... uh..."
Was it the shock, or the nostalgic aura radiating from her? Chatting with her felt so natural that he'd slipped into casual speech without thinking. Choi Ara giggled, waving it off as a joke before revealing the truth.
"Because in the future, I'm your wife."
"My wife?"
"Yeah. Your wife. We're married."
Choi Ara gazed at him with eyes brimming with affection, shy like a lovestruck girl. It was a gaze so warm and loving that anyone could see she adored him. It's making my heart race just watching. Kim Il-woo flushed; he'd never imagined receiving such a look from his childhood friend Choi Ara in his lifetime.
"Y-you're embarrassed?"
"Well... yeah. Never saw this coming."
Sensing the awkward, tingling air between them, Choi Ara fanned her flushed face with her hand. That's backfiring! Did she not realize how she looked? That suit clung to her curves so obscenely it was practically lewd—stripping might've been less erotic. As she waved her arm to fan herself, her ample breasts jiggled dramatically.
"Where are you looking?"
"Ah..."
Women had a sixth sense for spotting a man's stare at their chest, huh? Or maybe he'd been too obvious. Either way, a cold voice cut through.
"Sigh... My husband's still a total perv, I see."
"Ahem!"
Aware of how outrageously revealing and suggestive her outfit was, Choi Ara covered her chest and other key areas with her hands. That makes it even hotter. A pure beauty turning her head away in shame, hands shielding her breasts and crotch—irresistibly brain-melting for any man.
"But... you and me, really married? You've got a boyfriend right now..."
He wasn't doubting her story, but Choi Ara—the one at the same university—already had a boyfriend. They'd been together long enough that everyone thought they'd end up married; their bond was that solid.
"..."
Pointing it out made her visibly uncomfortable.
"We broke up."
Her tone was icy, chilling. Having known her for years, it shocked him all the more.
"I see..."
Kim Il-woo decided not to pry further—it wouldn't end well—and neatly shelved his curiosity.
"So? Honestly, I'm half out of my mind right now. Whatever you tell me, I'm ready to accept it."
His seemingly calm demeanor stemmed from a resigned this must be a dream mindset. This wasn't an era of casual space travel, and he wasn't a billionaire or tech genius—yet his future wife pops out of nowhere? Ninety-nine out of a hundred would call it a dream; the last one would head straight to the hospital.
"You think this is a dream."
Choi Ara nailed it, as if reading his mind.
"It's not. I can't stay in the past long either—gotta head back soon."
"Then why...?"
Even if she was the grown-up version of his childhood friend Choi Ara, and they were married in the future, there was no reason for her to seek him out. Her time here seemed severely limited—a golden opportunity squandered just to meet him? Why?
His confusion showed plainly on his face, and Choi Ara gave a wistful smile, like she might vanish any second.
"I have one favor to ask."
"A favor?"
"Yeah. The most important one to me."
Her seriousness carried an unshakeable conviction: it has to be you.
"Tell me."
Matching her gravity, Kim Il-woo straightened up. Sensing the shift, Choi Ara murmured a quick "thanks" and got to the point.
"In eight hours, I'll be raped."
"......What?"
Her face—so pained, so sorrowful—didn't scream lie.
"On a date with my boyfriend Park Jun-hyun, in some alley..."
Painfully terse, she laid it out: Heading out for a date with Park Jun-hyun in eight hours, ambushed from behind in a dark alley. Never saw the rapist's face; he was never caught.
"That's awful."
"Yeah."
He offered what comfort he could to the teary-eyed Choi Ara.
"But why come to me instead of your boyfriend Park Jun-hyun?"
Because he was her future husband? Or had things soured with Park Jun-hyun for some reason?
"Because after it happens, you're the only one who stays by my side."
"..."
No need to spell out how things fell apart with Park Jun-hyun; he could guess. She wasn't bubbly, but calm, diligent, responsible—plenty of acquaintances admired her. For everyone to abandon her? Heartbreaking.
"Please, Il-woo. Won't you save my past self?"
"No issue there, but..."
Another question bubbled up in Kim Il-woo's mind.
"Can you just change the past like that?"
"..."
Choi Ara fell silent, offering no answer.
"I see..."
That silence was the reply. What she was doing was taboo. He didn't know how deeply he and Choi Ara loved each other in the future. But that love wasn't enough to erase her lifelong trauma—hence wasting this precious chance to find him.
"I'll give it a shot."
"Thank you, Il-woo. You're the only one for me."
Truly apologetic, Choi Ara threw herself into his arms. A sweet peach scent wafted sweetly. Through the smooth suit, the softness and firmness of his matured childhood friend's body pressed fully against him.
"Guess I'll head out."
"Already?"
"Yeah. Can't keep popping in like this. But here..."
She handed him a device like a smartphone.
"Can't do calls or live chat, but messages work."
"Got it. Say hi to future me...?"
Awkward at asking himself for well-wishes, Kim Il-woo trailed off. Choi Ara stifled a laugh and nodded.
"Really going now. Thanks, my love from the future."
With that, she kissed him—full of affection, like to a cherished lover.
"Mmph... mm..."
"Mmm, slurp..."
Unbelievable from the Choi Ara he knew: a sticky, sloppy kiss. Tongues intertwined, devouring warmth in a deep exchange. Clearly, his future self had remolded her pure innocence to his tastes. How long did they swap her ripened scent and sweet saliva?
"Haa... haa..."
"Huuuuh..."
They parted only when breathless. Saliva glistened around their lips; a thick strand of spit stretched sensually between mouths before snapping.
"Bye."
With that short farewell, Choi Ara vanished into the rift as she'd come.
"..."
Seated in his room, Kim Il-woo touched the lingering heat and stickiness on his lips once more.
"...It was real."
No signs of waking, even at dream-logic timing.
"Haa..."
He sorted his tangled thoughts. The task from his future wife. Shoving all the info into place, he stood—his face no longer the innocent boy's. Hardened, emotionless, like feelings had evaporated.
"Future me must've raped Choi Ara real good. Do it right, and no one catches you, huh?"
The words from Kim Il-woo's mouth stunned anyone who heard. Rather than saving his childhood friend—his future wife—from the rapist, he moved to rape her himself. Choi Ara had entrusted her past self to the one person she never should have.