Chapter 2: The Ghost of 1999
The voices were the first thing he noticed. He recognized one of them,not because he knew the woman, but because they had met briefly in the midst of his earlier breakdown.
His heart sank. He was still here. The nightmare hadn't ended.
As his hands fisted against the sheets, he felt a warm palm cover his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He drifted back into a restless sleep for a few more hours before finally opening his eyes to stay. This time, he wasn't dramatic. He remained silent, eyes tracking every detail of his surroundings like a caged animal.
"The doctor said you'll be discharged in two days," the lady said, placing a bag of food on the bedside counter. "But you'll need to come back for checkups. The MRI came out clean, so they're saying the amnesia is hopefully just temporary." She sighed, and Sunghoon caught the tremor of sadness in her voice.
Passing out seemed to be his new hobby. The mental gymnastics required to process this reality left his brain pulsing with a dull, constant headache.
Later, he retreated to the bathroom. Se-hee,he had learned her name from the nurses,was cautious about letting him go alone, but she'd eventually relented when he insisted on privacy.
He stared at his new body in the mirror. It was younger, leaner, but clearly strong. He traced a few faint scars on his torso, wondering what the original owner of this body had endured to earn them at such a young age.
Then, there was the hair. It was long, flowing past his shoulders. Back in his time, Sunghoon was a "buzzcut" guy,it was his signature look, sharp and masculine. He gathered the dark strands into a messy bun and studied his new face. The inflammation had subsided, leaving behind a sharp jawline and hauntingly deep eyes.
He hated the long hair. He'd only grown it out for specific period roles; otherwise, he kept it tight. The thought of his old life made him frown.
Where is my body? Does Lee Sunghoon even exist in this world?
He decided to use his "amnesia" as a shield. Se-hee seemed like a kind, loyal girl who genuinely cared for this 'Haru' person. The guilt of deceiving her twinged in his chest, but he needed answers.
A sharp knock rattled the door.
"Haru? Do you need help?" Se-hee's voice was rising toward panic.
Sunghoon realized he'd been staring at the wall for too long. He opened the door, forcing a small, practiced smile. Even now, her attire perplexed him. She was dressed entirely in shades of bubblegum pink, right down to her jewelry.
"All done," he said, reaching out to playfully ruffle her braided hair. She made a face of pure disgust and ducked away from his hand.
"You really do have amnesia," she muttered, staring at him. He let out a soft laugh and walked back to his bed.
She watched him settle in, her expression softening. Seeing him more lively seemed to put her at ease. They were alone now; the other patient had been discharged, leaving the ward in a rare state of quiet.
"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the opposite bed.
"Nothing. I just... I don't remember what happened. To me. Or to the world."
"You can ask me anything," she said with a wide, encouraging smile. "Don't strain yourself trying to force the memories back."
Sunghoon took a breath. "I keep thinking of a name. Lee Sunghoon. But I don't understand why."
"That's easy! We can just search for it," she said brightly.
"Will the nurses let us go to the library?" Sunghoon asked, looking toward the door. "I don't think they'll let us use their computers."
Se-hee's eyebrows shot up in confusion.
She slowly pulled a sleek, thin rectangle of glass and metal from her bag. "Why would we need a library?"
"To use the computer," he repeated, confused. Wasn't that obvious?
Se-hee suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. Sunghoon stared at her as if she'd lost her mind.
"You can just search on a phone!" she wheezed, trying to catch her breath. "I didn't think losing your memory would make you a comedian. You're usually so... stiff."
Sunghoon's eyes darted to the small device. He'd seen her talking into it, but he hadn't realized it was a gateway to information. He watched, puzzled, as her thumb danced across the glowing screen.
"The first thing that pops up is an actor," she said, scanning the text. "It says he died on New Year's Eve, 1999."
Sunghoon lunged forward, snatching the device from her hands. She gasped at his sudden intensity but moved closer to look with him.
His heart stopped.
"SUICIDE," the headline screamed in bold digital letters.
He didn't remember the details of that night, but the word felt like a physical blow. He remembered the fall, the cold, the betrayal,but he would never have chosen to end it.
He scrolled down, his thumb trembling. Each article was a fresh wound.
"Oh, that guy?" Se-hee muttered over his shoulder, her lip curling in a scowl. "I've heard of him. What a bastard, right?"
Sunghoon froze, the phone feeling like a hot coal in his hand. "What?"
"That guy was an absolute scumbag. On top of being a narcissistic pig, he was a pervert. They were about to expose him for all sorts of things before he took the easy way out."
Sunghoon felt the air leave his lungs. It felt as if an arrow had pierced his heart and was being twisted with agonizing slowness.
Pervert? Scumbag? He had spent his life building a reputation of excellence.
"Anyway, don't stress yourself with that useless fellow," Se-hee said, gently taking the phone back. "You probably just heard the name before that idiot hit you."
Sunghoon was dazed. He barely felt her hand move his own, guiding a bottle of fresh juice to his lips.
"Who hit me?" he whispered, the shock finally beginning to recede into a cold, hard anger.
"Jui," she said with a growl, taking a swig from her own bottle.
Sunghoon looked down at the juice label. It was a brand he didn't recognize. He had always been rigid about his diet, terrified of how he'd look on camera. But looking at his new, bruised, reflection, he realized those rules didn't matter anymore.
He took a sip. It was sweet,almost too sweet. Like the life he had lost.