The stranger leaned forward. "Thank you for tending to me, Cheol. My name is—"
His eyes widened as he tried to remember. "Ahh… it was… I don't remember."
"That's one strange, long name," Cheol said with a chuckle.
"Gaeson, now's not the time for jokes," Gao scolded. "Give him some water now that he's awake."
Gao closed his textbook and stepped toward the stranger. "We need to take you to a physician. You might've suffered a head injury, kid. Let's go."
"I am not a kid," the stranger shot back. "I am a…" He stopped, his brows knitting. "Shit, I can't even remember my age. Well, at least I'm not a kid. Remember that."
"Okay, mister," Cheol said dryly. "Now let's go to a physician."
A FEW MINUTES LATER -----
"Okay, so Cheol… First thing—what do you think this place is, hmm? Some kind of infirmary to you?"
A young girl stood in front of Cheol, arms crossed.
"Rumi… please," Cheol said, rubbing his forehead. "I know you're not exactly good at studies, but you can at least figure out his condition."
"First of all, I'm the ace of my class," Rumi shot back. "And second—I can't just bring this boy's memories back!"
The young boy sat quietly in the hall while Cheol and the girl spoke inside the room.
"Come on, you should at least try," Cheol urged. "You know how tight on money we students can be. I can't afford a physician."
Rumi hesitated, her fingers fidgeting. "If you say so… but—in return, you have to help me with Father's shop in the evening for a week. For free." Her face was blushing a bit.
Rumi quietly stepped into the hall, noticing the young boy's puzzled expression. She walked over and took a seat in the chair beside him.
In a sweet, gentle voice, she asked, "What's your name?"
The boy's reply came cold and flat. "I don't remember it, girl. And don't treat me like a child. As far as I can tell, you seem about my age."[1]
Rumi edged her chair back slightly. "Did you fall somewhere or hurt yourself, sir?"
The boy shook his head slowly. "I only remember a white flash… and then these two. Also… I remember some short stories."
Rumi tilted her head, curiosity in her eyes. "Stories like…?"
The boy's gaze drifted upward as he thought. "The Tortoise and the Hare… The Boy Who Cried Wolf… The Lion and the Mouse… The Fox and the Grapes… The Ant and the Grasshopper".
Rumi narrowed her eyes. "And how did you figure out you only remember these?"
"Well," the boy said, "I've been trying to recall things… But anything related to me just won't come up. Only these short stories."
"Let me examine your head," Rumi said, leaning forward. She gently ran her hands over his scalp, feeling for any injuries or swelling.
Without another word, she began sketching a complex geometric circle on a piece of paper, then placed it carefully on the boy's head.
What is she doing? Is she even real? the boy wondered.
"Don't worry," Rumi said with a small smile. "I might be a student, but I'm in my final years."
"But what is geometry going to do to my head?" he asked quickly.
"What are you talking about? It's a basic ki transfer circle. Wait… I see…"
Her voice trailed off as she placed the paper back onto his head. Slowly, her hand began to glow, and the boy felt something warm and soothing seep into his mind.
Rumi's expression shifted to one of puzzlement and surprise. She turned to Cheol.
"I think you need to show him to a physician at the church. It's strange—I thought his brain might've suffered damage in the areas where his memories were stored, leaving only the site of stories untouched. But… my prediction was wrong. His brain is completely fine—no, in fact, it's in peak condition. I tried to probe further, but some kind of rune was stopping me."
Cheol crossed his arms. "Well, what should we do now? If he can't remember his memories, where's he supposed to stay?"
Just then, Gao arrived. "Well, I expected this," he said. "So I reckon we should just leave him where he appeared from."
The boy quickly spoke up. "Wait! I'm thankful for your efforts, but… could you let me stay with you two? I really don't want to be left alone."
The evening sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the nearly empty road. The air was still, broken only by the faint sound of their footsteps.
The boy walked slightly behind Gao, his voice soft. "I… really don't mean to trouble you. I can do chores, help clean, anything you ask. I just… don't want to be left somewhere alone."
Gao kept his eyes forward. "You talk like that, but you don't even know who you are."
"I know," the boy admitted, lowering his head. "But I can learn… I can be useful."
"That's not the problem." Gao's tone was flat, almost cutting. "You appeared out of nowhere. That's enough reason to keep a distance."
The boy hesitated before speaking again. "Still… I'll prove I'm worth keeping around. Even if it takes time."
Gao glanced at him briefly, his expression unreadable. "We'll see. Don't expect me to trust you just because you talk nicely."
By the time they got near the city, the boy had somehow convinced both Gao and Cheol to let him stay. No big speeches, no drama—just him asking nicely over and over until they gave in.
The sun was already dipping low when they reached the place Gao and Cheol called home. It wasn't much—just a shady old apartment building crammed between two taller ones. The paint was peeling, the lights at the entrance flickered like they were dying, and the whole place gave off the vibe of "cheap, but it'll do."
They trudged up the stairs, which groaned with every step, and stopped at their floor. The hallway smelt like a mix of dust and old furniture, and somewhere far away, a TV was blaring some soap opera.
This was it—the grand tour of university life on a budget.
When the trio reached their familiar abode, it wasn't completely quiet, but quiet enough. As they entered—one after the other—they each freshened up.
Cheol then said, "Gao, I need to leave now. I have a deal with Rumi."
"To think you asked her out… Our Gaeson has grown up so much," Gao teased.
Cheol, wearing an irritated expression, shot back, "She's my friend, and she's a whole three years older than me. She probably doesn't even see me as a man. And unlike your single ass, I don't waste my time fantasising about meaningless relationships."
The boy chuckled at Cheol's reply, and Gao bit his lip. Without another word, Cheol left. Gao soon returned to his usual lazy expression.
The boy quietly stepped out onto the balcony. Above him, the stars shimmered faintly, and he wondered what lay ahead for his fate. His thoughts drifted to what he might have been like in his past life. The confusion in his mind—and the strangeness of the world he had fallen into—overwhelmed him.
Throughout the evening, he had seen people using strange objects, carrying floating items, and bearing peculiar tattoos etched across their bodies. When he asked the two students about them, they explained that the markings were circles of mages, used for quick combat, and the floating items were the result of levitation magic.
Conveniently, the term magic was also used for such normalized abilities, making it easier for someone like him to understand. Still, it felt as if someone had fabricated this entire world.
Under the weight of such thoughts, his mind began to reel again. Something inside seemed to snap—an intense shock pulsed through his skull. Stumbling back inside, he reached the mattress and suddenly collapsed.
[1] I cant come up with better words to say it but . i am trying to write it like a feeling where you change your tone with every person you meet with differeny age