The morning sun pierced through the haze of Noryangjin-dong, casting a golden glow over the high school courtyard as Jang Taesan shouldered his frayed backpack and stepped into the fray. The air buzzed with the usual chaos—students laughing, cramming for quizzes, or scrolling through early-model smartphones. It was his seventh day back in 2008, and each moment felt like a tightrope walk between his past failures and the future he was clawing to build. The ache in his muscles from Choi's Taekwondo & Hapkido Academy was a constant companion, a badge of his growing strength, but the memory of Min-soo Kang's alley ambush lingered like a bruise. Taesan's defiance had bought him a moment's victory, but he knew the bully wasn't done—not by a long shot.
His mind churned with plans: dominate the CSAT, conquer the stock market, unravel the mystery of his return. But the spark of his hapkido training last night—the wrist lock, the flicker of control—had ignited something new. He wasn't just fighting for survival anymore; he was fighting to become untouchable. Yet, as he crossed the courtyard, a familiar face pulled him from his thoughts.
Han Do-jin leaned against a vending machine, his tie predictably crooked, tossing a soccer ball between his hands. His grin flashed as he spotted Taesan. "Yo, Taesan! You look like you got hit by a truck. What's with the zombie vibes?"
Taesan forced a smirk, the sight of his old friend—a ghost from a future tragedy—tugging at his heart. "Long night," he said, keeping it vague. He couldn't tell Do-jin about the alley fight, the dojang, or the weight of his second chance. Not yet.
"Long night, huh?" Do-jin raised an eyebrow, tossing the ball higher. "You're turning into a mystery, man. First you're a math genius, now you're all brooding and intense. Spill it—what's going on with you?"
Taesan shrugged, deflecting with a half-laugh. "Just trying to keep up with you, slacker." Do-jin's carefree laugh hit him like a pang, a reminder of the car crash that would claim his friend in the original timeline. I'll change that, Taesan vowed silently, his resolve hardening.
Before Do-jin could press further, the bell rang, and they headed to class. In math, Taesan breezed through a calculus problem set, his answers flowing from years of grinding through textbooks in his past life. Mr. Lim's nod of approval was grudging but undeniable, and whispers rippled through the room. Sophie Leclerc, seated near the window, shot him another sharp glance, her pencil pausing mid-note. Her curiosity was becoming a pattern, and Taesan wasn't sure if it was an asset or a liability.
At lunch, the cafeteria hummed with its usual chaos—trays clattering, voices overlapping, the scent of kimchi and grilled fish thick in the air. Taesan sat alone, sketching out a study schedule in his notebook, when a tray slid onto the table across from him. He looked up to see Sophie, her ponytail swinging, her expression a mix of curiosity and exasperation.
"You're making a habit of drawing attention," she said, her voice low but pointed. "Min-soo's been talking trash all morning. Says he's coming for you after school. Again."
Taesan's jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. "Let him. I'm not running."
Sophie's eyes narrowed, studying him like a puzzle she couldn't solve. "You're either brave or stupid, Jang. I'm not sure which yet." She leaned forward, her voice dropping. "What's your deal? You're not the same kid who was flunking quizzes last month. People are noticing, and not just Min-soo."
Taesan met her gaze, his pulse steady despite the scrutiny. "Maybe I just woke up," he said, the words carrying more truth than he could admit. "Thanks for the heads-up."
She leaned back, her lips twitching into a half-smile. "Don't thank me. I'm not your bodyguard. Just… don't get yourself killed." She stood, grabbing her tray, but paused before leaving. "And maybe explain yourself someday. I'm curious." With that, she walked off, leaving Taesan with a mix of gratitude and wariness. Sophie was sharp—too sharp—and her interest was a double-edged sword.
After school, Taesan headed to the dojang, his heart pounding with anticipation. The alley fight with Min-soo had shown him he could stand his ground, but it also exposed how much he still had to learn. The dojang was alive with the thwack of kicks and the sharp exhales of effort, the air thick with sweat and determination. Master Choi stood like a sentinel, his stern gaze sweeping the mat as he called out corrections.
"Jang! Balance!" Choi barked as Taesan fumbled a roundhouse kick, his legs still unsteady. "You're fighting gravity before you fight anyone else!"
Taesan gritted his teeth, sweat dripping into his eyes, and tried again. Each move was a battle against his weak body, but the memory of Min-soo's shock when he'd landed that jab fueled him. Across the mat, Noah Park struggled through a similar drill, his lanky frame wobbling but persistent. Taesan caught his eye, offering a quick nod, and Noah returned it, a shy grin breaking through his exhaustion.
Halfway through the session, Choi introduced a new technique—a taekwondo side kick, precise and powerful. He demonstrated, his leg snapping out like a whip, the pad's thud echoing through the dojang. "It's about timing," Choi said, his voice firm. "Hit when they're open, not when they're ready."
Taesan paired with Noah for practice, their kicks clumsy but earnest. "You're getting it," Taesan said, steadying Noah after a wobbly attempt. "Just keep your hips square."
Noah laughed, wiping his brow. "You sound like you've done this before. How're you picking it up so fast?"
Taesan shrugged, deflecting. "Just paying attention." He couldn't say it was the instincts of a man who'd lived through failure and come back to rewrite it. But Noah's effort, his quiet determination, sparked something in Taesan—a connection, a glimpse of the ally he might become.
As the session ended, Noah lingered, catching his breath. "You're not like most guys here," he said, his tone curious but cautious. "You're… driven. Like you've got something to prove."
Taesan grinned, slinging his towel over his shoulder. "Don't we all? You're here for a reason too, right?"
Noah hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Tired of being the kid everyone ignores. I want… more."
"You'll get it," Taesan said, his voice firm. "Stick with this, and you'll be more than they expect." The words were for Noah, but they echoed Taesan's own resolve—the promise to outgrow his past self, to become untouchable.
Choi's voice cut through. "Jang! Park! Save the bonding for after class!" They bowed, sharing a quick laugh, and headed out.
Walking home under Noryangjin's neon glow, the stars faint against the city's electric haze, Taesan felt the spark of connection growing—Sophie's curiosity, Noah's potential, Choi's gruff mentorship. Min-soo's threat loomed, but it was just one piece of the puzzle. The CSAT, the stock market, the mystery of his return—they were battles he'd face with everything he had. He clenched his fists, his lips curling into a determined grin.
I'm not just surviving. I'm building a legacy.