After returning home, the first thing Ryu Ji-ho did was transfer the notes he had written earlier into his diary. Each page began with the events of the day, but hidden between the lines of ordinary words, he slipped in a bit of knowledge about the future—a small secret only he knew. These notes were updated whenever new thoughts crossed his mind. He planned to revisit these entries from time to time, whenever he felt the need to recall hidden details. Yet, a nagging worry haunted him—if the diary were to get lost or be discovered by someone else, there was a chance they might understand its contents. To prevent that, Jiho began to devise a plan. He felt the need to disguise certain parts in a way that only he could comprehend. From now on, his diary would become his most prized possession—like a spellbook holding the secrets of the future.
❉ ❉ ❉
Ryu Ji-ho's life was no longer the same. Every morning, without fail, he woke up at precisely five o'clock. He didn't own any special workout gear, so he simply wore his old, worn-out Shinpo school gym uniform. He quietly slipped out of the house, making sure not to wake any of his family members with his soft footsteps. Once outside, Jiho began his new routine—climbing Subong Mountain.
"Hah... hah..." His breath came in heavy gasps as he pushed himself up the path, step after step.
By the time he reached the summit, his entire body was drenched in sweat, but a deep sense of satisfaction filled him.
"Huuufff..." He exhaled a long breath, the fatigue easing out of him with it.
He walked a few laps around the memorial at the peak before settling down in the small pavilion perched on top. Here, Jiho began his breathing exercises—focusing on abdominal breathing, a technique more commonly known as diaphragmatic breathing. No, he wasn't hoping for magical powers or martial arts abilities like in the stories. What he sought was simple: peace of mind and sharper focus. At first, he couldn't meditate for more than five minutes. But with regular practice, Jiho suddenly realized that the five minutes had passed without him noticing, and that was enough for him.
"At the very least, my mind feels clearer. My concentration's bound to improve," he muttered to himself, quietly satisfied.
Jiho had decided to put off the part-time jobs he used to do, like delivering newspapers or milk. His current priority was to prepare for the upcoming midterm exams. He even started changing his eating habits. Whereas before, he would avoid foods like milk, black beans, spinach, and dried anchovies, now he made sure to include them in his diet regularly. His mother, Sim Yeong-suk, noticed these changes and felt a swell of pride. She even added stir-fried anchovies to his lunchbox, a small token of her approval.
At school, Ryu Ji-ho's transformation didn't go unnoticed either. Except during breaks, gym class, or military training, he concentrated intensely on every subject he attended.
Break time was something most students eagerly anticipated, but not Ryu Ji-ho. For him, it was just another opportunity to study, his focus unwavering as the upcoming exams loomed closer. Except for his brief appearance at the broadcasting club, Ji-ho spent all his time buried in textbooks, letting the days slip by in a quiet, concentrated solitude.
There was a time when the four of them didn't care much for rules. Back then, sneaking out during night study sessions, hopping over the school fence, and heading to the billiard hall or comic book rental shop had been a familiar routine. But now, something had changed in Ji-ho, a shift that hadn't gone unnoticed by his friends.
"Ji-ho, come on, let's grab some ramen," Jun-woo suggested, slinging his bag over his shoulder, ready to head out.
Ji-ho shook his head gently. "I can't. I need to go home and study."
Jun-woo chuckled, only half-serious. "Studying's supposed to be done the night before the exam, Ji-ho."
Ji-ho looked at them with a deep, almost affectionate gaze. "If you start studying now, by the time the exam comes, you won't forget everything."
His friends stared at him blankly, as if his words hadn't quite landed. But Ji-ho knew they didn't really care. The conversation shifted quickly, laughter filling the room again.
"So, who's paying for ramen this time? It's Jun-woo, right?"
"Where are we going after the exams?" Hwang Jae-jeong chimed in, full of excitement.
"Yeonha-dae again, like usual? This time, it's Jun-woo's turn to treat."
"Aneomone?" Jun-woo asked, half-shouting, half-questioning.
Aneomone was a small bar tucked away near the back gate of Yeonha University. They'd stumbled upon it by chance at the start of the semester, and ever since, it had become their secret hideaway. The bar owner never asked for ID, though he occasionally reminded them of the risks of being watched. Still, they always lied, claiming to be third-year high school students, and the owner just laughed, letting them stay as long as they didn't cause any trouble.
Ji-ho offered a thin smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Whether it's Aneomone or not, let's just focus on midterms for now."
Unfortunately, his dad-joke attempt didn't go over well. His friends stared at him with strange, almost incredulous expressions. The Ji-ho they once knew now seemed like a distant memory. Even Jae-jeong, usually the quieter one, couldn't resist speaking up.
"Ji-ho, are you really you?" he asked, squinting as if searching for some lost fragment of his friend.
Ji-ho sighed, averting his eyes. "If I'm not me, then who else could I be?"
But Jae-jeong wasn't done. "It feels like you're not the Ji-ho we used to know. Maybe you're the Ji-ho from the future, like in *Back to the Future*?"
They laughed, though the laughter was awkward. Ji-ho knew, deep down, that Jae-jeong might not be entirely wrong. The Ji-ho they'd grown up with had changed. He no longer cared about the things that used to make them all laugh together.
But Ji-ho didn't want to stretch the conversation out any longer. He stood up, glancing at the clock on the wall, its ticking almost soothing. "The last train's about to come. Let's get going."
After a few seconds of silence, they finally rose, still puzzled by the transformation in Ji-ho. In his heart, Ji-ho knew it was only temporary—after the exams, maybe everything would go back to the way it was. But for now, all he could do was hope his friends would understand.
"Jae-jeong has a talent for noticing things that don't matter," Ji-ho thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips.