"Ryung!"
The sharp call of my name rang across the campus—my only warning before a solid force barreled into me from behind. Arms latched around my neck, and I stumbled forward, the books I'd been clutching to my chest slipping from my grasp and crashing onto the pavement.
A grunt tore from my throat as I reached back on instinct, my hands gripping a jean-clad thigh. A thigh that belonged to a giggling menace whose voice I knew all too well.
"Bora," I groaned, legs already shaking under her weight.
Anyone else might have handled this just fine, but considering my personal weight-lifting regimen consisted of textbooks and a laptop-heavy backpack, she was more than enough to send my muscles into early retirement.
My heartbeat slammed against my ribcage as I forced a slow, controlled breath. Don't drop her. No matter how tempting it was to let my childhood friend crash to the ground, I wasn't about to humiliate either of us in front of half the student body. I wasn't exactly a campus celebrity—most people probably didn't even know my name—but if I became the guy who dumped a girl on her ass in broad daylight, that would change real quick.
Not that Bora screaming my name at full volume was helping my case.
"I thought we agreed not to do this anymore," I muttered, loosening my grip on her thighs—a clear get down already signal.
Bora slid off me and circled around, flashing an innocent grin. "If I remember correctly, you mentioned not doing it, and I listened."
I shot her a flat look as I crouched to gather my scattered books. "Listening is an overstatement."
She just smiled wider, brown eyes sparkling with that signature, childlike mischief. It was infuriatingly infectious. Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitched up.
Then my gaze flicked to my watch, and the warmth of our usual banter cooled.
"Did you actually need something?" I asked, already impatient. "If not, I have to go—my part-time—"
"Hey! Watch it!"
The sharp snap of a girl's voice cut through the air, followed by a man's startled cry.
Before I could even turn toward the commotion, a charge rippled through the atmosphere, crackling against my skin like static before a storm. My breath hitched. The air itself seemed to hum—thick, electric, wrong. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to move, to get away, but I only managed a single step back.
Then, the light shifted.
The sun, bright and high overhead just moments ago, dimmed as a jagged white line carved itself into the open space of the campus. A splinter in reality. A wound. It crackled like lightning, then twisted, splitting apart like unseen hands were prying it open.
A gate.
My stomach churned.
To the right, a pair of students lay sprawled on the ground, no doubt having thrown themselves out of the way at the last second. They were lucky. A heartbeat slower, and they might've been vaporized. But judging by their slack-jawed expressions as they stared at the glowing tear in space, you'd think they'd just been handed front-row seats to the coolest event of the year.
Beside me, Bora took a subtle step forward.
I noticed it immediately—how she positioned herself in front of me.
The smile that had lingered on my face moments ago disappeared.
Her reaction was normal. Mine wasn't.
Most people would be intrigued at the sight of a fresh gate opening up in the middle of campus. They'd be excited—eager, like dogs catching the scent of a hunt. Some were already buzzing about what kind of dungeon it might be, what kind of loot could be scored.
Me?
I just wanted to turn around and run.
"Did one really have to open on campus?" a male student grumbled nearby.
Another groaned about the inconvenience. Someone else muttered about noise levels and upcoming exams, as if the biggest concern here was studying in peace rather than not dying.
Depending on the dungeon's level, guilds would be swarming the place within the hour, bidding for rights, gathering hunters, scrambling to get their cut before the gate decided to snap shut again.
"That's so cool," Bora whispered, her voice tinged with awe. But I heard something else too—something quieter. Longing. Regret.
A lump formed in my throat.
"We should go," I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
Bora turned, brows furrowing like she couldn't quite comprehend why I'd want to leave.
"I have to get to my shift," I added, forcing a casual tone. "You needed something?"
She hesitated, then seemed to accept the excuse. Waving me off, she said, "I'll message you later. Have a good shift, Ryung."
I nodded, though she was no longer looking at me. That was fine.
It meant she wouldn't see me practically bolting off campus.
Bora was no stranger to my fear of the gates—or my fear of life in general. But that didn't mean I liked showing her my cowardice any more than the next guy.
She understood why I was like this. She never judged me.
Not like everyone else did.
To them—to most of the world—gates and dungeons were as ordinary as breathing.
For me to still be afraid, even after awakening, made me little more than a child.
Jaw tight, I hugged my books closer to my chest and hurried away, leaving the gate—and the past it threatened to drag up—far behind me.