Arav snapped back to reality, mumbling,
"Was it really a dream?"
He knew it was just a dream, yet something about it felt disturbingly real. But there was no time to dwell on it.
"Anyway!" he sighed. "The presentation, huh?"
Arav was never the kind of student who poured his heart into studies, but he understood the importance of being present. Even if he never truly listened in class, he still attended every lecture, treating it as nothing more than a formality.
He unlocked his phone and checked his DMs. His classmate had sent the presentation topic.
"Alright."
Time passed, and Arav was on his way to class when a notification from the college group popped up:
> Dear students,
Due to scheduling issues, all first-year and final-year students are requested to assemble in the main hall. Presentations will be wrapped up together.
This should be a great learning experience for everyone!
Thanks!
His heart dropped into his throat.
"What the hell?"
He looked at the AI-generated script in his hands.
"Okay, okay... All I have to do is go there and recite whatever is written on this paper. It's all just a formality, right? Right?"
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the hall.
The front rows were packed with students from both semesters, and just looking at the crowd made his chest tighten. Claustrophobic. There weren't many empty seats left, but after scanning the hall, he spotted a small space.
"Hey man, can you move a bit?" he asked, trying to slide in.
But just as he was about to sit, a realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.
No way…
Memories of her—the girl from yesterday—flashed in his mind.
"Shit."
He tried to back away, but it was too late. Another girl slid into the seat beside him, squeezing him in the middle.
"Damn it. Why? Why me?"
As soon as the short-haired girl noticed him, her cheeks turned red.
"Amm..." she hesitated, the air between them growing heavy.
The hall buzzed with murmurs and side conversations, yet between them, there was only silence.
Finally, she broke it.
"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry about the other day!" she blurted out, embarrassed.
Arav remained silent, his eyes unreadable.
The girl, still flustered, glanced at his face. The dried blood on one side was still faintly visible.
"What happened to your face?" she asked.
"It's nothing. Just a scratch," he replied nonchalantly.
But inside, his mind screamed—Please, get me the hell out of here!
The girl, still slightly blushing, fidgeted with her sleeves.
"It's not what you think! I was in the male restroom because... something was wrong with the female restroom."
Arav raised an eyebrow. "What?"
She hesitated before continuing.
"A janitor... an old male janitor was there."
Arav's posture stiffened.
"What?" His tone turned serious. "What did he do?"
"He was cleaning..."
His serious expression faded.
"Isn't that what a janitor is supposed to do?" he asked, confused.
The girl shook her head.
"No, you don't understand! The moment I opened the door, it just—" her face turned red "—it was an emergency! So I ran to the male restroom instead. There was no one else around at the time!"
A few students in the hall turned their heads. Her voice had been a little too loud.
Laughter erupted.
Embarrassed, the girl buried her face in her hands.
The room slowly returned to normal as presentations began. But Arav, feeling a strange sense of discomfort himself, leaned closer to her.
She glanced up at him, her eyes holding a quiet sadness.
"Are you really sure you're 22?"
She blinked, taken aback by the question.
He continued, "Why are you even telling me all this? I forgot about it the moment it happened."
The girl lowered her gaze.
"I'm sorry..." she mumbled.
Arav sighed. "Look, you exposed yourself. But don't worry. They won't remember. Just go up there and give your presentation with confidence."
A bit more relaxed now, he added, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to see you like that."
The girl's face turned a shade redder, as if recalling the image of Arav's muscular back.
Then, after a moment of silence, she asked, "What about the scars on your back?"
Arav tensed.
"Back when I was in school, some guys used to carve stuff into their arms with blades."
But the scars on his back were different. They weren't thin blade marks. They were thick. Deep. Like someone had carved them with a knife. Two long slashes forming an 'X'—and another, straight down his lower back.
The girl stared at him.
"That doesn't look like something small..."
He looked away.
"It's something that happened a long time ago."
He forced a smile.
"I don't really remember it."
But the truth was—he remembered everything.
Memories of begging them to stop flashed in his mind.
His face betrayed him.
Girl's hand hesitantly rested on Arav's shoulder. Still blushing, she whispered, "Don't worry, you can tell me what happened."
Arav stiffened. What the hell…?
A story flashed through his mind.
> Once, a sly fox saw a tree with ripe, purple grapes hanging high, their sweet aroma filling the air. The fox leaped again and again, trying to reach them. But after countless failed attempts, it finally gave up, muttering to itself, "The grapes are probably sour anyway."
That had always been Arav's motto. He had crushed his own expectations so many times that he no longer believed anything good would ever happen to him.
Yet, here she was—showing him empathy.
It felt… unnatural.
No way…
His heart pounded faster.
The girl shifted slightly, adjusting herself for comfort. But in doing so, she unintentionally squeezed them closer together. Now, even Arav's face had turned slightly red.
"I'm Syra," she said, attempting to break the tension. "I'm in my second year."
Arav gulped, suddenly aware of how warm the room felt.
"I'm Arav. Third year. I mean… I'm in my third year."
The awkwardness between them grew. He could feel the warmth of her presence pressing against him, and from the way she averted her gaze, she was just as flustered.
"So… are you on anstagram?" she asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
"I deleted all my social media a long time ago," he replied.
Syra blinked. "Oh…"
Arav, on the other hand, was spiraling. Could it be…?
His heart was practically on the verge of exploding. His imagination ran wild—
Spending time together.
Falling in love.
Getting married.
Having kids.
Coming home from work to a bright little voice calling out, "Papa!"
Growing old together.
Dying side by side.
The whole illusion of self-improvement he had built around himself shattered in an instant.
"Love. Love is what I want."
His daydream was abruptly cut short by the sound of his name being announced on stage.
"Yes, sir!" he called out instinctively.
Syra leaned in slightly. "Are you free after this?"
For a second, Arav felt as if his soul had left his body.
But then—No way…
A sudden realization struck him.
A very, very uncomfortable one.
Something felt wrong with his pants.
Syra noticed his hesitation. "Something wrong?"
"N-no, it's fine," he blurted out, forcing himself to stay calm.
Thankfully, his oversized clothes provided enough cover to save him from complete embarrassment.
Has God finally recognized me? He asked
Arav's ankle was still an issue, but most of the swelling had gone down. He could place his foot on the ground now, though he had to shift most of his weight onto his other leg to walk properly.
As he limped onto the stage, his thoughts were clear—until his focus drifted back to his pants.
A dog. A dog indeed I was.
With that passing thought, he reached for the script paper he had prepared.
But then—
A tree.
"What?"
His breath hitched.
He looked around, expecting the classroom, the stage, the sea of students watching him. But none of it was there.
Instead, he stood near a muddy road, surrounded by nothing but open space and the lone tree before him.
And then he looked down.
His heart stopped.
He was completely stripped of his clothes.
"Where—where am I?"
His mind spiraled, flipping upside down as panic surged through him.
Nothing made sense.
The lecture hall. The presentation. The people.
All gone.
"What just happened? Where… where exactly am I?"