"Would you like to know who I am?"
...my head hurts.
"Miss Yeoju."
Who are you?
"I've met you before."
I... don't remember.
"It's okay if you can't think of anything right now."
for a moment...
"Because I remember everything."
Me... My head hurts again...
"I can wait."
......
"It's something I've been doing all along."
So, I can endure the pain.
Chapter 1. Loss of Memory
There was none. There was none, still none. 'Yoo Yeo-ju.' Unable to find her name on the S Company internship list, I sighed at the monitor. I knew that more exceptional students were ubiquitous in the 21st century, but I couldn't shake the hope that maybe she'd be able to make it. I should've followed my parents' advice and not rushed. It was almost the end of the semester, and all I had was time...
Yes. He straightened his slumped posture and, as if nothing had happened, placed his hand on the mouse with a positive attitude. It was only then that he remembered that a few days ago, he'd heard there was one vacant position for a chemistry researcher.
Park Jimin, one of my classmates. I ran into him by chance on my way out of the main building and he asked if I was planning on attending the end-of-semester party. I'd heard about it. It had already been publicly announced in the department chatroom, and all the read receipts had disappeared by the afternoon. Jimin might have subconsciously figured out that I was planning to quietly skip the event. As always.
Wearing a modern beige wool coat over a black polar fleece, he walked slowly, keeping pace with me as I chose my answer. His stride was noticeably narrow compared to his long legs, so a quick glance at him seemed a bit awkward. "You always seem to get caught up in some after-party or something. Why don't you come over at least once, just for my sake?" I wondered how to respond to his cute grumbling, trying to make things less embarrassing. I knew it. In a time when everyone is busy with their own work, caring for someone who lacks social skills and friends is no longer pretense, but consideration. Park Jimin is genuinely kind. I've been acknowledging that for quite some time.
"I failed the internship I applied for."
He rubbed his nose, which was cold, and spoke. Their parallel steps ended almost simultaneously. It was a bit unexpected, but it was a perfect change of subject.
"So that's why you were so slumped?"
"Me? I usually have a sullen expression."
"It's subtly different. You just don't know."
Then, he stretched his mouth with two fingers, making it straight. This is his usual expression. Then, he comically lowered the corners of his mouth and said firmly, "This is now." It was so absurdly funny that I stood there and laughed for a long time. Park Jimin, who had been quietly watching, made a pointless remark that it was okay if it was funny.
"So, you're not coming?"
I wondered how it went so well, but once again, my efforts were in vain, and I was completely lost. Jimin seemed to smile faintly at my bewildered face, but for some reason, the stubborn gaze that followed seemed determined to get a definitive answer. No matter how I looked at him, he truly was a bear-like snake. Ultimately, I gave in to that silent anger and had to add a few words that sounded like an excuse, ticking my nails in vain.
"Well... I don't know. I don't really get along with crowded places."
"Not many people will come. The place is close and it's at 7 o'clock, so take your time and think about it. If you go, everyone will become friends and it'll be good."
"Okay. I'll think about it."
"Just thinking about it?"
One eyebrow raised playfully as he asked.
"...I'll go when the time comes."
Even as I answered, I quietly averted my gaze. He laughed at the awkwardness of the situation, which was so often awkward. Looking back, there were more than a few things that struck me as odd. Even smiling is a drain on energy, so how could he remain so consistently cheerful? Unless he'd been receiving special lectures on the subject, how could he maintain that expression every time we met? I wondered about such trivial things.
Anyway, time passed quickly. When I asked him where he was going, he casually pointed in the opposite direction, and we naturally separated halfway down the frozen tree-lined street. "Go ahead," I said, and we waved back. Unlike Park Jimin, who was heading toward the intersection for a gathering with his high school friends, I, with no specific plans, walked straight home. It wasn't long before I realized his meeting place was exactly opposite the street we had been walking along.
I came home and thought about it. Clearly, the internship rejection was just a coincidence that didn't have a huge impact on me. But, as Jimin had said earlier, I couldn't deny that I've been feeling particularly down lately. I threw the bag that had been weighing on my shoulders all day into a corner of the house. Since it was vacation, it was pointless to just roll around in bed, so I sat down in front of the computer and reviewed the emails I'd sent to my professor. Meanwhile, the diary that was spread open like a door next to the keyboard was bothering me, so I roughly pushed it back onto the bookshelf. But, did I keep a diary?
"......"
I don't know. I just felt strangely sleepy.
Alice opened her eyes. The world that had suddenly arrived before her was a much more desaturated darkness. She didn't know why she was standing there, why her voice was so hoarse, why she had no memories of her past. But she knew clearly that her name was Alice. It was more of a setup than a conscious thought. From the very beginning, Alice had come to this world to be Alice.
Still half-asleep, she looked around in a daze. It was still a scene of black ash scattered about. Yellow and white lights appeared here and there in the distance, but only for a moment. Alice could see nothing with her piercing blue eyes except the spot beneath her feet. She was alone. She felt like crying, but she didn't. She had never learned to be lonely.
"hungry..."
She walked aimlessly. Clutching her hungry stomach, she bravely made her way through the dark fields. Occasionally, her wide, cumbersome skirt would get caught on a broken tree root, causing her to falter. But each time, she tore off the snags, layer by layer, and continued on. The sky was a distant, clear, dark cloud, as if a storm had passed. Instead of stars, the dying sun, radiating a desperate light, hung in its center—that was the first strange pattern Alice had noticed.
How much time had passed? Alice, her appearance utterly shabby, finally arrived in a certain area before she spotted someone else. She clutched the hem of her shabby, torn skirt. A stranger, draped in a worn brown cloak, readily asked.
"Where are you going?"
Alice answered.
"I don't know. Anywhere... where there's food. I'm so hungry I can't stand it."
Then, the stranger raised the corners of his mouth as if he had been waiting and smiled faintly.
"If you don't mind, please come to my house. We have plenty of food, and it's dangerous for a pretty girl to be outside the border alone at this hour."
"Oh, thank you. Really."
There was no doubt. More accurately, there was no time for it to arise. Alice was so hungry, and having met someone so benevolent on this lonely street, she couldn't bring herself to think anything suspicious. When he reached out, Alice's small, white hand naturally took his. There was no specific command to follow, but the man's gaze revealed everything. In the distance, a yellow cottage stood out. It had seemed so distant just moments ago, yet how close it had become. It was a sight for a ghost to wail.
"But who are you?"
Alice, naively drawn by the hand she held, never forgot to ask the primal question. It wasn't so much a sense of caution as a feeling that it would be polite to at least know the name of the person seeking help.
The man, whose eyes were so beautiful that he could easily be mistaken for a woman if not for his height and frame, turned around at her words. A faint, moon-like sunlight illuminated the bridge of his nose. A cool breeze blew. It was difficult to tell what season it was, but Alice guessed it was probably the end of the harvest. The scent of various grains lingered in his nostrils. The man took a deep breath and spoke.
"Please call me White Rabbit."
At the same time, the cabin door flew open.