Chapter 153

Time passed after that.

Just as the name suggested—”The Past I Can’t Escape”—she couldn’t look away from it.

Not even from a past filled with regrets.

Her own mind remembered more than she ever thought possible, replaying those moments in vivid detail.

So Yeri was on the verge of going insane, jumping out of her skin.

—Creak, creak.

Shin Jae-heon and Shin Yuri were trying their absolute best not to bother her.

If a conversation seemed like it might drag on, they’d wheel her bed right out of the room. Otherwise, they’d stick to writing notes.

There’s no need to be so careful!

Watching from the sidelines, So Yeri felt like she was about to lose her mind. Even her past self thought it was boring.

All she did all day was stare out the window.

Even that was impossible for long—the sunlight was too harsh.

“Just… “

You could talk, you know. But those words never left her past self’s mouth.

It’d hurt my pride to take it back now, wouldn’t it?

So she just kept her mouth shut and lay there.

Deliberately tuning her ears to other sounds.

The only visitors she got were the medical staff.

Years of illness had severed her ties with everyone else.

‘It’ll be a long battle.’

‘Can treatment cure it?’

‘I can’t make any promises, but we’ll do our best.’

Maybe getting a terminal diagnosis at such a young age was too much stress.

Or maybe she’d lived too irritably.

Or loved spicy food too much?

There was no point blaming herself.

Her dream of entering college and enjoying campus life like everyone else was already shattered.

After a year of treatment, when she finally returned to school, her classmates were gone.

She was just a gaunt returning student.

And after another lonely semester, the illness relapsed, landing her back in the hospital.

After years of this, it was no wonder her nerves were frayed.

Knowing that, the people around her tried to understand.

‘Just go!’

But it was her past self who’d rejected their kindness.

She hated their pity.

Every new visitor bringing “get well” gifts— their clothes, their presents—only fueled her rage.

It felt like they were flaunting what she couldn’t have or enjoy.

She knew it wasn’t true, but her twisted reactions came anyway. Naturally, people stopped coming.

And as the illness worsened, she stopped turning on her phone altogether.

She cut off contact. She didn’t want anyone seeing her like this.

“Might as well sleep.”

Her past self muttered and closed her eyes.

As her vision darkened and her breathing quickened slightly,

So Yeri, watching, suddenly heard voices from outside.

“We’re not trying to take anything… “

It was Shin Yuri’s voice, incredibly cautious.

“You can’t enter her personal space.”

The nurse was trying to stop her, but she pleaded earnestly.

“Then could I just take that IV pole out?”

“The pole?”

She could hear them chatting softly.

“Yes.”

“Why…?”

Rustling sounds followed, as if Shin Yuri was showing something.

“I wanted to hang this on it.”

“Oh.”

The nurse, who’d been blocking her, looked conflicted.

“I cleaned it thoroughly. No dust or anything. I just thought she’d like it for looking out the window… “

“Hmm.”

The nurse pondered aloud.

Then the curtain rustled open slightly, and the wheeled pole rolled out.

What the hell? So noisy?

A surge of irritation—that had to be her past self’s emotion.

Watching, So Yeri felt suffocated. She knew what happened next in this memory.

“……”

Luckily, her past self didn’t even have the energy to snap. She just lay there.

And after some time—

—Rustle.

The curtain opened carefully, and the pole rolled back in.

A tiny whisper followed.

“Press this, and it opens like this.”

—Snap.

The fabric unfurled. The nurse’s voice came.

“Oh.”

She sounded surprised but pleased.

In the end, her past self opened her eyes.

Knowing the future, the watching So Yeri screamed internally.

Her past self flinched as if hearing it, then snapped at Shin Yuri the moment she saw her.

“What are you doing in my space?”

No matter what the future So Yeri said, the irritated words flew out anyway.

“Ah, sorry. This… press the button to open it, press again to close… “

Shin Yuri looked troubled, pointing at the pole.

Looking up, the pole was blocked by a large shadow.

Skillfully attached to it was a parasol.

“It seemed like the sunlight bothered you when looking outside. I thought it might help… “

At Shin Yuri’s words, her past self’s eyes widened.

It had holes punched for folding on the pole—unavoidable—but it would definitely block the sun.

It was an incredibly thoughtful gift for someone across the room who’d only ever snapped at her.

Especially from strangers.

Her past self forgot what to say for a moment.

Shin Yuri scratched her head, looking even more apologetic.

“It’s a bit shabby… but it blocks the sun well.”

Shin Yuri explained eagerly. Sure enough, it precisely shaded the window.

With this, she could gaze outside much longer.

“I thought it’d make it more comfortable.”

Shin Yuri’s voice grew quieter.

Probably from the past self’s prickly glare.

So damn annoying.

Thinking that, her past self closed her eyes.

The watching So Yeri screamed inside, but Shin Yuri slipped out.

“Sorry for disturbing your rest.”

As Shin Yuri spoke, her past self went further, snapping sharply.

“Get out, quick.”

And watching it all, So Yeri was beside herself.

…Yeah, she was.

She couldn’t remember much else, but she remembered snapping plenty.

Karma, it’s karma…

Thinking that, So Yeri still couldn’t stifle her silent screams.

The nastiness didn’t end there.

After Shin Yuri left.

“Such a nuisance.”

Her past self struggled to sit up and yanked the pole.

She stubbornly folded the parasol.

—Snap!

With the sun-blocker gone, harsh light flooded back in.

Hot and stinging.

Thinking that, she pulled the blanket over her head.

For days after, her past self kept snapping, as if the siblings across the way personally offended her.

“Can’t you switch my room?”

She even said it loudly enough for the nurse to hear while they were there.

“No empty beds right now.”

“Then when one opens up?”

During the exchange, the two across held their breath, of course.

She hadn’t even unfolded the parasol Yuri gave her.

Hole-punched parasol.

Her past self glared daggers at it, but the watching So Yeri felt differently.

If only she’d just said thanks.

So Yeri knew how to break free from this past.

She felt her past self’s shame, guilt, pride, gratitude—all tangled up.

“You can be discharged this afternoon.”

During morning rounds, the doctor’s voice from across the curtain intensified those thoughts.

Lucky them.

They had the strength to hang parasols and were getting discharged.

Twisted envy flooded her mind.

She knew the doctor would just check her chart and leave without looking at her.

“Lee Jin-ah?”

The doctors parted the curtain and entered.

Habitually, her past self pulled the blanket up to her shoulders.

She didn’t want to show her emaciated body after years of illness.

“Today… “

She let the doctor’s chart-reading drone in one ear and out the other.

And that afternoon.

Before lunch, the bed across got noisy.

“Kids, heading out? You did great.”

“That girl over there is always kinda angry.”

The whispers from the opposite bed pierced her ears.

“She’s been tough on us too.”

It was soft, but she heard every word.

“No.”

“Come on, they were on the verge of tears. Those sweet kids will understand.”

Hearing that, her past self flung the curtain open.

“……!”

Her eyes met the patient, guardian, and Shin Jae-heon next to them, who’d been whispering.

“Oh, what’s for lunch today?”

They blatantly ignored her, pulling their curtain shut.

In the end, her gaze locked with Shin Jae-heon and Shin Yuri’s.

“Heading out?”

Her past self said sharply.

Regardless of the system, So Yeri felt crushed by her past self’s emotions.

Irritation, shame, anger, guilt, jealousy, gratitude.

Their eyes fixed on her as gazes met.

“……!”

Forgotten in flinging the curtain, her frail body was exposed. She hurriedly tried to close it.

“Yes, discharge today.”

But the damage was done.

Shin Jae-heon spoke softly out of habit, then cleared his throat.

How low was he trying to keep his voice? It was hoarse.

The watching So Yeri felt suffocated.

A mix of frustration, pride, and twisted feelings coexisted.

The latter still dominated, like being controlled by her past self.

“Thank you for everything! Get well soon!”

Shin Yuri said. Thank us for what? All you heard was me snapping.

But her response was different.

“Ask if I can get well first.”

Shin Yuri scratched her head at that.

As the watching So Yeri screamed internally, Shin Jae-heon smiled at her.

“Wow, you look great today.”

Before her face could twist at his words, Shin Yuri smacked the back of his head.

“She’s always like that.”

“Oh, really? I just lie here.”

Even back then, huh.

The watching So Yeri chuckled anew. But not her past self.

Her expression hardened.

“Um… “

She bit her lip. The current So Yeri knew the words she’d failed to say then.

She knew why it looped.

She knew how to break the cycle.

She knew why this scene stuck in her dreams.

She knew what she regretted.

“Um… “

Her past self mumbled again.

The kids patiently waited for the words stuck in her throat.

Her gaze drifted to the parasol.

Hole-punched parasol.

It hung shabby, as Yuri said, but it worked perfectly.

And above all, she felt their care for her.

But her past self never said it.

Thank you.

The watching So Yeri knew the future.

After sending the kids away from that spot, hours later, she saw the news.

[(Breaking News) Eunryeong High School in Seoul inaccessible due to ‘anomalous phenomenon’]

[Over 700 students and staff from Eunryeong High School missing]

Only when the hospital room gasped at the news did she realize.

The kids who’d offered her kindness despite her sharpness—what hell they’d fallen into.