This can't be
It had been almost a few days since they'd found themselves flung into the future, and the initial shock was only beginning to settle. Meeting their future selves had been a whirlwind—some encounters more amusing than others. Future Minnie— who forgot she had a date with her wife, Soyeon— Future Yuqi’s ex wife, Miyeon— who’s apparently Minnie's wife.
Then there was Future Yuqi, who, for some reason, had been assigned as their temporary babysitter. Young Soyeon found this absolutely nerve-wracking. The idea of relying on Yuqi—past or future—was enough to make her skin crawl. Young Yuqi was already a chaotic whirlwind of unpredictability, and Future Yuqi, despite her slightly more mature appearance, carried the exact same air of recklessness for someone who turned out to be 25 years older. It made Soyeon hesitant to trust her fully.
"Okay, kids!" Future Yuqi clapped her hands together with a wide grin, looking far too excited about her role.
Minnie immediately shuddered. She leaned toward Miyeon, whispering in a low, horrified tone, "Yuqi calling us kids still kinda creeps me out. Having her older than us makes me uncomfortable." She scrunched her nose as if the thought alone was enough to physically repel her.
Miyeon stifled a laugh, sneaking a glance at Future Yuqi, who was obliviously stretching her arms as if she was about to coach a summer camp. "Yeah, it feels wrong," Miyeon muttered back. "Like, we’re supposed to be the same age, but now she’s acting like an adult? It’s weird."
Future Yuqi, overhearing just enough to catch onto their discomfort, smirked. "Oh, come on, don’t act like this isn’t the best timeline. I’m responsible now."
Soyeon scoffed. "Define responsible."
Future Yuqi tapped her chin thoughtfully before shrugging. "Well, nobody has died under my watch. Yet."
Soyeon groaned, rubbing her temples while Minnie let out an exaggerated whimper.
Younger Yuqi throws her arm around her future self. “Come on guys, give future me a break. We’re lucky we got her as our own babysitter until we figure this out.” Younger Yuqi grins at the group.
"Dude, we've been here for almost a week, and we still haven't figured out how to get home," Minnie complains, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh. The frustration in her voice is clear—she's tired, and the endless search for answers is starting to wear on her.
Future Yuqi scratches her chin, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "I might actually remember when and how long we came back to our proper timeline," she chirps, tapping a finger against her temple. The others perk up at her words, eager for any sort of clue.
She hums, brows furrowing as if trying to pull a distant memory from the depths of her mind. "So, like, you guys have been here for a few days, right?"
The group nods in unison, anticipation thick in the air.
"It's a little blurry," Future Yuqi admits, "but I remember exactly that we stayed here for... two months or so?"
A sharp, collective gasp fills the space.
"Two months?!" Shuhua shrieks, eyes widening in horror. The disbelief in her voice is dramatic—almost too dramatic—as she clutches at her chest like she’s in the middle of a tragic play.
"That long?!" Miyeon echoes, her voice cracking slightly. "You mean we’re stuck here for two whole months?"
Soyeon pinches the bridge of her nose, exhaling through gritted teeth. "We don’t have time for that. There has to be a way to speed this up."
Yuqi watches their reactions with mild amusement, lips quirking up into a smirk. "Yeah, it sucked, but look on the bright side! We had free food and shelter, and we didn’t, y’know, die."
Minnie groans. "That's not exactly reassuring, Yuqi."
Shuhua throws her hands up. "I cannot be stuck here for two months! I have things to do! A life to get back to!"
Future Yuqi shrugs, unfazed. "Hey, I survived. You will too."
The group collectively groans, realizing that their situation might be worse than they initially thought.
“Yo, don’t worry too much. I forgot about what happened, really,” Future Yuqi chirps, offering a reassuring smile. “I think when we got back, it felt like some weird dream, and we returned the same day we got here.”
She watches the group’s tense expressions, hoping that her words will lift some of their anxiety. After all, what’s the point in panicking if things will sort themselves out in the end?
“See? We don’t have to worry about anything!” Younger Yuqi chimes in, grinning as she nudges Shuhua with her elbow. “It’s basically like a free vacation.”
Shuhua rolls her eyes but visibly relaxes. The rest of the group lets out a collective sigh, the weight of their earlier panic easing just a little.
“You’re right,” Soyeon finally admits, running a hand through her hair. She exhales deeply, letting her shoulders drop. "There’s no point in freaking out if we’ll just end up back home like nothing happened."
Future Yuqi hums in agreement, rocking on the heels of her feet. "Exactly! And hey, in the meantime, we might as well make the most of it. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get some cool memories out of this."
As the group slowly comes to terms with their situation, Soyeon glances at Yuqi, her lips twitching into a small, almost reluctant smile. “You always find a way to make everything seem less serious than it is.”
Yuqi winks playfully. “That’s my charm.”
Soyeon rolls her eyes but doesn’t hide the amused glint in them. She crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly. "You better not make this harder than it needs to be."
Yuqi smirks, stepping a little closer, just enough that Soyeon notices. “No promises, captain. I happen to like messing with you.”
Soyeon scoffs, but the way her fingers fidget slightly against her sleeve doesn’t go unnoticed by younger Yuqi.
The conversation moves on, the group settling into an easier atmosphere, but Yuqi can’t help but steal a glance at Soyeon every now and then. And if Soyeon catches her once or twice and doesn’t immediately look away—well, Yuqi won’t complain.
“I have a meeting in like two hours, so I have to pass you to Minnie,” Future Yuqi announces, scrolling through her phone with a sigh. “For now, anyway, because I don’t even know if she has time for us. I barely see her these past few months, and Miyeon’s been complaining that Minnie has barely been coming home too. Dahlia misses her.”
At the mention of a name she doesn’t recognize, younger Minnie’s ears perk up. She tilts her head, eyebrows furrowing. “Dahlia?”
“Ah, yeah! My niece, their daughter.” Future Yuqi responds absentmindedly, still focused on her phone.
Minnie almost collapses.
“Wait, wait, wait—their daughter?” She stares at Yuqi, her brain scrambling to put the pieces together. Her heart stutters in her chest. “As in… Miyeon and I have a kid?”
Future Yuqi blinks, finally looking up from her phone. “Uh, yeah?” She frowns at Minnie’s reaction, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you would’ve figured that out by now.”
Minnie’s jaw drops. Her hands shoot up to her temples as she processes the revelation. “Oh my god. I— we— Miyeon and I—”
A slow, mischievous grin spreads across Yuqi’s face as she watches Minnie’s meltdown. “Oh, this is good.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” Soyeon mutters, shaking her head.
Minnie turns to her frantically. “Soyeon, this is serious! I have a whole child in the future and nobody thought to tell me?!”
Future Yuqi snorts. “I literally just told you.”
Minnie groans, dragging her hands down her face. “This is insane. I am not prepared for this. I am barely responsible enough to take care of myself, and now you’re telling me I’m responsible for a tiny human being?!”
“Not just any tiny human—Miyeon’s tiny human,” younger Yuqi chimes in, wiggling her eyebrows. “Which means, at some point, you two—”
“Don’t say it,” Minnie warns, glaring at her.
“—made a tiny human.”
Minnie lets out a strangled noise and buries her face in her hands.
Then, all of a sudden—
“Excuse me?!”
Everyone turns to Miyeon, who, up until now, had been standing frozen, her mouth slightly open as if her brain had completely short-circuited.
Future Yuqi gives her a blank look. “What? You already know you two are married.”
“Yes, but a kid?!” Miyeon exclaims, looking genuinely flustered. “No one told me that!”
Future Yuqi shrugs. “Did you think you two were just gonna stare lovingly into each other’s eyes forever?”
Miyeon splutters. “I—I thought we were happy just being married! No one said anything about a child!”
Future Yuqi smirks. “Well, surprise! You and Minnie are parents now.”
Miyeon’s face flushes, and she turns to Minnie, who still looks like she’s buffering. “Minnie, did you know about this?”
Minnie, still overwhelmed, lets out a choked laugh. “Miyeon, I just found out. I think I’m having an out-of-body experience.”
Future Yuqi sighs, shaking her head. “Wow. You two are acting like I just told you you’re responsible for an entire orphanage. It’s just one kid.”
Miyeon turns back to her, blinking rapidly. “Just one?! Yuqi, that’s a whole human life!”
Future Yuqi waves a hand dismissively. “Relax, you guys are great parents. Dahlia practically worships you both. It’s adorable.” She grins. “And honestly? You two are so disgustingly in love, it was only a matter of time before you started a family.”
Miyeon, still dazed, slowly exhales and asks in a softer voice, “How old is she?”
Future Yuqi’s expression softens slightly. “Eighteen, turning nineteen. Quite a musician if you ask me.” She grins. “I tried convincing her to be an idol, but she insisted on being a violin player.”
Miyeon and Minnie exchange glances, both of them visibly struggling to wrap their heads around the idea that somewhere in the future, they have a nearly grown daughter—one who plays the violin, no less.
“A violin player?” Minnie echoes, blinking.
Future Yuqi nods. “Yep. Super talented, too. She gets it from Miyeon, obviously. But, you know, I tried to get her to follow in our footsteps.” She sighs dramatically. “Alas, she rejected the idol life.”
Miyeon lets out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “I… I don’t even know what to say.”
Minnie groans,sitting beside Miyeon in pure distress. “I need a minute.”
Miyeon, despite her own internal panic, instinctively reaches up to play with Minnie’s fingers, grounding herself in the warmth of her future wife’s touch. “…Yeah, me too.”
Future Yuqi watches them with a smirk before turning to Soyeon and whispers. “Wow. They are so whipped.”
Soyeon sighs. “You have no idea.”
“So… when do we get to meet her?” Minnie asks, still feeling a bit dazed by everything she’s learned.
Future Yuqi hums, checking her phone. “I don’t know. She’s in Taiwan right now. Her and Shuhua’s daughter are on vacation together, considering it’s summer break.”
The room goes still.
Shuhua, who had been casually leaning against the wall, blinks. “…My daughter?”
Yuqi doesn’t look up from her phone. “Yeah.”
Shuhua frowns, her voice quieter now. “I have a daughter too?”
Future Yuqi nods, but there’s something hesitant in her expression—like she’s already bracing herself for the next question.
Shuhua, understandably shocked, lets out a breathless laugh. “Wait. Hold on. Me? I have a kid?” She presses a hand to her chest like she’s trying to ground herself. “An actual child?”
Yuqi forces a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. You do.”
Shuhua stares at her, searching her face for more. “With… who?”
There’s a beat of silence.
Yuqi’s grip on her phone tightens. “You’ll find out when it’s time.”
Shuhua blinks, taken aback. “What?”
Yuqi exhales through her nose, forcing her tone to stay light. “I mean, do you really want spoilers for your own love life?” She chuckles, but it sounds hollow. “What if knowing changes things? What if you freak out and ruin it?”
Shuhua furrows her brows. “That’s not fair. You told Minnie and Miyeon about their kid. Why can’t you tell me?”
Yuqi looks away, her jaw tensing for just a second before she masks it with a smirk. “Because you’re you.”
Shuhua scoffs. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does,” Yuqi insists, but there’s something fragile underneath her words. “Trust me, it’s better this way.”
Shuhua stares at her, sensing that there’s more to this—something Yuqi isn’t saying.
The room suddenly feels heavier.
Soyeon, who had been silently watching, clears her throat, trying to ease the tension. “What’s her name?” she asks.
Future Yuqi seems grateful for the change of subject. “Magnolia.”
Shuhua’s breath catches. “…Magnolia.” She repeats the name softly, as if testing how it feels on her tongue. “That’s beautiful.”
Yuqi’s expression softens. “Yeah. She is.”
Shuhua is still lost in thought, the weight of this future settling deep in her chest. “And she’s close with Minnie and Miyeon’s daughter?”
Yuqi nods. “They grew up together. Practically sisters.”
Minnie, despite her lingering shock, smiles a little. “That’s kind of beautiful.”
Future Yuqi nods, but there’s something distant in her gaze—like she’s seeing something the rest of them can’t.
Miyeon tilts her head. “You’re being awfully quiet now, Yuqi.”
Yuqi snaps out of her daze and grins, but it’s forced. “What? Nah, I’m just thinking about how weird it is, talking about the future like this.” She stretches her arms. “Anyway, they’re on vacation, so you’ll have to wait a bit to meet them.”
Younger Yuqi, who had been unusually silent during all of this, suddenly perks up. “Wait, what about us?”
Future Yuqi raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Younger Yuqi gestures between herself and Soyeon. “Do we have a kid?”
The others pause, now curious. Even Soyeon, who normally wouldn’t entertain the idea of discussing her own future, glances at Future Yuqi with mild interest.
Future Yuqi lets out a soft chuckle. “Yeah. We do.”
Soyeon nods, unsurprised. She had known this already.
“A son,” Future Yuqi continues. “Jisoo. He’s ten now.”
Younger Yuqi swallows hard. It’s one thing to know she and Soyeon end up married—and later divorced—but hearing about their child? That makes it real in a way she wasn’t prepared for.
“That’s so cool,” she says, but there’s something shaky in her voice.
Future Yuqi offers a small smile. “Yeah. He’s amazing.”
Soyeon, ever composed, leans back slightly. “How often do you see him?”
Future Yuqi hesitates. “We share custody. He spends time with both of us.”
The words are casual, almost rehearsed, but Younger Yuqi catches the way Future Yuqi’s hands clench slightly, the tension she’s trying to hide.
“I see,” Soyeon says simply. She already knew, but there’s something about hearing Yuqi say it aloud that stirs something unfamiliar in her chest.
Younger Yuqi, meanwhile, feels something heavy press against her ribs. “Are we happy?” she blurts before she can stop herself.
Future Yuqi’s expression flickers—just for a second.
Soyeon’s sharp gaze flickers between the two versions of Yuqi.
The silence stretches.
Future Yuqi opens her mouth, then closes it. Finally, she settles on, “Jisoo is happy. And that’s what matters.”
The answer is careful, deliberate. Not untrue, but not the one Younger Yuqi had wanted.
Younger Yuqi looks at Soyeon, searching for something—anything—in her expression. But as always, Soyeon is unreadable.
A quiet tension settles over them. Not anger, not sadness, but something more complicated. The weight of knowing the future but not fully understanding it yet.
And yet, despite all the revelations, Shuhua’s gaze lingers on Yuqi, suspicion creeping in.
Because Yuqi had answered every question except the one Shuhua really wanted to know.
And she had done it on purpose.
But why?
Shuhua doesn’t know yet.
But she’s going to find out.
-
Minnie was busy. So was Soyeon. Both were away, tied up in the expansion of their joint company. Miyeon was in Paris, swamped with work, though she swore she’d take them in when she got back.
That left Future Yuqi with one last choice.
And she hated it.
She lingered in the living room for a beat too long, her usual energy dimmed, something unreadable shadowing her face. Shuhua noticed it right away—how Yuqi hesitated, how she glanced at her phone but didn’t immediately make the call. It was strange. Yuqi was never hesitant, never one to overthink.
And yet, here she was.
Then, with a sigh that sounded almost… resigned, Future Yuqi excused herself. The others barely noticed, still buzzing with the aftershock of the revelations, but Shuhua wasn’t them. She caught the way Yuqi’s shoulders tensed earlier, how her fingers flexed before gripping her phone tightly, how she slipped away as quietly as possible—like she didn’t want anyone to see.
Shuhua narrowed her eyes.
Something wasn’t right.
She waited a moment, then, with carefully placed steps, followed.
Future Yuqi had ducked into one of the quieter hallways, away from curious ears. Shuhua crept closer, keeping herself just out of sight as Yuqi pressed the phone to her ear.
“…Hey.”
Shuhua frowned. That voice—Yuqi’s—was different now. Quieter. Guarded.
A response came through the speaker, too muffled to make out. But the way Yuqi immediately sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, told Shuhua enough.
“No, I know,” Yuqi muttered, exasperation creeping into her voice. “I know.”
Another pause. Yuqi shifted her weight, rubbing her temple.
“I didn’t really have a choice,” she admitted, voice lower now. “Everyone else is busy. I can’t just leave them stranded.”
Shuhua’s fingers curled into fists.
Who was she talking to? And why did she sound like she was bracing for something?
Then—
“Yeah, she’s here.”
Shuhua’s breath hitched.
She?
Her heartbeat stuttered, her stomach twisting painfully as Future Yuqi let out another sigh, quieter this time.
“No. I haven’t told her yet.”
The air around Shuhua seemed to freeze.
She doesn’t know why, but something about those words terrifies her.
Yuqi was keeping something from her.
Something big.
“I don’t know how to,” Yuqi admitted, voice softer, almost reluctant. “It’s her. You know how she’s gonna react. She’s gonna—” She cut herself off, groaning. “I just… don’t want to deal with that mess right now.”
Shuhua’s nails dug into her palms.
Her chest tightened.
Who?
Who was on the other end of that call?
Who was Yuqi so scared to tell her about?
Something dark curled in her gut, old wounds resurfacing before she could stop them.
Because there was only one person in the world Shuhua never wanted to hear from again.
And if Future Yuqi was calling them—
Her breath came shallow, vision blurring at the edges.
She suddenly wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the truth.
But deep down, she already did.
And it made her sick.
-
Future Yuqi reappeared like nothing had happened.
Her usual energy was back in full force—grinning, bouncing on the balls of her feet, all bright and carefree. To anyone else, she looked completely at ease, but Younger Yuqi wasn’t just anyone.
She caught the slight stiffness in the way Future Yuqi held herself, the way her hands flexed like she was shaking something off. And most of all, she caught the nervous flicker in her eyes—quick, fleeting, but unmistakable.
Something had changed.
Future Yuqi cleared her throat, clapping her hands together. “So, uhm… Change of plans!” she announced, a little too enthusiastically.
The others blinked at her, confused by the sudden shift.
“Since Minnie’s busy, I’m gonna drop you off somewhere else,” Future Yuqi continued, her voice steady but a little too rehearsed. “Don’t worry, I promise I’ll pick you up tonight.”
Younger Yuqi frowned slightly, sensing something off. “Where exactly is ‘somewhere else’?” she asked, arms crossing.
Future Yuqi waved a hand dismissively. “Ah, you’ll see! It’s fine, you’ll be safe.”
That did not reassure anyone.
Miyeon raised a brow. “Why do you sound like you’re trying to sell us a questionable vacation package?”
Future Yuqi let out a forced laugh. “Whaaat? Come on, it’s not that bad.”
But then, just for a second, she stole a nervous glance toward Shuhua.
And that was all it took.
The atmosphere shifted.
Shuhua, who had been quiet until now, felt it. The way Yuqi avoided looking at her for too long. The hesitation in her movements. That subtle, almost imperceptible tightness in her shoulders, like she was bracing for something.
And suddenly, Shuhua knew.
This had something to do with her.
A sinking feeling settled in her gut, her hands curling into fists at her sides.
Future Yuqi clapped her hands together, snapping the tension in the air. “Alright! No time to waste! Grab your stuff, chop chop—”
She spun on her heel, making a beeline for her keys like she was desperate to move, to keep things flowing before anyone could question her further.
But Younger Yuqi wasn’t about to let it go.
“Yuqi,” she called, voice firmer now.
Future Yuqi froze just for a split second—so quick it would’ve been easy to miss. Then she plastered a grin on her face and turned back around.
“Yeah?” she asked, too casual.
Younger Yuqi narrowed her eyes. “Who did you call?”
A tense beat of silence.
Future Yuqi’s fingers tightened around the keys in her hand.
Then, with the smoothest fake laugh she could muster, she shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
But Shuhua was worried.
And the way Future Yuqi refused to meet her eyes only made it worse.
Something was wrong.
Shuhua, thankfully, didn’t press the issue any further. Though the weight of uncertainty still sat heavy in her chest, she simply fell in step behind Future Yuqi, following along with the rest of the group.
She exhaled softly, shaking her head as if trying to clear the uneasy thoughts swirling in her mind. But before she could fully collect herself, a gentle but firm hand clapped onto her shoulder.
“You okay?” Younger Yuqi’s voice was laced with concern, her usual playful tone absent.
For a split second, Shuhua hesitated.
She could tell the truth—that something about this whole situation felt wrong, that Future Yuqi’s behavior wasn’t sitting right with her, that the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach refused to go away.
But instead, she forced a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Yeah,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”
Yuqi didn’t look entirely convinced, but she didn’t push.
And yet, as they continued walking, Shuhua couldn’t shake the feeling that she should be worried.
-
The drive to their destination was unnervingly quiet.
Sure, the futuristic car was filled with chatter—curious questions from the group, small discussions about the world around them—but there was an undercurrent of tension beneath it all. Future Yuqi tried to keep up her usual energetic demeanor, chiming in here and there, but she was painfully aware of how her grip tightened around the steering wheel with each passing mile.
She hated this feeling.
The closer they got, the harder it was to push down the nerves clawing their way up her throat.
Finally, the car slowed to a stop in front of a house.
The sight of it threw them off.
Compared to Future Yuqi’s sleek, tech-filled apartment, this house felt almost out of place—as if it belonged in their own timeline rather than the distant future. It was traditional, simple, warm. There was a lived-in feeling about it that made it clear this wasn’t just a house.
It was a home.
But that feeling of warmth did nothing to ease the growing unease in Future Yuqi’s chest.
She sighed, gripping the keys tightly before shoving them into her pocket. Then, forcing a grin, she turned to the group. “Alright, we’re here. Be cool.”
Without waiting for a response, she led them up the steps, each footstep feeling heavier than the last.
Then she reached the door.
For just a second, she hesitated, inhaling deeply before pressing the doorbell.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
A pause. Then, quick footsteps from inside.
When the door swung open, every breath in the group hitched.
A teenager stood before them, blinking in mild surprise before her eyes lit up with recognition.
“Aunty Yuqi!” she exclaimed, her voice bursting with excitement.
Shuhua’s heart stopped.
The girl—she looked like her. The same eyes, the same facial structure, even the way she tilted her head in curiosity mirrored Shuhua’s own habits.
It was like looking at a reflection from another lifetime.
Future Yuqi grinned, momentarily easing up. “Hey, Meiling! I missed you!”
The teenager eagerly stepped forward, pulling her into a tight hug before pulling back to study the unfamiliar faces standing awkwardly behind her.
Meiling frowned slightly, eyes flicking between them. “Uh… Who are they?” She squinted, looking from one face to another. “They kinda look like you guys… but younger.”
Future Yuqi scratched the back of her neck, giving a sheepish chuckle. “Yeah, about that…” she muttered before quickly changing the subject. “Hey, can you call your mom for me? I know your mama’s not here right now.”
Meiling nodded. “Yeah, sure! She’s cooking.”
And then, before anyone could prepare themselves, she turned toward the house and shouted,
“MOOOOOM!”
A loud clang echoed from inside, followed by hurried footsteps approaching the door.
The entire group stiffened, their chests tightening as a muffled voice responded from within.
“I’m coming!”
Shuhua’s blood turned to ice.
That voice.
That voice she had spent years trying to erase from her memory. The voice that haunted her in the quiet moments of the night, the one she used to find comfort in—before it had become the very thing that shattered her.
Her breath quickened.
Her hands curled into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms so hard she was sure they’d leave crescent-shaped marks.
No. No, no, no—
This couldn’t be happening.
The rapid footsteps grew closer.
Her stomach twisted violently, her pulse pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.
The others sensed the shift, glancing at Shuhua in confusion and concern. Miyeon’s brows furrowed, Minnie shifted uneasily, and Soyeon—who never missed anything—narrowed her eyes, realizing something was deeply wrong.
Future Yuqi swallowed thickly.
And then the door opened fully.
The world around them stopped.
Seo Soojin stood in the doorway.
The air was sucked from the space, thick and suffocating.
Minnie audibly gasped. Miyeon’s lips parted in shock. Soyeon’s entire body tensed. Younger Yuqi looked between Future Yuqi and the woman at the door, trying to piece together what exactly was happening.
But none of their reactions compared to Shuhua’s.
Shuhua felt like she had been punched straight in the gut.
Her knees nearly buckled.
A flood of memories—ones she had tried so damn hard to suppress—rushed in all at once.
The late-night whispers. The soft laughter. The warmth of skin against hers.
And then the gut-wrenching betrayal. The morning she had woken up to nothing.
The silence.
The heartbreak.
The hatred.
Her vision blurred. The world tilted. Her breath stuttered in her throat.
Soojin’s eyes flickered with something unreadable as she took in the younger versions of her former group members standing before her.
And then, finally, her gaze landed on Shuhua.
The moment their eyes met, time seemed to break.
Shuhua’s lips parted, but no words came out.
She couldn’t speak.
She couldn’t breathe.
This wasn’t just a glimpse into the future.
This was hell.
“Shit.”