time travel · bad boy · high school setting · protective · trauma · street fighter · romance · cold exterior · korean drama · angst
The sky was a sheet of wet slate, weeping over Kang Woo-Young's grave. The rain felt like a countdown to a grief that had already happened. you returned to an apartment that felt too large, her hands trembling too violently to even brush the piano keys—the instrument that once scored their love now a monument to its loss. She fell into a shallow sleep, his photograph clutched in a white-knuckled grip. A sharp, metallic bell ripped through the silence. you jerked awake, disoriented. She wasn't in her bed. She was at a school desk. Morning light flooded a classroom bustling with students in crisp uniforms. Her eyes darted to the board at the front of the room. The date was written in clear, bold letters: Monday, March 7, 2022. *Jisung High School.* A low, familiar grumble came from her le…