The Blank Pages.
The next morning dawned like any other—gray skies and the muffled hum of city life filtering through my window. I rolled out of bed, still groggy, my mind swirling with the events of the past few days. Kang Mirae, the girl from my dreams, now sat just a few feet away from me in class every day. And yet, every attempt I made to talk to her ended in utter failure.
Today would be different. It had to be.
---
As I walked into the classroom, I spotted Mirae sitting at her desk, her back perfectly straight, her expression as impassive as ever. She was scribbling something in her notebook, her long black hair cascading over one shoulder like a curtain. I couldn't help but notice how focused she looked, completely immersed in whatever she was writing.
"Morning, lover boy," Seulgi chirped as she dropped into the seat beside me, breaking my train of thought. "Got another brilliant plan to win over your dream girl today?"
"Can you not?" I muttered, slumping into my chair. "I'm trying to focus."
Seulgi smirked. "Right, because standing awkwardly and mumbling is a foolproof strategy."
I ignored her, keeping my eyes on Mirae. The bell rang, and class began, but I couldn't concentrate. My gaze kept drifting back to her. What was she writing in that notebook? And why did she always seem so distant, like she was carrying the weight of something I couldn't see?
---
By lunchtime, I was determined to try again. Mirae was sitting alone under a tree in the courtyard, her notebook open on her lap. She didn't look up as I approached, and for a moment, I hesitated. But then I remembered the cryptic messages from the Fate Rewrite app: Follow the thread.
"Hi," I said, my voice more confident than I felt.
She glanced up, her dark eyes meeting mine briefly before returning to her notebook. "Hi."
Okay, so far, so good. "I was wondering… do you always eat lunch alone?"
"Does it matter?" she replied, her tone neutral but not unfriendly.
I scratched the back of my neck, searching for something clever to say. Before I could come up with anything, a gust of wind swept through the courtyard, flipping the pages of her notebook wildly. A loose paper flew out, and without thinking, I darted forward to grab it.
"Here," I said, holding it out to her.
"Thanks," she said curtly, taking it from my hand. But as she did, her fingers brushed against mine, and for a split second, I felt a jolt—like static electricity but deeper, almost as if it resonated in my chest.
She didn't seem to notice. "Be careful next time," she said, closing her notebook and standing up.
"Wait," I blurted out before I could stop myself. "What are you always writing in there?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, I thought she might actually answer. But instead, she simply said, "Nothing that concerns you," and walked away.
---
Later that day, as the final bell rang, I found myself lingering in the classroom. Most of the students had already left, but Mirae's desk was still occupied by her neatly stacked books. And there it was—the notebook.
She must've forgotten it.
I glanced around, my heart pounding. This was it—my chance to finally learn something about her. I hesitated for a moment, then reached out and picked it up.
The cover was plain, unmarked except for a faint scratch across the corner. I flipped it open, expecting to find pages filled with neat handwriting or maybe sketches. But instead, the pages were… blank.
"What the…?" I muttered, flipping through the rest of the notebook. Every single page was empty.
My pulse quickened. Why would she carry around a notebook with nothing in it? And what had she been scribbling in it earlier? I was sure I saw her writing something.
"Looking for answers already?"
I jumped, nearly dropping the notebook. Spinning around, I found myself face-to-face with Mirae, her arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her face.
"I—I wasn't—" I stammered, clutching the notebook like it was a bomb about to go off.
"You're terrible at lying," she said, stepping closer. She held out her hand. "Give it back."
I hesitated, the blank pages taunting me. "It's… empty," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why?"
Her eyes flickered with something I couldn't quite place—annoyance? Sadness? Fear? "It's none of your business," she said sharply, snatching the notebook from my hands.
"Wait," I said, desperate to keep her from walking away. "I don't understand. I've seen you writing in it. What are you hiding?"
She froze, her grip on the notebook tightening. For a moment, it looked like she might actually answer. But then she shook her head, her expression hardening.
"You wouldn't understand," she said quietly. "And even if you did, it wouldn't change anything."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with more questions than ever.
---
That night, the Fate Rewrite app buzzed again.
I unlocked my phone, my hands trembling. A new message appeared:
"Progress increased: 5%"
You've taken the first step. Now, unravel the mystery."
Below the message was an image—a single page from Mirae's notebook. But this time, it wasn't blank. Words were scrawled across it in a language I didn't recognize, the letters twisting and looping like they were alive.
"What does this mean?" I whispered, but of course, there was no answer.
Whatever Mirae was hiding, it was bigger than anything I could've imagined. And somehow, I was tied to it.
"This feels so unnatural that it's just crazy, I resonate with her so much that it feels like a dream." I muttered, still standing, gazing over her open notebook as I felt a hand touch shoulder.
"What are you doing?" She said, cold as ever.
"Oh- uhh.. I was just fixing your table! It got all messy after you left." This was a terrible excuse, no way would Mirae accept this.. anyone but her.