Chapter 1 -The Orphanage

As the dawn tiptoed in through the tiny, weathered window, Eunha stirred beneath the thin blanket, her eyelids fluttering open to greet the soft glow of the rising sun. A tranquil golden hue spilled across the room, illuminating rows of neatly arranged bunk beds. Shadows danced on the walls as the morning light began to fill the modest space, revealing a dormitory adorned with worn but neatly kept furnishings—a home to several children still lost in the embrace of sleep.

This...

"Where am I?" She couldn't help but blurt out.

The creak of the door announced the arrival of someone, her presence a comforting yet authoritative figure amidst the quiet morning. "Wake up, little ones," the headmistress said, her voice carrying a tender urgency. "It's time to start the day."

One by one, the children began to stir, rubbing the remnants of sleep from their eyes. Eunha in shock, stared at the headmistress.

"H-Headmistress Mi-Young..." in silent voice she uttered.

That's their headmistress Mi-Young in the orphanage decades ago. She has long died.

Soon, the chorus of yawns and sleepy murmurs echoed in the small and crampy room. Eunha cannot help casting a curious gaze around the room. The worn wooden floorboards felt cool against her feet as she joined the others in the common area.

These kids. I know them.

She met them decades ago. Some died, went missing, had great lives, some have a bad fate ahead of them.

The orphanage, nestled in a humble province in South Korea during the early 2000s, bore the marks of financial struggle. Cracked walls whispered tales of years gone by, and the faded curtains fluttered gently in the morning breeze. Yet, amidst its modest surroundings, the place exuded a sense of community—a haven for those who had nowhere else to call home.

"Good morning, Eunha," one of the older girls greeted her with a warm smile as they shuffled towards the washroom to freshen up.

"Good morning," Eunha replied, returning the smile. This is Ji-Hye. She wasn't adopted like her in the orphanage. She stayed in the orphanage and, if she's correct, she became one of the caretakers. She didn't leave this place, unlike her who went on her own journey after she finished high school.

Eunha cannot help but feel excited as she felt her heart beat so fast. I got rebirth no? This is not a dream? She pinched her hand so hard that she even accidentally bled herself.

She looked up with small tears in her eyes. Oh God, thank you!

She tried remembering her past life and, sure thing, she could remember every single important thing. She was given this chance. Finally, one chance to change everything!

The morning bustled with activity. The headmistress Mi-Young led the children through their routines—making beds, tidying the dormitory, and preparing for breakfast. The aroma of steamed rice and savory broth wafted from the kitchen, enticing hungry stomachs.

"I hope we have rice cakes for breakfast," a younger boy named Dong-won whispered eagerly to Eunha as they lined up for their meal.

"Me too," she whispered back with a hopeful grin. For some reason, she feels like all burden was lifted up from her mind.

As an orphan, she never had that time to act spoiled or even act like a kid. All she thought back then was on how she will work hard to be able to eat and spend as much as she could.

The worn wooden tables were soon adorned with bowls of steaming rice, a simple yet comforting meal. Looking at this, Eunha felt a surge of emotions again. She closes her eyes and try to stable her ground. The children gathered around, their chatter a blend of animated conversations and sleepy murmurs.

"Did you sleep well, Eunha?" asked a girl named Min-ji sitting beside her seeing how Eunha acted.

"Yes, thank you," Eunha replied, feeling a sense of belonging amidst the camaraderie of the orphans. When was the last time she talked to Min-ji? She can't even remember.

The clinking of spoons against bowls filled the air, accompanied by the occasional laughter of children lost in morning banter. Amidst this symphony of morning rituals, the headmistress orchestrated the activities with a nurturing demeanor, ensuring every child felt seen and cared for.

"We have a lot to do today, but let's start with our studies," the headmistress Mi-young announced, and the children eagerly gathered around for their morning lessons, sharing brief moments of joy and learning in the simplicity of their lives.

The morning lessons began with a flurry of activity. The children gathered around the communal tables, textbooks and notebooks spread out before them.

"Today, we'll start with our Korean alphabet," she announced, tracing the characters on the chalkboard as the children followed along, reciting each syllable in unison.

Eunha, even though 32 years old mentally, eagerly participated, tracing the characters with her finger on her notebook. She glanced around, noticing the varying levels of comprehension among the children. Some struggled with certain letters while others excelled, but there was an air of collective support, a shared determination to learn despite the challenges they faced.

"Good job, everyone," the headmistress Mi-young praised, her smile radiating warmth as she observed their efforts. "Now, let's move on to mathematics."

The children dove into their arithmetic exercises, scratching numbers onto paper with varying degrees of confidence. Eunha found herself assisting Hyun-woo, a younger boy who struggled with addition, patiently guiding him through the problems.

"Thank you, Eunha," Hyun-woo beamed with gratitude as he grasped the concept, his eyes lighting up with newfound understanding.

As the morning lessons progressed, the orphanage buzzed with a sense of purpose and determination. Amidst the quiet hum of learning, the headmistress moved among the children, offering guidance and encouragement, fostering an environment of support and camaraderie.

"We have made such progress today!" the headmistress Mi-Young exclaimed, glancing around at the proud faces of her young pupils. "Now, it's time for some chores before lunch."

The children paired up, assigned tasks ranging from sweeping the floors to watering the small garden outside the orphanage. Eunha, eager to contribute, took on her duties with diligence, her youthful energy shining through as she worked alongside her newfound friends.

As the chores were completed, the aroma of lunch began to fill the air, signaling the next phase of the day. The children gathered around the dining area, where the headmistress and a few volunteers served a hearty meal of vegetable stew, accompanied by a bowl of steaming rice and pickled vegetables.

"Enjoy your meal, everyone," the headmistress Mi-Young said, her eyes filled with genuine care as she observed the children savoring their food.

After the satisfying meal, the children cleared their plates, returning them to the kitchen area as part of their daily routine. Eunha joined the others, taking her turn to assist in cleaning up, wiping down tables, and organizing the dining space with meticulous care.

"Great job, everyone," the headmistress Mi-young commended, her voice resonating with appreciation as she surveyed the tidy dining area. "Now, it's time for some recreation before we resume our studies."

The orphanage had a small courtyard adorned with colorful swings and a weathered seesaw, a humble playground where the children gathered to unwind and play. Eunha joined in the fun, giggling as she spun on the rusted merry-go-round with newfound friends, the joy of carefree laughter permeating the air.

"Let's see who can reach the highest!" a boy named Ki-hyun shouted, his laughter echoing across the yard as he pumped his legs to soar higher on the swings.

Eunha raced across the playground, joining in games of tag and hopscotch, reveling in the innocence of childhood joys. The shared moments of laughter and playful banter wove a tapestry of camaraderie, forging bonds that transcended their shared circumstances.

As the sun reached its zenith, casting a warm glow over the orphanage, the headmistress Mi-young called the children back indoors. It was time to resume their studies, a blend of learning and play that formed the backbone of their daily lives.

"Okay, everyone, back to your lessons," the headmistress Mi-Young gently ushered them indoors, her nurturing presence guiding the children back to their designated study areas.

Eunha returned to her spot at the table, flipping through her textbooks with a renewed sense of determination. The afternoon brought a mix of subjects—science, history, and more language lessons. Despite the challenges, the children persevered, fueled by the encouragement of the headmistress and their own budding thirst for knowledge.

Hours passed, marked by the soft shuffle of pages turning, the occasional murmurs of collaboration, and the comforting presence of shared learning. As the afternoon sun began its slow descent, casting elongated shadows through the windows, the headmistress concluded their studies for the day.

"Well done, everyone. You've worked hard today," the headmistress Mi-young praised, her smile a reflection of pride in their efforts.

The children gathered their belongings, exchanging tired but contented smiles. Eunha felt a sense of accomplishment and belonging among her peers, grateful for the warmth and guidance of the orphanage that had become her new home.

As the day drew to a close, the headmistress ushered the children into a communal area where they engaged in group activities and shared stories. Some played with toys and board games, while others indulged in drawing and crafting.

Eunha found herself engrossed in a drawing activity, sketching vibrant scenes of nature and music notes on a piece of paper. Beside her, a younger girl named Hye-jin with twinkling eyes joined in, adding her own colorful strokes to the creation.

"What's your favorite thing to draw?" Eunha asked, glancing at Hye-jin's artwork.

"I love drawing flowers and animals," Hye-jin replied with a wide smile. "What about you?"

"I enjoy drawing musical instruments and landscapes," Eunha shared, her eyes lighting up at the conversation.

Their artistic collaboration soon attracted other children, each adding their unique touch to the collective artwork. Laughter and playful banter filled the room, creating a lively atmosphere that reflected the sense of community within the orphanage.

As the evening approached, the headmistress gathered the children for a brief reflection time, encouraging them to share their thoughts and experiences from the day. Eunha spoke about her appreciation for the supportive environment and the friendships she was forming.

"I'm grateful for the chance to learn and play with all of you. Thank you for welcoming me," Eunha said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

"We're happy to have you here, Eunha!" chimed Dong-won from across the room, eliciting nods and smiles from the others.

The headmistress offered words of encouragement, acknowledging each child's contributions and efforts throughout the day. With a final warm smile, she announced the evening meal—a simple dinner of rice porridge and side dishes, a comforting end to the day's activities.

The children gathered around the table, sharing stories and laughter as they enjoyed their meal. Conversations flowed freely, weaving threads of camaraderie and shared experiences. Eunha felt a sense of belonging, grateful for the bonds she was forming with her fellow orphans.

As the evening meal came to an end, the headmistress led the children in a brief moment of gratitude, expressing thanks for the nourishment and the day's blessings. With contented hearts and sleepy eyes, the children bid each other goodnight, dispersing to their respective sleeping quarters.

Eunha settled into her bunk bed, the day's events replaying in her mind. She felt a sense of warmth and belonging, grateful for the supportive environment and the newfound friendships blooming in the orphanage. With a contented sigh, she drifted into a peaceful slumber, the comforting whispers echoing in her dreams.

The night was peaceful within the confines of the orphanage. The gentle hum of the night enveloped the sleeping quarters, the soft whispers of dreams intertwining with the occasional rustle of bedsheets.

Eunha lay in her bunk bed, her thoughts drifting between the events of the day and the new connections she had forged. The simplicity of the orphanage, the shared laughter, and the sense of belonging eased the weight she had carried from her past life as an aspiring idol.

In the quiet of the night, memories flickered before her closed eyes—a collage of moments from her previous life. The glittering lights of auditions, the grueling training sessions, and the fleeting taste of fame—all fragments of a life she had once known, now a distant echo in her subconscious.

As she navigated the realms of sleep, a sensation of peace washed over her. It was a tranquility born not of the glamorous world she had once aspired to but from the bonds of friendship and the sense of community she found in the orphanage.

The hours passed, marked by the gentle rhythm of breathing echoing through the dormitory. In the wee hours of the morning, the dreamscape embraced Eunha with its ethereal embrace, a harbinger of the unexpected journey she was yet to traverse.

In the stillness of slumber, amidst the tender whispers of fate, Eunha felt a curious sensation—an indescribable shift in the fabric of her being. Time seemed to warp and bend, as though the universe itself was conspiring to weave a new chapter in her story.

With a soft flutter, Eunha's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the gentle glow of dawn filtering through the window. As she stirred from her sleep, the realization dawned upon her—the world she now inhabited was not the one she had known before.

Blinking away the remnants of dreams, she glanced around the dormitory, recognizing the familiar rows of bunk beds occupied by other slumbering children. Yet, there was an ineffable sensation, a subtle knowing that things were somehow different.

The door creaked open, and the silhouette of the headmistress appeared in the doorway. "Good morning, children," her voice carried with it a comforting warmth that seemed both familiar and new.

Eunha watched as the headmistress gently roused the children, just as she had done the day before. The routine continued—a testament to the constancy of the orphanage life, yet tinged with an air of subtle change that eluded her understanding.

As the children began to stir and the morning rituals unfolded, Eunha realized that she was now experiencing a reality she had once left behind—a chance to rewrite her journey, to embrace the innocence of childhood once more.

The headmistress Mi-young approached her with a kind smile. "Time to wake up, dear," she said, her eyes holding a glimmer of recognition that Eunha couldn't quite decipher.