The Strange Man.

The next morning greeted me with a rare sliver of sunlight piercing through my blinds. Despite the promising weather, my mood was anything but bright. Yesterday's encounter with Mirae had left me spiraling with questions—and a faint sense of guilt. She'd caught me snooping in her notebook, and I had nothing to show for it but blank pages and a cryptic app taunting me with vague promises of answers.

"Today will be different," I muttered to myself, though the words felt hollow.

---

At school, the usual chaos filled the hallways: students chattering, lockers slamming, someone yelling about a pop quiz. I walked into class to find Mirae already seated, as composed as ever. Her notebook sat on her desk, its cover as unassuming as it had been yesterday. She glanced up as I approached but quickly returned to her book, giving me no chance to speak.

Seulgi noticed me lingering by my desk and smirked. "Morning, notebook thief. Planning another daring heist today?"

"Not funny," I muttered, slumping into my seat.

"Come on, Jiho," she said, nudging me with her elbow. "If you keep up this level of awkwardness, she'll think you're a professional stalker. Just talk to her like a normal person."

"Yeah, because that worked so well yesterday," I shot back.

Seulgi leaned closer, lowering her voice. "What did you even find in her notebook? Anything juicy?"

I hesitated. "It was… empty."

She blinked. "Empty? That's weird. Are you sure?"

"Positive. It's like she carries it around just to mess with people."

Seulgi frowned, a rare moment of seriousness crossing her face. "Maybe it's not meant for people like us to understand."

"People like us?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You know, normal people," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "She's clearly on another level of mysterious. But hey, if you're really that curious, maybe the app will help."

The app. The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

---

By lunchtime, I found myself in the courtyard again, determined to try one more time. Mirae sat under the same tree, her notebook open on her lap. She didn't look up as I approached.

"Hi," I said, my voice steady but unsure.

"Hi," she replied without glancing up.

I hesitated. "About yesterday… I didn't mean to pry."

"You didn't mean to, but you did," she said calmly, turning a page.

I sighed. "Look, I know it's none of my business, but… why do you carry that notebook if it's blank?"

She finally looked at me, her dark eyes unreadable. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," I said, more earnestly than I intended.

For a moment, she seemed to consider it. But then she shook her head. "It's better if you don't know."

Frustration bubbled inside me, but before I could say anything else, she stood up, clutching the notebook tightly.

"Let it go, Jiho," she said softly, before walking away.

---

That evening, I lay on my bed, staring at my phone. The Fate Rewrite app hadn't buzzed since yesterday, but I couldn't stop thinking about its cryptic message—or the strange image it had shown me.

"Unravel the mystery," I muttered, opening the app again.

The interface was simple, almost too simple: a pulsing circle labeled Progress: 5%, with options for "Reveal Clue" or "Initiate Contact."

I tapped "Reveal Clue," and the screen flickered before displaying another fragment of Mirae's notebook. This time, the text was more legible:

"The threads of fate cannot be cut, only rewoven."

"What the hell does that mean?" I muttered.

The app didn't respond, of course. But as I stared at the cryptic text, I felt a strange pull—like the words were speaking to something deep inside me.

---

The next day at school, Mirae's desk was conspicuously empty. She hadn't shown up for morning homeroom, and by lunch, whispers were flying around the hallways.

"Do you think she's sick?" Seulgi asked, poking at her tray of cafeteria food.

"I don't know," I said, my stomach twisting uncomfortably.

"Maybe she's avoiding you," Seulgi teased, though her tone was less playful than usual.

Ignoring her, I pulled out my phone and opened the app again.

This time, the message was different:

"She's closer than you think. Find the next thread."

I frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

As the day dragged on, I found myself wandering through the school after classes ended. Something about the app's message wouldn't let me sit still.

Eventually, my aimless searching brought me to the library. It was quiet, the faint smell of old books filling the air. And there, tucked away in a corner, was Mirae.

She was hunched over a table, her notebook open in front of her. But this time, she wasn't alone.

A man in a dark suit sat across from her, speaking in low tones. His presence felt out of place, like he didn't belong in the mundane setting of a high school library.

I ducked behind a bookshelf, straining to hear their conversation.

"...must be careful," the man was saying. "They're watching you."

"I know," Mirae replied, her voice barely audible. "But I don't have much time."

"You can't afford mistakes," he said sharply. "If he gets too close—"

"It's not his fault," she interrupted, her tone defensive.

The man sighed. "You're playing with fire, Mirae. Don't forget what's at stake."

Before I could process what I was hearing, Mirae closed her notebook and stood up. The man did the same, his movements brisk and purposeful.

I ducked farther behind the shelf as they passed, my heart pounding.

What the hell had I just stumbled into?

And how was I supposed to ignore it now?

After some time had passed, I finally got out of that weird position I was still standing in and let out a sigh as I thought about what had happened.

"Is he blackmailing her or something? Should I report it to the police?" I thought, creeped out at the man's appearance. But I shouldn't get too involved in their space, what if it's not all that deep as it appears.