The day started simple, ordinary—just like any other. Jinu was nothing special; a typical high school student from a perfectly normal, loving family.
But that normalcy was a facade. Now, he was a ghost. He was dead—killed in a car accident. The lingering shock was a cold, empty feeling; a new, permanent state.
The problem was simple: he couldn't interact with the world around him. He wasn't even shocked. His new world was a void, empty and still. I'm nothing special after all, he thought, the lack of surprise almost more frightening than the death itself.
He looked to the side. There, twisted on the pavement, was his own lifeless body. Time seemed to crawl. "Huh. I've died," he muttered, the words empty of all emotion. Is this how my story ends?
No. If I'm still here, that means there's some kind of attachment.Is this the classic unfinished business? Or is it just the lingering effects of grief?
Wait a minute. The car crash... Mom and Dad were here. His thought process broke as he turned, stammering, "Mom... Dad!"
He saw his mother nearby, pinned in the wreckage. Life was approaching her—a slow, terrible shadow. He rushed toward her, trying desperately to touch her, his hands passing uselessly through the wreckage.
"Mom, wake up! Mom!" Sadness, sharp and sickening, finally pierced his cold shock. He shouted, even though he knew no one could hear his voice. Where was his father?
He frantically shouted for help, trying to cradle his dying mother in his arms. "Mom, wake up! Mom, I said wake up!" The raw anger and grief in his voice were deafening to him, yet silent to the world.
Then, as if she had heard, his mother suddenly broke into a fit of violent coughing.
Paramedics arrived, along with cops and ambulances. Jinu immediately began searching, frantically peering through the growing crowd for his father. Though he didn't want to leave his mother's side, he found no sign of his dad.
As the paramedics used specialized tools to remove his mother from the wreckage, everything became a blur. The next clear memory Jinu had was staring at her inert body in a hospital bed.
For endless seconds, he stared at her. Did I cause the cough? Was that a sign of life, or just a random spasm? The seconds bled into hours, and the hours bled into days. A few days later, she still showed no sign of waking up.
Jinu overheard the doctors discussing an upcoming operation. Needing fresh air—or perhaps just a distraction—he left the room and began moving through the hospital. He was walking through doors and peering into rooms, looking for his father. He searched for hours, but no matter how long he looked, there was no sign of him.
[SCENE SHIFT: CENTRAL ACADEMY]
Jinu's vigil was broken. He was no longer in the hospital, but drawn inexplicably back to the places he used to know. The scene shifted: Central Academy, Class 10-A, the Elite Class.
The teacher, Hirayo Hakomoto, stood before the students. "As you know, class, last week was a tragic week. We lost one of our own, Jinu Oraya," the teacher said. "Therefore, all students are required to pay ten credits to help with the funeral. It's the least we can all contribute."