Kang Ji-hoon opened his eyes.
6:57 AM.
Three minutes before the alarm.
Again.
He lay still, staring at the ceiling.
Same routine. Same time.
His body always beat the alarm by a few minutes.
Like it was trained.
But something felt wrong.
He was awake—
yet it didn't feel like he'd slept.
His limbs were sore.
Neck stiff.
Head pounding.
It wasn't tiredness.
It was something else.
A sense of being watched.
Of having already lived this moment.
The alarm beeped. 7:00 AM.
He silenced it without looking.
No missed calls.
No messages.
He hadn't spoken to anyone in two days.
Just food delivery and OTT.
Human contact was optional now.
He dragged himself into the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face.
Then froze.
The mirror.
He was looking straight into it.
And for a moment—
his reflection blinked
before he did.
Only half a second.
But enough.
He backed away.
Hard.
'Did that just… happen?'
Same tired face.
Same unshaved chin.
Same dark eyes.
But something was off.
He could feel it.
He shook his head, went to the kitchen.
Coffee.
Microwave hum.
Anything to shake it off.
He couldn't remember falling asleep last night.
He tried to.
The last thing he recalled was some drama whispering:
"It's not your fault."
When did he doze off? 9PM?
Why did he feel like he never had?
He walked to the window.
Foggy glass.
Muted traffic sounds.
Normal.
But it didn't feel normal.
Like someone else had walked through this room
while he was gone.
Then he saw it.
A napkin.
On the floor.
It hadn't been there before.
He would've noticed.
He picked it up.
A few words, scribbled in pencil:
"You were here yesterday."
His breath caught in his throat.
He flipped it over.
"You are already too late."
And beneath that—
"Go back."
It was his handwriting.
But he had no memory of writing it.
His phone buzzed.
Team Leader.
"Ji-hoon. What did you say yesterday?"
"What?"
"The client's furious. You promised we'd remake the whole presentation."
"…I wasn't there."
"What? You led the meeting."
Ji-hoon froze.
He remembered lying on his couch all day.
Blanket. OTT. Pizza.
Not… work.
The call ended.
He was shaking.
He stumbled into the elevator.
Mirrored walls.
And then—
his reflection smiled.
But he didn't.
The elevator beeped.
Doors opened.
His heart raced.
Had his reflection… moved first?
→ [To be continued in Episode 2]
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