Chapter 1: (Chasing something he don't know)
It was the twentieth time he dreamed the same scene.
Cain stood barefoot on the cold grassy floor, dew soaking into his skin. Mist curled around his legs. For a moment he listened— and then he heard it again. A soft almost angelic voice. A woman's voice.
"Excuse me… who are you!?" he shouted into the trees, his voice trembling before he even realized he was running.
He sprinted forward, pushing branches aside, leaves scraping across his arms. His breath came in short. A head of him, a woman in a long white sundress walked barefoot going deeper into the forest, her steps light, soundless, almost like she doesn't exist.
Her hair changed with every shift around her, it deepen under the shadow of passing clouds, warm brown when the wind passed through,
soft blonde whenever sunlight touched it.
Birds scattered above him while humming. The top branches shook. Cain kept running, every muscle tight with a fear and urgency he couldn't understand.
He saw a bright glow in the distace—an opening.
He pushed harder.
He stumbled into the clearing, sunlight washing over him like a sudden wave. She stood in the middle of the open space, her back still to him.
Cain swallowed, feeling his pulse thudding painfully in his neck.
"W-Wait…" he said, voice cracking. "Please… don't walk away."
He took a shaking step forward.
"What's your name?" he asked, "I've been looking for you… I don't even know why. I don't even know who you are. But every time I reach you, you disappear. Every time I try to see your face."
He took another slow step toward her.
"I've been seeing you again and again… I don't understand. Why do you keep appearing and disappearing?"
The woman began to turn.
Cain leaned forward, desperate. But as her head moved, her features blurring, shifting and fading. Her hair flickered between long and short, her hair started to change color from dark to light.
Cain's chest tightened. His hands curled helplessly.
Then the words broke out of him:
"How… how can I crave a feeling I've never tasted?" His voice shook violently. "How do I miss something I have never even touched?" He took another step, reaching out. "Why does it hurt… to not know your face? Why does my chest pains when I don't even know your name? Why do I feel like I've lost you, even though I've never met you?"
The woman lifted her hands slightly, as if trying to reach for him too—but her fingers blurred, her outline flickered.
Cain's voice cracked again, louder this time.
"Tell me something… anything. A name. A word. Let me hold even a piece of you so I don't wake up questioning again. I beg you… just let me know who you are. Please. Please don't fade this time."
The clearing grew brighter, "No—no, not again" he whispered, stepping forward quickly. "Please, just stay. Even if I don't understand why I'm so desperate and keep chasing you… stay. Even if your face is blurry… even if your name is unknown… stay with me for a moment longer."
Her lips parted like she was about to speak—
but the dream turned into blinding white.
Cain reached out blindly, trying to grasp a woman his heart ached for… someone he had never seen.
Suddenly, the alarm blasted at full volume and snapped him awake. Cain opened his eyes then squinted. It was exactly 5:00 a.m. "That weird dream again…" he muttered.
The pale morning light slipping through the thin curtains of his small apartment. He sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, letting his eyes adjust, letting his mind clear. today was his first day as a first-year college student—again.
"Today is the day, I'm still sleepy after watching that cartoon, until 1:30 a.m."
He stood up slowly and reached for his school bag on the table. As he opened it, he checked each item one by one with quiet, careful movements.
He lifted the notebooks—six pieces, all plain-colored—and stacked them neatly inside. Then he placed two ballpens, one black and one red, beside them. He slid in his ruler, his calculator, a small binder, and finally his lunch box. The box felt warm in his hands, packed with rice and a single can of meatloaf.
"Is this all I need?"
People would probably think he was poor if they saw what he carried. And honestly, he wouldn't deny it.
He was in his 20s and only now entering first-year college because he once dropped out—because he believed those stories of people online going abroad without a degree. But when he applied, they told him he needed experience… and he needed to be twenty-two.
So now, here he was—starting from nothing. New place. New people. New stress life.
After confirming everything was inside the bag, he zipped it closed and let out a soft breath.
"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Time to change."
His apartment was small and cramped, but simple enough to navigate. One bed. One chair. One table. One refrigerator. A ceiling fan hanging above the bed, turning slowly with a soft clicking sound. His shoes and few belongings were tucked in the corner. He had only moved in a week ago, but it was still bigger than the room he had back at his parents' house.
Cain walked to the small cabinet and pulled out his ironed uniform. He slipped on the white shirt carefully, smoothing the wrinkles with his palms. Then he put on his black pants and tightened his belt. The watch his brother gave him was placed gently around his wrist. He sprayed a small amount of perfume on his shirt and neck, the scent faint but clean.
"OK, i look decent, this perfume smell like chocolate it makes me crave something sweet again."
Once dressed, he grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, "I'll be back, Leona," Cain said to his body pillow in the bed. It was shaped like a hotdog, with small wings on the sides and big red eyes. He had kept it for almost twelve years, and even now, he still use it. After that he locked his apartment door.
And descend to the narrow staircase, each step echoing lightly through the building. Morning air brushed cold against his face as he stepped outside.
Cain reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to his single motor. It was slightly big, heavier than normal, and also given to him by his brother. He had never ridden one until he turned nineteen, but now it was his only way to get around.
He turned the key slowly in his hand, Then a long breath left his chest as he approached the motor.
Today was the beginning.
And he had to ride into it—whether he felt ready or not.
"I need to be early today ha... this is troublesome, I want to read the manga that I have been waiting for this month, what a nice timing."
He drove his motor slowly down the busy morning road, one hand resting lightly on the throttle, the wind brushing against his helmet, "First day of school, how nostalgic."
His eyes drifted left and right as he rode.
Students were walking toward the school—some walked half-asleep, shoulders slouched and heads drooping. One yawned and muttered, "First day… already exhausted. Can we just start next year?"
Another rubbed his eyes and groaned, "Why is the first class always at six? Whoever made this schedule is evil. He/she deserved to have diarrhea "
Others carried cheap fifty-cent coffee cups, steam rising in the chilly morning air. A boy took a sip and sighed, "Nothing wakes me up better than a bitter coffee." A girl beside him wrinkled her nose and said, "It tastes awful, but at least it's drinkable." and some… of course… walking in pairs called Couples.
The sidewalk was narrow, and a couple walked in the center, side by side, taking their time.
Their steps were slow, matching each other, blocking anyone who tried to pass.
Students behind them had no choice but to adjust their pace, forming a small line that moved only as fast as the couple allowed.
Whispers began spreading through the group:
"Faster. I'm late. It's the first day."
"Disgusting couple… die."
"What did these two eat to be this clingy?"
"Get a room, you two."
"Your breath stinks."
They continued forward without looking back, unaware that they were holding up everyone behind them. stayed crowded and slow until someone finally found space to step around them.
The boyfriend had his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, drifting so close to his girlfriend that even the wind couldn't pass between them. The girl walked with tiny steps, and every few seconds, she looked up at him with eyes that said, "Hold my hand," even if she didn't say it out loud.
And just seeing them made something stir inside him—not anger, not jealousy… just weirdly puzzled as he give a long sigh.
He steadied the motor with his left foot as he slowed down just few meters behind them.
He leaned slightly to the right, letting another rider pass. His helmet visor reflected the scene ahead: two young lovers, wrapped in their own little bubble.
And as always, the memories attacked on cue.
Friends telling him,
"Bro, this girl is single, try talking to her,"
as if love was a vending machine and he just needed the right coins.
His cousins laughing every reunion.
"Still no girlfriend? Even my classmate's little brother has one!"
His uncles and aunties joining the choir, laughing with their mouths wide open, slapping their knees like his love life was a comedy special.
He would laugh along, but inside he whispered,
"I'm trying… but I'm ugly as hell. Good for you all, you old dogs, and you brats who flirt with anyone… people who can't even cook or do anything. Who gave you the right to tease me, you useless pieces of shit!?"
"OK calm your nuts"
He shook his head, trying to focus on the couple walking side by side. Then Cain noticed it—a brown, smelly pile on the sidewalk, right in front of them.
At that moment, the mischievous little devil of his intrusive thoughts awaken.
"Go on," he whispered, squinting at the ground ahead of their feet, "Step on the dog shit. It's right there. Come on, that's both of your destiny. Don't fail me God, give me my wish."
He slowed the motor to watch more clearly, lifting his head a little to get a better angle.
He moved his right hand lightly on the brake, leaning forward in anticipation.
And then—
Left foot. Direct hit. Not even the small pieces survived. A full, glorious, destiny-approved landing.
Cain bit his lip to stop himself from laughing too loud inside the helmet, but his shoulders jumped from holding it in.
He grinned.
He whispered triumphantly, "Yes."
The people behind the couple noticed the mess. Some pinched their noses, while others laughed, clearly entertained.
"Nice one."
"Ugh, it stinks."
"Haha, jackpot!"
"Better wash your feet now, Mr. Boyfriend, hahaha."
Then suddenly Cain felt something was wrong. A rumbling sound in his belly, and seems to be urgent.
He froze for a moment, realizing he wasn't hungry—he had eaten five pieces of fried chicken with rice just last night. The answer came instantly.
"Shit… I forgot to take a shit before coming to school," he muttered, panic creeping into his voice.
He looked around. The road was crowded, packed with cars, motorcycles, and buses, all moving in one direction.
There was no way to turn back. Going home was impossible.
"I'll find a restroom later… I can hold it," he told himself, trying to stay calm.
His stomach grumbled again, louder this time, and he shifted uncomfortably on his bike, scanning the street for any possible escape.
Every step forward felt heavier, the pressure reminding him that waiting would only get harder.
He clenched his jaw and gripped the handlebars tighter. There was no choice. He just had to make it to school.
As Cain about to reach the school gate, ready to park his motor and find a restroom before entering his classroom. But before he could pass through, a group of guards in black suit started moving quickly.
One of them raised his arm and stepped forward.
"Step back. Don't cross the line," he ordered.
Another guard spoke into his radio, "Clear the entrance. Make space. Do not let anyone through."
They formed a small barrier, guiding students to the sides of the gate.
A few seconds later, a large black luxury car approached. Its tinted windows, polished body, and quiet engine made it stand out immediately.
It looked like the kind of car owned by someone with real money—a millionaire or a billionaire.
Students nearby whispered as they watched:
"What's happening?"
"Whose car is that?"
"That's look expensive… way too expensive."
"They must be seriously rich."
"Please adopt me."
"Is that a celebrity?"
"No idea, but the guards look tense."
One guard turned and shouted, "Everyone stay back. Do not get close to the vehicle."
Cain stood there with the crowd, stomach tight, trapped between the guards, the whispers, and the pressure of needing a restroom.
The vehicle door opened.
First, a maid stepped out, holding a large umbrella to shield her mistress from the sun.
Then, a foreign woman appeared, wearing a uniform similar to the female students at the university. Her skin was pale, almost porcelain-like. Her eyes were bright blue, lips painted perfectly red. Long natural eyelashes and her nose was perfectly shaped. Golden-blonde hair fell like gold over her shoulders, shimmering with every movement. For a brief moment, something flickered in Cain's mind—the woman from his dream.
The girl lifted her chin, her expression sharp, voice laced with irritation. She spoke in Russian, which Cain didn't understand, but he could see the anger and entitlement her arrogance and frustration in every gesture.
"Why must I waste my time studying overseas with these low-class people? Some of them may have money, yes, but they are nothing compared to my family. Why am I being punished by being sent to this second-rate school? I could have spent twenty million from Papa's account on jewelry at an auction! Twenty million! And now I am forced to sit here, surrounded by people who are… beneath me! This is unacceptable! Completely unacceptable!"
The maid stepped closer, bowing slightly, her voice calm but firm. "Calm down, Madam. Please."
The girl waved her hand dismissively, eyes narrowing, lips curling in disdain. "Calm down? Do you really expect me to calm down? I am being treated like… like a commoner! I, who could have anything, who could own entire wings of this school if I wanted, reduced to… this? Sitting with these peasants, listening to their insignificant chatter, pretending I am equal to them? Impossible!"
She paused, tapping her fingers lightly on her bag.
"Do you know how humiliating this is? I am above this. I deserve better. I demand better! I am used to the finest of everything—houses, jewels, servants. And now? I am… forced to study with people who can barely afford lunch. Truly, this is… intolerable!"
The maid shifted the umbrella slightly, trying to calm her mistress again.
"Madam, your father wishes you to attend. Try to be patient, just for a while."
The girl groaned, rolling her eyes, a delicate hand brushing her hair back.
"Patient? How can I be patient when my life is being squandered here? My time, my dignity, everything—wasted on this… this farce!"
She lifted her chin, glaring around, daring anyone to challenge her.
"Tell me, do any of you understand what it means to live in real luxury? To have the world at your feet and then be forced into this… ordinary, mediocre place? I will never forgive this. Never!"
"Why should I waste my time studying overseas with these low-class people? There are decent students here with money, yes, but they are nothing compared to my family. Do you know how unfair this is? I just spent twenty million from Papa's account on jewelry at an auction! Twenty million! And now I have to sit in this second-rate school, rubbing shoulders with people who are… beneath me! Why am I being punished like this?"
The maid stepped closer, voice calm but firm.
"Calm down, Madam. Please. It's not worth it."
The girl waved her hand dismissively, lips curling in disdain. "Calm down? Calm down? Do you think I can calm down when I'm forced into this ridiculous place? This school is a joke. A complete joke. I deserve better. I am better. And yet here I am, stuck with… with… peasants. You have no idea how humiliating this is!"
She paused, huffing, her eyes flashing as she glanced around, expecting everyone to notice her outrage. "Do you even realize how many people would kill to live my life? And yet here I am, punished, forced to learn alongside them. I… I can't even…"
The maid adjusted the umbrella over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "Please, Madam, your father wants you to attend. Try to behave—just for a while."
The girl groaned, rolling her eyes, stamping one foot lightly, as if the world itself had personally wronged her. "I will never understand why Papa made me come here. Never. It's insulting. Insulting!"
Students around Cain slowed or stopped, watching the scene unfold. Some were still riding in their cars and bus. drivers waiting patiently as their passengers leaned out the windows.
Others had stepped out entirely, walking toward their vehicles just to get a better look.
Whispers and murmurs spread quickly through the crowd:
"Wow… she's so pretty."
"Is she a second-year? That uniform looks exactly like my sister's."
"She's speaking Russian… she must be a foreigner."
"Please… step on me!"
In Cain's mind, panic bubbled up.
"This is troublesome not only I can't understand what they saying, they also really taking their time blocking the gate. How long is this going to take? I just want to take a shit. I don't have any time left before I actually shit my pants."