—St. Lucas Hospital, Special Treatment Room, year 2012—

I woke up the next morning with sounds of whisperings surrounding me.

This time, I woke up knowing that it was not a part of my dream. I opened my eyes and saw my parents, sitting across the room while speaking to some doctors and nurses, worried looks on their faces which saddened me. A part of me wished that I could tell them more about what was happening, but another part told me to keep everything to myself and wait.

I stayed silent, watching them conversing while I lied still on my bed. Everyone was completely unaware that I was awakened, making me wonder about what they may be talking about.

I tried my best to focus so I could somehow hear their conversation, but the hushed words were clogged by the ringing sound that came from inside of my head. After a few minutes of trying to fight it, I released a sigh out of frustration, leaning my head back onto my pillow. The sound I was making and my movements finally caught their attention.

My parents turned to look at me, immediately leaving their seats to walk over to the bed.

"Oh, you're awake."

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

Both of them spoke at the same time, completely rushed and nervous, yet they forced themselves to smile cheerfully as they did so.

"I'm okay," I answered them through a whisper. I looked up at my father, studying his feature. I found no wrinkles, no grey hair, not even his tired eyes looking as pale as how I remembered them to be. "What's wrong, Dad? What are you guys talking about?"

For a moment, I saw hesitation gleaming on both of my parents' faces as they silently exchanged looks with each other. Just when I was about to question them about it, my father looked over at the young doctor that had moved to stand at his side.

"This is the doctor that has been taking care of you, we—um, we were talking about your condition," my father said, glancing at the doctor as he spoke, which the kind doctor replied with a nod and a knowing smile.

"Hello, ______. We've been waiting for you to wake up," the doctor said to me patiently. His calm voice couldn't even hide the eagerness lying within, and it was clear that he was hiding something. Something else behind the courteous smile and those attentive eyes of his.

"You see, we had done some tests to figure out what was causing you to collapse the other day, and also why you have been losing consciousness a number of times during the last few days you have been treated under our care. But there are some tests that could not be done when you were unconscious."

"Oh, okay," I hesitantly answered him. I had just been awakened and my mind was having trouble to process any of his words. But things were starting to clear out as he continued to explain,

"So we are going to do some more tests starting today, if we feel that your body would be strong enough to go through them. But we need your consent for it. What do you say?"

"Oh, uhm— Okay, I guess?"

He nodded, giving some signals at the younger nurse and doctors that was with him, before they all left the room. The doctor stayed behind to speak to my parents, informing them of the procedures which I had to go through next, and all of the administration process my parents had to finish before they could start them.

I watched them spoke with each other for a few more minutes, letting one of the nurses who stayed behind to check on my body temperature and my pulse. Right before the doctor left the room, he leaned forward to take a look at my face with a curious look in his eyes.

"So you have also been having headaches, haven't you? Do you remember anything that might have caused it? Something that might have happened before, or something that you digested at night, perhaps? Did you hurt yourself within two or three days before you felt the pain?"

I pursed my lips, not saying anything. Glimpses of images appearing in my head, everything that happened before I woke up back in my old bedroom, before my thoughts came empty and void of other memories.

"I'm sorry, doctor. I can't really remember. I only remember waking up with an extreme headache and then I woke up in this hospital. I can't think of anything that happened before that."

No, I can't tell him that I fell. Not when I cannot tell him where I was falling from, what kind of fall it was, and how I found myself on my bed, out of many places.

The doctor merely smiled at me. "That's alright. I'm sure these tests would help show us if there is something that we need to be concerned about."

I silently doubted it. But I couldn't say anything. Not without people thinking I was crazy.

I was reluctant to go through those procedures he mentioned before, wanting nothing more than to return home and solve everything myself. After all, what could those health check show regarding to what I've gone through? What could they be saying about where I actually came from?

How much would they answer my question?

"Hey, I'm back."

My parents had left me alone when Taehyung came back later in the afternoon, which was just the perfect timing for him to return, because I already had some thoughts I was going to share to him and I could not possibly wait any longer. I was lost in deep thought when he came into the room, but the sound of his voice and his cheerful face soon made me feel more at ease.

I tried to sit up, groaning at the soreness I felt on my back which I got from lying down on the bed for too long. Each movement that I made caused my head to throb in pain that I had to stop myself from moving too much.

"Don't force yourself, will you? It's not like you are fit enough to run a marathon already." He rushed to my side, holding both sides of my shoulders firmly to hold me back before he finally gave up and helped me to sit.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at him being overly concerned. "I have to force my body to get stronger, to be able to control my strength. I'm tired of getting in and out consciousness too easily. I feel so—frail."

Taehyung sighed. "I understand. But what if it gets you weaker? Or what if you hurt yourself? You look as if your energy is drained just by breathing."

"I'm fine," I scowled at him, quickly sending him a regretful smile when I realised that perhaps I was getting too far. "Thank you for worrying about me. I'm sorry. I just—Can you help me and find out how long I'm supposed to stay here? I just want to go home."

He kept his gaze on me without saying anything else, and I knew that the wheels in his head were turning. I felt as if he was hiding something from me, but I pushed the thoughts away, especially since he was the only one who held my secrets. "I haven't really heard anything, but just be patient for a while, okay? You know they're not going to let you leave this hospital unless they find out what's wrong with you."

"Well, are you sure they haven't found anything?" I bit my lips, leaning back on my pillows as I whispered. "Trust me, I also want to know what's wrong with me, but I don't think wasting my time lying on this bed will solve anything. Or to have their needles poking on me."

"You don't know that," he suddenly cut me off. I raised my eyes to look at him and he looked away sheepishly, startled at his own accidental remarks. "Anyway," he cleared his throat, trying his best to change the topic of our conversation.

"Have you made other progress, other than controlling your strength? You know—with your, um—" he started making circular movements with his hand around his head, "—memories?"

"Memories—" I echoed his words absentmindedly. "Right now, I'm actually starting to think that maybe I was wrong. What if they were only dreams of mine? Or, everything was only in my head, just an imagination that came so close to being real that I actually believed it?"

"What makes you think of that, all of a sudden?"

"I don't know, Tae." I groaned, completely deflated and frustrated at the same time. "It's just that each time an image of what might have happened in my life appears in my head, they are pretty random and too vague. Some felt real, and some felt like a dream, and whenever I try to remember more, my headache keeps blocking them away. And besides—" I stared into his eyes as I continued, "If I did time travel, or time leap—as you called it, doesn't that mean that I am, uh—I mean, am I not supposed to be old?"

He blinked, pursing his lips as he tried to process my words. "Now that you mentioned it—" he wondered loudly, rubbing his chin. "Yeah, I guess you should be. But is it possible that your mind was the only thing that moved back in time? Or perhaps your soul?"

"Soul?" I chuckled. "What 90's TV series have you been watching, you nerd?"

"Well, judging from the way you speak and your reaction we both know this is you, the present you," he pointed out to me with wide eyes, all of a sudden seemingly excited and confused at the same time. "There has to be an explanation, as strange as they may be. The fact that you have experienced growing old and then come back to your teenage body itself is already unbelievable."

I let out a deep sigh, acknowledging his words, finally accepting the fact that if I really wanted to figure things out then I have to accept whatever strange events I was having. "Okay, then we both have to see things with open mind, I guess, huh?"

He nodded, still pursing his lips. "Yes, we do," he said. "Putting that aside, anything new in your memory that we could list out? Anything you'd like to share?"

"Umm—maybe. I remembered a few more things, and also had a dream about it. I still don't know how to tell the difference between the true memories and the false one yet though," I warned him, but he was already busy preparing his tools, once again opening his notebook and placing his recorder—yes, he had bought a recording device especially for this—before nodding his head as a sign for me to carry on.

"Whatever it is that you see in your head, may they be dreams, imaginations, or things you actually remember, just tell me everything. I'm not going anywhere until we solve this."