Chapter Text
The gentle summer breeze teased at the edges of Kang Ji-Hye’s purple-dyed hair as she lounged on a bench in the park. Her headphones blasted a symphony of melancholic rock, drowning out the faint hum of the city beyond the trees. With her heavily pierced ears, the intricate black ink of her tattoos snaking up her arms, and her combat boots that had seen better days, Ji-Hye exuded a presence that often made others cross the street. But here, in this moment, she was content. For once, no one stared or whispered. It was just her, her music, and the warm breeze.
She opened her eyes briefly to glance at the sky, its pale blue hue dotted with streaks of white clouds. That’s when she noticed them—a lively group of children spilling out onto the playground nearby, their laughter piercing through her music. They were accompanied by two women, their caretakers, who smiled warmly while supervising the chaos. Ji-Hye’s lips curled into a faint smile despite herself. She always found children's unrestrained joy endearing, a stark contrast to her own lonely adolescence.
A small boy with messy hair and a gap-toothed smile caught her eye and waved enthusiastically. Ji-Hye hesitated for a moment before waving back, her hand moving almost shyly. The boy’s grin simply widened, then he ran back to his friends.
For a while, she just watched them, allowing their infectious energy to seep into her. It was rare for her to feel connected to anyone, even strangers like these children. She leaned back, adjusting her headphones to let the sound of their laughter mingle with her music.
That’s when it happened.
The ground beneath the playground cracked with an ominous rumble. Ji-Hye bolted upright, pulling her headphones off as the air seemed to grow heavy. A dark void began to form, swallowing the vibrant colors of the playground and the children with it. Screams echoed as some of the children and one of the caretakers disappeared into the gaping maw of a swirling, magical Gate.
A Gate. Here. Of all places.
I’ve never heard of a Gate opening in the ground before!!!
Ji-Hye’s breath caught in her throat. Gates had been appearing all over the world for as long as she could remember. They were pretty much part of the every-day life. She often passed in front of one whenever she went out, since she lived in a “high-density area” – the rent was cheaper since it was such a high-risk zone. And of course, she’d grown up with the horrors the Gates brought forth into reality – the teams that were tragically wiped out, the bodies never recovered, the rare but destructive Dungeon Breaks… Never had she witnessed one opening, however – and never had she heard something so bone-chilling, the screams of the children ringing in her ears.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, but the sound of crying pulled her focus. Three children, the ones who had been further from the epicenter, were clutching the remaining caretaker’s legs, wailing in terror. The woman stood frozen, her face pale and her hands trembling as she stared at the Gate, obviously at a loss as to what to do.
“Hey!” Ji-Hye shouted, pushing herself off the bench. She sprinted toward the scene, her boots pounding against the grass. “Get a grip!”
The caretaker’s wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto Ji-Hye as she approached. She tried to speak but only managed a strangled sob. Ji-Hye didn’t have time for hesitation. She grabbed the woman by the shoulders and shook her.
“Snap out of it!” she barked. When that didn’t work, she slapped the woman’s cheek—not hard, but enough to break the spiral of panic. “You need to take these kids and get out of here. Now!”
The caretaker blinked rapidly, as if waking from a nightmare. “B-but the others…!”
“They’re gone,” Ji-Hye said, her voice firm but not unkind. “You can’t help them, not directly. Take these three somewhere safe and call for help. Can you do that? Hunters will be able to help, but you need to call for them.”
The woman nodded shakily, gathering the sobbing children and ushering them away, casting one last, horrified glance at the Gate. Ji-Hye watched them go, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the oppressive energy radiating from the Gate, like an open wound in the fabric of the world.
She should leave too. She wasn’t a Hunter, she didn’t have any combat experience, and she certainly wasn’t equipped to deal with whatever lay on the other side of that Gate. In fact, it was downright illegal for a civilian to voluntarily enter an opened Gate.
But the image of the children being swallowed by the void refused to leave her mind.
Her fists clenched. She’d spent her entire, short life being ignored, overlooked, and pushed aside, being told she wasn’t important enough, wasn’t good enough, wasn’t worth enough. She grew up being taught that she would never amount to anything, that she should just stick to the sidelines and leave others more capable to handle the problems.
But this? This, she couldn’t ignore.
If there was even a chance that she could help, then she had to try.
“Stupid,” she muttered to herself, pulling off her heavy jacket and dropping it on the ground. Beneath it, her black hoodie clung to her wiry frame. She adjusted her fingerless gloves and took a deep breath, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “So, so stupid…!”
She walked toward the Gate. Its swirling blue and white, almost electrical appearance, seemed to pull at her, whispering promises of danger and death. Her boots skidded slightly on the ground that had frozen near the edge. She peered into the swirling abyss. A shiver ran down her spine, but she didn’t stop.
For the first time in her life, she felt… alive. Terrified, yes, but alive.
This was her choice. And if her life didn’t mean anything then, hopefully, her death would.
With one final, steadying breath, Kang Ji-Hye jumped into the Gate.