“Excuse me,” Han Yeoreum said with a smile.  “Could you direct me to the section with books on the Joseon Dynasty?”

            “Sure, Yeoreum.  It’s in the back corner.”

            Yeoreum smiled again.  “Thank you, Mrs. Lee.”

            “Of course.  Another research project for Mr. Kim?”

            “Not this time.  The entrance exams are coming up, and I have to review Korean history.”

            “Okay, good luck.”

            “Thank you!”  She adjusted her backpack straps and walked to the back of the library, slowing down as she passed multiple shelves of books, lined up from floor to ceiling.  Yeoreum saw the high school library as her third home--the first being her real home and the second being her cram school in Gangnam--and smiled in content as she ran her fingers along the various book spines.

            The Joseon Dynasty section of the library was empty, and Yeoreum placed her backpack down on one of the empty tables.  She crouched in front of the books, selecting a few to study.  A soft thud, magnified by the silence of the library, sounded as she stood up.  Confused, Yeoreum crouched down, picking up a book of what seemed to be diary entries.

            What’s this doing here?  She walked back to her backpack.  As she flipped open the pages, she was surprised to see a sheet of paper fall out from between the pages onto the table.  A letter?

            “Yeoreum, are you finding everything okay?”

            Startled, Yeoreum stuffed the letter into her backpack and turned toward the librarian, Mrs. Lee.  “Yes, I am.”

            “If you need anything, let me know.”

            “Actually,” Yeoreum said, “I found this book between some of the history books.  Do you know where I should put it back?”

            “Hm,” Mrs. Lee frowned, examining the book.  “This doesn’t look like any of our library’s books.”

            “Eh?”

            “I’ll hold onto this,” Mrs. Lee said.  “Maybe someone left it here by accident.  I’ll leave you to your studies.”

            “Hm.” Yeoreum frowned as Mrs. Lee walked away.  But as she opened the history books and began to skim the words, thoughts of the odd book left her mind and were replaced by images of the Joseon dynasty.

            She hadn’t realized she still had the letter from the book until she got home.

<:>

            Min Yoongi stared blankly at the note his mother had left him on the table.  “Don’t know when I’m coming back.  Use this for dinner.  If I’m not back by tomorrow morning, good luck at your new school,” he mumbled.  Scoffing, he held up the 1000 won bill his mother had left him.  The hell am I supposed to buy with this?  

            He walked back to his room, crumpling up the note and throwing it into his trash can.  Yoongi rolled into bed, glancing once at his new uniform, which was hanging on the wall.  The uniform, which had costed his mother at least two paychecks to even afford, seemed to mock him--he was just a poor boy in rich man’s clothing.

            Staring at the ceiling, he sighed.  Five pills, maybe twenty to forty minutes, blurry vision, shallow breathing, possible vomiting.  The neighbors might hear me if I start to vomit.  They might try to see what’s wrong, and find me, and save me.  Do I want to be saved?  Closing his eyes, he shook his head.

            It was well after midnight when Yoongi finally managed to fall asleep.

<:>

            “, I forgot to put this back in the book.” Yeoreum sighed, resting her head in her hand, the letter in her left hand.  “I’ll just give it to Mrs. Lee tomorrow.”  Placing the letter on her desk, she briefly caught a glimpse of one of the words written in the letter: “save”.  Curiosity piqued, Yeoreum opened it.

December 31, 2033

To whoever gets this message,

     My name is Kim Namjoon, and I am writing to you from a future in which humans have discovered and researched the possibility of multiple universes existing.  Big companies are now allowing civilians to send letters to different universes, though it costs a fortune, and I jumped at the chance.  Many believe that this is a scam, but I’ll take my chances.  Hopefully, this letter reaches its intended destination.

Many years ago, I used to be a student at this high school, and I was probably one of the most popular guys in Class 3-C.  But that’s getting off-topic.  I am writing to ask you a favor.

     See, a good kid from my high school days, Min Yoongi, died twenty-three years ago as of today.  He decided to end his own life on New Years Eve, alone in his apartment.  He was mad at the world, but after reading through some of his last diary entries, I couldn’t blame him.  Although he was rough on the outside, he had a good heart.  I was never able to become his friend until it was too late.  If only I had gotten to know him sooner, I might’ve been able to save him myself.

     So here I am, twenty-three years later, writing to you from the future.  In my world, Yoongi does not exist anymore.  However, I believe that there is a universe similar to my own out there, a universe in which Yoongi is still alive, healthy, and happy.  So if it’s true that there is a world like this, then I only have one request.

     Please save Yoongi.

Sincerely,

Namjoon

P.S. I’ve attached some important dates to the back of this letter.

            What the hell?  Is this some kind of joke?  She flipped over the letter and read the first date listed on the back.

September 30, 2009

Today, Min Yoongi transfers into Class 3-C.  He doesn’t leave his seat the entire day, not even for lunch.  Everyone is too scared to talk to him.  Please talk to him.

            “September 30?” She checked her calendar.  “But that’s tomorrow…”  Flipping over the letter again, she scanned the neat writing for a second, a third, and a fourth time.  No matter how many times she read the text, it still failed to make sense.  What is all of this stuff about multiple universes?  

            “Yeoreum-ah, are you studying?” someone knocked on the door.

            She quickly put the letter back into her backpack, taking out a history book and opening it to a random page as her mother walked in.  “Yes.”

           Mrs. Han smiled, delighted to see her daughter so focused on her schoolwork.  “Study hard so that you can do well on the entrance exams and get into a good university.  Then you can get a good job and live a good life.”

           “Yes, Mom.”

           “Do you want a snack?  I know it’s late, but--”

           “I’m fine, Mom.”

           “Okay.  I’ll leave you to your studying, then.  Don’t stay up too late.”

           “Yes, Mom.”

           Yeoreum glanced at her backpack once before shaking her head.  Nonsense.  There’s no way that letter could be real.  

           That night, she dreamt of the Joseon dynasty.