A Boy Who Shouldn’t Exist / Fragments of a Broken World

Chapter 0: Prologue

The world had always felt… distant to Ji-Ho.

Born in South Korea, abandoned before he could even speak, and then adopted into an Indian family who eventually left him too—his life had been a series of hellos that quickly turned into goodbyes. At thirteen years old, he carried a weight far older than his age. His classmates saw him as a background character: the fat kid with soft features, eyes that always looked away first, and a heart too kind to defend itself.

He wasn’t dangerous. He wasn’t special. He wasn’t anyone.

He was just Ji-Ho.

Morning in Silence

The alarm clock buzzed at 6:30 a.m., the sound echoing in his small rented room. It wasn’t really his—just a space provided by the landlord who looked at him like a burden that paid too little to be worth it.

Ji-Ho rubbed his eyes, stomach aching with the hollow reminder that last night’s dinner never came. He tied his shoelaces, checked his pocket for the crumpled bills from yesterday’s garbage-cleaning shift, and sighed.

“Enough for bus fare… not for breakfast.”

He forced a smile. He always did. Maybe if he smiled enough, the world would start smiling back. Spoiler: it never did.

The streets of India buzzed with life. Vendors shouted, children ran with schoolbags twice their size, and the smell of fried samosas filled the air. For everyone else, it was just another day. For Ji-Ho, it was another day to survive.

The School That Never Noticed

His school was an old, fading building with cracked paint and buzzing tube lights. To most students, it was a second home. To Ji-Ho, it was just another battlefield where his kindness made him the easiest target.

“Hey fatty, move it!” a voice jeered as someone shoved him in the hallway. Laughter followed.

Ji-Ho stumbled, nearly dropping his books, but he just muttered, “S-sorry,” and kept walking. He never fought back. Fighting back only made the pain worse.

He sat at his desk near the back of the class, next to the only person who had ever called him a friend—Arjun. A boy with an easy smile, sharp eyes, and the kind of charm Ji-Ho wished he had.

Arjun leaned over. “Yo, Ji-Ho. Did you finish yesterday’s math homework?”

Ji-Ho nodded and handed over his notebook without hesitation. “Here… just don’t get caught, okay?”

Arjun grinned. “Relax, man. You’re a lifesaver.”

Ji-Ho smiled faintly, heart warmed. Maybe this was friendship. Maybe this was proof that he wasn’t completely alone.

But by lunch, the warmth turned to ash.

“Bro, you actually did his homework?” one of Arjun’s friends laughed, slapping his back. “No wonder he keeps you around. You’re just his little servant.”

Arjun smirked, not denying it. “Hey, someone’s gotta do the boring stuff.”

Ji-Ho froze, tray of food trembling in his hands. The words sank deeper than any punch. He had believed… again. Believed in someone who only saw him as convenient.

He set his tray down quietly, appetite gone. He didn’t speak the rest of the day.

Betrayal and Silence

By evening, Ji-Ho returned to his room, every step heavier than the last. His friend wasn’t a friend. His classmates didn’t care if he existed. His so-called parents had left him to fend for himself years ago.

He sat on the bed, staring at the dim ceiling fan.

“…Why am I still here?” he whispered.

The room answered with silence.

For hours, he wrestled with the thought. He thought about his future—empty. He thought about his past—abandoned. And his present—miserable.

No one would cry if he disappeared. No one would even notice.

His decision felt both terrifying and freeing.

The Tracks

It was 10:45 p.m. when Ji-Ho walked to the railway crossing. The night was quiet, except for the crickets and the faint rumble of a train approaching in the distance.

He stood there, trembling. His heart screamed for him to turn back, but his mind… his mind whispered that it was the only escape left.

The lights of the train grew closer, the horn blaring like the roar of fate itself.

Ji-Ho stepped forward onto the tracks.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, but his lips curled into a broken smile. “Finally… no more pain.”

The train surged toward him—blinding, unstoppable.

And then… reality shattered.

The Awakening

The moment the train should’ve hit him, his body convulsed. Not from pain, but from something else entirely.

The metal of the train glitched, its shape fragmenting into glowing squares of static. Sparks of violet energy erupted around him, distorting the air like broken glass.

The horn of the train warped into a distorted scream. The massive machine blurred, twisted… and then erased. Vanished into nothing but fragments of light.

Ji-Ho stood trembling in the center of the tracks, eyes wide. His skin pulsed with faint symbols that faded as quickly as they appeared, like whispers from another dimension.

He gasped for air, collapsing to his knees. His body felt heavy, yet light—like he existed in two worlds at once.

“What… what’s happening to me…?”

The night sky flickered above him, stars bending unnaturally. The ground beneath him rippled like liquid for a brief second. He clutched his chest, feeling a pressure inside him—something dormant that had just been awakened.

And then, silence. The world reset. The train was gone. The tracks were empty.

Ji-Ho sat alone, panting, surrounded by a void-like stillness.

The Watchers

Far away, in places unseen by ordinary eyes, something stirred.

A ripple traveled through dimensions, felt by those who hunted such anomalies. Cloaked figures stared at monitors filled with glitching static, tracking the impossible spike of energy.

“Another one…? No, this is different,” a voice muttered. “The signature is unstable… it’s not alien, it’s…”

The feed glitched violently, cutting out.

Ji-Ho’s awakening hadn’t gone unnoticed.

End of Prologue

Ji-Ho stood shakily, staring at his trembling hands. He had wanted to disappear. Instead, he had erased the train.

His lips quivered as he whispered the only words that came to mind:

“…Who am I?”

The night didn’t answer. But something else did—an unseen future, pulling him deeper into the Void Drift.