It was the second dream I'd ever had in my entire life.
But this time, it didn't feel like a dream.
It felt like a memory trying to claw its way out.
It started with the rain.
Grey. Dense. Heavy.
The kind that turned the world into a watercolor — bleeding at the edges.
The alley was narrow.
Everything smelled like wet pavement and rust.
I couldn't move.
Not yet.
Not at first.
And then I saw her.
Eighteen, maybe nineteen.
Slim. Soaked. Hair plastered to her face like a ghost drawn in ink.
She was gasping — each breath a silent war she was slowly losing.
Crimson spilled around her like someone had tried to paint the ground with secrets.
I couldn't see her face.
Couldn't read her thoughts.
But she didn't look angry.
Didn't even cry.
She just whispered — barely breathing —
"W-why...?"
Each syllable soaked in disbelief.
And my brain, ever the emotional support disaster, whispered:
"Look… if it was me, there's probably a reason. But I'm really hoping it wasn't me.
Sorry, girllll…"
Then I saw the shooter.
He was already walking away.
Tall. Broad. Draped in black.
Like the shadows had made a deal with him.
His coat flared with every step.
His grip on the pistol was precise.
Practiced. Clean.
Like he'd done this before.
But it wasn't the gun that froze me.
It was the way he walked.
The way his body moved—
Exactly like mine.
Same height.
Same build.
Same posture.
Same rhythm.
"It wasn't me," I told myself — even inside the dream.
"It shouldn't be me."
All the people in this world aren't the same.
But some people definitely… copy-paste vibes.
Twins? No.
Doppelgängers? Maybe.
Mafia boy with my exact height, walk, and tragic aura?
Just because he looked like me doesn't mean it was me.
Definitely wasn't me.
Probably.
…Right?
I mean, please.
I don't kill helpless girls.
I have taste.
I have status.
And I don't do murder in the rain — that's just cliché.
But still…
I couldn't shake the feeling.
The shooter never turned around.
Never hesitated.
Never said a word.
But I did.
I turned to look at her—
Only—
That's where it ended...
My eyes flew open.
No gunshot.
No rain.
No girl with eyes full of disbelief.
Silence....
Just.... silence.