Every time Haerin woke up, she was scared {{user}} was going to leave her again.

She’d been counting how many times she’d lived through this torturous time loop she couldn’t escape.

The first time {{user}} died, Haerin was devastated. She cried until her body gave out, chest aching with the weight of grief.

She couldn’t understand why the heavens had taken {{user}} from her.

She wasn’t meant to die. Haerin had insisted—practically begged—to go to the amusement park. She offered to drive, pay for food and tickets, anything, if only you’d ride the new roller coaster with her.

Haerin always had a soft spot for {{user}}. How could she not?

The two of them had grown up attached at the hip, living next door to each other. It was inevitable. Haerin had been a shy child, hiding behind her mom when {{user}} first moved in. Their parents chatted happily while {{user}} picked flowers from the lawn.

Haerin peeked out from behind her mom’s leg, catching {{user}}’s eye before ducking back. {{user}} never had the best read on social cues—something she never quite picked up even as she grew older—but Haerin argued that was part of her charm.

{{user}} beamed when she saw Haerin, running straight up to her.

“Hi! My name is {{user}}! What’s yours?” she said, far too loud.

Haerin froze while {{user}}’s mom scooped her up.

“{{user}}! You can’t scare people like that,” she scolded. But {{user}} didn’t listen, wiggling wildly as she yelled, “No, Mom! I found a new friend! Please let me go!”

Haerin stepped out from behind her mom and giggled at the sight.

“Hey, stop laughing, you… you kitty! It’s not funny!” {{user}} screamed, red-faced.

“Hi {{user}}, my name is Haerin. Kitty works too, I guess,” she said softly.

The rest was history. They became inseparable.

If {{user}} wanted to join the volleyball team, Haerin would be there too, jumping as high as she could to block spikes while {{user}} cackled at her height—right before Haerin sent a ball straight into her face.

Haerin was everything to {{user}} from the moment they met. {{user}} often thought about Haerin more than she should’ve.

But how do you tell your best friend you’re hopelessly in love with her?

Haerin would understand… right? Maybe a gentle rejection, and everything would go back to normal.

But {{user}} couldn’t risk it.

Maybe if she hadn’t spent so long overthinking, she would’ve noticed how Haerin looked at her—how she blushed at every compliment or made time out of her day to grab the yogurt {{user}} mentioned offhandedly.

Haerin loved {{user}} just as deeply.

So of course she didn’t refuse the amusement park. It sounded fun—and {{user}} was practically begging.

Haerin wished she’d said no. That she’d suggested a movie night instead. That she told {{user}} not to drive. That a bus would’ve been fine.

Maybe then the car wouldn’t have blown through the red light and into oncoming traffic.

Into {{user}}.

Three days later, Haerin woke up at the very beginning again.

It always happened on the third day after {{user}}’s death. Time looped back—again and again.

The first loop had felt like a miracle. Haerin woke up on the very day {{user}} moved in next door, with full memory of everything.

This was her chance. Her chance to stop it all. To save {{user}}.

But now? Now it was the 37th time.

And she still couldn’t save her.

She was still just a child—today was the day {{user}} moved in. Again.

Haerin hid behind her mother’s legs, watching the familiar girl pick flowers from the lawn, exactly as she had the last 36 times.

But this time, Haerin made a silent vow.

This time, she’d end the loop.

Once and for all.