[No, it just looked like you two were holding hands so tenderly.]
The voice sounded fine at a glance, but Lee Haru picked up on a subtle tremor. Only then did he remember just how much the body’s original owner had liked Kang Min.
Lee Haru twisted his wrist. Kang Min’s grip loosened. He slipped his hand out discreetly and rubbed his sweaty palm against his pants.
“It’s not like that. I just suddenly felt sick…”
As he spoke, it felt like he’d been caught doing something shady with someone else’s partner.
He could feel Kang Min’s gaze brushing against his face. Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, Lee Haru took a small breath to steady himself.
He was uneasy—both because of the silent body’s owner and Kang Min, who seemed puzzled by his abrupt action of pulling away.
For now, he decided to try speaking to the body’s owner first. The lingering tremble in that voice had stayed with him.
Hey…
But the reply came from beside him. Lost in thought, he hadn’t realized the car had already arrived at its destination.
“Wait just a moment.”
As Lee Haru reached for the door handle, Kang Min stopped him. Instead, Kang Min stepped out first and opened the door on Haru’s side.
“I’ll help you. It looks like walking might be hard.”
“No, really, I’m fine.”
When Kang Min moved in without hesitation to support him, Haru shook his head. Realizing that the body’s owner was watching their every move made him extra cautious.
As he’d suspected, the body’s owner hadn’t let go of Kang Min. Of course, he had loved him so deeply he gave up his life—it was no surprise that even death hadn’t erased that feeling.
Besides, technically, the body was still alive. The problem was Haru’s soul now inhabited it.
It had been the body’s owner’s will for him to take over, but now that their relationship with Kang Min seemed to be shifting, perhaps it had left him feeling conflicted.
Even from Haru’s perspective, Kang Min’s attitude had changed drastically since the first time they met.
Truthfully, neither the body’s owner nor Kang Min had done anything wrong. The one who destroyed their relationship beyond repair was Hong Seong-jun, who had approached the body’s owner while disguised as Kang Min.
Now that he was free from captivity, Haru struggled with how to take revenge on Hong Seong-jun.
It wasn’t even difficult pretending to like Hong Seong-jun—it’s not like they were ever alone together.
But seeing how much the body’s owner was suffering made Haru feel the need to harden his resolve.
He was someone who, bound by lingering attachments, couldn’t move on even in death and remained behind as a spirit.
He had said he could only leave after seeing Hong Seong-jun suffer.
“Guide Lee Haru.”
“…Ah.”
He’d thought he was walking fine on his own, but it had been a delusion. Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed the state of his body.
Only when a strong arm wrapped around his waist did he realize he’d been on the verge of collapsing forward.
Had Kang Min not caught him, he would have been seriously hurt. The breath scattering across his philtrum was even hotter than before.
His condition had worsened to the point where he could not even walk on his own.
When did things get this bad?
Thinking back, he had nearly died at Zero’s hands again today, and the time he’d spent locked up had unknowingly built up a great deal of stress.
Until Ji Yeon-woo appeared, he’d been left alone in a quiet space, killing time with meaningless actions.
The times Hong Seong-jun visited were even more grueling than being alone—he’d had to pretend to be interested in the man, which doubled his mental exhaustion.
Even though things seemed fine now, when Zero’s hand pierced through Kang Min’s body, he felt like the world had stopped.
This body didn’t have any chronic illnesses, but it was especially weak. When Haru had first recovered the body’s memories, hadn’t he frequently vomited blood and fainted?
That hadn’t happened recently, but all the time he’d spent enduring things stoically suddenly felt meaningless.
Just let him help me to the hospital room. Sorry, Lee Haru.
Cold sweat didn’t just bead on his forehead—it streamed down like pearls, stinging his eyes. With no choice left, Haru leaned on Kang Min as they moved.
His feet barely grazed the floor—it would not be an exaggeration to say Kang Min was essentially carrying him.
The body’s owner remained silent, even as Haru finished the check-in process and entered the hospital room.
“Your body is quite depleted overall. For now, we’ll focus on IV nutrition. Once your energy is stabilized, we’ll proceed with tests.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Jin Sung-joon’s eyes, which Haru hadn’t seen in a long time, were filled with concern.
It seemed like he had something to say, but as Haru’s eyelids drooped weakly, Jin adjusted the IV drip speed and quietly left the room.
Kang Min also stood up. Now that he had safely gotten Haru to the room and his condition had somewhat stabilized, he intended to regroup with Yu Je-hyun.
Five minutes ago, Yu Je-hyun had sent a message saying he thought he’d caught Zero’s trail, along with the coordinates of the moving location.
“Guide Lee Haru, rest well. If anything happens, press the call button right away.”
At the soft voice, Haru barely managed to open his eyes. Maybe the IV had a sedative effect—he’d been overwhelmed by drowsiness for a while now.
“…Take care.”
His voice came out hoarse. Kang Min gave a small nod, then turned away. The sound of the door closing coincided with Haru’s eyelashes lowering.
Are you really not going to talk to me?
Half-asleep, Haru spoke to the body’s owner. The persistent silence worried him.
[…I’m embarrassed. You didn’t do anything wrong, but I lashed out at you anyway.]
Was it because Kang Min had left? This time, a reply came more readily.
I would’ve done the same. When you like someone, your thoughts and actions never follow your will.
He had been there too. He still remembered how shocked he’d been at himself when he thought he might truly come to hate Yu Je-hyun if he ended up falling in love with Ji Yeon-woo like in the novel’s original storyline.
More than anyone, he wanted Yu Je-hyun to keep his feelings only for him.
Just imagining the way Yu Je-hyun looked at him being directed at someone else was enough to make a corner of his heart feel like it was splintering apart.
[…I’m sorry. I keep asking for too much and only making you feel pressured. Kang Min has nothing to do with me anymore, but earlier… I just felt a little strange.]
The sadness in his voice slowly pushed sleep away. Haru wished he could see him too. If he could, even if he couldn’t touch him, he could at least pat his shoulder.
In the end, Haru opened his eyes. He glanced around, but the spacious hospital room was empty aside from himself.
But your plan for revenge… that hasn’t changed, right?
The question suddenly rose up in his mind. What truly was the right thing for the body’s owner?
He agreed that Hong Seong-jun deserved to suffer.
But Hong Seong-jun didn’t seem like someone who would be wounded the way the body’s owner had been. If he were a remotely decent person, he wouldn’t have pushed someone he liked to the brink of death.
Even if he tricked Hong Seong-jun into thinking Haru liked him, and then revealed it had all been a lie, would it really hurt him like it had hurt the body’s owner? He wasn’t sure.
More likely, the man would just fly into a rage and lash out.
[I can’t think of anything else. I’m already dead, and now I don’t even know what I need to do to finally move on. I just… want Hong Seong-jun to suffer as much as I did—no, more than I did. That’s the only thing that might ease my pain.]
His voice brimmed with confusion. Haru couldn’t blame him. He had never once resented anyone in his life.
Even his own parents, who had abandoned him, he had held in his heart not with bitterness, but with longing.
But perhaps because of the lingering effect of living in this body—or maybe because he had experienced the man’s memories firsthand—he found himself desperately wanting revenge against Hong Seong-jun.
What could he do to make that bastard suffer even more than the body’s owner had?
But the thing is… I like Yu Je-hyun right now.
It was just a thought in his head, but the moment he admitted it aloud, he felt so embarrassed he could hardly bear it. Fiddling with the edge of the blanket, Haru thought back on Hong Seong-jun’s reactions so far.
Knowing his personality, wouldn’t it be more painful for him to see me growing closer to Yu Je-hyun instead of him?
It was a sudden flash of insight—but the more he considered it, the more it made sense. When he was upset that Yeon-woo would be going somewhere else, Hong Seong-jun hadn’t even tried to hide his panic.
Back then, Hong Seong-jun had cornered him with a frightening intensity, demanding to know if he had fallen for Ji Yeon-woo too.
It was as if loving Kang Min was something natural, but turning that affection toward someone else was an unforgivable betrayal—like the sky itself had fallen.
