Many people—or rather, nearly everyone in Korea—found the relationship between Ji Se-min and Sung Cha-hyeon fascinating.
That Sung Cha-hyeon—the Sung Cha-hyeon—had someone he doted on like a real younger brother. That he had someone he wanted to protect. That he actually had a pair guide who could tolerate his impossible personality.
Even Se-min admitted that while his hyung was gentle toward him, he was rather indifferent to everyone else. Maybe “not the warmest type” would be putting it kindly. Se-min often tried to excuse it, telling himself that was probably why his beloved hyung had such a bad reputation.
Still, when he thought back on it, Se-min couldn’t quite understand how they had grown so close. By the time he was old enough to think for himself, Cha-hyeon had already become something like a real brother—a guardian, an idol—but he was so young then that the time in between was a blur. Honestly, Cha-hyeon didn’t seem like the kind of person who would be kind to some random little kid he barely knew.
Especially back then, when he was going through his worst rebellious phase—his teenage years, still reeling from the shock of losing his parents right before his eyes, hanging out with the wrong crowd.
But Se-min never had the heart to ask him why. If he had to sum it up, his question would have been: “Why is hyung only nice to me?” Yet at that age, when he was also a teenager—and secretly in love with Cha-hyeon—there was no way he could have brought himself to ask.
So instead, he’d quietly gone to his grandmother. She had squinted her wrinkled eyes and answered with an uncertain smile.
“Well? He petted you once, and you kept wiggling up to him, begging for more, sticking to his side. Guess he couldn’t resist and got attached to the little pup.”
…And thinking about it, that sounded about right. He’d been thrilled to have an older boy—ten years his senior—who rode the bus to school. He’d followed Cha-hyeon around tirelessly, never getting bored.
Even when he was shy and nervous, he’d share his snacks, give him drawings from kindergarten, and even offer to lend his favorite robot toy. Cha-hyeon would just stare blankly or give half-hearted responses, but Se-min had been happy just to get any reaction at all.
But as kids his age often did, Se-min wanted to be someone special—someone unique in Cha-hyeon’s world. His grandmother, whose memory had started to fade though she wasn’t truly senile, thought for a long moment before something seemed to click.
“Ah, now that I think about it—maybe it started around that time.”
“That time?”
“You know, the day Cha-hyeon came home hurt after hanging out with those bad kids. You, my baby…”
A faint memory surfaced. Sometimes a single word could bring back an entire forgotten moment.
“…hurt… worried…”
“…don’t worry about it…”
“…maybe transferring schools would help…”
Little Se-min had been half-asleep, hearing muffled voices through the door. If he kept his eyes closed, he might drift off again—but if he rubbed them, he might wake completely. In that hazy twilight between sleep and waking, what truly brought him back was Cha-hyeon’s calm voice.
“It doesn’t hurt that much.”
Hurt? Puffy-cheeked from sleep, Se-min rolled over and sat up. His eyes weren’t open properly, but the word “hurt” got his legs moving.
The sound had come from Hyung’s room. Padding over on small feet, Se-min peeked through the narrow crack in the door.
“…Hyung?”
And what he saw drove every trace of sleep from his body. It was a sight he had never seen before.
A forehead split and barely scabbed over, a bruised cheekbone, a cracked lip. Even a child could tell how badly that must have hurt. At daycare, he’d cry just from seeing a friend get scolded—so seeing his Hyung covered in wounds and not crying would have been even stranger.
His mouth fell open, and tears welled in his eyes.
“…Hhh, huuuh, huuuu…!”
Frozen in shock, he pointed at Cha-hyeon, trembling. Only when Grandma got up with an “Oh dear,” and scooped him into her arms did he finally burst into loud sobs.
“Hyung! Hyung-aaah!”
He bawled like he was tattling to Grandma, telling her to look at Hyung’s face. Then, wriggling out of her arms, he crawled toward Cha-hyeon on his own.
Up close, Hyung’s injuries looked even worse. Se-min’s mouth hung open so wide his drool pooled, and clutching at Cha-hyeon’s sleeve, he wailed louder—almost a scream.
It was louder than when his favorite robot toy had snapped in half. Cha-hyeon just frowned faintly, rubbing his ear like the crying was too much.
It took a while for Se-min to calm down, having woken from his nap only to bawl uncontrollably. Though the tears had been mostly out of shock, he soon ran out of them.
Sniffling, he rubbed his swollen eyes and wiped his tears and snot right on the first thing he saw—Cha-hyeon’s blanket. The clear imprint of eyes, nose, and mouth stood out on the floral pattern, making Hyung’s expression sour further.
“Hospital… we should go to the hospital.”
Sniffling again, Se-min pointed at him and said it to Grandma. Then, noticing the first-aid kit beside her, he reached for it with both hands, flapping urgently.
“Guess he found it cute,” Grandma said later. “That little one fussing over him, putting on ointment and bandages, worrying like that.”
“…Really?”
Se-min tilted his head. He couldn’t remember clearly, but he thought they’d been awkward for quite a while after that. Maybe it only felt long because he’d been little.
“Of course.” Grandma’s tone was fond, but then her face clouded over. Gratitude and sorrow mixed in her expression as if another memory had surfaced.
“Thanks to Cha-hyeon stepping up back then, we managed to find you, too.”
“Find me?”
“Don’t you remember? There was a Gate alarm in town—a dungeon had opened and everyone was supposed to evacuate to the shelter. But you were missing. I was too old and slow to search properly. Then Cha-hyeon said he’d find you himself. He searched the whole neighborhood until he brought you back.”
“He did…?”
He remembered crying while putting ointment on Cha-hyeon’s wounds, but not that part. Thinking hard, Se-min finally said, with a hint of realization:
“Was that the time? When I was playing alone at the playground, and suddenly Hyung came running up, panting like crazy…”
“……”
“Uh, Hyung?”
Cha-hyeon’s jaw had been tight, his breath ragged. Then he came straight toward him.
“Hyung, huh…?”
It had been a desperate hug. Se-min blinked, startled, as Cha-hyeon pulled him close. For a brief moment, he thought—this is the first time Hyung’s hugged me. But as he felt Cha-hyeon’s rough breathing and his hand stroking the back of his head, he asked softly:
“Hyung, what’s wrong?”
He couldn’t remember how Cha-hyeon answered. Maybe he’d scolded him for running off, maybe he’d said nothing at all, or maybe he’d explained they had to evacuate.
Or maybe—The Dungeon Gate broke open. Why are you here…?
“Baby.”
And suddenly, the scenery shifted. The dream, once fragmented, warped into a nightmare. He was no longer a child, and Cha-hyeon was no longer a bruised teenage boy.
The world around him was a dungeon—black and crimson, heavy with heat like the depths of hell.
He didn’t recognize the place, yet somehow he knew it. This was the dungeon where Cha-hyeon had left behind his memories—a horrifying reconstruction born from Se-min’s own subconscious.
“What are you doing here? Go back!”
Hands gripped his shoulders hard enough to hurt. Cha-hyeon’s face was twisted in panic—the same face he’d once seen before. Dressed in his black Esper combat suit, his body was slashed and bloodied. Even though Se-min had never witnessed this scene, his mind reproduced it perfectly.
…Survival rate: 7%. S-rank. Dungeon. Rampage. Flood. Death. Memory loss…
And then—
“Ah… this is fun.”
***
Se-min’s eyes flew open. His heart plummeted with the force of it, but for a while he just sat there, blinking blankly.
His back was damp with sweat. It felt like he’d had a terrible dream—he couldn’t remember it, only the uneasy weight it left behind.
What was I dreaming about…?
He turned on his side, watching the sunlight filter through the blackout curtains, trying to steady the pounding of his heart.
“…Baby…”
He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. From what little he recalled, it had something to do with a dungeon. Probably the lingering effects of yesterday’s events seeping into his dreams.
A cool draft slid under his damp shirt. Maybe he’d gotten hot during the night, buried under the blanket up to his chin. Normally he’d have kicked it off, but he must’ve been too exhausted to move.
Well, it wasn’t surprising. Last night had been… a lot. Their first date had ended with him being taken hostage inside a dungeon, and by the end, his body and mind were completely drained.
Shaking off the remnants of the dream, Se-min slowly got out of bed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. When he opened the door, sunlight poured into the dim bedroom, making him squint.
“Hyung.”
Cha-hyeon was sitting on the sofa in the living room, eyes closed as if meditating. When he turned toward Se-min, he watched him for a long moment before smiling softly.
“You’re up. Sleep well?”
“Yeah… You were up early, huh?”
His voice was thick with sleep as he rubbed his eyes with one hand, phone in the other. Cha-hyeon, whose eyes caught the light in an unreadable way, spoke casually, as if mentioning the weather.
“Had some things on my mind.”
“Haahm… What kinda things?”
Still half-yawning, Se-min echoed him without much thought. Cha-hyeon kept his gaze fixed on him and, in that same calm tone, said—
“Should we get married?”
The phone slipped from Se-min’s hand mid-yawn. His body froze.
“No, seriously. Let’s get married.”
Thunk. Thud.
The heavy device hit the floor with an absurdly loud sound in the quiet room.
