However, instead of going into detail about how many times it had dropped, risen, and dropped again, Se-min chose to keep his mouth shut.
“……”
Cha-hyeon’s expression—still seemingly unable to process the fact that his Favorability was in the negatives—was a sight in itself. But in the end, it was still minus ten. That part hadn’t changed.
“…Minus.”
After a long silence, Cha-hyeon muttered to himself. Even though his face looked composed, it must have hit him hard.
Well, it was a shock. Finding out your fiancé—someone you’d promised to marry—currently held a Favorability of minus ten was no small thing. It was something to reflect on, too.
Se-min decided to give Cha-hyeon time to absorb the blow. But as the dazed look faded from his face and his black eyes started to gleam again—like someone consumed by a singular obsession—Se-min had no choice but to step in quickly.
“Uh! So, hyung. Before I make a few suggestions, there’s something I want to ask first.”
Cha-hyeon’s black eyes—still dark and glimmering with that unsettling light—turned to look at him. It was a gaze filled with something strange and unreadable.
Maybe it was because of what the other Cha-hyeon had said—about how the way he loved Se-min bordered on delusion. Somehow, the look in Cha-hyeon’s eyes now made Se-min feel like he was thinking, “What if I just broke his ankles and locked him up?”
Completely unaware of how close he was to the truth, Se-min continued speaking.
“Would that be okay?”
“Yeah.”
Thankfully, Cha-hyeon agreed without resistance. Encouraged, Se-min went on, ready to talk things through.
“Hyung… are you hoping I’ll get my memories back because it feels like I don’t love you the way I used to?”
He was parroting Deputy Chief Jeong’s words directly. Frankly, Jeong probably understood Cha-hyeon’s mindset better than Se-min did.
Despite the question being a sensitive one, Cha-hyeon’s face didn’t change in the slightest. With the same steady gaze, he gave an honest answer.
“That’s right.”
Se-min flinched. He hadn’t expected him to admit it so easily. So Jeong’s guess had been right.
Se-min licked his lips a few times, then asked the next question more carefully.
“Then can you tell me, honestly… why don’t you want your memories back?”
He understood why someone would feel desperate if their fiancé no longer showed affection. But for Cha-hyeon to keep his own memories locked away while wishing Se-min would recover his and return to the old love—that just felt like robbery.
Still, maybe there was a reason Se-min didn’t know about. After all, the version of him who still had his memories had made the decision to marry the amnesiac Cha-hyeon. Maybe he’d been persuaded—after hearing whatever was really in Cha-hyeon’s heart.
“Why don’t you want to get your memories back? According to Deputy Chief Jeong, if we both remember everything, we’ll never be lovers again. Are you… instinctively afraid of that?”
“Jeong said that?”
Cha-hyeon let out a soft chuckle and repeated the question. Then he placed a hand over his chest, and with a look of deep contemplation—as if considering something from an entirely new angle—he thought over Se-min’s words.
“I don’t think that’s it. But… if I do get them back, maybe that’s exactly what’ll happen.”
It was impossible to tell if he was agreeing or denying it. Se-min, momentarily forgetting his earlier caution, narrowed his eyes.
“What if I said… it’s because I don’t want to die. Would that make sense to you?”
The soft, bitter laugh that followed made it clear—Cha-hyeon knew Se-min wouldn’t understand. Or maybe he was just resigned to that fact.
And he was right. That answer left Se-min completely stunned.
Honestly, it would’ve been easier to believe he was just afraid they wouldn’t be able to be together again if both of them remembered everything. That would’ve at least had a tragic, melodramatic flair to it—like some old tearjerker his grandma used to watch: “Our love, torn apart by fate…”
But “because I don’t want to die”? What the hell did memory recovery have to do with dying?
Still speechless, Se-min blinked dumbly and asked,
“Wait, what…? If you get your memories back, you’ll die?”
As if he’d been expecting that exact reaction, Cha-hyeon let out a small, wry snort. But soon, a quiet sadness spread across his face.
“Who knows? Sung Cha-hyeon probably wouldn’t die. But…”
He slowly ran his tongue along his bottom lip, then simply shrugged. Whether it was because he couldn’t explain it, or because he thought explaining was pointless, Se-min couldn’t tell.
He only grew more confused.
So, the version of him with memories had been convinced by that answer: “Because I don’t want to die.”
And now this cryptic line—Sung Cha-hyeon won’t die, but I will. What did that even mean?
Still, thanks to that strange explanation, Se-min was finally able to sort out the tangle of thoughts in his head.
If recovering his memories meant death—or felt like it—then wasn’t the answer obvious?
After hesitating, Se-min cautiously spoke.
“Alright… Got it. I don’t fully understand it, but I think I can try to. Honestly, I’m okay with you not getting your memories back.”
One of Cha-hyeon’s eyebrows rose, as if taken aback.
But Se-min meant it. It wasn’t that he fully understood Cha-hyeon’s reasoning—it was more like: “Huh. I guess that’s how he sees it. Okay then.”
“You said you feel like you’d die if you got your memories back. And dying is never okay, no matter the reason.”
Now, suspicion clouded Cha-hyeon’s face. He looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
As Se-min nodded slightly, he met Cha-hyeon’s eyes again. They’d promised to marry each other, so this was the last thing he wanted to say. But…
“In that case… shouldn’t we break up?”
A chilling silence fell instantly.
Cha-hyeon blinked, as if questioning what he’d just heard. But the slow, stiffening of his expression said otherwise—he’d heard it clearly.
The air in the hospital room turned razor-sharp.
As the weight of the unexpected conclusion settled, and as Cha-hyeon began to realize the words really had come from Se-min’s lips, the atmosphere around him darkened ominously.
“What did you just say?”
The voice that returned was ice cold—unlike anything Se-min had ever heard before.
“A, ah… I said… what if we broke up,” Se-min mumbled, eyes darting away, his voice trailing into a whisper.
Maybe it was because of his ghost-pale complexion, or maybe it was the sheer intensity of his stare, but Cha-hyeon, unmoving and unblinking, looked like a statue carved from ancient marble.
“Ji Se-min.”
The low, sunken voice called his name. Startled, Se-min instinctively folded his hands together. The thick air tightened around him like a noose.
“You’re saying… we should break up?”
The sheer pressure in Cha-hyeon’s tone stirred something inside Se-min. He felt a small spark of defiance rise, pushing past his discomfort.
Maybe it was because the Favorability had already hit rock bottom.
Se-min, unusually quick to flare up today, snapped back with a bit more bite than intended.
“Well… you said you don’t want your memories back. That remembering feels like dying. Then isn’t the most surefire way to avoid that just… never raising Favorability again? Or do you have a better idea, hyung?”
You don’t want to remember, but you want me to love you like before. You want to reach 100%, but only if I get my memories back—not you.
What the hell do you even want from me?
“And yeah, I guess we could try maxing out Favorability, then removing the item and hoping only your memories stay sealed. But that’s just a gamble. What if we do all that and both of us remember everything anyway?”
–4
Current Favorability: –14%
“Unless, of course, you’ve figured out a way to avoid recovering your memories, avoid raising Favorability, and still stay together without breaking up?”
Se-min tilted his chin, daring him to answer.
Cha-hyeon’s face had gone bone white.
Seeing that, Se-min wondered if he’d gone too far. But at the same time, he needed him to understand—his fantasy solution wasn’t feasible.
“……”
Cha-hyeon stared at him in silence, still pale.
A way to avoid memory recovery, avoid increasing Favorability, and still remain together forever?
Naturally, and just as it had earlier, the most extreme, destructive solution floated to the surface of his thoughts.
If the goal was simply to keep Se-min by his side—no matter what…
A tense swallow moved down Cha-hyeon’s throat, his Adam’s apple rising and falling slowly.
Then, his index finger twitched slightly.
Click.
The soft sound of the hospital door locking echoed through the silence.
