“—Hah!”
Sihyeon shot his eyes open under the blanket and immediately threw it off, gasping for air as a suffocating pressure rushed over him. His blinking eyes slowly adjusted, revealing a stark white ceiling. It was a color so far removed from pitch black that the difference felt almost absurd.
“……”
Still dazed as he steadied his breathing, Sihyeon fumbled beside the bed, reaching out until his hand found his phone. He pressed the power button, and the screen lit up: 3:03 a.m. It was early to wake up, but considering when he had gone to sleep, it was more than enough—excessive, even.
Kang Sihyeon.
The name he had ultimately failed to call out lingered in his throat as he muttered it silently. With dry eyes, he stared at his own hand. From the joints of his fingers to the shape of his nails—every part of it belonged to someone else.
“It’s your body now.”
That’s what he had said.
It didn’t feel real. Sihyeon raised the back of his hand to cover his vision. For some reason, it felt like he had a fever.
The conversation he’d had with the seventeen-year-old boy remained vivid in his mind. The boy who had spoken as if some dreams could reveal the truth—Sihyeon suddenly recalled his final voice.
Yoo Sihyeon.
It had been a month since he last heard his own name. Not Kang Sihyeon, but Yoo Sihyeon. It was a name only he himself had known, and this was the first time hearing it since transmigrating. His stomach churned violently, as if a foreign hand had reached inside and stirred everything up.
His emotions surged like crashing waves. Instead of settling with time, the nausea only worsened. Sihyeon abruptly kicked himself out of bed, clamping a hand over his mouth as he ran toward the bathroom.
“—Ugh.”
Collapsed over the toilet, he tried to empty his churning stomach. But no matter how much he gagged, nothing came out.
For a moment, he remembered the instant his body had been flung into the air after being hit by a car.
“—Ugh.”
Another dry heave wracked his body.
He remembered his shattered phone. He remembered the first day he opened his eyes in this place. Something uncontrollable surged up his throat, as if it would force everything inside him out. His mouth turned sour, as though stomach acid had risen. His eyes stung from the repeated retching.
What did you choose?
There was no one left to answer. Closing his eyes, Sihyeon slumped forward, bracing himself against the toilet lid. All the strength drained from his body. His stomach still churned, but the sharp sting in his throat warned him that forcing more out would only make things worse.
“……”
He couldn’t go back.
The certainty struck him suddenly. And along with it came the certainty that his original body was dead.
That hypothetical chance he had considered before falling asleep would never come. Kang Sihyeon would never return to his own body either.
A single conversation with Kang Sihyeon had driven countless uncertainties into solid conviction. Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, one thing was clear—
Right now, for Sihyeon, it was a misfortune.
Why did you save me?
And why give me your body in exchange?
With no answers, no meaning, he swallowed the questions and retched again. This time it came out involuntarily—
“—Ugh!”
Foamy spit dripped from his mouth. His throat burned. His nose tingled, and his eyes grew hot.
It would’ve been better not to know.
Clinging to fragile hope was better than falling into a place where no hope existed at all. That was why he endured the suffocation, endured the frustration.
But now that he knew the rope he had been holding onto was rotten—everything felt hopeless. The signposts were gone.
It was like sinking.
…Should I just die?
When he first arrived here, he had tried to jump from an apartment rooftop, but an unknown man had stopped him before he could follow through.
So this time, if he actually went through with it… maybe something would change. Maybe a miracle would happen.
Like returning to where he belonged as if by miracle. Like returning to his own body that had somehow survived. Like facing his sister, who would be crying for him.
Imagining all those “what if” scenarios, Sihyeon let out a hollow laugh. Moving away from the toilet, he leaned against the bathroom wall and slowly closed his eyes.
The unfamiliar air disrupted his breathing. His unfamiliar body felt stiff, like a block of wood.
He was tired.
Tired of hiding it in front of others. Tired of enduring everything alone. Tired of his own personality—returning without raising his voice even once, even when standing before the one responsible for his misfortune.
Exhausted by everything, Sihyeon remained slumped there in silence for a long time before finally lifting his eyelids. His unfocused gaze drifted into empty space.
Time passed. Minutes turned into dozens. Just as he wondered if his body had stiffened from sitting still for so long, his fingers twitched.
After a long escape, he finally organized his thoughts.
This life—someone else’s life—had begun with the belief that he could one day return. But now that it had become completely his own, it didn’t feel real. Still…
“I can’t go back to that body anymore.”
The boy’s voice resurfaced through his denial and avoidance. He could even recall the expression on his face.
Pressing his lips together tightly, Sihyeon slowly pushed himself up and looked down at his hands—familiar, yet not.
There was still so much he hadn’t heard, so much he didn’t know. If he died like this, ignorant of everything, there would be things he’d regret.
Whether he wanted it or not, they had both taken something from each other—once each, fairly. And in Sihyeon’s memory, the expression Kang Sihyeon had worn was far too vivid for him to simply resent and condemn him.
No one welcomes death. Even if reality is so miserable that death seems preferable, few people choose death because it looks appealing. Sihyeon, too, had been closer to the former.
But now… he didn’t know which was better anymore.
“……”
With eyes that seemed to have sunk into the deepest depths, Sihyeon stared at his hand before slowly clenching it into a fist and lifting his head.
His reflection stared back at him from the mirror.
A face that wasn’t smiling. It felt distant from the Kang Sihyeon he had seen in his dream.
…Maybe it would’ve been better to do nothing at all.
So that’s why people always say you shouldn’t meddle with fate in movies and novels.
Letting out a hollow thought, Sihyeon brushed off his clothes and returned to his room, his breathing heavy with something like a sigh.
He needed to think simply.
Wasn’t that what that bastard—who had ruined not only his own life but someone else’s with his reckless choice—had said while criticizing his personality?
Leaving the bathroom, Sihyeon returned to his room. Keeping himself composed, he looked around—and noticed a blue suitcase.
It hadn’t been there before he went to sleep.
It didn’t take much thought to figure out who had left it. Remembering the seventeen-year-old boy who had asked him to take care of his people, Sihyeon stared at the suitcase with complicated eyes.
Then, as if making a decision, he opened it and began packing—something he hadn’t done before falling asleep. Like someone preparing to leave somewhere.
As he packed belongings that had never been his, he gradually sorted through the emotions he couldn’t control.
He felt wronged. Dumbfounded. Despairing. Frustrated.
But as always, he was quick to accept things.
So this time, too, Sihyeon chose resignation.
He couldn’t go back anyway—so what could he do?
Since he couldn’t return, he couldn’t recklessly choose death either. There were things he needed to find out.
At the very least, he needed to know what Kang Sihyeon had left behind to make such a choice. How he even knew about him. And how he had managed to transmigrate him into this body.
And absurdly enough… Before dying just because there was no hope, seventeen-year-old Kang Sihyeon felt pitiful to him.
It was sympathy from someone in no position to give it.
“Ha…”
Wondering how things had come to this, Sihyeon continued packing with mixed emotions. At some point, dawn had begun to break—perhaps he had spent longer spacing out in the bathroom than he thought.
After placing one last thin T-shirt into the suitcase, he zipped it shut. Picking up his phone, he checked the screen.
March 3, 2019.
Even the year was different from the date he had seen before being hit by the car.
Etching that small but significant difference into his mind, Sihyeon lay down on the bed.
The soft mattress sank beneath him. Staring at the ceiling—both unfamiliar and familiar—until he grew used to it, Sihyeon slowly closed his eyes.
People always say you need a goal in life. Something to act as a guidepost.
When he had been in Yoo Sihyeon’s body, his goal had been simple: graduate college safely and get a good job.
The face of his sister surfaced in his mind.
Letting himself sink briefly into the memory, Sihyeon soon reminded himself that it was a memory he shouldn’t dwell on. Carefully, he placed it into a small box in his mind and buried it away.
Now, he had to focus on the present.
Closing his eyes, he recalled the brief time he had lived as Kang Sihyeon. One by one, the faces of the Four Heavenly Kings came to mind, and he frowned.
For now… he just wanted to live an ordinary life.
Not getting involved with people like the Four Heavenly Kings. Meeting ordinary friends, having ordinary conversations, enjoying a normal daily life—a simple, balanced life.
But…
A Dual Class ability user with the Copy class.
Facing his reality, Sihyeon pressed his lips together and rubbed his brow. A headache throbbed at the thought of things not going as he wished.
He wanted to live normally.
But this damned body wasn’t normal.
When he himself wasn’t normal, how could he possibly talk about living a normal life?
Letting out a sigh at the difficulty of it all, Sihyeon sat up and looked out the window toward Dawoon’s house.
Kang Sihyeon’s voice echoed in his ears like hypnosis.
If he had to live in this body anyway, then at the very least, he wanted to grant Kang Sihyeon’s request—however small.
And if he added a bit of his own desire…
He wanted to look after Haru hyung, and live as normally as possible.
If normal wasn’t possible, then at least—
He wanted to live a life where he could protect the people he cared about. So he wouldn’t lose them and regret it again.
For now, that was his goal.
Having reached that conclusion, Sihyeon turned his gaze to the calendar hanging on one side of the room.
March 3, 2019.
After a long period of wandering, it was the day Yoo Sihyeon decided to live as ‘Kang Sihyeon.’
