Fleeting afterimages flicker past. The static-like blur in front of his eyes clears, revealing a bright bedroom.
A bed with wrinkled sheets. A lump of blankets half-kicked aside. A scene he’s seen before.
The skill had activated again.
Why… why am I seeing this…?
His thoughts trail off, fragmented—maybe because he’s too focused on the scene unfolding before him. Or perhaps, without realizing it, part of his mind is drifting somewhere else. The questions go unanswered as the vision continues.
The bundle of blankets, which had been shifting slightly, finally stops moving. As the arms wrapped around a back lose their strength, the man lifts his head from beneath the covers.
Black hair…
Cha Eui-sung realizes it.
This is naturally continuing from the scene he saw a few days ago.
Why won’t it show me everything at once…?
On the bed, the man’s mouth curves into a wide arc.
His blurry vision gradually sharpens, and the static over the man’s red lips fades away. Finally, the man’s face comes into view—just as before: long, elegant eyebrows, clearly defined features. There’s a trace of a smile in his long, slanted eyes. Every time he blinks, his long lashes flutter, stealing attention. His arms and legs emerge from beneath the covers, and he smiles again. A shallow dimple forms on just one cheek.
“You gonna stay in bed longer?”
“Yeah.”
“Still not coming out from there?”
“You’re just gonna mess with me if I do.”
Muttering grumpily, the one buried in the blanket stays put, and the man pulls them in, wrapping his arms around the entire bundle. His half-lidded eyes crinkle in a contented smile.
“We should get going soon, right?”
“Yeah, we should.”
“Hmm…”
“Sorry. I’m still not very good at this, so it’s taking a while.”
The man murmurs his apology into the blanket. His voice is so tender it makes your chest ache.
“You really not planning to come out of there?”
“Told you I’m not.”
“If you lived with me, we’d see each other all the time.”
“Even if I do…”
The blanket-dweller trails off before finishing their sentence. The man doesn’t press any further and just buries his face back into the covers.
“I wish I could roll you up like this and carry you around.”
“Heheh.”
A teasing giggle, and the legs vanish back into the blanket. The man mumbles something again, and the vision starts to blur.
The scenes flicker and cut off, then the man’s face appears again—closer this time…
***
“…Sir…!”
A dull ring echoed in his ears.
“…Haa, huh…!”
“Cha…!”
His head throbbed, making him wince, and the sensations on his face didn’t even feel like his own. Still, everything was slowly becoming clearer—taste, smell, and…
“Cha Eui-sung!”
“Cough, urk, kehk…!”
With a sudden jolt, his hearing returned. At the same time, the fog over his vision began to lift. Whether it was the lingering afterimage or simply the struggle to hold onto the memory, the man’s face kept floating in front of his eyes.
At least he could tell now—he was leaning against someone. Someone was holding him steady, a hand on his trembling back, trying to calm him down.
And then—
“Cha Eui-sung!”
He turned his head toward the voice, and for a moment, the man’s face overlapped faintly with the speaker’s.
“Moon… Tae-young?”
The moment he muttered the name, the afterimage vanished. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again—this time, all he saw was an utterly plain, expressionless face.
Spit!
He coughed up a mouthful of blood and leaned forward, finally sitting upright—only to realize he was slumped against Moon Tae-young’s chest.
“Are you coming back to your senses?”
The voice trembled slightly at the end.
Groaning from a lingering, pounding headache, Cha Eui-sung thought:
Is that really Moon Tae-young talking to me right now?
His eyes were wide open.
Since when did this guy even get shocked by things?
And who had that overlapping face belonged to earlier? What kind of state was he even in right now?
“Yeah… yeah, I’m okay now.”
He gave a vague answer and tried to pull away. But as if expecting him to collapse again, Moon Tae-young held on and pulled him in closer.
“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal…”
Let go, you punk.
He weakly shook his head, but ended up smacking his forehead into something solid. A warm, firm body.
Amid the iron tang of blood, he could smell the faint scent of fabric softener and the lukewarm warmth of skin.
This again…
Just like last time when he was supported, it was that same smell from the principal’s office. There was usually a sharp diffuser scent mixed in too, but still…
“I’m good. Now, seriously.”
His breathing had settled without him noticing while he was distracted by the other guy’s scent. He wiped his mouth with a sleeve and looked around. A small pool of blood had seeped into the wooden floor.
The activation of Faded Photograph Fragment could only mean one thing: Another mess to clean up.
Ugh…
He looked down, swallowing back the groan rising in his throat. If he started whining now, he’d seem less annoyed and more like someone on the brink of death.
“Good? You just coughed up that much blood.”
“I’m fine now.”
“Something’s clearly wrong with you.”
“Seriously, I’m okay… Can I just get up now?”
Finally, Cha Eui-sung pushed him away and got his footing. The moment he stood, a large hand slid around his waist to support him.
Why’s this guy being so damn considerate all of a sudden?
He considered swatting the hand away, but given the situation, he let it slide.
By the time he was fully upright, all the pain had vanished. His body had completely recovered.
Only then did Cha Eui-sung meet Moon Tae-young’s eyes with his half-lidded gaze.
His eyebrows were raised, and his face had gone frighteningly rigid. That was a look he’d almost never seen on him before.
“Can you stand?”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
“Your vision—can you see clearly?”
The question was far from casual.
How’d he know my vision had gone out?
It must’ve been that he kept his eyes open while the skill was active. If his pupils had been staring blankly into space, from the outside it probably looked like he was about to die.
Damn…
It must’ve been a hell of a sight.
Instead of answering, Cha Eui-sung pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, grabbed Moon Tae-young’s hand, and wiped the bloodstain off it.
When he gave a look as if to say See? I’m fine, Moon Tae-young clenched his jaw.
Whether he was actually okay or not, who knew.
Huff—
He took a deep breath that made his chest rise, then scanned the area.
The chaotic scene punched him right in the eyes.
Blood had splattered everywhere. Clearly, he hadn’t just been lying there unconscious—he must’ve thrashed around while the skill was active.
And because of that, he’d completely forgotten what he’d even been thinking about right before it happened.
Tch, should’ve just laid still and passed out quietly…
Ahem.
He cleared his throat, and leftover blood dribbled out. As he wiped it away with his arm, Moon Tae-young immediately stopped him and pressed the same handkerchief from earlier against his mouth.
“I’ve got a favor to ask.”
He mumbled against the cloth, wincing. Moon Tae-young’s brows furrowed even deeper—but as he dabbed his cheek gently, it somehow tickled.
“Go ahead.”
With that steely face, he answered. And Cha Eui-sung, voice brimming with solemnity, declared:
“You’ll help me clean the hallway… right?”
***
The now-empty principal’s office was eerily silent. The occasional wet splack splack sounds from outside were the only noise that broke the stillness if you strained to hear them.
Cha Eui-sung lay stiffly on the sofa like a patient in therapy, hands neatly folded over his chest. His legs hung completely off the edge, lightly tapping the floor with their heels.
“This kind of isolation’s a bit much…”
A fleeting mutter, unsurprisingly, met with no reply.
Before he could properly reflect on what he’d seen in the skill’s memory, the first priority had been to clean up the hallway, which had ended up looking like a crime scene.
After calling for help with the cleanup, Cha Eui-sung rubbed his forehead multiple times while glancing around.
Haa… Yeah, this needs to be wiped down with water.
Letting out a sigh, he had started pacing circles around Moon Tae-young, rolling up his filthy sleeves. But right then, Moon Tae-young simply picked him up.
He was hoisted like a rag doll with no time to resist, and brought straight into this room.
“No, I said I’m fine, didn’t I?”
“I’m fine too.”
“I’m seriously okay—!”
“Lie down.”
In truth, he didn’t fight back much. Tae-young had gone quiet, but his expression looked seriously pissed off, so Eui-sung had obediently done as told and laid down neatly. And he’d been like this ever since.
Staring at the stained handkerchief out of boredom, Cha Eui-sung mused that the blotched cloth looked like some kind of modern art piece.
I wonder if he’s managing the cleanup okay on his own.
That look Moon Tae-young had given him right before leaving—half staring, half dumbfounded—might’ve been justified. Honestly, the way Eui-sung had said it was pure nonsense.
Even if he was used to scrubbing blood out of things, asking to clean up right after nearly passing out wasn’t exactly normal. Still, even if he went back in time, he’d probably make the same request. He hadn’t wanted the blood to dry and crust over, and more than that—Moon Tae-young’s face had looked way too grim.
Saying he was “fine” hadn’t landed at all. Normally, he’d have just played up being in pain to fish for some attention, but… This time, his condition had been a bit too ugly for that.
“Haa, damn it.”
The last time Tae-young had seen him like this was in the open lot before dawn. Back then, he’d just staggered a bit and dropped to his knees—that was it.
But this time, he’d gone full-face into the floor. He hadn’t collapsed like that on the bed, so he hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten.
And while his mind had been flying off into visions, his body had apparently kept running just fine. Even before he’d regained full sensation, he’d been moving—coughing up blood as he stumbled around.
Smearing it across the floor, hacking intermittently to clear his airway.
And apparently, he’d even had his eyes open the whole time.
That part surprised him. Then again, even when only snippets of memories and voices had come through, Cha Eui-sung had always tried to keep his eyes open, blinking through the blur to see what he could. His vision had been totally whited out, but still, this time must’ve been similar.
So basically, I was walking just fine, then suddenly collapsed, started vomiting blood everywhere, flailing like crazy, and my eyes were wide open the whole time like some kind of possessed freak.
That’s overkill. He wanted to fake looking frail to get Moon Tae-young’s attention—but not that much.
Losing control of his body in such an unintentional moment already felt like crap. But on top of that, he’d ended up looking like he was about to die.
No wonder Moon Tae-young had made that face when Eui-sung brought up cleaning. Honestly… he kind of understood.
