As expected, the first thing Cha Eui-sung looked for upon entering Moon Tae-young’s home was the beanbag chair.
It sat obediently in one corner of the living room, exactly as it had been the day he left.
He really did leave it exactly as it was.
Cha Eui-sung tightly restrained the corners of his mouth that threatened to curl upward, forcefully turning his gaze elsewhere. He worried that showing too much happiness might seem childish, but oddly enough, he felt exhilarated.
Even though it wasn’t like he’d become attached to the beanbag chair willingly, getting rejected and enduring a full week without proper contact had built up stress that now seemed to melt away instantly.
I wonder what he thought staring at this beanbag chair all week.
Surrounded by uncontrollable things—from No-Named to strange dreams—it felt genuinely comforting to have Moon Tae-young act somewhat predictably.
Even the living room, which seemed to have emotional issues, and the faint, lingering scent of the homeowner were oddly pleasing. Now, if only he could abandon that weird age calculation logic and just follow his heart to raise the gauge instead.
Honestly, what did age matter in love? It might sound disgusting coming from a truly old man, but Cha Eui-sung was a regressor shining brightly at the physical age of twenty-two.
And the guy who was avoiding him was merely twenty-nine. It was ridiculous and yet utterly characteristic of Moon Tae-young to agonize over an age gap that was basically the neighborhood-hyung level.
Sure, Moon Tae-young was mature for his age. Who could know what he really thought inside? But then again, Cha Eui-sung wasn’t any different.
On the day he had secured the Hunter Association presidency, had anyone at the party known that behind his gentle smile, he was inwardly cheering, ‘Fuck yeah, I’ve got the Hunter Association now!’?
Thinking of the meteor that struck that very day, causing him to regress, still made the back of his neck tense up. But strangely, he no longer felt that bitter, seething anger toward Moon Tae-young, who had been responsible.
The closer he got to him, the less he could accept they were the same person.
Flop. Cha Eui-sung settled onto the beanbag chair. He’d succeeded in sneaking past Tae-young’s petty moral barriers, but that was just the beginning.
If he lost Moon Tae-young again, the gauge would stagnate at 35% and might not budge for a long, long time. Forget the original goal of one year—even after three years, he might still fail to fill it completely.
Suppressing the excitement that kept bubbling up, he glanced sideways only to find Moon Tae-young already staring at him and his antics.
Cha Eui-sung quickly fixed his expression and snapped his mouth shut.
“Have you eaten?”
“Me?”
Even knowing they were the only ones in the house, Cha Eui-sung instinctively glanced around.
“No, not yet.”
“I just got home myself, so let’s eat together.”
Moon Tae-young, whom Cha Eui-sung had expected to leave him alone once reluctantly allowed inside, unexpectedly opened the fridge and offered. Regardless of appetite, Cha Eui-sung was more curious about whether there was actually any food here.
Yet surprisingly, from the freezer came out frozen bread, solid as a rock.
“How old is that?”
Wondering if it might be fossilized, Cha Eui-sung cautiously asked, and without even turning around, Moon Tae-young answered calmly.
“Not that old. Maybe a week or so? It should be fine, since it’s frozen.”
It was in far better condition than the years-old specimen he’d imagined. Opening the other cabinets might reveal nothing but energy bars or meal replacements, so what impulse had led him to grocery shop?
And precisely one week ago… a week?
That was exactly the day Cha Eui-sung had returned to Cheongseri.
Cha Eui-sung blinked and stared at Moon Tae-young again. The bread seemed completely untouched, frozen solid.
Could it be that he’d bought it specifically in anticipation of Cha Eui-sung’s return? To have something prepared if he came back?
But after their drinking session, he’d sealed it away without even touching it…
Hmm.
Even while thinking it was just speculation, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling hopeful. Previously, he might’ve passed it off as simply thoughtful—but now, he found himself strangely conscious of every little action.
Cha Eui-sung fiddled absentmindedly with the beanbag chair, letting out a long sigh to calm his wavering emotions.
***
“So I told Seo-ryong that she has to fold the fox’s head and body separately and then stick them together, but she said she hates it if it’s not folded from one sheet.”
“I see.”
“When I asked her why, she said a pack of colored paper never has two sheets of the same color, so the head and body colors wouldn’t match.”
“That’s true.”
“So I told her life never works out exactly as you want. If she didn’t want a fox without a body, she’d have to pick blue or whatever was left. If you can’t have your first choice, you take the second best. But then Hyung-nim jumped in and told her to just open another pack. Isn’t that weird? Someday she’ll inevitably be in a situation with only one pack of paper, so I think that’s a questionable way of teaching.”
“……”
Cha Eui-sung had to admit it—he couldn’t seem to control his mouth. Pointless rambling just kept spilling out. He took another crunchy bite of the toast topped with cheese and egg, chattering away without even knowing exactly what he was saying.
“Tsk. It’s boring, right? Before I came here, I only stopped by Hyung-nim’s place.”
“As your second-best choice?”
“…Yes, I suppose.”
With Moon Tae-young interjecting so sharply like this, Cha Eui-sung’s mouth became even harder to control.
What’s wrong with me today?
Feeling unusually foolish, he rambled on about stories he normally wouldn’t even think twice about.
“It was worth hearing. Would you like more juice?”
“Oh, no, I’m fine.”
“How about more food?”
“This is fine, too.”
Honestly, it didn’t taste that great. It tasted exactly as it looked—bread topped with cheese and eggs. Normally he wouldn’t even touch something like this, but it was significant just because Moon Tae-young had made it for him.
“Next time, I’ll make you a meal, too.”
“Not drinks?”
“What do you take me for, an alcoholic?”
Moon Tae-young probably didn’t realize it, but Cha Eui-sung typically avoided anything that muddled his mind. The expensive drinks he consumed whenever leaving Cheongseri weren’t about getting drunk, just an attempt at feeling slightly better.
Of course, it was true he wasn’t particularly interested in food. Cereal or shakes were probably his most frequent meals, if you could even call them that. An S-rank body functioned well enough on minimal calories.
There might have been plenty of things he wanted to eat back then, but after living through a second life, many desires besides survival and success had faded away.
Thinking about both of his lives, he occasionally marveled at how much a person could change.
Of course, I wouldn’t want to go back to my first life.
Halfway through the toast, their conversation was dwindling.
He already found it hard enough to act like nothing had happened. He didn’t want to sit facing each other quietly at this small table.
“I suddenly got curious.”
“Yes?”
“Why’d you suggest eating together? I thought I told you I don’t really accept things easily. What would you have done if I’d refused?”
Cha Eui-sung brushed toast crumbs from his fingers onto the table and asked casually, expecting an indifferent response like “Nothing I could do if you didn’t want to.”
But then, sensing something strange, he raised his eyes to find Moon Tae-young staring directly at him.
“You ate it anyway.”
“What?”
“You seemed uncomfortable with the medicine, so I was worried, but food is different.”
Did that mean Moon Tae-young already knew he’d eat it? And why was he looking at him with those eyes?
Feeling strangely pinned down by his persistent stare, Cha Eui-sung nodded slowly, a peculiar feeling crawling up his spine.
That tone just now… it sounded weird.
It felt as if he’d missed something crucial. Pretending to remain indifferent, Cha Eui-sung quietly retraced his memories.
What have I accepted from him so far…?
First, there was the tea Tae-young offered during their initial consultation when he first transferred. He’d been suspicious at first, worrying it might be spiked with something. But after that one time, he’d accepted everything offered without question.
Next was the medicine after getting stabbed. He had swallowed it in a daze and felt strange afterward, so he’d ignored anything else Moon Tae-young prepared for him.
And after that, when he’d intruded to interrupt Tae-young’s work—had Tae-young given him juice at some point?
Having gotten that far, Cha Eui-sung saw something like a diagram of human evolution forming in his mind.
First, water or teabags, then medicine—which failed—then juice, fruit, toast…
Come to think of it, the things he’d accepted were slowly upgrading from drinks to actual food!
“Your cup’s empty. If you don’t want juice, shall I get you some water instead?”
“Mm. No.”
He didn’t want to consider conspiracies, but a strange thought occurred to him anyway.
Was this bastard slowly feeding him things step by step, starting with the lighter stuff?
Watching over long periods to see if he’d accept or reject each offering…?
A chill ran down his spine. Moon Tae-young didn’t seem like he wanted to harm him. The toast he’d just eaten also seemed completely fine.
Then was Tae-young saying all this without any hidden intention? Was keeping tabs on what Cha Eui-sung accepted or refused just harmless observation from his perspective?
No, that sounds even weirder.
The softened image Moon Tae-young had cultivated by fussing about their age difference suddenly reverted to the original eerie feeling.
Just moments ago, the mood had felt quite soft and pleasant. Why did he have to say something like that, replacing excitement with anxiety?
Unwilling to get tangled further, he quietly bit into the toast, pretending ignorance. Suddenly, Moon Tae-young wore an expression as if realizing he’d made a mistake.
“Oh, damn.”
Muttering to himself, he looked directly at Cha Eui-sung and added something even more confusing.
“You really are quick to catch on, Cha Eui-sung.”
Fuck… Why is he being so creepy?
