Had Yu Je-hyun’s voice reached him? Just moments ago, Lee Haru’s eyelashes—still and lifeless like a still-life painting—quivered faintly.
Yu Je-hyun, who had been watching Haru’s face without so much as blinking, could not possibly have missed the subtle shift.
He straightened his back from the chair he had been leaning against. The dagger he had been twirling restlessly was now clenched tightly in his grip.
“…Ah.”
The moment those tightly shut eyes fluttered open, Yu Je-hyun was overcome by a strange sensation. It was a ticklish, almost tender feeling, like witnessing a hatchling break free from an egg he had been guarding for ages.
The doctor had been unsure when Lee Haru might wake. All he could offer was cautious optimism—that it would happen within twenty-four hours.
Maybe that was why, when Haru finally came to with only Yu Je-hyun by his side, it felt like something significant. A signal.
Maybe I’m the one he trusts most.
It was a ridiculous, baseless thought. Yet in that moment, the emotion hit Yu Je-hyun with startling intensity.
As Haru’s eyelids blinked slowly, the blur in his pupils began to clear. His pitch-black eyes—so dark the edges of the irises were nearly invisible—glided gently until they settled on Yu Je-hyun’s face. In that instant, the hilt of the dagger buckled slightly under Yu Je-hyun’s tightened grip.
Barely awake, Lee Haru found himself staring up at Yu Je-hyun—glaring down at him, dagger in hand, eyes burning with intensity.
“Hiiik…!”
With a gasp that nearly choked off his breath, Haru’s eyes rolled back. No sooner had he regained consciousness than he fainted again, and Yu Je-hyun’s expression turned sheepish.
He quickly reverted the dagger to its original form and reached toward Haru.
“Hey, Lee Haru. Come on, stay with me.”
He gently tapped Haru’s cheek, careful not to hurt him. Thankfully, a small twitch flickered near Haru’s eyes. Yu Je-hyun waited quietly for him to wake.
Worried his expression might still be intimidating, he forced the corners of his mouth upward in an awkward attempt at a smile.
As Haru’s thick lashes curled back, eyes filled with the night sky gradually came into view.
His gaze wavered, like a floating weed caught in a storm, when it met Yu Je-hyun’s face—now far too close.
“Ugh…”
As if caught in sleep paralysis, Haru could not move his limbs and could only let out a weak groan. Yu Je-hyun reached out and gently poked his cheek with a fingertip.
“Feeling more awake now?”
Seeing him so frightened stirred discomfort in Yu Je-hyun’s chest.
He was trying to look gentle, trying to show concern, but to Haru, he looked more like a murderer—someone who had just tried to stab him.
Even with nothing in his hands now, the gleam in his eyes and the sharp curve of his lips made him frightening in another way.
Already disoriented from the fragments of his dreams, Haru now faced a terrifying vision teetering on the line between dream and reality. His heart thundered as if it might punch through his ribs.
“S-Scary…”
The soft, shrinking voice barely emerged—a primal survival instinct.
Haru could not even meet Yu Je-hyun’s eyes, trembling uncontrollably in fear. The smile that had been tugging at Yu Je-hyun’s lips quickly dissolved.
“…You’re scared of me?”
He understood, intellectually, that Haru could have misread the situation. But when Haru recoiled from him so clearly, it left his mind blank for a split second.
Haru gave a small nod. Even a brief moment of distance between them would have been a relief.
The expression on Yu Je-hyun’s face darkened, as if a shadow had fallen over him—and Haru felt like he might pass out again.
“This is a hospital. Did you forget I saved you?”
A wave of frustration surged within him. Yu Je-hyun grabbed Haru’s shoulders, locking eyes with him.
Was this not the same boy who had clung to him like someone dangling from a cliff’s edge the moment he was rescued?
That moment had stirred up waves in Yu Je-hyun’s chest, like a stone dropped into a still lake. But now, being pushed away made his vision momentarily go black.
He had said thank you back then. Was it only now, in hindsight, that Haru resented him—resented the fact that he had been kidnapped while Yu Je-hyun was too busy fighting monsters to notice?
A flood of thoughts rushed in.
Even though Lee Haru had merely reacted out of instinct—momentarily terrified by Yu Je-hyun’s appearance, which anyone would have found threatening.
“It hurts…”
Unconsciously, Yu Je-hyun had tightened his grip. Haru, now watching him warily, muttered in a small voice.
As he became more aware of his surroundings, Yu Je-hyun’s behavior began to feel off—like someone reacting as if they had been hurt. That only made Haru feel even more uneasy.
What the hell, look in a mirror. Do you seriously not know what you looked like just now?
Wielding a dagger that radiated killing intent and glaring like that—who would not be scared?
Fortunately, it seemed his protest registered. Yu Je-hyun released his shoulders. Haru lifted his other arm to rub at the sore spot with a wince.
Just as Yu Je-hyun had said, the room was filled with a soft white glow, tinged with the faint scent of disinfectant—it was unmistakably a hospital room.
The clip attached to his index finger felt strangely foreign. Turning his head, he saw a monitor displaying a jumble of fluctuating readings.
While Lee Haru, having shaken off some of the shock, examined the hospital room like a curious squirrel, Yu Je-hyun remained trapped in a daze of confusion.
His gaze wavered subtly, following Haru’s every movement. The fact that he was reacting to even the tiniest gestures with such sensitivity felt foreign and unnatural—like he was watching someone else through his own eyes.
When the fear finally seemed to fade from Haru’s face, a sense of relief settled in Yu Je-hyun’s chest. Why did it matter this much?
The way he was acting now—fidgety, desperate not to be disliked—felt exactly like a dumb kid trying not to mess things up in front of his crush…
“…Fuck.”
The realization struck, and Yu Je-hyun muttered a low curse under his breath. The sharp sound of it pierced the air and startled Haru, who immediately turned toward him.
On that small face, the most striking feature was, without question, those enormous, luminous eyes. What kind of guy had eyes that bright?
When Haru had been drenched in gloom, those eyes had barely registered. But now, as soon as their gazes met, Yu Je-hyun felt like he was being pulled in—deep enough to drown in those black pupils.
“Why are you swearing all of a sudden…?”
Even that soft, hesitant murmur sounded oddly pleasant to his ears. If that was not proof he had completely lost it, what was?
Yu Je-hyun took a step back and covered his face with his hand. Beneath his silver hair, the shell of his ear was flushed a vivid red.
He could feel Haru’s baffled stare piercing through his palm, but if he dropped his hand now, he was certain another string of curses would burst out.
SLAM—
“Whoa—!”
Before Haru could get another word out, Yu Je-hyun stormed out, slamming the door behind him with enough force to shake the walls. Haru, suddenly alone in the spacious hospital room, clutched his chest and tried to steady his startled breathing.
“What is wrong with that guy…?”
Yu Je-hyun had left behind nothing but confusion, and stormed off like someone having a breakdown. Haru pressed his fingers to his temple, now pulsing with a dull ache.
“My head hurts… I’m starving… and my throat’s dry…”
The room itself was spacious. Even with several bulky machines lined up beside the bed, it never felt cramped or overwhelming.
Off to one side was a small table, along with a three-seater and a single armchair. Haru’s eyes lit up the moment he noticed the basket sitting on top of the table.
It was brimming with colorful, ripe-looking fruit—juicy, sweet, and practically glowing. He had no idea who had brought it, but since it was inside his room, he figured it was safe to eat.
He cautiously detached the monitoring clip from his index finger. But as soon as he did, one of the machines let out a shrill series of beeps, making him instinctively flinch.
“Guide Lee Haru, I see you are awake.”
Not long after, the door opened again, and a tall man in a white lab coat strode into the room without hesitation.
He had a cool, intellectual aura, with half-rimmed glasses that suited his sharp, handsome features. Haru’s eyes flicked briefly to the name embroidered on the man’s chest—Jin Sung-joon—and he politely folded his hands in front of him.
“Good morning, Doctor.”
The man was clearly a physician, so the greeting came out naturally. Caught off guard, Jin Sung-joon faltered for half a step, nearly stumbling before regaining his balance with practiced core strength. He looked at Haru in mild disbelief.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever gotten a proper greeting from you, Guide Lee Haru. That was nice to hear.”
Wait—he never used to greet people?
Saying hello was basic decency, after all. Haru was especially mindful of manners, and from the man’s reaction, he could tell that Jin Sung-joon must have known the former Haru fairly well.
There was something unmistakably familiar in the doctor’s tone—too casual for someone treating just another patient.
Feels like this is the first person who’s actually been kind to Lee Haru.
That thought offered a small but welcome comfort. The more he learned about the previous Lee Haru, the clearer it became how isolated his life had been—and that realization was quietly heartbreaking.
