7) The Reason You Fall in Love
The test results came in the next day. Both of them were perfectly fine.
Cha-hyeon had expected as much, but Se-min, still a little dazed, muttered, “What tests…? Oh, right. I lost my memory, so they ran all sorts of exams,” as if it had just occurred to him. It was clear he’d had a whirlwind of a day.
Since there was no longer any reason to stay in the hospital, Cha-hyeon chose to be discharged. When he told Se-min to get ready, Se-min didn’t protest. Part of it was because Cha-hyeon was the one covering the hospital bill, but mostly, if there was nothing wrong with him, there wasn’t any reason to remain.
Discharge was straightforward. There was nothing to pack—just Se-min’s phone.
The only delay came when it was time to change. Although Se-min couldn’t remember, Cha-hyeon wouldn’t let him put on the same clothes he’d worn when he was admitted.
“The Center’s sending someone. They’ll bring new clothes. Just wear those.”
“…Oh. Okay.”
The Center is sending someone… with clothes?
He answered automatically, but it took a moment for the full meaning to settle.
So, the Esper Center was personally sending someone to deliver clothes—for both him and Cha-hyeon?
It took time for Se-min to grasp that. With his memory loss, his sense of self was much closer to that of an average civilian. For a moment, he thought Cha-hyeon seemed like one of those chaebol executives from a drama.
Do we really need someone to bring us new clothes? Even if the ones here are kind of gross, it’s just for a little while—I could still wear them…
The thought crossed his mind, but since Cha-hyeon said to wait, he obediently kept quiet.
Just before lunchtime, as Cha-hyeon had said, someone from the Center arrived. The aide to the Director of the Esper Bureau came bearing clothes—shirts, pants, socks, even underwear—all perfectly sized for them. Cha-hyeon took the shopping bags without a hint of surprise and handed one to Se-min.
Maybe it was because he’d already imagined him as a drama chaebol, but the moment Se-min took the bag, his expression turned complicated. The way he fiddled with the handles, flustered and oddly self-conscious, made him feel like the protagonist of a story—a plucky, cheerful main character trying to stay bright despite having nothing.
“……”
Stealing a glance at Cha-hyeon, Se-min retreated to his room when told to hurry up. He found a spot out of sight, stripped off his hospital gown, and changed into the new clothes.
The freshly bought clothes felt crisp and soft against his skin. As he ran his fingers over the sleeve, his expression grew even more conflicted.
I’ve definitely seen this in a rom-com before.
Unintentionally immersed in the experience of a cheerful rom-com lead, Se-min composed his face and stepped back out. In the lounge, Cha-hyeon—already changed—and the aide were waiting.
He’d thought the aide would leave after dropping off the clothes, so it surprised him to find them still there. As Se-min blinked in confusion, Cha-hyeon explained casually.
“They’re giving us a ride home.”
Se-min froze, once again feeling like a character in a romantic comedy. Suddenly, he understood why the female leads in dramas would shout, “Oh no, you don’t have to do that!”
The chaebol boyfriend—no, Cha-hyeon—didn’t say anything like, “Come on, it’s the least I can do for my partner,” but instead pointed out something Se-min hadn’t even considered.
“If people see me leaving the hospital, it’ll make them nervous. Some might take pictures and start rumors. And…”
Cha-hyeon glanced briefly at the aide, then shrugged off the rest. The fact that Se-min had lost his memory was a closely guarded secret.
“Anyway, it’s better to keep things quiet.”
“Ah… got it.”
Come to think of it, Cha-hyeon was one of Korea’s most famous S-rank Espers. If he were spotted leaving a hospital for Awakened individuals, people would definitely start talking. The gossip-hungry public would jump at the chance to stir up wild conspiracy theories.
And since he’d even used a VIP room where patient names were hidden, it’d be ridiculous if he were caught catching a cab out front. Realizing all this, Se-min nodded in understanding.
Once they’d both changed, they were ready to go. True to the “VIP” label, they made it to the underground parking lot via a private elevator without running into a single person.
Waiting for them there was a sleek black sedan, engine already running. Another aide was standing by to open the car door for them.
Se-min fought to keep his twitching facial muscles in check. Seriously, I’ve seen this exact scene in a drama…
“Please, get in.”
“…Ah, thank you….”
With no time to mentally prepare for this rom-com scenario, Se-min kept stumbling. If someone had told him yesterday that new clothes would be delivered and a private ride arranged, well… okay, maybe he’d still be shocked.
Chaebol male lead—no, S-rank Esper—Cha-hyeon slipped into the car with ease and said,
“You don’t have to act like I’m the Director or something.”
Even in his flustered state, Se-min glanced at him again. It was clearly a considerate thing to say, but somehow, it still sounded arrogant. Maybe that was just how Cha-hyeon talked.
“What are you doing, Se-min? Aren’t you getting in?”
Still brusque, but noticeably softer than when he’d spoken to the aide.
Only now did Se-min realize that what had sounded curt before was actually pretty gentle—at least when directed at him.
+1
Current Favorability: 8%
The Favorability window popped up, and Se-min nearly did a double-take. He had to fight the urge to physically recoil in surprise.
You can’t go catching feelings just because someone talks to you a little nicer than everyone else, seriously.
Even as he told himself that, the truth was… Se-min hadn’t known until now that his type was “a man who treats everyone else like crap but acts differently around me.”
With his cheeks flushed, Se-min clamped his lips shut and climbed into the car. Cha-hyeon, who’d been holding out a hand to help him in, withdrew it with a faint smile.
+2
Current Favorability: 10%
Se-min cleared his throat and tried not to look at the status window. When his Favorability had been in the negatives, it dropped just from breathing, but now that it was in the positives, it was rising just from a damn hand gesture. Thank god only he could see the thing.
Cha-hyeon had said he didn’t have to act so formal, but both aides had already gotten into the car—the driver’s seat and the passenger seat. Se-min, still feeling self-conscious, straightened up stiffly.
Soon, the car exited the hospital and turned onto the main road.
The atmosphere inside was uncomfortably quiet.
With two aides giving him a full VIP rom-com escort from the front seats, and Cha-hyeon practically radiating presence beside him, the air inside the car was thick with tension. Even the sound of swallowing seemed too loud.
He didn’t know how long he sat like that, rigid and staring out the window, hands folded neatly in his lap. Maybe ten minutes had passed, maybe more. He’d just been watching the Han River roll by when a sudden thought hit him.
Wait. Where are we going?
I just got in because they told me to. Usually, after getting discharged, you’d go home, but… wait. Where do I live?
Se-min furrowed his brows, trying to claw through the vast, empty white space in his memory. The last place he could remember calling “home” was the multi-unit house where he’d lived with his grandmother as a child.
But that was from when he was just a kid, so faint it barely felt real. After that… what happened after that…?
No matter how hard he tried, the void offered nothing.
“……”
Wait. Se-min’s shoulders flinched. His memory loss was tied to everything involving Cha-hyeon. And from what he’d found online, the two of them had grown up together, practically as family.
That explained why he couldn’t remember where he lived—he probably still lived with Cha-hyeon.
Wait, does that mean… they’re living together?
So now, after finding out yesterday that he was engaged to this guy—who, let’s be real, was basically a stranger—he had to live with him?
And on top of that, he’d just decided to try developing feelings for the guy?
Stranger. 10% Favorability. A fiancé he’d agreed to “give it a shot” with. And now: cohabitation.
Just listing the words gave him whiplash. His face kept turning pale, then red again, in rapid succession.
…No way. Seriously?
