“H-Hey! You can’t run away! If you do, you’ll have to get two hundred shots!”
Too lazy to stand, Cha-hyeon simply rolled to the side to avoid Se-min. Little Se-min, thinking even that was part of the game, burst into laughter.
Cha-hyeon rolled all the way to the end of the narrow living room and flopped onto his stomach. Se-min toddled over, syringe in hand. With his face turned toward the wall, Cha-hyeon answered listlessly.
“I’m dead.”
“No, you’re not!”
Se-min pounded at his back with both hands. He’d seen it somewhere before, so he even pressed down with clasped hands like he was doing CPR.
“Get up! You’re not dead! You’re alive! Please don’t die!”
“…….”
After thumping away for quite a while, Se-min was breathing hard. He hesitated, then climbed onto Cha-hyeon’s back and glued himself there. Fidgeting to settle in, he finally stretched his legs out and lay flat on top of him.
Flattened like the patty in a hamburger, Cha-hyeon raised his head. Giggling, Se-min clutched his clothes tight so he wouldn’t fall. Staring at the thick thatch of hair on the crown of the boy’s head, Cha-hyeon sighed again and slowly pushed himself upright.
“Hahp…!”
Startled, Se-min threw his arms around Cha-hyeon’s neck. Dangling like a koala, he was scooped up with one arm and set down on the sofa.
Cha-hyeon lowered his head to meet Se-min’s eyes. He’d forgotten it while they were playing, but Se-min had always been a little shy around this big Hyung.
When the boy’s cheeks flinched with a hint of fear, Cha-hyeon cupped the soft cheeks with both hands and kneaded them gently so it wouldn’t hurt. Se-min’s lips popped forward like a duck bill.
“Baby. Go play by yourself, okay? Be good.”
Don’t bother me. His lips twitched with the rest of the thought, but he swallowed the words that had risen to his throat and turned away.
***
11:30 a.m. Only when the sun was high did Se-min finally open his eyes—and for the first time in a long while, he found himself thinking objectively about Cha-hyeon’s personality.
Had he just known him for too long? Or had years of being smothered by Cha-hyeon’s overprotectiveness airbrushed his memories?
As he compared the Hyung he used to know with the Hyung who’d lost his memories, his thoughts circled back to what the original Cha-hyeon had really been like.
He’d always thought of him as playful, kind, and dependable—but on second thought, the old Cha-hyeon’s character wasn’t exactly spotless. Not “bad,” per se, but… impish. Maybe more that he didn’t care about other people’s eyes on him.
Thinking of how suspiciously poor his old reputation had been, Se-min shifted his gaze to the reason these thoughts had come up.
Hyung’s going to an interview ^^/
This is a present for you, Se-min ^^✿ hehe
…Next to that note sat a neatly wrapped set of five white cotton briefs.
“Has he lost his mind…?”
Muttering something rough, Se-min cradled his throbbing head. He was a bit drained from the guiding the day before, and clinging to him nervously had kept him up late, so he wasn’t in top shape—but the pain in his skull didn’t feel like it was from that.
Right. My underwear tore during guiding. I couldn’t exactly go without anything underneath… but still, this kind of insane gift…
“I figured your underwear would be white cotton. It’s babyish and cute.”
Se-min scrubbed his flushed face with both hands. When had he even found time to buy this? If he was going to get some anyway, he could’ve picked something normal.
After rubbing his dry face until his skin went past hot to prickly, he came up with another plan.
It’s a hospital, so there’ll be a convenience store. I can buy different underwear there. Hospital convenience stores sell pretty much every daily necessity. I can’t go commando, so I’ll just wear these while I go buy new ones.
Comforting himself, he washed up and shuffled down to the store with a vaguely stiff gait. But there was one thing he hadn’t considered: in a hospital full of Espers/Guides, buying new underwear under a cloud of curious stares took more courage than you’d think.
“…….”
In the end, he came back with only a triangle kimbap and an orange juice. On any other day, he probably would’ve bought them without a second thought. But after what had happened the night before—and now that he’d learned about the anonymous Esper/Guide community site—he hesitated.
In a hospital packed with Espers/Guides, it felt like it wouldn’t even take a day for rumors to spread about what he’d bought. His hand just wouldn’t reach for the underwear.
Just hold out a little. Worst case, I can pop home and change. Se-min did his best to ignore the weird sensation of wearing triangle briefs for the first time since he was a kid.
After sweating bullets, lunchtime rolled around. He’d planned to make do with the triangle kimbap, but as soon as he finished it, a caregiver meal arrived.
That worked out, since one kimbap hadn’t filled him up. Maybe because it was a spacious VIP single room, there was even a two-person table so the caregiver could sit comfortably and eat.
As he set the dishes and sat down, the clock across from him showed it was almost one.
At 1:00 p.m., the Association’s official announcement would come out. He thought about watching the briefing on his phone, then decided the big screen would be better and turned on the TV.
On YouTube’s main page, a live interview was trending. He used the remote to click into the broadcast.
The hum of reporters, the snap of camera shutters, even a request over the PA to maintain order—listening to the TV’s background noise, Se-min started eating and, out of habit, checked his phone.
“Baby. Don’t use your phone while you eat.”
For a moment, he could almost hear stern old Cha-hyeon’s voice. He paused mid-chew, then slowly started working his jaw again.
Gulp. The food, softened like porridge, slid down his esophagus. After mechanically sipping a few spoonfuls of soup, he set the spoon down.
I just checked real quick to see if there were any messages. And it’s not like I’m eating with Cha-hyeon… Besides, if it were him, he probably would’ve texted before going into the interview.
But there were no messages on his phone. Must be busy. Makes sense—he’s lost his memories and still has to do an interview; of course he’d be tied up.
Sticking to his original intent, he set the phone down again, picked up his chopsticks, and ate a slice of pink sausage. His cheeks worked slowly as he chewed.
“…….”
Deputy Chief Jeong had told the truth. The hospital food here was really bad.
As he forced down the bland, watery meal, one o’clock finally arrived.
Right on the dot, the ticker at the bottom of the TV changed. The murmurs died down, and just as a hush seemed to settle, the room filled with the intermittent pop of camera flashes.
Deputy Chief Jeong, attending as the Association’s representative, and Cha-hyeon walked out. Se-min, who had been trying to choke down the tasteless food, set his utensils aside and fixed his eyes on Cha-hyeon following behind Deputy Chief Jeong.
On TV, dressed in black formalwear, Cha-hyeon looked like a movie star in a war film—slicked-back black hair, skin pale in contrast, sharp features, and an impassive mouth.
He looked nonchalant as usual, but Se-min could tell right away that his mood was actually quite good.
The shadows around his eyes had lifted, and his body seemed light. The usual signs of fatigue were gone. Was that thanks to last night’s guiding?
With his cheeks faintly flushed, Se-min couldn’t help the silly smile tugging at his lips. Even if he’d given that ridiculous present, the basics didn’t change: Se-min liked—no, loved—Cha-hyeon far too much. And with the guiding’s effects showing so clearly, as his pair partner, he couldn’t help feeling proud.
The two on-screen sat side by side. After a brief greeting, Deputy Chief Jeong lowered his gaze and began to read steadily from the white sheet in his hands.
— Thank you for making time to attend. I’ll give a brief overview. Yesterday at 13:00, the C-rank dungeon gate we designated as the “Bukhansan Special-Type Grade Mutation Dungeon Gate Case”…
As he summarized what had happened, bright white flashes intermittently washed over Deputy Chief Jeong’s face.
— We’re exploring multiple possibilities for the cause of the mutation. However, with a recent uptick in undefined, unknown gates, and given previous cases where a dungeon’s rank was reassessed after entry, the Association is lending weight to the hypothesis that this gate’s mutation falls along similar lines.
