“….”
Though no one was watching, Se-min glanced around self-consciously, swallowed, and stepped into the tub. Thankfully, the instant the warm water touched him, a pained groan slipped out and he could forget the day before.
With a low mmph, Se-min sank up to his chin and let the heat work into his aches. A body that had felt stiff, as if he’d been beaten, slowly began to loosen.
“Ah, I’m gonna die….”
Muttering like some old man, Se-min ducked deeper and wiped the suds from his chin. After taking a muscle relaxant and getting into hot water, even the lingering sting seemed to be ebbing little by little.
But as the pain thinned out, only one thought kept drifting through Se-min’s mind.
…It was good.
Now that he was finally alone, it was only natural he found himself replaying last night.
It had gotten rough toward the end, but that was because Hyung didn’t know where to draw the line. If they stopped at the right point, maybe it would feel amazing without leaving his body sore. Once he was in decent shape again, should he ask to do it again? Hyung looked like he wanted to, too. And once he got the hang of it, he could try all those things he’d only ever imagined….
Grrrgle. Se-min slid even deeper under the foam. He’d only been wiggling his toes, and then—whap!—he smacked the bubbles for no reason. White foam speckled down toward his legs.
He really did it. Sex guiding…. The night before was when he’d actually tangled their bodies together and howled with pleasure, but only now did it truly hit him that he’d had sex guiding with Cha-hyeon.
His face flushed hot as that reality surged in all at once. As if on a delay, embarrassment came crashing now, swelling his chest until it felt like it would burst.
With both cheeks rosy, Se-min scratched the rim of the tub with his toes for no reason. So we really are dating. Once it sank in, his head went white and blank, just like when they did contact guiding.
“…Wow….”
Would this have been possible otherwise? A small question bubbled up in a corner of his heart. Meaning, if Cha-hyeon were his original self who hadn’t lost his memory. Se-min pictured Cha-hyeon greedily drawing out his guiding energy through sex guiding.
Hyung’s face—so provocatively sexy it made his own burn; that fearless, forward way he moved. If he’d done sex guiding with the fully intact-memory Cha-hyeon, would that Hyung have been just as assertive?
…That Hyung? Se-min sat up straight from where he’d been soaking. At some point the smile tugging at his lips had faded; he rubbed the back of his neck. Bubble-slick water clung to his skin.
“Doing it again.”
He kept treating Cha-hyeon like a separate person, even while telling himself he was the same as before. He used to shake his head—don’t think like that—and move on, but maybe because he was alone now, he finally looked into why he felt that way.
The answer came easily. The original Cha-hyeon and the memory-lost Cha-hyeon were, clearly, different.
The original Cha-hyeon, who overprotected him like a sandcastle that would crumble at a touch; and the memory-lost Cha-hyeon, who never hesitated to handle him a little roughly.
The original Cha-hyeon, who would never have shattered their Hyung–Dongsaeng bond that felt like family; and the memory-lost Cha-hyeon, who blithely suggested they date and talked about sex guiding.
The original Cha-hyeon, a gentle, reliable guardian; and the memory-lost Cha-hyeon, who acted cute and smiled at him with soft, crinkling eyes.
Can the same person be this different? The current Cha-hyeon made him wonder if this had been his hidden, true personality all along—and felt, in other words… like a twin. Identical in looks, different in temperament.
Reaching that conclusion, Se-min understood why he’d been treating the memory-lost Cha-hyeon differently from the Hyung he’d known. The man was showing him facets he’d never seen; of course he’d think of him differently.
But sometimes, even when you know the answer, a problem doesn’t resolve cleanly.
“…Huh?”
Se-min murmured blankly. Identical face, different temperament—like twins?
A sudden doubt struck him.
The one he’d loved had been the original Cha-hyeon Hyung, and yet the one he’d gone that far with was the Hyung who’d lost his memories.
…So who’s the person I ended up dating?
“Ugh!”
A strange chill crept along his back, making him shiver and raise his voice for no reason. He leaned against the tub wall with a posture that bordered on cocky and babbled.
“No. It’s not like I’m cheating or anything…. No, no.”
It only felt like twins; it’s not as if he’d actually turned into a different person. He’d taken a single person and let his imagination run to weird places.
And the current Cha-hyeon had said he’d actively cooperate to get his memories back, too. In the end, once his memory returned, Hyung would acknowledge that the Sung Cha-hyeon of that time was still himself.
Anyway, Se-min had loved Sung Cha-hyeon so much his whole life. Even if the memory-lost him felt like someone else, his feelings hadn’t changed.
“I should finish my bath and get out.”
Saying out loud what could’ve stayed in his head, Se-min rose from the tub. In the meantime, maybe the medicine had kicked in, because moving felt a lot easier. He dried off, got dressed, and stepped out. Air cooler than the bathroom greeted him.
He walked down the quiet hall toward the kitchen. In the silent house, only the faint scrape of his slippers on the floor echoed. It was so quiet he could hear the soft plink of a drop slipping from the faucet.
“…Hyung?”
Se-min’s brows rounded. He’d just realized there wasn’t a hint of any presence in the house besides his own.
***
“Esper Sung Cha-hyeon, aren’t you on leave until the end of this week? You really don’t have to come in…. I mean, we’d love you to clear Gates, of course, but you don’t have to do this many….”
The Gate site management staffer pleaded, but Cha-hyeon only gave a slight dip of his chin—barely listening at all.
In more ways than one, Sung Cha-hyeon was like a walking time bomb.
The strongest S-rank Esper in South Korea, and at the same time someone who might rampage at any moment—an unmistakably high-risk, high-return Esper.
Because of that, the higher-ups had been assigning him to the field on a regulated cycle. Mostly to critical types: Special-Type Dungeons that required small-entry teams, or high-grade dungeons where a major disaster was expected if they flooded. Not this business of riding the dungeon Gate merry-go-round.
“Are you sure… you’ll be okay?”
You couldn’t help but worry when the number of dungeons he’d registered for that very day was seven. And all of them were high grade, neatly spread out. Even for an S-rank Esper, the schedule was flat-out insane.
It made you wonder if he had something up his sleeve. Rumors were swirling that, as marriage talk with his pair partner, Ji Se-min, heated up, he’d dropped his vow of premarital chastity.
But a rumor was still just a rumor—nothing 100% certain. Word had also quietly spread that he’d collapsed after the last Gate clear, and something truly serious could happen. And the ones who’d have to take responsibility would be the site management team.
“Please, we really think you should reconsider….”
It was hard to believe this even got approved; the only result was the site manager’s face going chalk-white.
But Cha-hyeon, who had little interest in others’ positions, merely did some light stretching, as if to shake off all the hassle stuck to him.
The best condition since the day he was born. Having wrung his pair partner’s guiding energy out to the last drop, Cha-hyeon felt—without exaggeration—like he could solo an SS-rank Gate. The staffer’s cold-sweat fretting felt pointless; he was certain he’d clear every Gate.
And… he already found leaving the house a colossal bother, so he was starting to get irritated at the thought of wasting energy listening to the manager’s worries.
He was the type who, if assigned a job, would do it, but wouldn’t go hunting for missions himself. He had no idea how diligent the version of Sung Cha-hyeon who’d acted like a fool in front of his pair partner had been, but he wasn’t that guy.
The reason someone like him had come out to the field—foregoing even rolling around with his pair partner—was pure curiosity.
Cha-hyeon looked at his translucent, bluish status window.
~Unclaimed Rewards List~
♦ …??? ??… (?/?)
