His way of solving problems was always simple—if something annoyed him, he got rid of it. Straightforward, efficient, and ruthlessly effective.
“…Hyung… come out, hhh….”
“…Dungeon, come out… th-there… hurry….”
Then what was he supposed to do about his pair guide’s desire—Ji Se-min’s wish—to be with the original Sung Cha-hyeon?
Even he had to admit it was ridiculous to be agonizing over something like that. He knew exactly what kind of nightmares Se-min had, yet the only thing he’d done was to bite the hand that had tried to comfort him.
…….
If he’d followed his usual instincts, this would’ve been over in a heartbeat. He would’ve shaken Se-min awake and demanded an explanation.
What did you mean by that? “Come out of the dungeon”—what does that even mean? You said no matter which hyung I was, I was still the same Cha-hyeon, didn’t you? Were you actually missing the original me all this time?
Then, as always, Se-min would’ve flinched, shrunk back, and let him win.
But Cha-hyeon didn’t do that. Or rather—he couldn’t.
Why not? Was it because he was afraid to see the truth written on Se-min’s apologetic face?
If all he wanted was to keep Ji Se-min tied to his side forever, there’d be no reason for this kind of hesitation. It was a pointless worry—he could think of plenty of ways to achieve that.
And yet, Cha-hyeon lingered on this useless thought. Because… he wanted Se-min that much. Enough to dwell on something he’d normally never care about. He wanted Se-min’s body, his heart, everything that made him him.
It wasn’t just because Se-min was the only Guide who could perform Guiding for him anymore. Other emotions had seeped in—obsession, jealousy, lust, the pride of having taken all of his pair guide’s firsts, the possessiveness of refusing to let anyone else touch what was his, and a faint, aching uncertainty that stabbed at his chest.
All of it swirled together until even after peering into Ji Se-min’s Mindscape, he found himself compromising, yielding, doing things he couldn’t explain. Even while jealousy burned him from the inside out.
But in the end—it was he who had Se-min now. The original Sung Cha-hyeon was gone for good. That jealousy could be brushed aside as the indulgence of a victor. Once he decided on something, he made it happen, no matter what. That reckless certainty was part of who he was.
So then—what about Se-min?
The thought struck him out of nowhere, a question he’d never once considered.
Ji Se-min’s blind, pure devotion had always been rooted in his feelings for the original Sung Cha-hyeon. And for Cha-hyeon, who recognized that man as someone distinct from himself, that meant the love he now possessed wasn’t truly his own.
If Se-min ever realized that, how would he react? The Se-min who had said, No matter which hyung you are, you’ll always be my Cha-hyeon hyung—what would he do then?
Even if the original Cha-hyeon never returned, would Ji Se-min still love him with the same fierce intensity?
Or what if, even with this Cha-hyeon by his side, Se-min’s feelings faded first?
What if Se-min began to see him as someone entirely separate from the one he used to love?
Sure, he wouldn’t completely abandon him—he was still the only Guide who could perform Guiding for him—but what if Se-min started treating it as nothing more than a duty, something to just get through?
Believing that Se-min’s love would last forever was too uncertain. And Cha-hyeon had never liked uncertainty.
~Unclaimed Rewards List~
♦ …Clear Reward… (1/3)
That was when an idea struck him—troublesome, inexplicable, and irrational even by his own standards.
When he forced himself to suppress his temper, dull his emotions, and think only of the Clear, a new path appeared.
In Ji Se-min’s Mindscape, everything unfolded exactly as Se-min desired. From there, Cha-hyeon had learned what Se-min wanted most of all.
Peering into someone’s naked heart was a disgusting feeling—fucking revolting—but at the same time, it was like being handed the answer key to an exam.
He thought. He revised. He categorized each memory that had burned itself into his mind, preparing to use them at the right time.
To go along with Se-min’s wishes.
To act the way Se-min wanted.
To make sure that even if the original Cha-hyeon never returned, Se-min would never long for him again.
To recreate, in reality, the world Se-min had dreamed of.
If I can make him believe I’m enough—that I alone am enough—that’ll be enough for me.
***
He’d once heard bells ringing in his ears before. Back then, it was just the sound effect that played on a variety show when someone got betrayed—but this time, it was a real hallucination.
It was the kind of chime you’d hear in a Disney cartoon when the main characters sealed their vows with a kiss. That clear, bright sound echoed by Se-min’s ear as he stared blankly at Cha-hyeon’s smiling face.
Maybe it was because of what he’d just heard—a confession suggesting they should take their relationship to its final stage as lovers. That smile reminded him so much of the Cha-hyeon from before the memory loss that it made his chest ache.
Se-min swallowed hard. When Cha-hyeon suddenly said let’s get married, he hadn’t even known how to react. But as time passed, the words began to feel more and more real.
He’d said, Let’s get married.
His hyung.
To him.
Legally, as husband and husband.
Wow. Was this… a dream?
It wasn’t like Se-min had ever seriously thought about marriage before, but marriage between pair partners wasn’t rare. After the emergence of the Awakened, same-sex marriage and relationships had become completely normal. There were plenty of married pair partners.
Once his thoughts tilted in a positive direction, every reason why this made sense came tumbling after.
Sure, they hadn’t been dating long—but it wasn’t like they were ever going to break up. In Se-min’s mind, breaking up with Cha-hyeon or moving out on his own wasn’t even an option.
If they were going to spend their lives together anyway, then why not get married sooner? Their time as lovers might’ve been short, but they’d always known how well they matched. What’s really the difference between living together forever and being married? If anything, marriage felt even more binding, more permanent. Come to think of it, hadn’t they once said they’d date with marriage in mind?
And then there was the Unclaimed Rewards. As those slots filled, Cha-hyeon had told him he could faintly sense the feelings he’d lost for Se-min.
He’d said that even though it was strange at first—going from being like real brothers to being lovers—he’d accepted it. That maybe, if things had gone differently earlier, it might’ve happened long ago.
Those words had soothed the anxiety that Se-min had kept buried deep inside—the fear that once Cha-hyeon’s memories returned, he’d regret everything and push him away.
Of course, that fear hadn’t vanished entirely. A small, selfish thought whispered, If we’re legally married, maybe that’ll give me one more chance to hold onto him. Ending things as pair partners was one thing—but as a married couple? That was different. Maybe enough to make him stay.
Damn… that’s not bad. Actually, that’s pretty great. Sure, it was sudden—being proposed to before he’d even wiped the sleep from his eyes—but in the end, it all worked out, didn’t it?
“…Y-you think… so…?”
After a moment of internal panic and self-justification, Se-min finally spoke. The second his hesitant agreement slipped out, Cha-hyeon’s smile deepened.
Sunlight poured through the living room window, wrapping everything in a soft, bashful warmth. Both of them laughed awkwardly, and Se-min scratched at his cheek.
But… was that it? Just asking if they wanted to get married, saying yes, and done? Wasn’t that way too plain? Shouldn’t a proposal be more serious? More romantic? Becoming legally bound was a big deal, wasn’t it?
Se-min glanced down at himself—pajamas, messy hair sticking up in places. Then at Cha-hyeon—perfectly composed, as if he’d never gone to bed, but still oddly casual.
“Are you going to wash up before breakfast?”
“…Ah, uh, yeah… I will.”
Feeling weirdly unsatisfied, Se-min shuffled toward the bathroom. His dazed reflection stared back from the mirror.
“Ah.”
He murmured softly, finally realizing why he’d felt so restless inside.
“Wait… that was seriously a proposal, wasn’t it?”
He wasn’t exactly the romantic type, and he’d never imagined what a proposal might look like, so he didn’t have any specific dream about it.
But still—wasn’t a ring the bare minimum? Everyone else gave at least that much. But this…
After pining for over ten years and finally becoming lovers, Ji Se-min had just received the most low-effort proposal in history—no mood, no ring, no flowers, and, to top it all off, still had sleep crust in his eyes.
He stared blankly at his reflection.
“…Holy shit….”
