He stood still, staring blankly into the darkness of the house. With every curtain drawn tight, the room was enveloped in shadow. As his eyes gradually adjusted, he realized—there wasn’t a single trace of anyone else’s presence.
“……!”
With a sudden start, Cha-hyeon sat up violently, sheets rustling as he whipped his head around, hyper-alert.
Where’s Se-min? Where’s Se-min?
This wasn’t a Mindscape Dungeon. Not some illusion. Just a fucking dream filled with nothing but hopeless, crushing despair.
His gaze, unsteady and desperate, eventually landed on something sitting atop the kitchen table—a bouquet of flowers, lush and full.
Flowers. A proposal. Another Sung Cha-hyeon.
As the chain of images played in his head, Cha-hyeon quietly chewed over the thoughts. That’s when he noticed how uneven his breathing had become.
“Haa…”
Holding in a breath and slowly exhaling, he tried to steady himself. His jet-black eyes flicked toward the semi-transparent blue window.
~Unclaimed Rewards List~
♦ …Clear Reward… (2/3) – In Progress –
Cha-hyeon swept back his messy hair. Seeing that he was still in the middle of claiming the Clear Reward made the tension melt from his body. His voice, hoarse from sleep, escaped in a low mumble.
“When did I even fall asleep…?”
Maybe it was because his body and mind were both at ease now, but the tightness in his chest had faded. It had been a long time since he’d slept that deeply. His mind felt clearer than ever.
The burning behind his eyes was gone. That searing pain in his head, like hot metal pokers jabbing into his brain, had vanished.
He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and threw off the blanket, as if he was about to leap out of bed.
But the moment he realized he was still here, a suffocating sense of unease began to expand inside him.
“Se-min.”
Where is Se-min?
Rushing to get up, he didn’t even bother with slippers. The cold floor sent a strange chill through the soles of his feet.
Something in him screamed that he had to check if Se-min was okay. Even though he hadn’t gone back yet—this could all still be a lie.
His heart began to pound.
Moving at a fast, nervous pace, he headed to Se-min’s room. The door wasn’t fully shut. He pushed it open with a forceful shove.
“…Haa.”
Even in the darkness, he could see the rounded shape of a blanket pulled up high. The steady rhythm of breathing. The warm air.
And Se-min’s face—peaceful, fast asleep, completely vulnerable.
Cha-hyeon stood there, rooted to the spot, staring. Like he’d been nailed to the floor. After a long moment, he slowly reached for the door, intending to close it again.
But instead, his hand only tightened around the doorknob.
Under the pale lighting from the hallway, the veins on the back of his hand stood out starkly.
Se-min was safe. So now… should he start preparing to leave?
…Preparing to leave.
The words hit him like a physical weight in his chest. The anxiety and restlessness from earlier vanished in an instant, and a heavy, intangible pressure settled over him.
Just like the first time he’d returned, his face went blank.
He kept staring at Se-min.
His gut had been right all along.
He should’ve started planning to return the moment he’d made up his mind.
But he’d let himself linger. Just a little longer. Just one more moment. And because of that, all he’d learned was how desperately he didn’t want to go.
Cha-hyeon took a step back, as if trying to distance himself from his own hesitation.
He closed the door quietly behind him, took a deep breath, and exhaled until his head drooped.
Even if he was retired, Cha-hyeon had once been one of Korea’s top S-Rank Espers.
He didn’t need to think twice to know the best route for a clear—he could feel it in his bones.
Once he made a decision, he followed through without hesitation. But this time… he kept wanting to take it back.
“If I stay… what could I even do?”
He asked the question out loud, as if posing it to someone else.
If he stayed… couldn’t he do all the things he wanted to do for Se-min?
The excuse slipped out easily, sounding almost plausible.
What did I want to do, anyway?
…Cook him a meal, the one he always said he wanted.
…Watch him eat.
…Make sure he doesn’t get hurt.
“I already did all of that.”
Murmuring under his breath, Cha-hyeon revisited each regret.
His head knew it was just lingering attachment. But his heart still couldn’t let go.
So, for now, he moved.
Even if his heart was full of longing, his body—trained to follow protocol—began to move on its own, slow but steady.
He dragged his heels as he headed to the living room.
The sun had gone down little by little, plunging the space into darkness. He flipped on the lights, then made his way naturally to the study.
Like a machine going through a routine, he opened a drawer and pulled out a hidden pack of cigarettes.
I knew I left them here.
He reached for them reflexively—then stopped, lips parting in a quiet “ah” as he looked down at the pack.
“…I said I’d quit.”
The promise he’d made to Se-min echoed in his ears.
Se-min had asked him to quit, not just for his health, but for himself.
He’d thought maybe a cigarette would help calm the storm in his chest…
Fiddling with the pack, he muttered petulantly,
“Yeah. You’re the one who has to keep that promise.”
One by one, he snapped the cigarettes in half. Stuffing the uneven, jagged sticks back into the box, he closed it tight. The pack bulged like it was about to burst. With a mischievous grin, he tossed the ruined pack back into the drawer.
The soft thud it made as it hit the back wall gave his scattered mind a sliver of peace. But the smile quickly faded. His expression sank again.
He sat there thinking for a while—then suddenly remembered something.
“That’s right… I had something I wanted to say to that bastard.”
He shared the memories and emotions, sure. But to him, they felt like someone else’s story. Something that happened a long time ago.
Still, he had a feeling he knew what Cha-hyeon and Se-min would end up fighting about once he left.
Pretending he’d received an Unclaimed Reward. Lying that it made him realize his feelings. Proposing. From a distance, the whole thing looked absurd.
He could understand why he’d made that choice—but understanding didn’t make it any less stupid. Some things were just too dumb to justify.
He laughed quietly.
If he’d forgotten everything about Se-min, maybe he would’ve made the same dumb decision. That other version of himself really was still him. But still… After giving up this much, if that idiot went and ruined everything already…
He’d probably die of frustration. And yeah, maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad. But that wasn’t why he’d come back.
He thought about writing a letter—but changed his mind. Leaving it on the desk? No good. Hiding it where he stashed the cigarettes? Maybe. But chances were Sung Cha-hyeon wouldn’t find it. Putting it in the inventory? No way.
He knew himself too well. He barely even checked for Dungeon by-products.
In the end, he chose his palm. It wouldn’t be his body for much longer anyway.
Grabbing a thick black marker, he started writing.
He wanted to give advice—truly—but it was hard to fit something meaningful into the space of a hand.
He racked his brain, tried to recall how the other him had felt. Why he’d made that choice. What might help. Finally, after thinking it through, he wrote clearly and deliberately on his left palm.
“……”
He stared at the bold black letters, then let out a long sigh. He tossed the marker onto the desk and wiped his mouth with the hand he’d written on. Another sigh climbed up his throat.
“Time to go.”
He repeated the words to himself like a ritual. But he still hadn’t moved. Letting out a dry laugh at his own contradictions, he finally spoke his truth.
“God, I really don’t wanna go back…”
But what could he do? He’d already determined it wasn’t efficient to stay.
Even so…
If he was leaving, couldn’t he just see Se-min one last time?
Just one more look. That should be okay… right? …No.
If he stayed any longer, the attachment would only grow. And yet—
His feet were already carrying him back toward Se-min’s room. Retracing the exact path from the study, his steps were slow and full of hesitation. He stopped in front of the door.
Gulp.
He swallowed dryly. He held the doorknob—but couldn’t quite bring himself to turn it. Instead, he pressed his forehead against the door. The cool surface grounded him.
With S-Rank sensitivity, he could feel it—Se-min sleeping soundly just on the other side. As he listened to that soft, steady breathing, an impulse overtook him. That first idea he thought he could pull off.
What if he could be the perfect lover to Se-min? Just like the Cha-hyeon who’d lost his memories. Maybe the nausea from before had only hit because he hadn’t been ready.
His grip on the doorknob tightened. The door creaked open. Lit only by the faint glow from the living room, Cha-hyeon swallowed hard again.
Thump, thump, thump…
His heart pounded like a war drum.
In that deathly silence, he crept toward his younger brother.
Ji Se-min. His brother. The family he had to protect. Sung Cha-hyeon’s longest-standing guilt.
It only took a few steps to reach the bed.
His heartbeat surged, stabbing him in the chest. Cha-hyeon knelt before Se-min, eyes gleaming in the dark.
The scent of shampoo. The lotion Se-min used. A faint trace of his own cologne. His senses, dialed to Se-min, began picking up details even he usually missed.
“……”
A wave of tension seized him. His chest tightened like never before. The soft light from the hallway illuminated Se-min’s face. Cha-hyeon’s jet-black eyes dropped to his brother’s parted lips.
Could I really… do this?
Thump, thump, thump…!
His heart thudded painfully. It hurt, like invisible hands were clenching it tight. He felt nauseous. Warm breath trembling, he leaned in slowly. Lips drawing closer… almost touching…
His eyes shut tightly.
“…Ha… ha…”
And then, with a bitter chuckle, he let his head fall. Fine black hair tumbled forward. His shoulders shook, rising and falling in uneven rhythm.
“…Nnngh, hhf….”
Cha-hyeon sobbed silently, jaw clenched tight to keep from waking Se-min.
He knew it now. He really had no choice but to go back. He pulled in a hot, shaky breath and looked up. Red-rimmed eyes fixed on the one he would never see again.
“Take care.”
The whisper, soaked in longing and regret, trembled with tears. A clear droplet slid down his cheek.
“Let’s not meet again like this.”
He brushed Se-min’s pale cheek with a fingertip. And then changed his mind.
No. Even if it’s like this… I want to see you again.
He stared at Se-min for a long time. Then, awkwardly, lowered his head.
His lips brushed Se-min’s cheek—softly, barely there. It was all the courage he had. No one saw the smile that lifted his lips. But it was gentle. His tear-soaked lashes fluttered.
The tears flowed down his cheeks, one after another, falling onto the sheets in uneven drops…
…Reward Received
~Unclaimed Rewards List~
♦ …Clear Reward… (2/3)
