Seo Eui-woo swallowed his anguished sobs. It felt as if the wounds, torn open, were visible for all to see.
Kwon Jae-jin hadn’t waited for the Seo Eui-woo of the first timeline—far from it. He had resented him, feeling betrayed, thinking of him as the bastard who had erased his family and childhood memories. He had said that he could never have a proper relationship with the Seo Eui-woo of the first timeline.
At first, he had made a distinction between the first and second timeline, pushing back his bangs as if to separate the two. But at some point, even that stopped.
And with the Seo Eui-woo of the second timeline… he seemed to be getting along better.
It made him want to kill him.
That clueless little brat from the second timeline—just a twenty-year-old kid—who had no idea what Kwon Jae-jin and Seo Eui-woo had shared, who, oblivious to everything, kept pulling all kinds of fucked-up shit on Kwon Jae-jin. Every time he did, the urge to kill surged.
That crazy bastard—how dare he lick the membrane of someone’s fucking eyeball? And instead of falling to his knees and begging for forgiveness, he just let his abilities run rampant without even controlling them properly? He had no skill, no finesse, shoving in recklessly, slamming into Kwon Jae-jin’s colon without a hint of consideration—fuck. That son of a bitch. That worthless piece of trash…
When Kwon Jae-jin had nearly been torn apart by a creature after the security system was tampered with, he hadn’t cared about losing control—he had wanted to go back and tear everything apart.
That bastard. That brain-dead fucker. What the hell had he been doing, dawdling, leaving Kwon Jae-jin alone long enough to be spotted by another Esper? That lunatic, that dumb fuck, that insane piece of shit, that fucking—!
And more than anything else, the worst part of it all was that he had to sit here, trapped, watching everything unfold.
No matter what those two did… he couldn’t interfere.
He had wanted to go back. He couldn’t go back. No one could understand how unbearable that was.
He could only pray that the imbalance would be resolved as soon as possible. But for that to happen, Kwon Jae-jin had to guide Seo Eui-woo more. And for that, the two of them had to keep touching, keep pressing their bodies together. Even though his other self—his past self—was still undeniably him, even if it was only the last four years of memories that were missing, it was maddening.
“Jae-jin won’t forgive me.”
<Jae-jin… do you hate me that much?>
<So much that you can never forgive me again?>
<Even if that’s true, just hold on for now.>
“I thought that even if I went back, he would reject me.”
<What the hell… What am I even waiting for?>
<You’ll know when the time comes. It will be brutal.>
“I thought… I was just the past. That I was no longer needed. That he would just tell me to restore the twenty-year-old Seo Eui-woo and leave.”
<Jae-jin has never waited for me before, has he? This is a first for us.>
<You can be impatient. Just like I always was…>
“But what can I do? I want to go back.”
“…….”
“I just… I want to live with you, Jae-jin. No matter what.”
“…….”
“No matter how much resentment you throw at me, no matter how much you hate me, even if you’ve forgotten everything about me… I’m still—I’m Seo Eui-woo.”
“…….”
“I’m Seo Eui-woo.”
He wanted to do it himself.
The relationship. The love. The revolution.
He wanted to clear the path ahead so that Kwon Jae-jin, who had been forced to live in hiding as a mutant, could finally stand tall in the world. He wanted to make sure that, in this life, there would be no regrets.
He wanted to confess and atone for the last four years he had spent being a fucking fool.
He wanted to restore, with his own power, the family and childhood memories he had stolen from Kwon Jae-jin.
It had always been his responsibility.
To stay by Kwon Jae-jin’s side. To be there. Seo Eui-woo.
His gray eyes, dry without a single tear, looked like they were sobbing in anguish.
Even his calm voice sounded like a scream.
His vacant gaze, fixed on Kwon Jae-jin, howled with desperate longing and a blood-soaked obsession.
Seo Eui-woo had been waiting all this time.
Even now. Still.
Only for Kwon Jae-jin…
Seo Eui-woo clenched his grip around the arm he was holding. His fingers dug in so hard it hurt. Then, unable to restrain himself any longer, he yanked Kwon Jae-jin toward him. He locked his arms around him, caging him in, wrapping tightly around his waist and back. His strength, unchecked, made Kwon Jae-jin’s ribs ache as if they were about to snap.
“……It’s all meaningless now. Before I could even come back, you were already dead. And the foolish past version of me couldn’t even protect you.”
His grasp was painfully strong, yet the words he spoke carried the opposite meaning.
“It’s all… over.”
Seo Eui-woo, resigned, buried his face deep in Kwon Jae-jin’s nape and took a long, trembling breath. His cheek was both hot and dry. He wasn’t even crying. That only made him seem even more hopeless.
“So, Jae-jin…”
“…….”
“Should we just die together?”
His voice drifted into the void as he slowly raised his head.
With an empty expression, he leaned in toward Kwon Jae-jin. Unlike his usual, unhesitating nature, he pressed his lips against him like a ghost. His lower lip pressed down, teeth parting slightly. Kwon Jae-jin’s eyelids quivered violently.
“Ugh…”
It was just their lips touching, and yet, even that was enough to feel the sheer weight of Seo Eui-woo’s desperate longing. It crushed Kwon Jae-jin’s chest. He knew all too well what Seo Eui-woo wanted—because it was no different from what he wanted. There was no way he didn’t know what future Seo Eui-woo had been waiting for.
Because it was the very same future Kwon Jae-jin had once longed for with everything he had.
Seo Eui-woo clung to him, gripping his jaw with a hunger that bordered on desperation. His large hands pressed down against the curve of Jae-jin’s ear, fingers weaving through his hair, pulling, taking.
“Jae-jin… Jae-jin…”
Their lips met, and it felt like a fist had slammed into his heart. Their tongues tangled, and it was like a knife stabbing into his back. He felt crushed, trampled, broken into pieces, falling apart, shattering beyond repair.
Something they had both desperately longed for was crumbling, turning to dust, vanishing into nothing.
“I’m sorry… Eui-woo, I’m so sorry.”
“No, this is better. If we die here together… then that will be enough for me…”
Seo Eui-woo didn’t stop. He devoured Kwon Jae-jin like he was starving, like no amount of this could ever make up for the time lost. He pressed his lips against the corners of Jae-jin’s eyes, licked over his eyelids, kissed his cheeks and ears. He bit the shell of his ear, sucked at the skin, and then, as if marking his claim, sank his teeth into the nape of Jae-jin’s neck, leaving a deep imprint behind.
Kwon Jae-jin shook his head, gripping Seo Eui-woo’s shoulders.
“I… I was wrong. I never wanted to forget you.”
“I know. I know you had no choice.”
“But this… this is just too much…”
“Jae-jin, you did your best, every single moment. I know that—I’ve been watching you from here all this time.”
“Then why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t you say something? That I was the one who had forgotten? Why did you say nothing…?”
“I was going to. Once I went back, I was going to tell you everything. That was our promise from the start.”
“Ha…”
Kwon Jae-jin exhaled shakily, his head falling forward. Seo Eui-woo followed him, pressing their cheeks together. His soft, curling hair brushed against Jae-jin’s temple, light as a feather, but it cut through him like claws, like a predator ripping him open from the inside.
Seo Eui-woo ran his hands over him, memorizing the shape of him, pressing him into his palms like he wanted to carve him into his skin. His fingers traced over his back, down his waist—like he had wanted to do this forever, like he would never have the chance to do this again.
“Jae-jin, can’t you say it to me, too? I want to hear it.”
“Say what…?”
“That you love me.”
“…I love you.”
“Say, ‘Eui-woo, I love you.’”
“Eui-woo, I love you.”
“Promise me you’ll remember me next time.”
“I will. I’ll remember you, all of you.”
“Promise me you’ll think of me a lot. That when you go back, you’ll never forget me, you’ll love me, you’ll think of me often… that we could have been happy, too.”
“…Why… Why are you saying that now?”
“Why do you think? I’m the only one who can turn things back.”
“…What?”
His sharp brows furrowed. His dark eyes, turbulent like a storm, churned with agony and conflict.
Seo Eui-woo gathered his ability into one hand. The spiraling energy coiled tightly in his grasp, condensing into a swirling force.
The Seo Eui-woo from four years later could wield his power with far greater precision and strength than his twenty-year-old self. His control, his mastery—both had doubled. He was refined. Experienced.
“Jae-jin, you choose. Do you want to die here with me? Or… will you go back?”
A cruel choice was laid before him.
He wanted to ask what the hell Seo Eui-woo was talking about, but he understood immediately. Like a bolt of lightning splitting through his skull, the realization struck. The weight of the ultimatum crushed his throat.
It felt like standing on a high execution platform, the noose already tight around his neck.
“I can bring you back to life. But if I do… that’s the end for me. If I use my power for this, the passage will close. You’ll be stuck living with the Seo Eui-woo from the second timeline forever.”
“…….”
“Or, we can both stay here, never going back… just wandering through this passage, drifting from coordinate to coordinate like ghosts, until we reach the very end of time—and disappear together.”
“…….”
“What will you do…?”
Darkness.
Despair clouded his vision, and a dagger of hopelessness stabbed deep into his chest. As if he were being dragged down into the depths of a black river, sinking, drowning alongside Seo Eui-woo.
If he could at least cry, maybe he could let out some of this unbearable agony. But nothing came. Not a single tear.
This—this moment—was more unbearable than when his chest had been torn open, when his very core had been shattered, more than when he had been ripped apart by a collapsing gate. This was worse.
“…I…”
Caught between the crushing weight of his emotions and the uncontrollable surge of them, Kwon Jae-jin grasped Seo Eui-woo’s hand.
Seo Eui-woo let out a sharp, breathless laugh before shaking his head.
“No. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”
Kwon Jae-jin tightened his grip.
“Let’s go.”
“Are you stupid? You’re supposed to leave me behind and go back. That’s the choice you have to make.”
“I don’t care. Come with me.”
“You’re supposed to say goodbye, hold me one last time, kiss me, throw out a few poetic words, and then leave me. You’re supposed to go back to that clueless brat and live your life with him. That’s the obvious, correct answer. Isn’t it?”
“No. It’s not.”
“Then stop messing around and just—”
“Why… Why aren’t you doing what you’re supposed to? What the hell are you thinking? What the fuck are you trying to do?”
