The Smell of Something Fishy Chapter 8.2

I want to covet time, overlap days, and ultimately share a life… even if it’s just a small part of that life, I want to share it with him.

The most primal and intense emotions awakened on their own, without ever being taught.

“I like this person.”

I found something I wanted to do. I wanted to watch dramas he wasn’t interested in together with him, and I wanted to go out with him anywhere.

What would it have been like to watch a movie, seen late on television, with him in a theater? What would it feel like to hold hands, share our bodies, or kiss in a place other than home?

My unconscious must have struggled desperately to suppress the growing volume of questions. The desire to “be together” finally broke through that dam. Yeonseo knew what he wanted to do with him.

Love.

I want him to like me. I want him to say it’s okay even if I’m the unimpressive Park Yeonseo.

I wanted to have sex because of love, not because of a debt. I wanted to text him without a reason and call him not just to ask permission to use the bathroom.

Once I realized it, the desire overflowed so much that I wondered how I had ever held it back.

“…Please go on a date with me.”

Please like me.

“Hmm. Well, alright.”

Tae Shinju tilted his chin as if playing coy. In the kiss that followed, the corners of his mouth were turned up.

Yeonseo pulled him into an embrace. He held and was held, yet still wanted to press their bodies closer.

There was a truth that hit him clearly.

I will probably live knowing only this person for a long time. Surrounded by the illusion he left me with.

That was the true debt and shackle Tae Shinju had placed on me.

Laughter came. Uncontrollable chuckles kept slipping out, like coughing. It was a first love that suited me terribly well.

It was a precious feeling.

Because it was precious, I decided not to speak of it. At least this heart was mine. Unburdened by any debt,

Entirely my own.

🕷️

Realization was just realization; Yeonseo’s daily life remained unchanged afterward. If anything, the only difference was that understanding why he was drawn to him brought some peace of mind.

It was evening.

“Yes.”

Tae Shinju answered a phone call during dinner. Yeonseo, eating across from him, paused while reaching for a nearby side dish. He worried that the clink of tableware might be too loud, but at the same time, he felt a quiet thrill because Tae Shinju no longer left the table to take calls and answered them in front of him.

Still, he didn’t want to give the impression that he’d stopped eating because of the call, so he chewed the food in his mouth slowly.

Fortunately, it seemed he’d managed to play nonchalant. Tae Shinju, meeting Yeonseo’s eyes, gestured toward the side dish with his eyes. Eat up.

Yeonseo pulled his chin in to signal he was eating. Tae Shinju responded with a playful tone.

“Yes, Doctor. My memory… No, nothing else has come up since then.”

Huh?

“Memory?”

It was an unexpected, even baffling topic. It sounded as if there was something wrong with his memory… a deeply strange nuance that left Yeonseo flustered.

“Hmm… I see. It looks like your business trip will be a long one. …Yes. No, it’s not urgent, so it’s fine.”

Tae Shinju listened to the other person for a while, then raised one eyebrow. There was a hint of displeasure in his expression. Yeonseo, stealing a sideways glance, got caught by the man himself. He quickly lowered his eyes, but it was too late.

With his gaze down, Yeonseo couldn’t see what expression Tae Shinju was making. But the voice that followed wasn’t bright either.

“…Tonight, you say?”

“What’s happening tonight?”

“Well… alright. I’ll be waiting.”

The call ended with a brief greeting. Had it lasted a minute? It was a very short call, but it was enough to plant a heap of question marks in Yeonseo’s mind that he couldn’t resolve alone.

“A guest will be visiting in an hour.”

Contrary to Yeonseo’s worries, Tae Shinju didn’t scold him. Instead, he briefly explained the situation. It felt like consideration for his housemate.

Yeonseo gauged his mood for a moment before cautiously asking.

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping. But… are you unwell?”

“No, it’s not that.”

Tae Shinju slightly furrowed his brow, glanced elsewhere briefly, then spoke as if choosing his words carefully.

“I’m, let’s say, tinkering with my memory.”

“What…?”

Tinkering with memory? What does that mean?

He’d mustered the courage to ask, hoping to clear up his doubts, but somehow more questions piled up.

Tae Shinju, perhaps finding Yeonseo’s openly confused expression amusing, explained further in a tone mixed with laughter.

“Here. They say there’s a blank spot somewhere in my head. It’s about some memories I lost as a child… No, it’s not serious, so don’t misunderstand. Anyway, I recently got curious and started looking into what I’d lost.”

“Oh… your memory…”

“I figured you’d react like this, so I was vague about it, but you’re right on cue. It’s really not a big deal, so you don’t need to look like I’m about to die. It’s a memory I could find or not find, and I’ve lived just fine without it so far.”

As he said “here,” he tapped his temple with his index finger. He spoke as if telling Yeonseo not to make a fuss, but Yeonseo wasn’t skilled enough to manage his expressions as smoothly as Tae Shinju.

“There’s something wrong with his memory?”

From every angle, this man seemed perfect. Even now. He didn’t feel at all like someone who’d lost memories. The casual tone suggesting it wasn’t a big deal was probably sincere too.

Even so, Yeonseo couldn’t help but worry. As far as he knew, memory loss was usually the result of some cause. In other words, it was hard to shake the assumption that a significant incident had preceded the memory loss.

“I… see…”

Yeonseo pressed his fist against his racing heart. Don’t overreact. Don’t overreact. He tried to calm himself, but it didn’t work well.

Tae Shinju looked at him with a strange expression.

“Why’s he so jittery?”

As if his husband had been hurt… cute.

“Yes. Well, for that reason, the doctor is stopping by. He’s going on a long business trip soon and wants to try once more before that. He’s probably concerned about the treatment interval getting too long.”

Tae Shinju wasn’t expecting to find the memory in one go, nor was there a rush, but since the doctor was eager, it was only right to go along with it, he added, unusually verbose for him.

Yeonseo blinked to show he understood, then lowered his eyebrows.

“Have you… tried to recover your memory before?”

“Didn’t I mention? That day was the first attempt. The day you got that.”

He waved the hand holding his chopsticks.

The day I got punched.

“…!”

At the forced recollection, Yeonseo’s face flushed hot. The memory he’d tried so hard to push down rose to the surface effortlessly.

How could he forget the moment Tae Hyunwoong talked about sterilizing his genitals? The outrageous sex?

“Yes. Now that I think about it, I got your call right after the first treatment. Park Yeonseo, you disobeyed me and peed without permission, so I rushed over excitedly. Thinking about what punishment to give.”

“So it was right after a treatment.”

Yeonseo recalled his hoarse voice from that time. It was the day he got his first “assignment,” desperate to use the bathroom but unable to reach Tae Shinju, who wasn’t answering his phone.

In that dizzying moment, the call finally connected. The rough, low voice came through the phone, a tone rarely heard unless he’d just woken up or was fully immersed in sex, making Yeonseo listen intently without realizing it.

Yeonseo rubbed his hot cheeks with the back of his hand.

“May I ask… what kind of memory it is?”

“No reason you can’t.”

Tae Shinju began the story without any sign of discomfort.

“My family… you know Geumwoong’s roots are in a gang, right?”

“Yes.”

“It was about fifteen or sixteen years ago. By then, Geumwoong had already risen to the level of a conglomerate, and its gangster colors were nearly gone. But since its roots were what they were, the gang elements hadn’t completely disappeared, and some factions stubbornly wanted to maintain that group.”

In short, it was a conflict caused by the Geumwoong Group’s chairman, a thorough businessman, trying to absorb the remaining gang factions. Tae Shinju got caught in the middle of the chairman’s efforts to erase the gang’s influence and the remaining factions’ resistance, suffering for it.

“Just bad luck.”

Tae Shinju summed up the situation briefly. As Yeonseo listened to the calm explanation, a sense of déjà vu gripped him.

“No way…”

He knew it wasn’t true, but the suspicion kept rising.

“Could Hyung have lost his memory too?”

F FacetuneFifteen years ago. Yeonseo didn’t know Hyung’s exact age, but if he were alive and aging, he’d be in his late twenties or thirties, right?

Just like Tae Shinju.

“If Hyung is Tae Shinju…”

Oh. How would I even look at this face then?

His hands trembled. The fingers gripping the chopsticks visibly shook.

Tae Shinju let out a wry laugh.

“I’m the one who had the accident, so why is Park Yeonseo shaking?”

“No, it’s not… I…”

“It’s fine. I told you, it’s not an important memory. I forgot the pain of the accident along with the memory. You don’t need to worry.”

“…”

“Let’s finish eating.”

He was right.

“It’s probably just my imagination.”

Yeonseo forced his stiff fingers to move. But that was as far as he got. For the rest of the meal, he couldn’t take his eyes off the face across from him.

The doctor arrived exactly one hour later. Yeonseo, unable to calm down, paced the living room. He was so restless that Tae Shinju sat him on his lap to keep him still.

Cradled sideways in his broad embrace, Yeonseo fidgeted, and the man rested his chin on Yeonseo’s head.

“Park Yeonseo, you’re so empathetic. Worrying about pain even I don’t know.”

“I’m worried… that you’ll get hurt again.”

“Then just stay with me.”

“What?”

Yeonseo asked in surprise. Tae Shinju pinched Yeonseo’s cheek.

“Why so shocked? Don’t you want to see me?”

“N-no. No, I do. I want to see you.”

“Good. You’re scaring me so much I’m terrified, so you’d better stick to my side. If I cry, don’t tease me—comfort me. Here.”

With a sly smile, he pinched Yeonseo’s nipple.

Yeonseo blushed but made his intentions clear.

His joke somehow calmed Yeonseo’s heart a bit. If Tae Shinju could recover his memory, or even just a hint of it, the strange déjà vu and anxiety might settle too.

The doctor appeared from the elevator, accompanied by a bodyguard.

“Thank you for agreeing to this on such short notice.”

“I’m the one who should be grateful. You’re going out of your way.”

The doctor was a middle-aged man with graying hair. Dressed neatly in a dress shirt and pants without a lab coat, he could pass for a professor or someone in another profession.

Yeonseo greeted him from Tae Shinju’s side.

“Hello.”

“And this is…?”

Jung Seok-hyun looked at Tae Shinju with a surprised expression.

“My housemate. Park Yeonseo.”

“I see. I’m Jung Seokhyun.”

Yeonseo shook the outstretched hand. Tae Shinju watched the handshake closely and said.

“Is it alright if Park Yeonseo sits in on the hypnosis session?”

His deep-set eyes widened slightly. Jung Seok-hyun replied with a bright expression.

“Of course. If it’s someone you’re comfortable with, there’s no restriction on their presence.”

“Good. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to begin.”

“This way.”

They headed to Tae Shinju’s bedroom. Yeonseo found it unexpected. He’d thought they’d go to the study…

Though he hadn’t explained it to Yeonseo, Tae Shinju had initially considered the study. The decision to switch to the bedroom was influenced by the last session. Tracing back from childhood had been a good approach, but Tae Shinju’s consciousness was tougher than expected, making it hard to access deeper unconscious layers.

So, they’d decided to try the next session in a familiar place to help him relax. It would’ve happened at home anyway. The study had been the initial choice, but he changed his mind. Since he’d been spending more time in the bedroom lately, it seemed the better option.

The bedroom was dimly lit, with only a low-intensity floor lamp on. It wasn’t so dark that you couldn’t see.

“Too dark?”

“It’s fine.”

Yeonseo thoughtfully brought a chair and placed it beside the doctor.

“Here, sit.”

“Thank you.”

Tae Shinju lay on the right side of the bed. Yeonseo, assuming he’d lie there, naturally placed the chair on the right. He didn’t notice Tae Shinju’s faint smile.

“When you’re ready, signal me.”

“Yes. Yeonseo, over here.”

“Oh… okay!”

Yeonseo climbed onto the left side of the bed.

“Should I lie down?”

Unsure what to do, he knelt, but Tae Shinju casually placed a hand on Yeonseo’s thigh and closed his eyes. Yeonseo tensed, wondering if the doctor would think it strange.

“Ready.”

“…Alright. Take a deep breath in, then out.”

The doctor, at least, was professional enough not to let his eyes wander unnecessarily. Following his instructions, Yeonseo held his breath too.

“Hypnosis therapy, he said.”

What kind of treatment would it be? His imagination was too limited to picture it clearly.

Tae Shinju’s breathing steadied. Jung Seok-hyun spoke softly.

“You were hurt in body and mind by the betrayal of someone you trusted and returned to Korea. Time passed, and your broken hand healed. The pain is gone now. Let’s go to the day after you were fully healed. Where are you?”

Yeonseo’s pupils shook violently. Betrayal by someone trusted. Pain in body and mind.

He said it was an insignificant memory.

“Liar…”

His pain hurt like it was Yeonseo’s own. Yeonseo focused on Tae Shinju’s lips. The well-shaped lips moved slightly.

“…The spring…”

“The spring?”

Déjà vu. The déjà vu he’d been ignoring surged back. The doctor skillfully continued his questions.

“Which spring? What are you doing there?”

“…Exploring the neighborhood. The hillside slum. Gangster punks… they’re following me. They gather at the spring. It’s the only open space.”

“The gangsters gather at the neighborhood spring. They’re exploring the hillside slum. What’s their goal?”

Gasp…

Yeonseo covered his mouth with both hands. The spring. The hillside slum. Gangsters. Were those three keywords really so common?

Tae Shinju furrowed his brow, looking displeased.

“To drive out… the residents. Because of redevelopment…”

Yeonseo’s breathing grew rough. The doctor’s glance brushed him, but Yeonseo could only stare at Tae Shinju, eyes full of confusion.

“Redevelopment. Were you also used to drive out the residents?”

“…Yes.”

His legs gave out. He braced his hands on the bed, trying to hold onto reason.

The conversation, excluding Yeonseo, continued.

“Yoon Cheolgon, that bastard… always ignoring me.”

His tone felt oddly youthful. A grumbling tone that didn’t suit him. To Yeonseo, it was all too familiar. From dreams, from memories, surfacing when he least expected it.

“Who is Yoon Cheolgon?”

“…The boss of Geumwoong Loans…”

“Boss Yoon. Baek Heonjae, Shin Dongwoo, and Yoo Hyungsik, who were bodyguards, were originally with Geumwoong Loans, weren’t they? Are they with Yoon too?”

“Yes.”

“How do they react to you confronting Yoon, the boss?”

“…They don’t even look at me…”

“Why does Yoon, the boss, ignore you?”

“He says I’m a naive young master…”

Yoon, the boss, and Baek Heonjae. A short, stout man and the tall figure following him.

The unforgettable shouts and the cold, angry gaze of Hyung. The pharmacy and the jelly. The jelly container, worn out over time.

As the final piece fell into place, old memories flashed by like a montage.

Drip. Drop.

Tears burst forth before his mind could register them. His vision blurred. His ears grew muffled, and soon the man’s face became hazy. In a world faded to white, it wasn’t the twenty-one-year-old Park Yeonseo who remained, but a six-year-old child.

“…You were alive.”

Hyung.

Screech…

An impossible auditory hallucination rang in his ears. A cold wind that shouldn’t be felt scraped his cheeks. Suddenly, his nose stung, and a vividly real past overwhelmed the present.

The young Yeonseo stood in front of a filthy container.

—Hyung!

A man staggered out of the container’s entrance and collapsed toward Yeonseo.

—Ugh…

—A-are you okay? Are you hurt? Hurt?

Trying to support the large body, Yeonseo was nearly crushed and fell over. He struggled to lift him, but the man was as massive then as now, and with his hands bound behind him, he pressed down on Yeonseo with his whole body, making it impossible for Yeonseo’s feeble strength to even prop up one shoulder.

—Calm down… Did you see anyone while coming here?

—No, I didn’t see anyone. No one at all.

The smell of blood…

An unmistakable, acrid metallic scent filled the air. The blood seeping from the man’s wounds stained the areas where they touched, and soon Yeonseo reeked as if he were drenched in it himself.

—B-blood, blood…

Yeonseo spread his palm into the dark void, fidgeting with his blood-soaked hand. It looked black in the night, but the wet sensation and ominous smell were enough to stoke a child’s fear.

—Hng… Quiet. Good boy. Shh…

—U-uh, shh.

Only the pained groans of the man. The sight of him, always so towering, now collapsed and struggling on the ground, paralyzed Yeonseo’s fear.

Barely escaping from under the man, Yeonseo paused while trying to untie his bound hands.

—H-handcuffs…

Silver handcuffs were binding him. He wanted to help somehow, but reality never made things easy for Yeonseo.

For a moment, he sulked dejectedly. Then, something oddly out of place caught his eye. Upon closer inspection, the pinky finger was missing. Yeonseo was so shocked his heart nearly leapt out, and he fell on his backside right there.

—H-Hyung! Y-your finger!

—Shh…

—Don’t die. Please don’t die.

His lips twisted, and his face crumpled as sobs broke out. Be quiet. Hold it in. Don’t cry. His mind screamed, but he couldn’t stop.

He was scared. Scared that Hyung would die.

Even though he didn’t fully understand what real death was.

Yet Yeonseo dared to speak of death. The terrifying fear he felt now seemed like death itself. He was certain that if he left things as they were, he’d never see Hyung again. He couldn’t explain it precisely with his limited words, but it felt different from when his mother left.

That must be why tears poured out, unlike when his mother left home.

—Th-the blood, there’s too much blood.

The courage Yeonseo mustered was not fleeing despite crying. That was the most he could manage.

—Ah! A h-handkerchief.

The realization hit like lightning. His trembling hands fumbled frustratingly as he pulled out the handkerchief. Yeonseo just felt relieved. He hadn’t known he’d return it like this, but he was glad he always carried it.

Clumsily, he wrapped the handkerchief around the wound. The once-clean cloth began to darken from one spot.

The man remained silent.

—Wh-what should I do?

—…

—…Hyung?

No.

His heart pounded wildly. Even the tears stopped. He was anxious. Lost. Before he knew it, Yeonseo was shaking the man.

—Hyung, Hyung. You can’t die. It’s too cold here, can you get up… Hah!

Startled, Yeonseo fell on his backside again. The spot where the man lay was soaked with blood. It wasn’t just what had stained Yeonseo; it kept seeping out.

It seemed he’d exhausted all his strength escaping the container.

Yeonseo didn’t know how he ended up wounded and dying. Or why he had to suffer like this.

Pushing all questions aside, Yeonseo wiped his tears. He wanted to save the man. To do that, he had to do something.

The best option would be to carry him straight to a hospital. Sadly, that was impossible. The next best thing was to run and get the police or an adult.

—Hyung.

He was still silent. Yeonseo brought his fingers to the man’s nose. A faint breath tickled them.

—I’ll get the police. So please… just hold on a little.

The man, motionless until then, curved his narrowed eyes slightly.

—Don’t… cry, I said… You’ll look… ugly.

A hoarse, broken voice. Not the usual voice of Hyung. Yeonseo quickly wiped the tears spilling again with both arms.

—I’ll be right back!

He ran without looking back. It was probably the hardest he’d ever run in his life.

His heart felt like it would burst. His mother had told him not to run recklessly, but all Yeonseo could think of was Hyung.

In the end, choosing to find the police first was the right call.

If you’re hurt, go to the hospital. Yeonseo knew that much. He also remembered where the hospital was. But he chose the police because they were closer.

—Hyung’s dying!

It was a police station quite far from the neighborhood. Yeonseo burst in, screaming at the top of his lungs.

—What’s…

—Hyung, his finger’s cut off, handcuffs, handcuffs, blood, so much blood.

Please save Hyung…

A blood-soaked child, panting and babbling incoherently, startled the officers, who gathered around Yeonseo.

Yeonseo clutched his chest.

—Hah…

His chest hurt. His breathing wouldn’t calm. Worried they might not understand, he repeated himself.

Save Hyung, please.

After several repetitions, the police sprang into action. A young man nearby caught Yeonseo as he nearly collapsed.

—Hah, hah.

—Kid, are you okay?

—Save Hyung, hah, save…

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump!

His heart felt like it would break. Yeonseo’s vision blurred.

—Kid?

—Hng…

No. He couldn’t stop here. Hyung was in danger.

Yeonseo desperately clung to him.

—C-con, tain, er. Con, tainer, hah!

—Officer Lee, go.

The response came from someone else. An older officer sitting further in.

—Sir?

—Up there, turn left at Nari Supermarket, pass the public restroom, then turn right. Before the abandoned factory, there’s a cluster of container buildings. Check it out.

—Yes, sir!

Luck was on his side.

Someone understood…

The young officer rushed out. Only then did Yeonseo register the surging pain.

—Hah, hah, hah…

His heart ached like it was tearing, and tears welled up uncontrollably.

It hurt. It was painful. He couldn’t breathe.

—…Kid?

Someone seemed to call him, but Yeonseo couldn’t move. His ears rang, and sounds around him echoed as if underwater.

Hah, hah. Hah.

All that was clear was the pounding of his heart and his frantic breathing.

He needed to get up and check on Hyung. Tell him it’s okay now. He resented his body for not moving as he wanted.

Hyung… are you okay?

If he could, he wanted to ask.

That was all…

Where the illusion faded, Tae Shinju lay calmly. Yeonseo quietly left the bedroom and headed to the bathroom. Fearing his tears would be noticed, he splashed cold water on his face. His flushed face looked ugly.

That day, fainting at the police station was the last of it. When he woke, he was in a hospital, and his father sat there with a tired face. It was the first time he’d seen him in a while.

—Yeonseo. I told you Daddy’s struggling. You can’t act out like that again.

Don’t ask anything. His wrinkled face pressured Yeonseo.

—And we’re moving next week.

—What?

—Pack the things you care about when we get home. Understand?

He understood but didn’t want to accept it. He wanted to wait at least until he heard Hyung was safe.

As always, reality moved against Yeonseo’s wishes. Hyung didn’t appear in the neighborhood until the day Yeonseo left.

Whether he returned later or any rumors spread, Yeonseo never knew. The hillside slum became a trace existing only in his dreams.

After crying for a while, a shy smile broke out.

“I see… Tae Shinju, you really are…”

Hyung.

Yes. That’s why I was so helplessly drawn to him. My subconscious knew. It was him.

The exit to the maze I’d been searching for all along…

🕷️

“We used the bedroom, but it didn’t have as much effect as expected.”

Tae Shinju, finishing the second session, sounded dissatisfied. It was after the doctor left.

Yeonseo, with mixed emotions, avoided his gaze. He felt he might cry foolishly if he kept looking at him.

“It seemed… like there was some progress.”

“I recall bits and pieces. But it’s superficial… like I’m circling the core event without reaching it, understand?”

“Oh…”

“I said there’s no rush, but it’s frustrating when it comes back so slowly.”

His frustration was somewhat understandable. Had Tae Shinju, so determined in his endeavors, ever had to wait so passively for something so slow?

From what Yeonseo could gather, he recalled mainly the reasons for entering the slum or confronting his adversaries. It definitely wasn’t about Yeonseo.

That made sense. His connection with Yeonseo was trivial, unrelated to his work, and Yeonseo wasn’t even an important figure.

“I… see.”

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t disappointed. But knowing Tae Shinju was alive and by his side now made him happy enough.

“Happy…”

Had he ever consciously recognized happiness before?

He was lucky. His first love was Tae Shinju.

“Tae Shinju.”

Yeonseo savored the familiar name anew. Tae Shinju. Tae Shinju… That’s the name.

The more he repeated it, the deeper the emotion.

In retrospect, he’d glimpsed the face hidden under the mask. The side of his face had peeked through while he was collapsed.

His nose suddenly stung.

“No… Calm down.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes?”

Tae Shinju grabbed Yeonseo’s chin and turned it toward him. Before Yeonseo could resist, their faces aligned.

Drip, drop.

Despite his efforts to hold back, his eyes welled up, and tears fell. It happened in an instant. As Yeonseo blinked rapidly, tears poured like a broken faucet.

“W-why is this happening?”

“Guess I looked that bad.”

Tae Shinju held Yeonseo, who tried to pull away, and wiped his cheek with his thumb. New tears quickly replaced the ones he wiped, rendering it futile.

Yeonseo hid in his embrace to avoid showing his contorted face. A broad, warm embrace.

He’s alive…

“…No. You went through a lot.”

“You’re offering condolences without even knowing what happened?”

“You’ve been through all sorts of things.”

He knew “all sorts of things” was too flat a phrase. Especially “that day” must have been a cruel night, enough to erase this resilient man’s memory. While disappointed that he didn’t remember him, Yeonseo hoped that last day would remain forever lost in a maze.

Suddenly, he wondered about Tae Shinju’s finger.

“Was it the left hand?”

Yeonseo subtly shifted, pulling away from the chest he was pressed against, and gently touched Tae Shinju’s hand. Glancing at his expression, he seemed unbothered.

The dim bedroom light wasn’t ideal for close inspection. Yeonseo carefully held Tae Shinju’s left hand with both of his, pretending to examine the back while closely inspecting the pinky.

The once-empty space was firmly filled, as if nothing had happened. No distinct scars were visible. No one would guess it had been severed.

“I’m so glad I wasn’t too late…”

A sob caught in his throat.

His weakened eyes spilled hot tears. Drip. Drop. He hurriedly wiped the tears that fell on Tae Shinju’s hand.

“S-sorry.”

“…”

“I’ll go wash my face.”

As Yeonseo tried to leave the bed, his wrist was grabbed, and he was pulled into a firm embrace.

His chin was lifted, and hot breath hit him.

“Hnng…!”

A thick tongue parted his lips, enveloping Yeonseo. It was a rough, greedy kiss.

Yeonseo tried to push him away. Like the early days when he wasn’t used to kissing, he felt suffocated. His tense shoulders kept rising. In the end, he was trapped in that broad embrace, unable to move, and accepted him.

“Hah, hng, b-breath.”

“You act so high and mighty when you’re being chewed out.”

He growled lowly, their lips still close.

“Crying so easily over something I don’t even remember—don’t you think that’s unfair?”

A sharp rebuke. But… it didn’t hurt.

Instead, he bared his teeth with a fierce, wounded-animal expression.

“Do you know how maddening your crying face is?”

Anxiety.

Strangely, Yeonseo sensed anxiety in him. An emotion that didn’t suit “Tae Shinju.” If it was “Hyung,” he might have understood, but this was truly odd.

“Hup!”

Smack, smooch. His tongue tangled wildly, stealing Yeonseo’s breath. The contact was hot. His insides boiled even more. Thinking that Hyung was alive, anxious over his tears, sharing breaths, and mingling flesh, Yeonseo couldn’t help but feel excited.