Chapter 59
I didn’t break eye contact with Yu Hyunjae. His eyelids, usually drooping just enough to soften his expression, were rigid now, almost frozen. His eyes, catching the light, looked damp—like they were holding back tears. His flawless features always made him stand out, but the way he looked at me sometimes felt like sinking into a swamp—thick, suffocating, impossible to escape.
“The weather’s really nice now.”
“Yeah.”
“I think it’ll stay like this.”
“You think so?”
I answered vaguely, taking a subtle step back. Yu Hyunjae closed the distance instantly. My heart pounded so violently it felt like it would burst through my throat. They say red intensifies emotions—and they weren’t wrong. A wave of feeling crashed over me, threatening to drown out every rational thought.
“You—”
“…”
“The first time, you closed your eyes when I came close like this too.”
“…What?”
“Same as always.”
Before I could ask what he meant, Yu Hyunjae’s face drew closer, and his lips brushed lightly against mine. All I could do was pray the frantic pounding of my heart wouldn’t reach him through my trembling lips.
***
“It’s completely dark now.”
“It gets cold when the sun sets.”
“Yeah. Let’s go home quickly.”
Yu Hyunjae gently took my arm. Without realizing it, my arm stiffened, but I let him lead me. He seemed just as tense, pulling me along like he couldn’t bear to let go. After a strange silence, we started walking again.
That ambiguous act—barely a first kiss—left me paralyzed for a while. I didn’t bother asking about the truth of his last words before our lips met. As I’d thought before, even if Yu Hyunjae’s memories returned, nothing would change. Nothing would get better. If anything, I hoped he wouldn’t remember anything more.
“All the kids are gone.”
“Yeah. Must be late. Let’s hurry before the school gate closes.”
“Okay.”
The empty schoolyard stretched out before us, vaster than ever. We walked in silence, not holding hands, just our arms awkwardly brushing. The warmth where our forearms touched was almost scorching. It was strange—just the touch of someone’s skin made my whole body burn.
We barely made it through the closing school gate before running into someone leaning against the wall in the alley.
“Long time no see.”
Cha Suhyun smelled faintly of cigarettes. Judging by the pile of stubs at his feet, he’d smoked several in the same spot. Yu Hyunjae eyed him with suspicion.
“Were you waiting for us?”
“What if I wasn’t?”
“…”
“Why would I be here otherwise?”
“You’re really twisted, Hyung.”
“Hyung?”
Cha Suhyun let out a bitter laugh, then slowly looked down at our joined arms.
“Having fun, Chanhee?”
“You should try having fun too, Hyung. Then you’d understand.”
“Hmm. I tried, but it didn’t work out.”
“Need to talk separately?”
“No. I can say it here.”
Cha Suhyun didn’t care if Yu Hyunjae was listening. Whatever he was about to say was probably something Yu Hyunjae shouldn’t hear.
“Hyunjae, you go home first.”
Yu Hyunjae looked at me worriedly. Cha Suhyun’s disheveled appearance and expression were far from normal—it was understandable why he’d be concerned.
“Tell Mom I’m having dinner with Hyung Suhyun and I’ll be back later.”
“…Chanhee.”
“Sorry for sending you off suddenly.”
I slowly released Yu Hyunjae’s arm and nodded at Cha Suhyun. Fortunately, he followed without protest. He was involved with the anti-government faction, so having a third party witness this conversation wouldn’t do either of us any good. Leaving Yu Hyunjae standing there dazed, we walked out of the alley toward the main street.
Cha Suhyun and I entered a franchise café, ordered drinks with our usual expressions, and sat across from each other. To anyone watching, we’d look like ordinary friends—or close brothers.
“I’ve been thinking about it.”
“About what?”
“How you found out.”
“You came all this way just for that?”
Cha Suhyun’s brow furrowed at the word “that”, but he held back his anger and continued.
“And why you suddenly want to back out of this.”
“I’m not backing out, I just—”
“You don’t want to kill Yu Hyunjae anymore.”
Cha Suhyun cut me off with a hollow expression. I answered his accusation with silence.
“You know as well as I do that real emotions are pathetically trivial when you look back on them.”
“Maybe.”
“They are. At least for you, they’re nothing.”
“What do you want to say?”
“How long do you think that lie will hold up?”
I hardened my expression. Cha Suhyun, now in control, stared at me with the same hollow look—but this time, with a hint of certainty. Lie? The word made me think of my father first. I wasn’t entirely blameless, so Cha Suhyun’s veiled threat left me feeling trapped.
“What are you talking about?”
I feigned ignorance, lifting my teacup as calmly as possible. Rationally, Cha Suhyun couldn’t know about my father, Kim Guhyeon, and their connection to Yu Hyunjae. He shouldn’t know.
“That it wasn’t Yu Hyunjae’s fault your brother died—it was yours.”
I widened my eyes at his unexpected words.
“You had me fooled, Chanhee.”
“How did you—”
“Does it matter how I found out?”
Cha Suhyun’s flat voice made me fall silent again.
“It’s funny, you know.”
“…”
“Your cunning.”
I knew exactly what Cha Suhyun thought “Yu Chanhee” intended. Using my father’s influence to shift the blame for Yu Dohyun’s death from me to Yu Hyunjae. A powerless nobody, burdened with guilt for life, now gaining strength—and to suppress Yu Hyunjae, he’d collaborate with the anti-government faction to obtain the forbidden power of necromancy. All to resurrect his dead brother, the one he himself had killed.
It was all true. At least, in this scenario, Yu Chanhee was that person—a devilishly clever, ruthless schemer whose plans seemed too intricate for a seventeen-year-old.
There was only one answer I could give here. I couldn’t even deny it, since I had no proof to the contrary.
“What do you want me to say?”
“What?”
“So you can get the answer you want.”
“Are you a psychopath?”
I stared at Cha Suhyun with a blank face.
“Did you think Hyung would still be in love with Yu Dohyun?”
“What?”
“Did you think he’d still be pathetically clinging to the ashes of a dead man?”
“Watch your mouth. I’m not—”
“Why? You think I don’t know?”
“I’m not like that.”
“Not like what? Love?”
“…Yeah.”
“You’ve spent over a decade tormenting Yu Hyunjae through me, and you call that love?”
Cha Suhyun bit his lip so hard it turned white.
“If that wasn’t love, would you be blackmailing me over it now?”
“What do you know?”
“I know everything. Why wouldn’t I?”
Ironically, I understood Cha Suhyun’s emotions better than anyone. The desperate, ugly need to cling to someone—even their shadow—long after they’re gone. Unlike Yu Dohyun, whose death was scripted, I at least had the luxury of seeing Yu Hyunjae, alive and unaware. In that sense, Cha Suhyun and I were in the same wretched position.
“I feel the same way.”
“What?”
I blinked slowly. Everything around me felt unfamiliar. It was the first time in my life I’d ever confessed my emotions to someone else. I forced my heavy lips to form a few syllables.
“I call it love.”
“…What are you talking about?”
“That feeling you’ve clung to for ten years, the one you say isn’t love. I feel it too.”
“…”
“For Yu Hyunjae.”
***
As soon as I got home, I saw an unusual sight: Yu Hyunjae sitting in the living room with my father and mother. It was rare for all three of them to be together outside of mealtimes, so the scene felt strange.
“You’re back?”
My mother gave me a faint, tired smile. My father stared blankly ahead, avoiding my eyes.
“What’s going on?”
Though my question was vague, everyone in the room understood. I looked at Yu Hyunjae first.
“Chanhee.”
My mother hesitated, as if struggling to say something difficult. I waited patiently for her to continue.
“Your father knows someone who runs a school overseas for rankers.”
“Oh.”
“They asked if you’d be interested in enrolling.”
“I’m not really thinking about it.”
“Not you.”
“…Then,”
I turned to Yu Hyunjae. He gave me a small smile. For a moment, he looked so foolish.
“They want to send Hyunjae.”
