The bed was soft and warm, as if it still held the breath of the past night. Ryu Seonyeong couldn't remember the last time he slept without anxiety. His entire body was relaxed, and his thoughts were rare and clear, like water after the rain.
He slept peacefully because Kang Jihwan was beside him. Because for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel alone.
The first ray of early light broke through the gap in the curtains and slid across the sheet. Ryu shivered, woke up—and immediately sat up sharply. The sun. The light could harm him. He rushed to close the window, to shield Jihwan's body—but there was no one in the bed.
The sheets were cool. The air in the room was empty.
He cautiously lowered the blanket, looked at the pillow, on the floor—no trace. No clothes, no breath. Only a few reddish hairs stuck in the fold of the sheet proved that the night had truly happened.
Ryu quietly sighed.
— Ha... of course.
He sat back, burying his face in his palms. His heart beat dully, as if someone was quietly knocking from the depths inside him. Everything he wanted to say to Jihwan, everything he wanted to explain, crumbled like ash.
He wasn't angry. He couldn't be. Only a heavy, lingering regret settled somewhere beneath his ribs. He hadn't heard words of forgiveness, hadn't seen a promise to stay in his eyes. He just allowed himself to believe that something had changed.
— He could have at least said he was leaving, — he whispered into the void.
The morning in Virein was overcast. The sky hung heavily over the houses; fresh snow covered the streets. People hurried—to the station, to work, to life—not noticing how a solitary figure in a white down jacket stood at the bus stop, as if carved out of the fog.
Kang Jihwan looked strange: tall, wrapped from head to toe, in a mask and sunglasses. His gaze was fixed on nothing. He had already missed five buses but hadn't moved.
He was still thinking about him. About Ryu Seonyeong.
About how he slept next to him, gripping his hand tightly—as if afraid he would disappear.
About how peaceful his face was when the wrinkles between his brows vanished, and his lips were slightly parted in sleep.
Jihwan watched, memorizing every feature. And then, without saying a word, he got dressed and left.
Now, looking at the people walking by, he didn't understand—why.
Why he ran away.
He wanted to stay. He wanted to touch his hair, to hear him call his name. But fear—not the fear of a person, but the fear of inevitability—pushed him forward.
He was afraid that if he stayed, he wouldn't be able to leave, ever.
He took an old communicator from his pocket with a Synchron crystal embedded in the lid—a gift that once meant "connection." Now it felt heavy, like an anchor.
«Why am I still thinking about him?»
He didn't know.
Soon, he finally boarded a bus and left for Varen Sector. In a room that smelled of damp air and cold metal, he fell face down onto the bed.
— I should have visited Raon...
But instead of the sick girl's face, Ryu's face reappeared before his eyes.
His voice.
His hands.
«I... was wrong. Forgive me.»
«My weakness. Take it.»
He repeated this in his head until he felt his chest tighten. Why did this man, who had caused him so much pain, evoke pity and a desire to protect? Why, whenever he remembered him, did it become hard to breathe?
The communicator vibrated.
A message appeared on the screen from a contact in the Outer Virein Sector:
«Hulk seen again in Varen.»
Code name. Ryu Seonyeong.
Jihwan sat up as if he had been struck by lightning. His fingers trembled as he typed a reply:
«Photo?»
An image arrived a minute later. It showed a man in black entering the Vermilion corporation building. His expression was calm, but his eyes... tired.
— He really came back, — Jihwan whispered.
He enlarged the photo, lingering on the face. Not anger, not coldness—only quiet emptiness.
His heart oddly constricted.
A new message followed:
«The people patrolling his zone have been recalled. Vermilion and the apartment are clear.»
So... Ryu really let go. Without threats, without searching. He just left.
Jihwan closed his eyes.
— Did he really... repent?
He sat motionless for a long time until he decided to dial a number.
— Hyungnim! — Seo Raon's voice, cheerful and too loud, filled the air.
— Hey, Raon, how are you doing?
— Great! You paid for everything; I'm even embarrassed!
Jihwan smiled. Raon had been living in the city of Rias, on the sector border, for a month. The money he sent would have been enough for a year.
— But I'm working part-time, — Raon said cheerfully. — At the entrance of a club. A simple job, but not boring.
— Just don't get into trouble.
— Of course. But... something seems to have happened to you?
Jihwan paused.
— Maybe. You'll be able to come back soon.
— What, really? — Raon even stopped breathing. — Has everything been settled? Did you deal with that guy... with Ryu Seonyeong?
Jihwan rubbed the bridge of his nose.
— Not exactly. He came himself. Apologized. Said he won't do it again.
Raon snorted.
— Ha! That's what everyone who wants to survive says. But you didn't believe him, did you?
Jihwan didn't answer.
— He... cried, Raon.
— All the more reason! When debtors cry, it's usually a bad sign. It means they're planning something again.
Jihwan quietly laughed.
— You're becoming suspicious.
Raon persisted:
— You're just too soft, Hyungnim. Too kind.
— Who told you that?
— Everyone! Even Oh Ri-an said: if a vampire can pity someone—it's you.
Jihwan couldn't help but smile.
— Maybe so.
— And you're too kind to those who are handsome, — Raon added.
— Raon.
— What? I'm right! You get angry first, and then you save them. It's not even love, it's a habit of being good.
His interlocutor paused for a second and then softly said:
— But if you care about this Ryu so much, it means he's not just anyone to you.
— Don't talk nonsense.
— Then why haven't you forgotten him? Why didn't you erase his memory, like you usually do?
The question caught Jihwan off guard.
He really could have. Made everything simpler. Turned off the memories, erased the pain, left only emptiness. That's what he always did—with people, with feelings, with the past.
But now... he couldn't.
— Perhaps because he's the only one who isn't afraid to look me straight in the eye, — he replied quietly.
Raon smirked, but there was tenderness in his voice.
— So, you've met someone you consider your equal for the first time.
Jihwan didn't reply.
Because it was true.
When the connection cut off, silence hung in the room.
Jihwan sat, looking out the window. The gray sky slowly cleared; light rays slid across the roofs of the Varen Sector buildings.
He remembered the words Ryu had thrown at him before the hospital:
«You erase your memory and run away every time. Do you think that solves everything?»
Jihwan sighed and quietly said to himself:
— And didn't it solve it?
But there was no answer. Only a slight chill ran over his skin, as if somewhere far away, someone else spoke his name.
He stood up, put on his coat, and went out into the corridor.
A meeting awaited him ahead, one he could no longer postpone.
And a morning that promised to be not a beginning—but a continuation of what he was so afraid to call destiny.