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eros-reblogs · 2 months ago

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Chapter 4 - Challenge Accepted

Word Count: 4.6k Content Warning: Swearing, Action, Mild Violence, Mentions of blood Summary: After a conversation with Jinwoo, you need to let off some steam

Authors Note: First time writing any kind of fight, so I hope it comes across well! Really wanted to get that in there so I could improve my writing skills beyond the romance/fluff stuff cus I’ve got an idea for a later chapter that really needs it.

AO3

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Thanks to the holiday weekend, and therefore the lack of staff on duty, you had been too busy to think too much about your disastrous date, your failed plan and of course Him. But it was Tuesday, again, and that meant you were back in the cafe sipping your chai latte listening to Aera complain about how busy the cafe had been over the weekend, and how people expected places to be open and running at full capacity on holiday weekends, despite no one wanting to work them. You'd already given her the lowdown on your date on Friday night when she knocked on your door once she’d closed the cafe; she’d been yawning the whole time but was determined to know what had happened. Aera had taken one look at your dishevelled look, hair and clothes all skewed and crumpled, eyes rimmed red from tears, turned around and stomped back down the hall leading to outside. You’d called after her, but she ignored you in typical Aera fashion, and you were in no state to go after her yourself. Instead, you tried phoning her, but it went straight to voicemail, you tried again, same result. You half expected not to hear anything until the news reported that a local coffee shop owner had attacked the head of a Guild. Instead, the next thing you know, there was another knock on the door, and there she stood again, but this time with tubs of ice cream in hand.

The two of you had sat on the sofa for the rest of the night talking whilst some crappy action film played on the TV, even though neither of you were paying attention to it. Turns out she was set to go beat up Yoonho, but thought she should get the details first so she knew how bad to make it hurt, you were glad she hadn't just gone out guns blazing. She was especially glad when she realised it would have been for no reason at all and your tears had nothing to do with Yoonho. You were even more glad when she didn’t push you for details when you said it was your past that had caused the tears. You had only just stopped crying, and you really didn't want to start again.

“Anyway, I'd better go get back to work, you wouldn't imagine how much coffee we used over the weekend, so I need to sort out getting some more in. As it's quiet, do you want another?” She gestures to your mug, you glance around the room and see that only 2 other tables are occupied, so few that you can block out their emotions and relax. Enjoying being out of the house for once, you nod. “Awesome, I'll get that made and bring it over before I start doing the inventory. And before you say anything, no you will not be paying for it.” She walks away before you can reply. You learnt a long time ago that there was no point in arguing with Aera, instead, you'll put the money for the extra drink in the tip jar when you leave.

As you wait for your drink, you pull out your book, you open it to find you're still on the same chapter you were when you tried to read it last week. You’ve been too exhausted and emotionally drained to read this past week.

“Here you go darling, pop your head round the back when you're leaving, will ya?” Aera places a fresh mug in front of you and gives you a hopeful smile.

“Of course I will, thank you for this.” She waves her fingers at you in goodbye as she leaves.

“Ah ha, you can't use the excuse that you are just leaving this time.” So much for reading your book, you place the bookmark back on the same page and take a deep breath before turning to the voice. Jinwoo. Why is he everywhere?

“Well, I could, but that would be a waste of a perfectly good drink.” The smile you give him is tight and forced. Despite all the signals telling him the opposite, he sets his drink down on the table and slides into the booth opposite you.

“You fascinate me, you know.” His elbow finds the table, and he leans his head on his hand, gazing at you intently like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

“Gee, that's just what every girl wants to hear.” There's a forced cheeriness to your voice.

“Well, what can I say? I'm a master of seduction.” You scoff, “Almost every other girl in the city is throwing themselves at me after the broadcast of the Jeju Island Raid. But not you. You seem to be repulsed to even be in the same room as me.” You roll your eyes at his conceitedness, “And you see the thing is, it's not even like you hate me because I didn't get to the island quick enough. You hated me before then. You hated me when you healed me 6 months ago. I want to know why?”

“Can your fragile ego not cope with one woman not falling at your feet?” you fake pout at him.

“My ego is anything but fragile, and you seem to know it based on the jabs you’ve made at me. You seem to know something I don't.”

“Who do you think I am, some stalker?”

“No, but you know something. Have we met before? You said you knew me when we last met. What did you mean by that? How do you know me?” You just stare at him, not entertaining this line of questioning. “Is it some fascination with Hunters? S-Rank Hunters? I know you went on a date with Hunter Baek.” was that, jealousy, you could hear in his tone.

“Why would I have a hunter fascination? I work at the association, I'm around them all day, why would I also want them in my personal life?”

“Hey, don’t ask me. You’re the one going on dates with them and saying you know me when all we’ve had is a couple of minutes' worth of conversation.” Jinwoo shrugs, a smug look on his face like he won a prize.

“Look, I don't want to play this game with you. If you say you don't know me, then, fine, you don’t know me. But don't expect me to hash it all out for you, not here, not now.” You finally managed to tear your gaze from his electric blue eyes. Even before he changed, you found them mesmerising. Now, everything about him has levelled up. You startle at the thought.

Leveled up? Could he be the player that joined? No, the System hasn't said anything. No EXP bonus. Nothing. It can't be him. Can it? It might explain why you have no perception of his feelings; maybe that skill doesn't work with other players. You've never met another player before to test the theory. The thoughts run rapidly through your head, barely giving you time to think about the first before another one occurs.

“What do you mean, if, I don't know. Before 6 months ago, I have no recollection of ever meeting you before. If not here and now, and when and where? I want to know. This connection, our connection, is driving me insane.” He reaches across the table, entwining his fingers with yours, pulling your hand away from the death grip you had on your mug. Sparks fly over your skin where he touches you, your nerve endings alive with electricity, sending pulses of pleasure up your arm, straight to your heart. He feels like he used to. He feels like home. No, you shake yourself, you cannot let yourself be pulled in by him. He forgot you; he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.

“Nowhere and never. You don't get to make me live through it again because you conveniently forgot. I'm not reliving that for your entertainment.” Despite this conversation bringing up the same memories as on your date with Yoonho, this time you're not on the verge of tears; you just want to punch something. Maybe you'll join a squad and take on a gate this afternoon.

“Look, bab-”

“Don't you dare ‘babe’ me.” You tried to keep your anger in check, but by the look on his face, you were not doing a very good job. His gaze zeroed in on you eyes, damn, were they glowing? You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself, only to realise he still had hold of your hand. You wrench it out of his grip.

“What the-” it was said under his breath, but you still heard it. “How are you-” wrong line of questioning, please don't ask. You knew his grip had been too strong for a normal person to have been able to pull out of, but you had done it anyway. His phone was ringing in his pocket, but he was too busy staring at you, mesmerised.

“Aren't you going to get that?” You say, clearing your throat.

“Huh, oh yeah.” As if only just realising it was his phone that was ringing. “Hello. Okay.” His eyes don't leave yours, capturing you there, ensuring you don't leave while he's busy. “What's that got to do with me? Well, I'm in the middle of something right now.” he has the audacity to wink at you. “Can't you find someone else? Alright fine, I'll be there as soon as I wrap this up.” He still holds your gaze as he pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up without looking. “Sorry, darling, but something has come up.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Don't look so relieved, this conversation is far some over. I want to know everything, “He says up bracing himself on the table as he leans over so his face is only inches from yours. “About you strength, your healing skills and about everything you won't tell me. I will not let this go. I will find out.” The threat paralleled Aeras, only this one made all other threats seem like jokes. And you were on the wrong end of it. Part of you was intrigued to see what lengths he would go to to get the information, another part of you was terrified to find out. You let out a shaky breath, it mingled with his in the air as you realised he had gotten even closer. Close enough to kiss you. You looked down at his lips, flashbacks to the kisses you used to share flood your mind. You could only imagine how much better he had gotten, and he felt so good before.

Snapping your eyes back up to his, you saw he too was looking at your lips, maybe wondering the same thing. Unfortunately, for him you would not have improved, having been with no one since he abandoned you. As if sensing your eyes, he met them with his own, glowing an electric blue that you knew meant he was just holding his power in check. The shadows of the room seemed to have a mind of their own. Writhing and twisting, awaiting order from their master. You knew if you looked in a mirror, you own eyes would be glowing green, meeting the challenge he had placed at your feet. You would not go down that easily. You would fight him every step of the way after what he did to you.

Suddenly, he pulled back, seeming to get himself under control. As gracefully as he could, he slid out of the booth and stormed across the cafe. Glancing back over his shoulder as he yanked the door open,

“This is not over”, were the last words you got from him before he used his speed to vanish to wherever he had be called to. You slumped back in your chair, letting out a breath as you did. All the tension leaves your body. That man, that infuriating man.

You sat at your desk later that day, anger and restlessness still filling your muscles. There was only one thing for it. Opening up your internet browser, you looked at listings for raids. There were a few that would have worked for you to be able to let off some steam, but only one A-Rank gate. It had been a while since you had been on a raid, and you’d leveled up a few times since then, so it would be good to test your new strength. There was a party that needed another member to help carry their gear, which gave you, an E-Rank Healer, a good excuse to join their party. Nobody would take you seriously as a fighting member of a party or even a healer.

Contacting the Captain, he seemed hesitant to accept you, but there was no one else who had applied, so you got the location of the gate and the time to meet them. A quick glance at the clock showed you had plenty of time to get there, but you had a thing about being late, so you closed out of your browser and shut down the computer before making your way to the bedroom to change.

At the back of your wardrobe sat your hunting gear. It had been through a few different iterations over the years, with the most major one being when you became a player. The first few level-ups lead to some…drastic, changes in your physical appearance. You'd finally settled on a black long-sleeved top with cut-outs that left your shoulder exposed, tight black trousers and knee-high combat boots with built-in dagger sheaths. A utility belt sat around your waist, allowing you to carry almost anything you needed quick access to, such as health potions, food and teleportation stones. The utility belt was easier to explain the having access to the Systems' never-ending inventory. You finished the ensemble with a long black cloak complete with a hood that did a good job of hiding your identity from the people you had met through work. You didn’t share your name with everyone you met, but they would have seen your face, and as it's frowned upon for association workers to raid gates without approval, and you were technically a retired hunter, you shouldn’t really be doing this. You shrugged at your reflection in the mirror, oh well, you had to let off steam one way or another, and raiding was more fun than going to the gym.

You arrived at the gate with time to spare, perched against a nearby fence to wait for the rest of the party to arrive. It wasn’t long before a group made their way down the street to the gate.

“Right, this is it,” one of the part members spoke, you assumed it was the Captain from the authority in his voice, “We just need to wait for the E-Rank to arrive.” They obviously hadn’t seen you in the shadows, just as you were about to step out and reveal yourself, something made you pause. “Why’d you have to get an E-Rank?” A member of the party questioned.

“Yeah, now we’ll have to spend the whole time making sure they don’t get killed.” Came another voice.

“And all that would take is them to trip over something!” The first voice responded laughing, causing the rest of the party to break out in hysterics. It was the same everywhere. E-Ranks are the lowest of the low. They’re a joke to the Hunter community, and there was no way to prove them wrong because, quite frankly, it's true. Most E-Rank hunters have no business being in a dungeon, especially not an A-Rank one. But that doesn’t make it hurt less.

“Hey now,” It was the Captain’s voice, “We don’t have to worry about keeping them alive. What happens in a dungeon, stays in the dungeon. If they die, they die, that's not our fault. They knew what they signed up for when they joined the raid.” You should have known better than to hope the Captain would have been different. With a sigh, you stepped out of the shadows.

“Nice to know you all think so highly of me.” Your voice was flat, and you refused to show them any weakness. They, on the other hand, had the decency to at least look a little guilty, well, all except the owner of the first voice. A Tank, if you had to guess by the way he was dressed, a typical Tank based on his attitude. You locked eyes with him, even without the hatred in his eyes, you could feel his contempt for you. This was going to be fun, you rolled your eyes.

Clearing his throat the Captain spoke, ��Right, uh, so you ready to go?” you nodded in response, “Good, this is the bag of stuff for you to carry, lets go then.” without hesitation the captain drops a heavily ladened rucksack at your feet and turns to walk into the gate followed swiftly by the rest of the party, with you following closely behind adjusting the straps of the bag as you go.

You yawn as the party stops to rest in a clearing before continuing to trek through the forest in search of the Boss.

“Oh, I'm sorry, are we keeping you up?” the group's Healer snarls at you.

“What do you have to be tired about? You haven’t done anything!” It’s the arrogant Tank again. You haven't bothered to learn any of their names, after all, it's not like you’ll be joining their party again. That was a rule of yours: if you were going to go into gates, you could never go with the same party twice, it ran too big of a risk of someone discovering something they shouldn't. He wasn’t wrong; you hadn’t done anything, you yawned because you were bored. Only one beast had appeared at a time, making it easy for the party to take them down without you being able to join in. What you needed was a big battle; multiple beasts at once would mean they were all distracted, and you could test out your new speed and strength. You hoped you’d at least be able to have some fun when you found the Boss, but that wasn’t going to happen at this rate. It felt like you’d been walking in circles for hours, never getting any closer to the source of magic you could feel in the distance.

You dropped the heavy bag you were carrying to the ground, letting your irritation get the better of you. You were spoiling for a fight, and if that had to be with members of the party, then so be it. Rotating your shoulders, releasing the tightness they held from supporting the bag, you took a step towards the Tank, only to pull up short. A massive source of magic was coming through the trees at speed. Turning slightly to face the oncoming threat, you dropped into a fighting stance.

“Ooo, look at this. Little E-Rank wants a fight!” You were too focused on the actual threat to care who said it.

“Oh, shut up. There’s something coming.” You didn’t take your focus off the woods before you.

“I don’t feel anything.” It came from the Captain as he walk up to stand beside you, facing a threat he didn’t believe existed.

“Focus. Something’s coming this way. And fast.” you felt the curiosity emanating off the Captain, there was an undercurrent of disbelief tainting it, but after several moments, almost too many, the Captain turned to the rest of the party and called battle stations.

Just as the party were getting ready to fight, a huge beast burst from the tree line. This was unlike any beast you had seen before. It had a huge lion's mane that steak out behind it as it ran towards you, but its face was too human to call it a lion. Whilst it was running, it used all four legs, but as it skidded to a halt when faced with the party, it stood on its back legs, stretching to its full height. Stood upright, it was taller than the trees that surrounded them.

“What the fuck is that?!”

“How did we not feel that coming?”

“How did the E-Rank feel it was coming?”

The questions came thick and fast, but there was no time for answers. Great swiping claws reached just inches from them as the beast attacked.

“Positions!” yelled the Captain, taking his eyes off the beast for a moment to check his party had heard him. It was enough time for the beast to aim another strike at him, sending him flying past you and into a tree before slumping to the ground. You followed the movement, double-checking the rest of the party were handling their own before running to his aid.

Sliding to a halt on your knees beside the Captain, you assessed his injuries. Four massive gouge marks lined his chest. If he wasn’t treated fast, he wouldn’t make it out of the gate. You had sworn to yourself that you would never leave a man behind. You now had the power to heal people even when on the brink of death, you would not allow yourself to waste it.

“Gods, damn it. Why’d you have to be such an asshole to me?” It's so much easier to heal people when they’d been nice to you.

“S-sorry”, his response was quiet; he didn’t have long. Knelt in the dirt, cloak spread out around you, you rubbed your hands together, warming them slightly before laying them flat to his torso. Covering as much of the wound as possible, direct skin contact was the best way to heal a wound without scarring. Closing your eyes, you channelled your mana into your fingers, visualising the injury and knitting it back together. In the back of your mind, you could hear the fighting that happened behind you, subconsciously you kept track of where in the clearing the fight was, tensing when the clashes and shouts got closer, before relaxing when they retreated again. Your perception skill allowed you to pinpoint everyone based on their emotions. The arrogant Tank was on the front lines, forcing the beast back away from the Healer who was helping a Mage who had been wounded. The beast was surrounded, but somehow still winning the fight.

Bursting through the defensive line the creature took a swipe at your undefended back.

At least, it thought it was undefended. At the last second, you took a dagger from its sheath in your boot and sliced. The paw that should have ended you instead landed, severed, next to you. The beast let out a roar of pain, swiping blindly with its uninjured arm only to be met by a shield, halting its progress. You turned to see the arrogant Tank looking at you with pure confusion. “What the-”

“Not the time.” You looked back down at the Captain to see that his wounds had healed with no visible scarring. The Tank pushed the beast back, straight into the path of an incoming attack spell. Flicking your dagger to remove the blood from it, you stood, slow and with purpose, weighing your options. The party knew, there was no going back now. No pretending you were some weak E-Rank. You might as well end this and hope they agree to keep your secret.

You take a deep breath, now is a good a time as any to test out you new skills. One foot in front of the other, you crouch slightly, stooping to collect the dagger from your other boot. You always loved dual-wielding in games, and it gave you a slight thrill to try it in real life. With one last scan of the area, you launch at the beast, using your speed to catch it off guard with a slice across the chest before ricocheting off a tree on the other side of the clearing to slice across its back. Landing in a three-point pose, you see the beast is stunned and confused, looking around to find the source of its wounds. Letting out a breath, you leap into the air above the creature's head before dropping onto its shoulders to slice your daggers across its neck, severing everything major. You feel the body beneath you wobble and tip as the life leaves it, as it tumbles to the ground, you jump off, leaving enough space to ensure you don’t get crushed under its enormous weight. A quick check over yourself makes you realise you're not a breathless as you should be, you have gained more stamina than you thought. You walk over the fallen beast and wipe your bloodied daggers on the scraps of cloth that cover its body before sliding them back into the sheaths at your calves. Straightening, you glance around at the rest of the party to ensure there are no more injuries that need to be taken care of. Instead, you are met with 9 pairs of eyes, all looking at you with a mixture of confusion and awe. Shit.

“What-” Starts the Captain, still struggling to get to his feet from the base of the tree you left him at.

“What the fuck was that!?” the Tank interrupted, he seemed to be the only one seething with anger, everybody else frozen in shock. You remained silent, unsure of what you could say to make this better.

“Hayoon, calm down, I’m sure there is a logical explanation,” the Captain, now on his feet, set his hand on the Tank's shoulder before returning his attention to you, “right?”

“Umm, I don't really know what to say.” You avoid eye contact, looking at anything but the 9 people who wanted an explanation out of you.

“How about you start with the fact that you are clearly not on E-Rank Hunter of any kind.” The Captain gives you a pointed look.

“I mean, technically, officially, I am an E-Rank.” You fiddle with the edge of your cloak.

“So you tricked the assocaition somehow?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I, um, well, I was an E-Rank when I got assessed but I trained and shit and now I'm, not?” you grimace at the weak answer.

“Wait so you reawakened?” A Mage across the clearing spoke

“Um…sure”

“And based on your reaction, the association doesn't know?” You shake your head, “And you don't want them to know.” You nod. “So you need us to keep your secret.”

“Yeah, basically.” You gave the Captain a hopeful look, knowing he gets the last say on what the party would, or would not, say.

“Give us a moment.” The Captain gestured to the rest of the party and walked off into the woods. You looked down at your hands, they were covered in blood, you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins slowly dissipating, leaving you trembling slightly. You wiped your hands on your trousers in an effort to get rid of the worst of the red, this was why you wore black. You had to walk through the city after this, and you didn't need anyone asking why you were covered in blood, and blood didn’t show up on black. You were still trying to get the staining off your hands when the group reappeared out of the trees.

“Okay, we'll keep your secret. It's the least we can do after you saved our lives. And, by the looks of it, took out the Boss single-handed.” The Captain shrugged before clearing his throat, his voice returning to the authoritative Captain he was before the fight. “On that note, we'd better harvest what we can from the nearby area. Now the Boss is defeated, it's only a matter of time before the gate closes, so we need to get out of here quick.” Everybody nods and gets to work.

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eros-reblogs · 2 months ago

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High Orc giving Jinwoo and reader’s child piggy back rides and having tea parties and how to use a bat to hit people with (the last one is a joke… maybe) 🥹🥹

CANON TO ME

in my head for some reason all the high orcs are actually pretty feminine (personality wise) LMFAOOO like i can see them doing the dishes, tending the garden, cooking in their cute apron like doing girly stuff so yeah definitely playing houses and tea parties with her

i think the bears are more suitable to give rides for the baby girl i feel like she'd look so cute riding them with her stomach pressed flat on their back, her tiny hands clutching onto their fur (jinwoo would have a HEART ATTACK if he sees her riding one tho)

the knights (dumbasses) and IRON (the bigger dumbass) will secretly teach her how to wield a sword and fight but if daddy!igris finds out they're dead

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eros-reblogs · 2 months ago

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I wonder if Jinwoo ever gets jealous if he sees his beloved being nice to/doting on other people.

Like imagine if Jinah falls asleep on his beloved's lap and she starts singing to her while stroking her hair.

Or! She praises his shadows and pats their heads everytime she thinks they've done a good job.

YES YES YES HE DOES HE 10000000% DOES GET JEALOUS but he keeps a straight face cause... well he's jinwoo. the most reaction you'll see from him if he catches jinah sleeping with your head on your lap is just 🧍

but the second jinah goes home, he will drag your ass back to the couch, tell you to "sit down and don't move" and he'll put his head on your lap and he'll let out this long-ass sigh as if he's been working non-stop for DAYS (he hasn't) and he'll go "god, i'm so tired, i wonder if a head massage could wash all my fatigue away" (i wanna punch him on the lips with MY LIPS) and you'll roll your eyes but you'll stroke his hair anyway cause you love him even though he's super annoying (affectionate) and he'll have this soft smile and he'll look cool and all but inside he's doing a happy dance, going like "yeah she's mine"

and bro he'll allow you to pat his shadow soldiers' heads that's fine but if you kiss them on the forehead? like if you kiss beru on the top of his head because he's done such a good job watching your daughter?

"cancel summon"

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eros-reblogs · 2 months ago

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Been listening to Wait for It (Hamilton) on repeat, and I like to imagine reader getting Beru into Hamilton and them both belting Wait for It cause it’s such a good song ahh

Wait for It is SUCH a good song! very catchy too!

omgomgomg imagine reader and beru singing it ALL DAY and ALL NIGHT long like jinwoo is just standing there in the kitchen like🧍 just watching beru and reader jamming to it NON-STOP and completely forgetting that they're in the middle of cooking breakfast (HIS breakfast) and he's like "guys... it's burning"🧍

and it's getting SOOOO ANNOYING cause he can be in the middle of taking an important call with chairman go about a recent dungeon break and beru is like belting the chorus in the middle of his living room and reader is dancing with the baby and even the baby is starting to shout "wayt fo it wayt fo it!" like it's SO NOISY and jinwoo is like "can you both stop IT'S BEEN THREE DAYS"

and then one day they just stop singing about it like thank fucking god they've finally moved on

so jinwoo kisses his wife goodbye, he goes on a raid, his heart happy CAUSE FINALLY HE'S FREE FROM THE STUPID SONG RINGING IN HIS EARS and as he waits for the foot soldiers to finish mining some crystals he goes "death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints..." humming to himself, tapping his feet, his head bobbing (he's so fucking cute) and he catches igris watching him from the side looking at him like 😒 and jinwoo's like "igris, listen to me. it's not like that. i wasn't singing the song. i swear to god, i wasn't." and igris just... silently walks away

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eros-reblogs · 2 months ago

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When Jinwoo’s daughter starts walking, she’s so close to saying her first words! But what comes out from her mouth isn’t Mama or Papa, it’s….BERU! Jinwoo’s wife is between surprised and 🤣, while Jinwoo is in between shock and wanting to cry. Beru is straight up crying. Jinwoo totally bans him from watching K Dramas for life.

THIS IS SOOOOOO CANON TO ME LIKE OMG

Imagine jinwoo kneeling down on the floor, his arms spread out as he waits for his baby to walk over to him. “Come on, princess, just a few more steps, you can do it” and his baby daughter giggles as she walks toward him, still wobbling on her feet, looking SO CUTE and she’s about to reach his arms but suddenly???? She makes a turn??? And she rushes toward Beru, tripping on her feet but beru catches her just in time before her face meets the floor.

The baby girl laughs, looks up at the ant and she says her first word “Bewu!”

“PRINCESS WAAAAAAAAA” Beru cries, swinging her in his arms. “YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT IS UTTERLY TOUCHED BY YOUR AFFECTION PRINCESS WAAAAA”

“Oh my god!” Her mother squeals, jumping in joy. “Jinwoo, did you hear that! She just said her first word! She just called out his name!”

Jinwoo, still kneeling on the ground like the pathetic dad he is, closes his arms, and his face literally changes from this ☺️ to this 😧 to this 😟 to this 🙁 to this ☹️ and this 😠

“Cancel summon.”

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eros-reblogs · 2 months ago

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No x reader art this time but GENDERBENT ZANI(I’ve been working on this for straight hours I got lazy on the second one)

HOURSSSSS 😭

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eros-reblogs · 2 months ago

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Hi, this is the girl who asked about giving you ideas, to say there are many sung jinwoo x readers that have a happy ending or angst for the reader, why are we hurting to us readers? i see a specific post where jinwoo is traumatized angst, so why make him feel our pain with bittersweet ending? i don't hate him it's just that there are many posts that don't give up the vibe and slowly start to be tedious when all readers are in pain except for him.

(it may be ooc and a bit oc because I've seen readers impersonating another character like this that should be the reader, not some insert character. not to mention when having the same power, skill and strength like the character that already exists? might as well put oc!reader or out to stereotype yn/reader/name but i would want to have a reader as their own perspective due to the fact people wanted attention to tagged, i understand the popularity but please to all readers reading this, understand to the perspective point of view that we should put oc! reader instead of 'x reader' if they're having features of the characters you want to impersonate, to copy skills and other ability and powers, ok i ramble too much so I'll stop)

how about this: either you make the longest one shot or make a cliffhanger draft, series and a few chapters. take your time to think us readers are not rushed and i would gladly help you as the requester for specific details and ideas to add to your writing as an author, i have a few more ideas if you write this to continue.

a Isekai reader, similar to your previous post yet let's make a different path? the reader Isekai to solo leveling, let's make it female reader/f(y/n), (sorry to gn or male because I don't understand genders perspective but i want everyone to be fair, it's just that I'm more comfortable with female perspective). ok so back with the topic.. the reader, let's say sure we love the protagonist mc sung jinwoo but we only see him as an inspiration and to admire from afar, when the reader Isekai to jinwoo's world, the reader would remain friends and partners, nothing more and would never reciprocate jinwoo's feelings, the reader would turn a blind eye and 'oblivious' of his feelings, let's say we did help him to the minimum but reader has a limit because of the system.

the system would give powers but there are consequences like jinwoo(when he grew stronger, he would slowly lose his emotions) so i suggest that when the reader looks at the consequences once they grow stronger, she holds a book that contains a lot of information spoilers because the consequences are their memory(only to solo leveling) so to a reminder on what their purpose and plans along with reasons. the reader would continue the Life of helping jinwoo like a devoted follower.

once he slowly forgets and doesn't need the reader due to the FL aka cha hae-in, the reader would step back calmly and walk away. in the background reason.. the reader would help jinwoo big time like they would be anomaly without him realizing about it until it's too late when the reader put the system to forget everyone's memories except for him.

with the reader getting stronger, they'll have to cover their tracks so nobody would find the F!reader. maybe in another country— oh wait he would have a million shadows to search for her.. maybe to another planet like the moon? once she left without saying goodbye or where they go when antares battle ends, the reader would say a few words without him knowing that jinwoo would not see the reader again once he used the reincarnation cup.

(I) would always choose you to be your partner and ally, (L)et's meet again, alright? (Y)ou brought colors to lit up my life on my grayscale monochrome world, (S)o I'll be waiting (J)ust for you.. after all, we're not in a rush because we always have time in the world.

(it's ily sung jinwoo, you can make him a bit yandere or something. but anyways let's make him feel our pain! it's unfair for us to be sad!! sorry if my grammar and typing is complicated to understand, you can ignore or skip it if you want.)

Thanks for sharing this with me 💗

Your idea is really interesting, and it would be great if it were written as a complete story

But maybe with your idea, it would become a new story and it would probably repeat Farewell which I don't want to do a similar story because I know I would just write it quite similar to Farewell (〒▽〒)

So if possible, I would just write part 2 of Farewell, continuing the story, when the MC (reader) decides to leave, erase everyone's memories of them and erase their memories of everyone. The MC in the story has decided to let go and live for themselves, meaning they will not pay attention to Jinwoo anymore and start a new life.

I'm sorry 😭🙏

________________________

If it were written as a story, I think it would go like this

_________________________

The old book still lay in the pocket of the cloak - the soft leather worn, the edges curled as if it had been through many storms. No matter how many battles, how many times you almost lost yourself, the one thing you never let go of was this notebook.

It had no power. It did not open a portal, it did not activate a hidden skill. It was just a normal notebook, but it was the only place where you dared to be honest.

Each thin page, recorded fragments of memory - sometimes hastily scribbled in smudged ink, sometimes neatly written as if in a false peace. Each word written was a reminder, an anchor to keep you from being swept away by the growing wave of power.

The first page, written in shaky handwriting. "Don't love him. Don't stay because of him."

You remember writing that sentence, your hands were so cold that you could barely hold the pen. You cried, you laughed, you whispered 'stupid' to yourself. But you wrote anyway, because you knew that if you didn't write it down, you would forget why you kept your distance.

Turn to the second page.

"He doesn't belong to you. And you don't belong to this world."

Not belong, that sentence became a mantra. You repeated it every night, every time his eyes accidentally passed you, every time you heard his name from someone else like a legend, like a god, like something forever out of reach.

And you knew, even though your heart was slightly moved, you couldn't get any closer.

The next page, the writing was sharper, as if written when you had better controlled your emotions, when you had learned to accept. "Just a partner. Just a companion."

Not a lover. Not a chosen one. Not a kept one.

You were with him out of obligation. Because you can help him. Because you want this world to have a chance to survive. And because, in some corner of your heart, you can't turn your back on him - even if it means pushing yourself into loneliness.

As your strength increases, each piece of memory fades, you forget the face of the mother you once loved, forget your favorite food, forget the reason you were afraid of the dark. But every time you read these lines again, you remember a little, not in images or memories, but in feelings. A silent but passionate feeling.

You turn to the last page.

Just one line, written in soft handwriting, like a light touch on a wound that has never healed:

"If he forgets you…don't be hurt. Let him be happy."

You pause for a long time on that line. Your eyes close slightly, as if to stop the thoughts from surging.

You know, one day, he won't see you anymore, not because you're not there, but because his heart is full. You know, in the countless things he protects, you're just a faint part - not enough to make him stop.

And you promise yourself, that you won't hold on. You won't cry. You won't ask for anything.

You'll just smile, close the book and walk away.

Because you love him.

But you love him enough not to become a chain.

______________________

The light from the Fragments of Light still hung in the air, like stars that had yet to fall. The battle with Antares was over, but the air still smelled of ashes and sacrifice. Everything had ended - and begun - in an eerie silence.

Jinwoo, still clutching the Reincarnation Cup, looked up at the sky. In that silent light, his eyes shone with a rare peace, as if he could finally rest. He would go back in time, to fix all his mistakes, save those who had fallen, and start over again - this time, without war, without death.

You came in that moment. No one saw you. Not a single footstep, not a single breath. You just came, as you had always come to him in silence, a figure without a name, without a title, just a 'partner'. You don't need to call his name, because he always recognizes you, somehow.

Jinwoo turns around, his eyes softening when he sees you. He doesn't seem surprised. He seems to have always believed that you would be here, by his side, until the very end. "You're here," he says, like a thank you that hasn't been said in all the years of companionship. "Thank you for always staying."

You just smile. No reply, no explanation. You know, if you say more, you won't be able to hold it in. You'll cry. You'll grab his hand and beg him to stay. But you can't.

Because you've decided long ago.

You take a deep breath, as if to stuff all the emotions into your chest, then speak - each word is soft, but falls like a cut.

"I would always choose you to be your partner and ally."

"Let's meet again, alright?"

"You brought colors to lit up my life on my grayscale monochrome world."

"So I'll be waiting…" you stopped, your heart skipped a beat.

"Just for you."

The light rose around everything before Jinwoo could either speak or say your name.

You spoke softly yet uncertainly if he could hear you say " After all, we're not in a rush" while standing there. "Because we always have time in the world."

The cup glowed. The light of rebirth, of a chance to start over, swept through the world like waves. Everything was swept away by it, war, pain, loss, and you.

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eros-reblogs · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter Two | Again, And Again, And You

Chapter Two: A Fresh Start

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader

Word Count: 5,5k

Summary:

You've lived through countless timelines—each one shaped by monsters, magic, and the unbearable weight of knowing too much. Until you wake up in a version of reality where none of that ever happened. No dungeons. No deaths. Just high school… and him. Sung Jinwoo—quiet, intense, and impossibly familiar—is here too, and maybe this time, it'll be you who changes his world.

Notes:

I— I think I went overboard with the length of this chapter I mean like— ... just enjoy

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The world felt different when you woke up.

Not in a way you could explain—everything was where it should be, everything looked the same. The sun rose like it always had, painting gold across the ceiling of your room.

And yet, your chest felt hollow. As if you'd just surfaced from drowning.

You sat up in bed, a sharp inhale cutting through your lungs. Your hands trembled slightly as you touched your face, half-expecting to see blood, ash, or time etched into your skin. But you were young.

You were… young.

You stumbled to the mirror and stared.

The person staring back at you was barely seventeen. No shadows under her eyes. No scars on her neck. No weight of a thousand lives hanging from her shoulders.

You blinked rapidly, as if to wake up again. But this was the dream. Or rather, the end of it.

The world had been reset.

He’d done it.

Sung Jinwoo had done it.

You didn’t cry—not right away. But your knees gave out slowly, and you sat there on the floor, heart pounding like a drum, repeating one truth over and over:

You’re free.

At first, you didn’t try to find him.

You told yourself he wouldn’t remember. That this life was his reward. That he deserved peace without the weight of old memories.

But still… a part of you wanted to see him. Just once. To confirm that he was okay. That he still existed. That it hadn’t all been a dream you made up in the space between lifetimes.

So, you enrolled in the same middle school.

Sliding into the role of a transfer student wasn’t new to you. A few forged documents, a timely uniform delivery, and voilà—new student, perfectly ordinary. You’d even knocked your age down to fifteen on paper. Technically, you were almost seventeen, but what were a couple of years between friends? It wasn’t like anyone was going to card you in homeroom.

Besides, you were already ancient compared to everyone else. Maybe not in body, but mentally? Please. After a few dozen lifetimes, you were basically the wise old sage in a room full of toddlers. If anyone asked, you just had an “old soul.” They didn’t need to know it came with the emotional baggage of a thousand respawns and a suspiciously encyclopedic knowledge of stock market crashes.

Enrolling in middle school felt like sitting through an onboarding presentation for a company you'd already secretly run twice. You knew the rhythm, the roles, the script—even if everyone else thought this was your first day on the job.

A crisp uniform, a clean transcript, and your real name on the roster—check, check, and check.

Sung Jinwoo had already sparked a school-wide glow-up rumor before you stepped foot in class.

He used to be awkward, they said. Kind of forgettable, quiet in a way that made people skim past him in the hallway. But something had shifted.

He came back after summer with cleaner hair, straighter posture.

Suddenly, people realized he was hot.

Like, surprise lead-role-in-a-drama hot.

His smile was easy now. His voice low and warm. Rolled-up sleeves. That thing guys do where they lean back in chairs just enough to look effortlessly cool without actually falling.

He helped teachers carry supplies. He saved a bee from a classroom once, apparently. People said he smelled like clean laundry and citrus and the sun.

Even the guys loved him.

“Bro, I’m not gonna lie,” one classmate had said loudly once, voice carrying across the lunch tables, “we thought you were just, like… a weird shut-in last year. We were so wrong. I’m sorry.”

Jinwoo had just laughed, easy and warm, and clapped him on the back like it really wasn’t a big deal.

It made him even more likable.

Because that was the thing—he didn’t act like someone who’d suddenly realized he was hot. He just was. And somehow, that made people fall even harder.

Girls confessed to him. Often.

Sometimes it was a letter slipped into his locker, folded with trembling care. Sometimes it was a bento left on his desk, wrapped in pastel cloth with a note tucked beneath. A few were bold enough to ask him face-to-face—he always looked surprised when they did. Not because he didn’t expect it, maybe, but because he genuinely didn’t know how to react.

He wasn’t cold. Just… unreadable. He’d thank them, bow slightly, offer a soft smile that somehow didn’t give anything away. And then he’d return to whatever he was doing—scribbling in the margins of his notebook, sipping his strawberry milk, or talking to the guys. Sometimes they’d walk away giggling. Sometimes in tears. It wasn’t clear if he was just oblivious or expertly polite, but either way, nothing stuck.

Until the day you walked in.

It was morning—barely past 9:00.

A math class in full swing, the room draped in fluorescent chill and the quiet scratch of pencils. The teacher’s voice filled the space in low, practiced rhythm, chalk tapping steadily against the board. Outside, the sunlight was pale and clear, leaking through the windows in sharp, angled beams.

And then the door clicked open.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t nervous.

Just… smooth. Deliberate. The kind of entrance that didn’t need permission. You stepped in with a quiet sort of confidence, your bag slung over one shoulder, uniform crisp, expression unreadable. Composed in a way teenagers rarely were.

You didn’t look around for approval.

You just scanned the room once, calm and quiet, the kind of quiet that made people straighten up without knowing why. You nodded when the teacher finally noticed you standing there—a slight tilt of the head, perfectly polite—and stepped aside like you hadn’t just walked into the middle of a math lesson, like this wasn’t two months too late for transfers.

The chalk stuttered on the board. The teacher cleared his throat. “Ah—yes.” A pause. “Everyone, please welcome our new student, (y/n).”

Chairs creaked. Neck cranes followed you. A ripple of whispers. Half-curious, half-nervous energy filled the air.

“Please find a seat.”

And across the room, Jinwoo—half-slouched in his seat, pen resting against his lower lip—looked up.

He blinked.

Like something inside him had missed a step.

For a second, just a second, something flickered across his face. Not surprise. Not interest. Just… confusion. That sharp, uncanny déjà vu with no image attached—only a feeling. A breath held in the dark.

He’d never seen you before.

And yet—something about you tugged at him.

A flicker. A scent of familiarity buried deep under layers of time and dust and forgotten things. He shoved the thought down immediately. It was impossible.

You walked past him—two rows back, your steps soft, unhurried.

He followed the sound without meaning to.

Jinwoo blinked again.

Then, very carefully, leaned back in his chair, tapped his pen twice against his notebook, and muttered under his breath:

“…No way.”

He caught himself a second later, eyes darting to check if anyone had heard.

Then—quick recovery.

He straightened slightly. Pushed his bangs back. Sat there like the embodiment of casual disinterest, the boy too cool to be caught off guard.

Too cool.

Like someone who’d practiced smoldering in the mirror but was now deeply unsure what to do with his hands.

You caught his eye, just briefly, as you scanned the room for a seat.

He looked away immediately. Not too fast. Just… mildly interested in the far wall, apparently.

But after that—

You felt it.

His gaze, brushing over you more than once. Lingering when you weren’t looking.

Not with curiosity.

With confusion.

Recognition.

Like a name that danced just out of reach.

Like a face he should know, but couldn't place—a phantom glimpse from the past. Every time his eyes lingered on you, that sensation crept back. Stronger. More insistent. Unsettling.

You didn’t expect to cause a stir.

At least, that was the plan.

But apparently, mastering the art of not trying was the secret to suddenly becoming the main character.

First, the grades.

Then, the moment you effortlessly corrected a teacher. Graceful. Polite. A tilt of the head, a glint in your eye that said, I’m right—and I’m not even trying to be smug about it.

It started off harmless enough.

Third-period history. The room hummed with the familiar buzz of the late morning sun spilling across desks. The air was warm, thick with the chatter of half-listening students and the teacher’s monotone lecture on post-war reforms.

You were taking notes quietly—head down, pen gliding smoothly—until he said it:

“And of course, women didn’t really play a role in those reforms. Most of them stayed at home. The important decisions were all made by men.”

The words hung in the air for a second. Just long enough.

You blinked. Looked up.

A soft click of your pen stopping. No drama. No raised voice. Just a slight shift in your posture as you lowered your hand and spoke up.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said, calm and even. Not rude. Just… precise. “I think that’s not entirely accurate.”

The room stilled.

Mr. Han blinked over his glasses, clearly surprised that anyone had spoken—especially the new girl.

You tilted your head, like you were still weighing how best to phrase it, before speaking with calm certainty:

“Several female activists were instrumental in shaping the educational reforms and labor policies during that time. Especially in Seoul and Busan. Kim Bok-dong, for example, continued her advocacy even post-war. Also, the Women’s Union had seats at the negotiating table in 1946.”

You didn’t smile exactly—but there was something in your expression. A light behind your eyes. Confident, without needing to flex it. Like this was just a fact, not a fight.

There was a pause.

A long one.

A pencil rolled off someone’s desk. A chair creaked. Somewhere in the back, a girl made a sound like she’d just witnessed a plot twist in a drama.

Mr. Han cleared his throat.

“Yes. That’s… a good point,” he said slowly, adjusting his collar. “I stand corrected.”

You nodded, jotting something else down in your notes like nothing had happened.

But something had.

Two rows ahead, Sung Jinwoo blinked slowly, the faint scratch of his pencil stopping mid-word.

He hadn’t been paying full attention—his gaze had been half out the window, half on the margin doodles in his notebook—but your voice had cut clean through the hum of classroom monotony. Calm. Precise. Just a little sharp at the edges, like the glint of a blade in sunlight.

New girl. Hair tucked behind one ear, eyes still focused on your notebook. As if none of it had mattered. As if a whole classroom hadn’t just silently re-evaluated you in real time. The girl next to you was staring. Someone two seats down had actually scooted closer.

But you? Unbothered.

Jinwoo’s gaze lingered.

There was… something.

Not familiarity exactly. But weight. Like gravity in reverse. The kind that pulls at memory, tugging on something buried under centuries of silence and blood and shadows.

The way you’d held the room just now—it reminded him of her.

The Founder.

The one who'd stood tall even when monarchs threatened war. The one who'd never bowed.

The one he’d never figured out.

But that was impossible.

She was gone. Had to be.

He was the only one cursed to remember.

He shook the thought from his head like mist from his shoulders, turning back to his notes.

It didn’t make sense.

Just another strange feeling in a life full of them.

Still…

His pen tapped against the margin once. Twice.

Then he scribbled something down that wasn’t related to history at all.

Your name.

He wasn’t even sure he’d meant to write it.

But there it was.

And the smallest crease formed between his brows.

What had started as a quiet correction soon spread like wildfire.

You hadn’t raised your voice. You hadn’t even looked smug.

But you’d dismantled a teacher’s outdated view with the elegance of someone flipping a chess piece onto a checkmate square. And you did it with a grace that made the girls around you swoon.

“I think I stopped breathing,” someone whispered to her friend outside the classroom. “She didn’t even flinch.”

From there, it snowballed.

People admired your calm. The way you carried yourself like you knew exactly who you were. Your quiet confidence, the way you listened—actually listened—and spoke like your words mattered. Like theirs did too.

Before long, you started noticing a shift. Girls who usually stuck to their own groups were suddenly finding excuses to hang around, like they were magnetically drawn to whatever vibe you were giving off. No one was trying too hard—they just wanted a bit of your coolness to rub off.

The whole thing still felt a little surreal. A few weeks ago, you’d just been the new girl—the one slipping into class unnoticed, blending into the background. Now, you had a group of girls who were, for lack of a better word, attached to you. They weren’t bad, though. In fact, they were kind of fun. They’d drag you along to lunch, chat about the latest drama, and occasionally ask for your opinion on the most important issues, like which lip gloss had the best scent or whether the cafeteria’s pizza was worth the risk of food poisoning.

Today, they were gathered around your desk, laughing about something one of them had said—some story about a teacher who accidentally wore mismatched socks to class. You found yourself grinning without even thinking about it. There was something so effortlessly easy about the way they included you, like you’d always belonged here.

“You know,” one of them said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “I don’t know how you do it. You’re so chill. I mean, way chill. It’s like you’re just, I dunno, above all the drama, you know?”

You laughed, half-embarrassed, half-flattered. “I wouldn’t say above it. Just… trying to survive it.”

“Survive? Girl, you’ve mastered it,” another chimed in, nudging you playfully. “I swear, you’ve got this whole ‘cool, collected vibe’ going on. It’s like you’re a movie star or something.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond. It had been a while since anyone said something like that to you, especially not with such earnestness. Was it really that obvious? You’d always figured you were just… trying not to screw things up. In some strange way, you were almost relieved. You were just so tired of being the outsider.

"I don't know," you said, glancing out the window for a second, a little too aware of how your words sounded. "I guess... I’m just happy I can finally be, I don’t know, normal for once."

They all stared at you for a second, as if the idea was so foreign that they didn’t know how to respond. And then they laughed. Not in a mean way, just a soft, understanding laugh.

"Girl, you’re like way past normal," one of them teased, and you swatted her arm lightly, laughing along.

But there was something warm about hearing it. Maybe you didn’t need to be anything extraordinary. Maybe, for the first time in a long time, you could just be yourself.

It wasn’t a bad way to be.

The bell rang for the end of lunch, a mix of relief and slight reluctance hanging in the air as everyone packed up their things. You, however, were still caught in a bubble of conversation, a few girls chatting animatedly around you as you all made your way to your next class.

For a moment, it felt almost like before—like you were part of the group but still slightly outside it. You could feel their eyes on you sometimes, the way they’d smile at you like you were a little secret they were all proud to keep. But there was something different about it now. You weren’t just the new girl anymore. You were... someone they all wanted to be near.

It wasn’t a bad thing.

And yet, as the laughter died down and the group started to disperse, you caught a glimpse of someone at the edge of the hallway, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Jinwoo. His presence, always so quiet, still seemed to draw attention.

He wasn’t quite looking at you, but you could feel it—a pull, like his gaze was hovering just on the edge of your peripheral. His eyes flicked to you briefly, but then he quickly turned away, scribbling something in his notebook as if it was the most important thing in the world.

You weren’t sure why it made your stomach tighten, or why your pulse seemed to quicken as you walked past him.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t seen him around before. He was the school’s “heartthrob,” after all. Everyone knew who he was. But this? The strange tension that seemed to hang between you and him whenever your paths crossed—this was new.

You stepped around him, almost brushing past him, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the hallway’s stale air.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The world continued on around you—students chatting, shoes scuffing against the linoleum—but it felt like everything slowed down.

He shifted, turning slightly, as if deciding whether or not to speak. And then, just as you were about to move on, you heard his voice.

“Hey,” he said, the single syllable low and almost hesitant.

You stopped, caught off guard by the sound of his voice. It was strange—almost like he'd been practicing saying it to you in his head, over and over, before actually letting the word slip out.

You turned, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah?"

There was a beat of silence. Jinwoo seemed like he wanted to say more—something else was on the tip of his tongue—but instead, he just gave a small shrug. "Never mind," he muttered, and with that, he turned back toward the hallway, his shoulders tense as if he’d said something he wasn’t ready to say.

You stood there for a second, blinking in the sudden awkwardness of it all. His footsteps echoed as he walked away, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had almost spilled out.

But before you could dwell too long on the thought, you were pulled into another conversation by one of the girls from your group, and Jinwoo’s strange, brief interaction was lost in the noise of the crowd.

Because while Jinwoo had become the school’s heartthrob, you had become something else entirely—mysterious, magnetic, untouchable.

The girls didn��t leave you alone.

You were always surrounded. Walking anywhere alone required a strategy.

And Jinwoo?

He looked like he wanted to say something.

He’d lean forward, hesitate. Start to stand. Then pause as someone asked you a question or grabbed your sleeve to drag you to lunch.

He’d sit back like nothing happened. Scribble something in his notebook that wasn’t schoolwork. Bite the inside of his cheek like he was annoyed with himself.

Like he knew you.

Like he’d met you in a dream, once, and the memory had just now caught up.

And still… nothing happened.

Until one afternoon during break—

It wasn’t a dramatic escape. Just you, slipping away while the girls weren’t paying attention.

The school rooftop had always been… yours. Not officially, of course. Just in that quiet, unspoken way places become sacred. It was where the noise below couldn't reach. Where people weren’t buzzing around you with expectations or praise.

Where you could breathe.

You leaned against the railing, arms resting atop it, eyes cast over the schoolyard far below. The spring breeze was light, brushing against your skin with a gentle sway.

You let yourself just be.

No running. No fighting. No pretending.

You were starting to get used to the feeling.

Just the faint sound of distant laughter from the classrooms below, the wind rustling through the trees, the gentle hum of life continuing like the world hadn't ended again and again.

You closed your eyes for a second. Felt the sun warm your face.

This was something you never got to enjoy before. Not really. Not with everything you had to become.

Unknowing to you somewhere from the courtyard, he saw you.

He’d been laughing at some dumb joke Sungil cracked—something about the cafeteria milk again—and his eyes drifted lazily toward the sky.

And there you were.

On the rooftop.

At first, he didn’t think much of it.

You were always slipping away lately, weren’t you?

But there was something about the way you stood. The stillness in your shoulders. The calm. Like someone who’d earned it.

His mind flickered to that moment in class.

The way you spoke to the teacher—controlled, sharp, like you’d negotiated boardroom wars before.

The confidence. The dry wit.

Your name.

It had nagged him when he first heard it. Felt oddly familiar. But he’d brushed it off.

Coincidence, he’d told himself.

But now, watching you from below, everything clicked.

You weren’t a classmate he remembered having in high school.

He knew this place. Knew the names. Knew who lived and who died.

But you? You didn’t belong here.

And yet… you were here.

His chest tightened.

No. It couldn’t be. Could it?

He was supposed to be the only one. That was the price to pay.

But those eyes...

Those familiar knowing eyes. The ones that used to make him hesitate even when he was the strongest hunter alive. Like you were seeing something he hadn’t caught up to yet.

He stood so abruptly that the contents of his lunchbox went everywhere.

“I—uh, bathroom,” he said quickly, already turning.

“Again?” Sungil snorted. “You good, man?”

Jinwoo didn’t answer. He was halfway to the stairwell already.

He didn’t know how fast he was going—only that his legs carried him up two flights of stairs like muscle memory had kicked in from another life. The closer he got, the more erratic his heart pounded, not from the run, but from the what if.

What if it’s really her? What if I’m not the only one anymore?

His hand hit the door before he could slow down.

Your eyes flicked to the door before he could even burst through it.

He looked out of breath. Wild-eyed. Like he’d run from something—or toward something—he couldn’t quite believe.

And you just smiled.

The same calm smile you’d given him a lifetime ago, back when everything had been louder, heavier, soaked in shadows.

“I was starting to think you’d never notice,” you said softly.

Jinwoo froze.

His mouth opened like he was going to say something—but nothing came out. Just stunned silence. The kind where the world shifts under your feet.

There you were.

The queen of that former world.

The founder of the most powerful guild in Korea.

The girl who protected him in ways he didn’t understand during the war.

The woman who stayed when everyone else turned their backs.

Now here, in a school uniform and wind in your hair, looking at him like no time had passed at all.

He laughed—but it came out hollow, overwhelmed.

“How...?” he finally managed, voice rough.

“How are you—why do you—?”

But he couldn’t even finish the questions. Because how does anyone ask something like that?

How does he ask the past why it followed you here?

And how were you supposed to answer?

You exhaled, softly. Not as if you’d been holding your breath, but like your lungs didn’t quite know how to fill themselves properly. Like you were learning again. Like the weight in your chest was finally being seen by someone else.

You didn’t answer right away. Just looked past him, eyes settling somewhere in the distance—on the soft sprawl of the city below, or maybe a memory that lived just above the skyline.

“It’s hard to explain,” you said after a long moment. “And I’ve never... I’ve never said it out loud before.”

Jinwoo didn’t interrupt. Didn’t press.

He just waited, steady as stone, and softer than anyone else had ever been.

Your hands tightened on the railing, knuckles pale. “I don’t know about you. But to me… Time just… reset. Over and over again. I always woke up in my bedroom. Same ceiling. Same air. Same parents calling me down for breakfast like nothing had changed.”

You smiled, but it was hollow. It ghosted across your lips like something you didn’t believe in anymore.

“The first few times, I thought I was crazy. I mean, who wouldn't? One moment I’m dead, and then it’s morning again. The same morning. The same goddamn birds chirping outside my window.”

Jinwoo’s fingers curled into his palms.

You looked at him, something quiet flickering behind your eyes. “And it didn’t stop. No matter what I did. No matter how far I ran or who I saved or who I lost. Time just... snapped back. Like it was mocking me. Like I wasn’t enough.”

Your voice began to tremble at the edges, like a surface cracking.

“At first, I thought maybe I could fix it. That there was a point. That if I just made the right choices…”

You laughed—but it broke halfway out of you. Became something else. Something brittle and wet.

“But then… it just kept getting worse. The gates opened sooner. The monsters got stronger. And then—” You shook your head.

“And then Jeju happened,” you said softly, your words barely above a whisper.

Jinwoo felt his breath catch.

He remembered the insistence you had on him joining the force. “Just a hunch”, you had said.

“I don’t… I don’t really talk about it,” you murmured. “I haven’t. Not in any of my lives. Not once. I just—” You laughed a little, but it broke into a sharp inhale. “I thought maybe if I ignored it hard enough, it would stop existing.”

You leaned your weight forward against the railing, your shoulders trembling.

“I told myself it didn’t matter. That I’d moved past it. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

Jinwoo stepped forward, slowly—carefully. The rooftop wind moved around him like it knew not to interrupt.

You didn’t look at him.

“I remember the smell first. That’s always how it starts. Rot. Blood. Salt in the air. Like the sea was crying too.”

A pause.

“And then the screaming. I can’t forget the screaming. I still hear it when I sleep.”

His hands hovered near your back, unsure. Like he wanted to touch but didn’t want to break the moment.

“I wasn’t even on Jeju,” you whispered, turning slightly toward him now, eyes wide and far away. “I wasn’t one of the hunters. I was just… in a boardroom. Watching.”

Jinwoo’s throat tightened. He just stood there, arms stiff at his sides as the wind swept the rooftop.

“I saw it all. Every feed. Every scream. I watched the lines go dead. I watched people I knew blink out like they were nothing.”

Your eyes met his. Wet. Unflinching.

“And then they came for us.”

You tried to keep the tears back, but your shoulders betrayed you, trembling like a glass that had held too much for too long.

“They weren’t supposed to make it off the island. That’s what we thought. But they did. They crossed the sea like it was nothing. The cities weren’t ready. I wasn’t ready.”

Your knees gave out—but he caught you. Instinctively. Easily.

Your body stiffened for a second—but then you sagged into him. Gave in. His arms wrapped around you tightly, like he could hold you together with sheer will. Your face pressed to his chest, and your hands clutched at his sleeves like lifelines.

You clutched at the fabric of his uniform. “I didn’t even try to run. I froze. I just—stood there, staring out the window, watching people screaming in the streets. And when I saw it… when I saw it coming for me…”

Your body jolted as you broke. Sharp, silent sobs racking through your chest.

Jinwoo tightened his hold. One hand on your back. One cradling the back of your head. Steady. Anchoring.

He felt the tremble of your breath. The way you tried to be quiet, like your pain was an inconvenience. Like you were used to being alone with it.

“It was so fast,” you gasped. “But I still remember every second. I remember the glass shattering. I remember its claws. I remember thinking—this can’t be how it ends. Not again. Not like this.”

Jinwoo’s heart shattered.

And then you collapsed fully into him, and the weight of it spilled out.

Tears soaked his shirt. But he didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

He just held you. Like the world had ended in your arms, and he was the only piece left holding you to it.

He held you tighter.

“And Kamish,” you choked. “Kamish destroyed the world once. Not just a city, not just a squad—the world. I watched from behind screens, from underground shelters, from bunkers that were supposed to be safe. And every time, we thought we were prepared. We never were.”

You looked up, eyes red, voice barely audible. “I tried, Jinwoo. In some lives, I became a hunter. I thought maybe if I just… knew enough, trained enough, I could do something. Anything. But I wasn’t strong. I didn’t make a difference. I just kept watching the world end.”

Your legs folded beneath you, but this time Jinwoo followed you down, holding you even as the rooftop's cold bit through your skin. You cried harder now, like something ancient inside you was finally breaking open.

He didn’t speak. His jaw was tight. His eyes burned.

Because this—

This wasn’t a pain he could fight.

Not with blades. Not with power.

You had been alone. You had carried it all with you.

And now, shaking in his arms, you were finally letting someone see it.

He held you tighter, tucked your shaking frame into his arms like a vow.

“I’m here,” he murmured, so quietly it almost got lost in the wind. “I’m here.”

He pulled back only slightly, enough to look at you, to study the tear-streaked lines of your face. Even now—eyes red, shoulders trembling—you looked so… innocent. So light. How could someone so weighed down still look like freedom?

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You shattered again.

Sobs that cracked something in the air.

Sobs that sounded like a locked door finally being opened from the inside.

Jinwoo kept his jaw tight, eyes burning. He’d thought he was alone. That he was the only one cursed to remember the horrors of what came before. But you—god, you had remembered everything. And you hadn’t even asked for it.

He’d never understood it before, not fully. Not even when he met you the first time. Why you looked at him the way you did. Why you spoke like someone who had nothing left to fear.

But now he knew.

And something inside him shifted.

No more.

Not ever again.

Not if he could help it.

Then—

Ding.

The shrill chime of the school bell rang through the rooftop silence, jarring against the stillness that had wrapped itself around you both like a fragile cocoon. You pulled back slowly, your hands unclenching from his sleeves, your breath still trembling against the place where your face had been buried in his chest.

“I… I need to go to the bathroom,” you said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes.

Jinwoo nodded, though his throat was too tight to speak. He watched as you walked away, your steps still a little unsteady, the wind tugging gently at your sleeves like it didn’t want to let you go.

And then you were gone.

He made it to class a few minutes later, the teacher already speaking, his voice a dull drone against Jinwoo’s pulse still thrumming in his ears.

You came in shortly after.

Eyes dry. No trace of red.

No puffiness, no shine. Nothing.

Your face was calm.

Your smile soft, easy—like you hadn’t just shattered in his arms minutes ago. Like you hadn’t cracked open and bled every secret from behind your ribs.

For a second, he wondered if he had imagined it. If somehow, he had projected the weight he felt onto you.

But then—he looked down.

There, on his uniform. The faint but unmistakable mark.

Tear stains, darkened into the fabric over his heart.

You had cried.

And the evidence of it was his to carry now.

He stared at the mark, and looked over his shoulder. You shot him an easy smile across the room, and something inside him twisted.

How many times had you done this before?

How many lifetimes had you broken like that, in silence?

How many tears had fallen that no one ever saw, because you wiped them away before they reached the surface?

His chest felt heavy. Drenched in a grief that wasn’t just his own.

You had been alone for so long.

Too long.

And if he wanted to restore what the world had taken from you—

That light, that freedom in your smile—

He knew he’d have to leave you alone again.

Just for a little while.

But he promised himself—

He wouldn’t take long.

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