Astonishment, shock, suspicion, bewilderment. Rifling through charts, the doctor failed to manage his expression, letting out deflated little groans as he stared at Sihyeon in front of him. It made no sense, and yet the exposed left leg showed nothing but a light graze. He had seen it with his own eyes when the patient was transported in—twisted so badly the white of the bone showed, beyond anything they could do.But then how on earth was he supposed to explain this spotless leg?In truth, there were plenty of things he couldn’t make sense of besides that. By the time the patient arrived he’d already stopped breathing; rigor mortis had set in; he was, by every measure, perfectly dead. Though he’d been drenched in blood, anyone could recognize at a glance who had been wheeled in. How could they not. A member of a famous idol group whose face popped up in commercials, dramas, variety shows without fail. Watching a man like that brought into the ER as a chilling corpse felt unreal; for several seconds everyone could only stand there blankly and not move—exactly one week ago.It was the next day, when they went down to the morgue to conduct an autopsy to determine the cause of death after confirming identity. Somewhere—bang!—a noise, and his spine went ice-cold. He tried to laugh it off, thinking he’d misheard, but the nurse beside him had gone sheet-white; it wasn’t a hallucination. The banging came again and again, bang, bang, and its source was the freezer where Lee Sihyeon’s body had been stored the night before. With a hand trembling so badly it shook, he slowly pulled the freezer handle, and in that instant—those eyes!He barely managed to swallow the urge to shriek like a fool—Eek!—and watched as the young man knitted his brows against the glare, then immediately contorted in pain and shut his eyes. He remembers snatching for the pulse in a panic, feeling it thud, thud under his fingers, and then shouting to get this patient out of there right now. After that, time rushed past in a blur.The body that had been damaged beyond hope was, unlike the last time he saw it, normal save for some localized bruising. He ordered the photos they’d taken as potential evidence in a traffic fatality, but the stored photos were nowhere to be found. He’d been so rattled he almost wondered if the leg, the wrecked body—had all been a dream.“Are you feeling any better?”When Sanyoo asked the doctor with a worried face, the doctor snapped out of it and jerked his head up. Off to the side, Euihyun was frowning like, Can we even trust this guy?Ahem. After a short cough, the doctor spoke: transient memory impairment due to the accident; no issues with overall health; as for PTSD, let’s observe a little longer.Even with the doctor saying he was fine, they all stared at Sihyeon on the bed with worried, expressionless faces. He’d hit them with the “Where am I, who am I, who are you” triple combo, then suddenly bolted to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and had been like that ever since. When spoken to he wouldn’t answer, his gaze unfocused—just like he’d been right before the accident—and that resemblance made them quietly uneasy.“…Doctor.”“Y-yes? Me… you mean me?”“Yes. I think I… had a younger sister….”“Ah! You remember? She’s currently admitted at our hospital. It’s just… her condition suddenly…”“Is something wrong with her?”“Well…”With a body that frail, she’d cried until she collapsed; of course she wasn’t fine. After she fainted, her fever had spiked badly and she still hadn’t regained consciousness. At that, Sihyeon fell silent for a moment. Their worry flared again. Whatever else could be said, he seemed to be ferocious when it came to his sister. They couldn’t state it flatly because none of them had heard it from him directly. He was a member who, from the start, had never said a word about himself. Even after two years together, it was like hitting a wall—he was full of things they couldn’t make heads or tails of.Even so, they knew that every few days, no matter what, he carved out the time.He never said it, but everyone knew those hours were for visiting his frail younger sister.“Can I go see her?”At the sight of that somehow desolate face asking, the doctor nodded several times before he even thought. There were too many things he couldn’t understand, and for a moment he’d forgotten them all; when asked with a face like that, what else could he say but that anything would be fine. He knew calling a man “beautiful” was an odd adjective, but faced with Sihyeon’s features he couldn’t think of anything else. So this is why celebrities are celebrities.No sooner ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) had he given permission than the body rising from the bed took a few steps and then wavered.He reached out—too late—and, as ever, Chan moved faster, silent. With a blank face he caught the wrist; the hand at the waist was surprisingly careful. Somehow feeling like an actual patient (and he was a patient), Sihyeon knit his brows, went “fine,” and shook the hand off, but seeing Chan stubbornly come back to support him, he let out a small sigh and visibly let his weight rest in that grasp.The body language of someone who knows it’s easier when you give up quickly.—Her pallid face was even whiter than it had been in the dream. Anyone could see the short, faint breaths were a pitiful sight, but the face looking down at her was expressionless.He’d rather she not exist at all, but faced with a girl who existed in the flesh, reality finally reached his skin.He couldn’t say how it had happened. Right after the accident, when he opened his eyes, he was already like this. Even so, it was certain he had come into this man’s body. He didn’t know how to get out, and it seemed he’d made something like a promise.Well, then there’s nothing for it, is there.By nature, Lee Hajin wasn’t a terribly serious man. He was relentless about things that had to be done, but apart from that he was quick to give up and had a profoundly detached temperament. Even as he flew off the guardrail to his death, his only bland impression was, Ah, so I die like this.The white hand of the man he’d always seen in dreams was now his own as it stroked the girl’s cheek.“Hi.”His voice was a light tenor with an edge to it, but it fell naturally into a gentle tone. It was the voice that had always called to this girl.Up close, she looked even smaller than he’d thought. She acts tough, but she’s still so young. The man’s voice rose slowly in his mind and sank away. The hand that had been tracing her cheek slid, gliding down to the slender neck. A neck that looked like it would snap with the slightest pressure. As he stared down at it in silence, Sihyeon’s face was briefly colored with a sinister light.He’d accepted there was nothing for it—but the feeling of having been scammed pissed him off all the same. If he broke this neck as it was—if, after death, the man who’d fretted over his younger sister learned she had perished, breath cut off in vain—would he turn into a vengeful ghost and come back to haunt Hajin’s dreams? It was a plausible story.The thin neck fit softly in his hand.Death is this light.Lee Hajin had seen such deaths to the point of boredom since he was a child. With a father who was head of an organization and a hard, ruthless mother who had driven out the legal wife and clawed her way into that high seat, he’d grown up without knowing what affection was. He had no great ambition and no fiery pride, but because of his mother’s screaming he had no choice but to bide his time while occupying a suitable position. Hwain Finance. A pretty name for what, in plain words, was loan-sharking. There were always people in need of money in this world, and luring them in and sucking them to the marrow was easier than breathing.He knew the faces of people sunk in despair.And what became of them in the end.Unpleasant memories crept out, snakelike. For someone like him to be begged—please protect her, please—it was beyond ridiculous.“……”Even so.There’s nothing for it, he seemed to say again. Hajin released the hand clutching the girl’s neck and let his face return to calm. He knew it would have been pointless venting.A face sleeping with no idea how close it had come to death looked pitiful. Seeing her brother’s cold face—she must have felt like the world collapsed.“Wake up soon.”Wake up, and please, for once. You and your brother both.“Stop crying, and smile.”I told you—I’ll keep you safe.***Do you normally change personality when you lose your memory? Watching Sihyeon in a patient gown fiddle with a smartphone, searching for something like his life depended on it, it was hard not to wonder.To begin with, Sihyeon disliked being around other people.He had no choice in the van or on stage when they had to move together, but back at the dorm he usually went straight into his room and didn’t come out. And that was when he actually stuck to the dorm; most of the time, he didn’t come back. Not only did he run events and stages alone, skirting the edge of breaching contract, there were even rumors he was selling his body to sponsors several connections out. Everyone had a fit trying to stop him, shouting, Are you actually out of your mind? Why are you going around doing that kind of crap?—and he sent one sentence flying back at Euihyun:Because I need money.With just that, he’d gone into his room, leaving them speechless with anger.So Sihyeon’s relationship with the members kept souring, and of course the fans knew. The bad rumors that had been whispered behind hands spread at a gallop, and the few fans they still had fell away; it was inevitable. Even so, Sihyeon walked around as if nothing were wrong, chin held stiff, and whether people took offense at that attitude or not, the rumors around him swelled and warped, growing malicious.It was self-inflicted; there was nothing to say in his defense.“What kind of name is this?”Staring at the phone screen, Sihyeon knit his brows and tossed the line. It turned out he’d been reading up on Lemegeton this whole time. Something about that was oddly cute; watching him, he tilted his head and then spoke again.“Lemegeton, shortened to Reton. Five-member male idol group. Leader, Amon. Zepar, Kaim, Serre, Ose.”“Ah. Those are stage names, stage names.”“Stage names?”“Yeah. Most people promote under a stage name instead of their legal name.”Sanyoo said it as he naturally sat beside Sihyeon and bent closer. The shared warmth wasn’t unpleasant, and Sihyeon stayed still, looking back at him; pleased by that, Sanyoo’s gentle smile was pure celebrity. Even a Hajin who ordinarily didn’t care about other people’s faces had to admit the four of them were not merely handsome—there was something so dazzling it could take a stranger’s breath away.“Here, look.”Sanyoo began tapping the names on the phone, reciting them one by one.“Amon is Euihyun—Kang Euihyun. Twenty-three. He’s the one who cried the moment you woke up. (Ah, I didn’t fucking cry!) Oh, you didn’t? Anyway, funnily enough he’s the team leader; he raps and stuff.”“Zepar is me. People usually say Ze-oppa, but do you remember my name? I’m Sanyoo. Lee Sanyoo. It’s important, so even if you forget Kang Euihyun, make sure you remember my name, Sihyeon. (You wanna die for real?) I’m the same age as Euihyun.”“Kaim is you. Your name is Lee Sihyeon, and you’re twenty-two right now. Anything you’re curious about? …Mm, okay. If you want to know something later, ask.”“Serre is Seo Rajoon. That puppy who’s been whining and tailing you all this time. This is a secret, but Rajoon… likes you a lot. (Ah, hyung!) No? Then I must have gotten it wrong. Sihyeon, Rajoon says he doesn’t like you. (No! I do like him! Ah!) So he says. He looks young, but he’s twenty—a legal adult.”“Last, Ose is Yoo Chan over there. His face is always like that, so he gets misunderstood a lot, but he’s just quiet. He might actually be the most mature of us—and maybe older than Kang Euihyun. (Ha, fuck….) He’s still nineteen. Surprising for that build, right? A few weeks and he’ll be an adult, though.”“Got it?”He’d always been good at memorizing. As he nodded, carving the rapid-fire explanations into his head, a hand ruffled his hair like good job. Wondering if they’d always been this close, he dropped his gaze back to the phone; the looks the others gave him were odd.A face that used to flinch and bare its quills at the slightest touch was now relaxed, as if it were nothing.Hesitating, Rajoon scurried over and carefully touched the white hand lying on the sheet. After a moment’s gauging, he slid his fingers in and held it; soon the gaze followed. Glassy pupils—the chill that had always been in his eyes.“Why?”And as if that had all been a lie, he didn’t shake the hand off; he asked again in a mild voice.“Just… because I like it….”Silly. He clicked his tongue lightly and lowered his eyes, but still didn’t pull free. Rajoon kept smoothing the warm hand with its soft, pulsing beat, smiling as if in relief. The bloodless, stiff back of the hand; the fingertips that had been so cold they trembled. As if erasing those unwholesome memories.

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