“What are you? I heard you took a leave of absence, so why are you here? Are you studying abroad?”

Han Geon-joo, who had been standing blankly even as the man grabbed his arm, let out a small, quiet sound of realization. It was as if he’d just now remembered the name of someone he didn’t recognize. Seemingly understanding the meaning of that sound, the dark-haired man’s jaw dropped. He looked utterly shocked.

“Don’t tell me you forgot who I am?” he asked, his voice full of betrayal. “How could you forget me, you punk?”

At that, Han Geon-joo’s brow furrowed slightly. It was a fleeting movement, washed away in an instant, but Sa-yoon, standing close by, didn’t miss the change. Nor the faint sigh that followed.

So, they’re not that close.

From the way the man was making a fuss, one would think they were the best of friends, but Geon-joo’s reaction suggested otherwise. However, that judgment was thrown into doubt by the attitude Geon-joo adopted next.

“Choi Yeon-woo. Look at you. It’s been a while.”

His voice, softer than usual, was warm and welcoming. Han Geon-joo’s lips curved into a gentle, easy smile. The man called Choi Yeon-woo beamed and slung an arm around Geon-joo’s shoulders. Both the one initiating the skinship and the one accepting it seemed perfectly accustomed to it.

“You scared me. Why’d you pretend you forgot?”

“How could I ever forget you?”

“…Whoa, that came out of nowhere.”

“When you have such a unique face.”

“You bastard.”

At the insult that came without a filter, Geon-joo laughed. Choi Yeon-woo immediately got him in a headlock in mock retaliation, but he didn’t seem to mind. Ahaha. His soft laughter was pleasant to the ear. Sa-yoon, who hadn’t moved a single step, felt as if a line had been drawn on the ground, separating him from the two of them.

The mundane and the extraordinary.

The normal and the abnormal.

It felt as if they were divided just like that.

Han Geon-joo’s behavior toward Choi Yeon-woo was unfamiliar.

“You became an Awakened? Shit, this world is so unfair. If you’re gonna be an Awakened, you should at least quit working out.”

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“If a tall, handsome guy is a hunter and he’s athletic, what does that make a guy like me? You refuse to come down from the top of the food chain, so I…”

“What are you talking about, Yeon-woo? You’re a good-looking guy.”

“…Really?”

“The world is a wide place, and there are plenty of people with peculiar tastes. Someone with a good eye for beauty will recognize your worth.”

“This son of a bitch, really.”

Perhaps it was because of this Choi Yeon-woo, who reacted so theatrically to every little jab, but Han Geon-joo seemed particularly talkative and playful. Of course, the ‘good person’ smile he flashed from time to time was obviously a mask, but the thought was overshadowed by how comfortable the atmosphere between them seemed.

What’s a mask, really?

Some people were honest and transparent in all things, while others wore masks and pretended to be nice to avoid unnecessary conflict. Just as hypocrisy, when practiced every day, can make one a good person, if Han Geon-joo always managed his image this way, then he simply was a gentle, playful, and easygoing person.

As Sa-yoon was struggling to adapt to this side of him, so starkly different from how he was by his side, Geon-joo’s gaze landed on him. Choi Yeon-woo’s eyes followed.

“Whoa, you had someone with you? You should have said something! Making me look like a fool… Uh, hello.”

Was he the type to lose track of his surroundings when focused on one thing? Choi Yeon-woo, having only just noticed Sa-yoon, bowed his head, his face full of apology. Sa-yoon just stared back at him without a word. Choi Yeon-woo scratched his head.

“Uh, I didn’t mean to ignore you, it’s just my personality… hahaha.”

His forced laugh, born of awkwardness, was incredibly clumsy, unlike someone else Sa-yoon knew. He watched with great interest, wondering how the two had ever become friends. He tried using [Eye of the Genius] just in case, but a window popped up informing him that the target was not an Awakened. He was just an ordinary person—guileless, energetic, exactly what you’d expect from a twenty-three-year-old.

As Sa-yoon was staring, fascinated by this first glimpse of one of Geon-joo’s friends, a hand landed on Choi Yeon-woo’s shoulder. The man, who had been bowing toward Sa-yoon, was yanked backwards.

“You’re making him uncomfortable.”

It was Han Geon-joo. He had pulled Choi Yeon-woo back so forcefully that his back was pressed against his own chest. He looked at Sa-yoon. Their eyes met. Perhaps because he had just been dealing with his friend, the gaze he turned on Sa-yoon held a slightly different atmosphere than usual.

Seeing them side-by-side, they’re definitely different.

When Geon-joo was next to him, he seemed immature, naive, and like a stubborn kid. But with a peer next to him, he had a leisurely air that made him stand out. He seemed both mature, wise beyond his years, and at the same time, unsettlingly unreadable.

This is certainly similar to my first impression of him.

It had been just like this when he first met Han Geon-joo. As Sa-yoon was lost in thought, Choi Yeon-woo shook off Geon-joo’s hand, complaining about him being clingy, and bowed his head once more.

“It’s a bit weird to keep standing here. How about we go somewhere to talk? It’s not much of an apology, but I’ll buy you coffee!”

Did this kid also serve in the military?

He had a rigid discipline that Sa-yoon never sensed from Geon-joo. Sa-yoon silently looked down at the back of his round, potato-like head and let the corner of his mouth lift. Hearing the faint chuckle, Choi Yeon-woo slowly raised his head. Sa-yoon held out a credit card to the man, who looked both scared and apologetic.

“I’m not so poor that I need to be treated by a child. Just lead the way to a cafe.”

He was something of a mentor to Geon-joo; it would be shameless to let his friend treat him. It was so shameless that his long-lost conscience would probably return just to scold him. At the sight of the card, Choi Yeon-woo’s eyes lit up. He bowed deeply, like a butler, and declared he would escort them to the cafe. His polite demeanor made it hard to believe he was friends with Han Geon-joo.

“He has a nice personality,” Sa-yoon murmured. At that, Han Geon-joo wrinkled his nose, as if displeased again, and grabbed his wrist.

“Why are we going to a cafe? The Gate is going to open soon.”

“We still have six hours. He’s a friend you haven’t seen in a long time. You deserve some time to catch up.”

“I don’t need anything like that.”

“When your hyung is offering, you should just take it, Pretty Boy.”

He tapped Geon-joo’s chest with the card. His expression turned strange. He tilted his head, his finger tracing a circle on Sa-yoon’s wrist. The light touch made Sa-yoon freeze.

“What are you thinking?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t think anything weird.”

“What would I be thinking?”

He hadn’t thought anything that Geon-joo would find strange. The accusatory tone, as if he were treating him like some delusional person, made him snap back irritably. Geon-joo sighed and pulled on his wrist.

“You haven’t forgotten what I said, have you? I’m the most honest when I’m with you, hyung.”

“…”

Did he learn how to read minds?

The statement was so perceptive it would have startled a ghost. Sa-yoon stared straight into his eyes for a moment, then patted his shoulder placatingly, murmuring that he understood, before leading him towards the cafe.

He hadn’t frozen because he’d taken Geon-joo’s statement—that he was being honest with his friend—at face value. It was just that even his masked self, the one that wasn’t being honest, looked so at ease. Seeing Han Geon-joo with a friend his own age looked so much more stable than when he was by his side. A flood of thoughts rushed through him.

The Han Geon-joo who was with him, as honest as he was, was also transparent in his anxiety and recklessness. And he made no effort to hide it.

He might cause a serious incident one day.

If that was the case, wouldn’t it be better for him to live safely and stably, even if it meant wearing a mask like this?

There were six hours and five minutes left until the Gate opened. Sa-yoon squeezed his eyes shut then opened them, his grip on Geon-joo’s arm tightening. He tried not to think pointless thoughts, but one kept surfacing.

No, it wasn’t a thought. It was a certain fact.

If he had never met him, Han Geon-joo would have been more at ease, and he would have been happier.

Am I supposed to be glad that you’re honest with me?

He swallowed the retort and looked blankly at Choi Yeon-woo’s back as he walked ahead.

He wanted to see him again, talking comfortably with a friend he hadn’t seen in ages. He wanted to, just once, picture what Han Geon-joo might have been like if they’d never met.

If he could picture what this Han Geon-joo would be like without him, then, after that…

…what would change?

Even if the Han Geon-joo who had never met him was truly happy and whole, nothing would change. Only his own feelings would be slightly different. And still, he would have the ‘The True Evil of Humanity?’ disposition, the Gate would open, and Han Geon-joo would be his Supporter.

Feeling a vortex of emotions, Sa-yoon’s grip on Geon-joo’s arm loosened. His hand slipped away, about to fall, but Geon-joo’s hand shot out and caught his. Contact was re-established, skin against skin. He turned his head without thinking and saw Han Geon-joo’s somewhat pale face.

Reading the emotion clearly displayed onto that face, Sa-yoon sucked in a breath.

Ah.

You’re anxious.

You, and me too.

We’re both anxious because we don’t know what the future that’s about to hit us will be like.

Realizing what lay at the center of the emotional vortex, Sa-yoon hesitated, then squeezed Han Geon-joo’s hand tighter. More forcefully than before.

The entrance to the cafe looked like the black maw of a Gate.