A full day and a half passed, and still, Han Geon-joo showed no sign of waking.

His fever was a cruel, relentless tide, rising and falling dozens of times a day, methodically shredding Sa-yoon’s last nerve. Every piteous groan that escaped Geon-joo’s lips was a fresh spark on Sa-yoon’s already raw, hyper-sensitive state, transforming him into a walking volcano. It was a simple fact: the slightest touch, the smallest bump, was enough to make him erupt with a lava-hot temper.

Worse, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes while Geon-joo was so sick, forcing himself to stay awake through the long nights. This, naturally, led to severe sleep deprivation, which only amplified his hysteria. Lee Jae-hee, apparently unable to watch Sa-yoon self-destruct any longer, finally intervened, insisting he get at least a few hours of sleep.

“I will watch over Geon-joo-ssi while you rest. Please, get some sleep. Your own condition isn’t exactly stable, Sa-yoon-ssi.”

He subtly mentioned the error progression rate, building a logical trap Sa-yoon couldn’t refuse. And he was right. This was a time when Sa-yoon had to conserve his strength. Chewing on his lip, Sa-yoon wrestled with himself for a moment before finally raising the white flag.

“Fine. Just three hours. If his fever spikes…”

“I will change the wet towels, administer the potion, and monitor his temperature. So please, go to sleep.” Lee Jae-hee recited the precise care regimen that Sa-yoon himself had been muttering nonstop, handing him a blanket.

Sa-yoon reluctantly took it, but just before he closed his eyes, he told Lee Jae-hee about the Past Life Incense. As the explanation continued, the expression on the man who could read the heavens grew complex.

“So, once Geon-joo wakes up, I’m planning on using it.”

“In that case, we will be staying here for some time, even after Geon-joo-ssi recovers.”

“Yeah. So if all hell breaks loose while I’m unconscious, I trust you to handle it.”

“You’ll continue to ignore the requests for overseas aid and the Association’s calls, I presume?”

“Yeah.” Sa-yoon yawned, the exhaustion undeniable. “I need a solid plan on my end before I decide on a new stance.”

Lee Jae-hee simply urged him to rest, promising to manage things accordingly. Sa-yoon gave Geon-joo one last look, then curled up on the sofa and surrendered to sleep. The fatigue, layered thick and heavy from the Gate, transformed into a crushing, liquid weight, pulling him under.

It was a sleep meant for recovery, and in it, Han Geon-joo appeared.

He was healthy, all traces of his illness gone, smiling as he looked back at Sa-yoon from a villa that Yen had apparently prepared. At Geon-joo’s side, the head of a small child was visible—a boy with blond hair.

‘Hyung!’

The little boy next to Geon-joo waved, his face bright as he smiled from beneath a crown of flowers he must have made. Geon-joo lifted the boy into his arms. The two of them, both devastatingly handsome, beckoned for him to come closer.

Sa-yoon found himself on a beach, waves crashing and foam swirling around his ankles. He began to walk toward them. It was a peaceful, cozy dream.

And it smelled… good.

…A good scent? Can you smell things in a dream?

The realization made his eyelashes flutter. He tried to open his eyes, but a heavy, profound slumber clung to his lids, refusing to let go. As he struggled against the weight, someone embraced him. A gentle hand swept through his hair, just as he had done for another, followed by something smooth and soft pressing small, warm pecks against the corner of his mouth.

“Mmm…”

“Go back to sleep.”

The voice was calm, without any particular rise or fall. But the sound, the tone… it was achingly, unmistakably familiar.

Sa-yoon’s eyes flew open. He shot upright—bolt!—so fast that the man leaning over him recoiled, startled.

Blink, blink.

Black pupils appeared and disappeared beneath rapidly fluttering eyelids. The way his eyes softened, looking deceptively innocent when they widened in surprise. The way he still looked like he was just trying to be an adult, having barely left his early twenties, but still had that incurable childish streak if you looked closely. And that unique, gentle warmth in his gaze, a warmth reserved only for Sa-yoon.

This was his atmosphere, his alone, something the long-haired man could never replicate.

“…Han Geon-joo.”

“Yes.”

The immediate reply was drawn out, the end of the word lingering with a hint of playfulness. Sa-yoon listened to the languid voice that seemed to make the very air drowsy, his own breath catching in his chest. Finally, he managed to speak.

“You’re… awake?”

At the question, Han Geon-joo smiled. “Technically, you’re the one who just woke up, hyung.”

“…Do I look like I’m in the mood for jokes?”

Geon-joo laughed at the reprimand—a soft, breathy sound, not the loud, rich laugh of the long-haired man. It was definitively, wonderfully his.

At last, Sa-yoon felt the gnawing, anxious hunger that had been hollowing him out for days finally, mercifully, subside. A sense of completeness, of fulfillment, washed over him. And the very next emotion to fill his newly-whole mind was, of course, sheer, unadulterated irritation.

“What the hell were you doing in that goddamn subconscious of yours that took so damned long?”

The dreamy, dazed expression on Sa-yoon’s face shattered instantly. Geon-joo, who had clearly expected the outburst, simply pushed himself up from the bed. “He said three days was actually pretty fast.”

“Who said that?”

“The me in my dream. Said he was my past life.”

Sa-yoon flinched at the casual reply, though he had absolutely no reason to. He was baffled by his own involuntary reaction, and Geon-joo, watching him with unnerving intensity, leaned in, shifting his weight. Their eyes met at an oblique, intimate angle.

“You met him, didn’t you?”

“…”

“He touched you, too.”

Geon-joo whispered this, his hand covering Sa-yoon’s, their fingers intertwining. Warmth seeped into Sa-yoon’s skin, which was always preternaturally cool after sleep. Geon-joo’s eyes remained narrowed, watching him, before he flexed his fingers, his thumb drawing slow, tickling circles on Sa-yoon’s palm. The sensation, like soft down painting his skin, made Sa-yoon twitch. He stared back, trying desperately to mask the sudden, inexplicable sense of foreboding.

Gulp.

Sa-yoon swallowed. Han Geon-joo looked… distinctly displeased. What was this about?

Wait. Don’t tell me. He found his memories and now he’s realized his past self was older than me? Is that why he’s pissy? Because I’ve been treating him like a kid this whole time? Well, what the hell was I supposed to do? He is a kid right now!

A frantic flurry of thoughts collided in his head. This emotional whiplash, from annoyance to anxiety and back, was like being thrown between a scalding bath and an ice plunge. It was too much, and his carefully maintained poker face faltered for just a second.

Geon-joo, catching the change, frowned.

He did remember! Sa-yoon’s face hardened, his expression screaming, I’m so screwed.

Just as he braced himself for the accusation, Geon-joo spoke, his voice low and sullen.

“Still, you prefer the younger guy, right?”

“…What?”

“Just say you do. A younger guy is better in a lot of ways, isn’t he? I have great stamina.”

“…?”

“Well, okay, now I might… seem a little immature. A bit like a kid. But you don’t know what I’ll be like when I’m older. Once I mature, I’m confident I’ll be more than enough to meet your standards, hyung. Besides, you have to date someone younger. That’s how you still get to be treated like a ‘hyung’ when you’re old and gray.”

He was just… rambling, his face sullen as he passionately listed the unsolicited benefits of dating a younger man. Sa-yoon was so completely dumbfounded that he could do nothing but stare. Geon-joo, noticing his silent, baffled gaze, narrowed his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

His tone was a potent cocktail of anxiety, wariness, and raw irritation. It finally, finally clicked. Sa-yoon couldn’t hide his utter bewilderment.

What kind of goddamn lunatic gets jealous of his own past self?

He knew Geon-joo was… unique, but he’d never realized his thinking was this far outside the box. He should have known, ever since Geon-joo proposed they run away together because they “understood each other’s situations.” He’d been roped in and was now paying the price for his lapse in judgment.

The sheer, cascading absurdity of it all left him speechless. Geon-joo, predictably misinterpreting his silence, squeezed his hand, his knuckles white.

“I’m just saying this in case you forgot, hyung, but that guy you met? He’s going to disappear the moment I master my powers. I’d really, really appreciate it if you didn’t get all attached just because we happen to have the same face.”

He was clearly trying to sound casual, but his anxiety was rolling off him in palpable waves. Sa-yoon couldn’t hold it in any longer. A raw bark of laughter escaped him. He raised his free hand and smacked Geon-joo squarely upside the head.

Thwack!

“Ow!” Geon-joo yelped, clutching his head, his eyes wide with profound injustice. For a rare, fleeting moment, he looked exactly like a kicked puppy. “Why’d you hit me?”

“What is going on inside that head of yours right now?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? I’m talking about that bastard! He held your hand, he hugged you, and you didn’t pull away or avoid it at all! I don’t care if we have the same face, he didn’t feel anything like me! How could you just accept all that? You’re the one who’s always saying ‘past life is past life’ and ‘present is present’! Then you should see us as separate people! My will wasn’t involved at all when he was moving my body! If he’d been awake the whole time I was unconscious, you two probably would have started making out! Does that make any sense? Your actual boyfriend is passed out cold from overexertion, and you’re about to cheat on him?”

WHACK!

“Agh! Why—!”

“This is what I get for a boyfriend,” Sa-yoon muttered, not even trying to hide his exasperated, utterly pathetic expression. He heaved a sigh and clicked his tongue. Behind him, Lee Jae-hee just shook his head, and Rai, who was lying nearby, thumped his tail against the floor in clear admonishment of Geon-joo.

Finally sensing the atmosphere, Geon-joo seemed to realize the situation wasn’t quite what he’d imagined. His expression flipped instantly, becoming indignant. “Then why did you flinch like that when I mentioned my past self?”

“…”

Now that was a difficult question to answer. Sa-yoon, feeling profoundly awkward now that Geon-joo’s ridiculous misunderstanding was cleared up, glanced uneasily at Lee Jae-hee and cleared his throat. Geon-joo’s curiosity was palpable. He was practically using his whole face to demand an answer. Sa-yoon shoved his head away. “It was nothing.”

He swallowed a small, private sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t seem to care that his past self was older than me. In fact, asking if I preferred someone younger… he seems pretty damned happy with his current age. One of his worries, at least, hadn’t come to pass.

Geon-joo, however, was now the one left frustrated. He threatened to kiss Sa-yoon if he didn’t talk, only to be met with a growled, “Are you fucking insane?” Sa-yoon grabbed him by the collar and hurled him unceremoniously to the far end of the room.

“You learn a little power in your subconscious and now you think you can climb all over me, huh?” Sa-yoon snarled, grabbing Geon-joo’s cheeks and shaking his head back and forth. The man pinned beneath him cursed and clawed at his wrists, and the scuffle began in earnest.

Keuheong.

Rai, who had been watching the spectacle, heaved a great, long-suffering sigh, tucked his front paws beneath him, and rested his head on them.

Jae-hee patted Rai’s head, his gaze settling on the two still wrestling noisily on the floor, a faint, almost invisible smile playing on his lips.

“When all is said and done, they really are fated, aren’t they?”

When Geon-joo was unconscious, Sa-yoon had been a wreck of pure, vibrating anxiety. The moment Sa-yoon had fallen asleep, Geon-joo had awakened and immediately stood vigil, watching over his ‘older’ lover with a worldly, devoted tenderness. They acted like the most inseparable couple imaginable when the other was unconscious, only to fight like this the second they were both awake. That, too, was only possible because their hearts were in the same place.

“No! Just tell me why you flinched! It’s not that hard!”

“Did you just pop a vein in your neck yelling at me? Are you trying to die?”

“Agh, Jae-hee-hyung!”

“Hyung? Hyuuuung?”

“It’s fine for Gyeongjin-hyung, but why not…!”

The villa was filled with noise. Regardless, Han Geon-joo had woken up safely, and the quiet, tense villa was once again, finally, full of life.