* * *

It wasn’t exactly through legitimate means that I stayed at Polwel’s villa.

Just attempting even a hint of the word “legal” would’ve tipped off Cha Junseong, the ever-watchful powerhouse of the Cha family, and I couldn’t risk revealing either my survival or my location.

Perhaps that’s why those who had helped me wanted me to refrain from contacting anyone in Korea until they could tidy up the situation after I returned.

There was no way I could repay their kindness with betrayal, so I had no choice but to comply.

The problem was that things didn’t go smoothly even after my return.

They say misfortune strikes at the worst times.

As I was about to head back to Korea, the timing couldn’t have been worse.

The day of a massive, unprecedented gate incident—dubbed ‘The Wound of Early Summer’ in the original work—was fast approaching.

Knowing a catastrophe of this magnitude was coming, I couldn’t just sit by idly even while in Korea.

So, I devised some strategies with Polwel’s cooperation to minimize civilian casualties.

Thanks to their help, I managed to make some small progress.

Up until that point, everything had gone relatively well…

“How did things end up like this…?”

Seeing Eunsoo in front of me, trembling uncontrollably, muttering incoherent words, and unable to properly grasp me, I realized I had to do something.

Something shocking, something to snap him out of it.

With my hands held tightly, it had to be something I could do without using them.

If possible, something that could send a message.

Before I could think further, my body moved on its own.

Out of sheer embarrassment, I made sure it sounded playful, letting out a soft “smack” as I pulled back from his lips.

Lowering my heels to the ground, I opened my eyes slowly, unsure of what expression to make, so I smiled faintly instead.

“See? It’s nothing.”

I said it casually, but half of it was a lie. It wasn’t “nothing.”

My heart was pounding wildly.

If I were in my old body, I might’ve fainted on the spot.

It felt like I’d done something terribly wrong.

If just a simple kiss on the lips could feel this overwhelming, Eunsoo’s long-awaited kiss was truly daunting.

Still, wasn’t this enough to dispel the misunderstanding that I had run away because I hated him?

“…”

It seemed to work, as Eunsoo went quiet.

Sneaking a glance at him, I noticed his face turning visibly red.

He stared at me, wide-eyed, unable to even blink.

Eventually, his entire neck flushed bright crimson, as if it might burst.

I felt embarrassed too, but seeing Eunsoo so adorably flustered made me break into a wide grin.

“Sorry. I must’ve worried you a lot by leaving so suddenly. Once this gate situation is resolved, I’ll explain everything to you.”

Eunsoo had grown so much in the past half-year, both in height and build, yet his demeanor hadn’t changed much.

He reminded me of a large dog reuniting with its owner after a long absence.

I had worried about how to face him again out of guilt, but now that we’d met, all I felt was joy.

“Then… Can I keep loving you, Hyung?”

“…Huh?”

Heat rushed to my face belatedly.

Preoccupied with calming the overly excited Eunsoo, I hadn’t properly registered his words.

But thinking about it now, wasn’t that a passionate confession of love?

“Eunsoo… loves me?”

I loved Eunsoo too, but I had a feeling the “love” he was talking about was different from mine.

How should I respond?

I stood there, stunned, unable to speak, until Eunsoo drooped like a scolded puppy and asked again.

“…Is it not okay?”

“Ah, no… It’s your heart. I can’t just… tell you what to do about it…”

Honestly, it was difficult.

Why me, of all people?

Why would Eunsoo harbor such feelings for someone like me?

But it wasn’t something I could simply approve or deny.

People’s feelings don’t switch on and off so easily, do they?

Even I had come close to crossing the line with Espers several times, despite knowing Eunsoo was a man.

Maybe Eunsoo, still inexperienced in sorting out his emotions, was confusing familial love with romantic love.

I’d have to clear things up once we got home.

‘I thought he’d be angry or confrontational the moment he saw me, but that’s not it.’

I wasn’t sure if I should feel relieved or not.

“Then…”

“Hmm?”

“Can you do it one more time?”

“Do what?”

“That thing you just did.”

The thing I just did… the kiss on the lips, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t entirely out of the question, but it wasn’t something I could do so easily either.

“Don’t want to?”

As I hesitated, Eunsoo leaned toward me.

His face, familiar yet unfamiliar, suddenly loomed closer.

“…He’s grown so much.”

Eunsoo was at the peak of his growth.

I’d watched his progress through photos, but seeing him in person, he felt different.

He said it was okay to treat him like a kid, but how could I, when he’d grown this much?

“I won’t think anything strange. Just as a greeting. It’s been a while since we met, right?”

In this land of Confucian values, who uses kisses as greetings?

‘…Though I can’t exactly criticize him, considering my past actions.’

The truth was, Eunsoo’s fixation on kisses was entirely my fault for showing him strange things.

His earlier outburst was also because I left at the worst possible time.

It’s not like it’s a real kiss.

Just a peck.

That should be fine, right?

“Alright.”

He cupped Eunsoo’s face with both hands as it drew closer.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he carefully pressed their lips together.

He worried he might miss, but fortunately, the warm, soft sensation met his expectations.

Though, perhaps because of all the emotional turmoil Eunsoo had been through, his lips felt a bit rough.

Something felt off.

Kissing wasn’t supposed to be a big deal—he’d done it countless times while guiding espers through the mucous membrane process.

Yet, his chest was strangely fluttering.

“Mm.”

The fluttering grew too intense to keep their lips connected for long.

He tried to pull away, but suddenly, Eunsoo’s hands gripped his cheeks, holding him in place.

Then, something damp brushed against his lips.

Startled, he quickly pushed against Eunsoo’s chest.

“Th-that’s not okay.”

“Not okay…?”

He was sure he pushed him, yet why didn’t they seem farther apart?

Their noses were nearly touching, breaths mingling.

He had to push harder to finally create some distance, stepping back a couple of paces.

Had his little one’s gaze always been… this shadowy?

“Th-this place is dangerous. Let’s, uh, go home, and then, maybe…”

“Home…?”

Eunsoo, who had looked sullen when he stepped back, suddenly perked up at the mention of “home.”

But before long, he clutched his abdomen and let out a pained groan.

That’s when it struck him—Eunsoo was seriously injured.

Worse, he’d overexerted himself in the Gate, as faint traces of blood seeped through.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of it,” Eunsoo said calmly, unwrapping the bandages with practiced hands and reapplying fresh ones.

He even used some clotting agent he’d brought along, and the bleeding stopped quickly.

But what difference did it make? The fact remained that his Eunsoo was hurt.

‘…This hurts.’

Even from his clueless perspective, the injuries were bad.

Of course, they’d have to be—he’d undergone surgery, after all.

The idea that this strong, capable boy had been hurt so badly, that someone who should be focused on recovery was out in such a dangerous place, and that he’d gone through such emotional suffering because of him—all of it sat heavily in his chest.

“Hyung.”

“H-huh?”

Wait, it wasn’t “uncle” anymore?

Now it was “hyung”?

Considering the age gap between Yang Heewoon and Eunsoo, “hyung” was technically more accurate.

When Eunsoo had first called him “mister,” he’d been shocked.

But now that it was “hyung,” it felt… embarrassing somehow.

“I love you.”

Ah.

For a moment, his mind went blank.

He stared at Eunsoo’s face in a daze before lowering his gaze.

He’d always thought Eunsoo didn’t fully understand “love” yet.

He was a boy who had been isolated for too long, someone who hadn’t received familial love in ages.

It wouldn’t be strange if he mistook familial love for romantic love or committed the folly of trying to kiss him.

But he had been wrong.

He’d misjudged everything.

‘How did I not realize Eunsoo would have the same look in his eyes as the three people who confessed to me before…?’

There was no other way to interpret it—Eunsoo harbored the same kind of feelings for him.

When had it started?

When did Eunsoo begin to look at him like this?

All he could remember were Eunsoo’s endearingly cute expressions.

At this point, their years together felt like his karmic debt.

‘What do I do? We practically slept together every night.’

Not just sharing a bed but hugging each other.

They had kissed countless times, exchanged “I love yous” endlessly, and even bathed together.

What had Eunsoo been thinking during all those moments?

‘Right… He’s 19 now… basically an adult.’

In his past life, his adolescence had been lonely and powerless.

He had yearned for even one adult to show him affection—someone who would say and show they loved him unconditionally.

Someone who would welcome him home, share small talk, and always be on his side.

That’s why he’d wanted to be that adult for Eunsoo.

He had projected his desires onto the boy.

It was, in a sense, self-satisfaction.

But Eunsoo wasn’t him.

If anything, Eunsoo stood in stark contrast to who he was.

It was inevitable that his actions would lead to unintended consequences.

“I missed you,” Eunsoo said.

He missed him too.

There hadn’t been a single day when Eunsoo wasn’t on his mind.

Morning, noon, and night, he constantly wondered how Eunsoo was doing.

But… just as his “I love you” differed from Eunsoo’s, his “I missed you” also carried a different meaning.

He didn’t want to hurt Eunsoo, who had already suffered so much.

How could he draw the line?

“Why aren’t you saying anything…?”

Eunsoo looked worried as he hesitated in silence.

-Bee-beep! Bee-beep!

An urgent sound came from the wristwatch Eunsoo was wearing.

It seemed the espers had finally established communication inside the Gate.

“Yes, this is Kim Miri… I’m near the entrance.”

A familiar name.

So they were working together now.

It was a bittersweet realization—Eunsoo had truly become an adult, a member of society.

“…I have it, but does it have to be me?”

Eunsoo’s gaze turned toward him.

Was he reluctant to leave because he was worried about leaving him alone?

Hurriedly, he gestured that he was fine.

“No, please don’t. It’s okay. I’ll handle it.”

But it seemed to be of little use.

The next voice sounded distinctly urgent.

* * *