* * *
“Didn’t I clearly tell you not to do that?”
“Heewoon was too anxious, so I had to. Look, his expression has improved a lot.”
“Yeah, I feel better now. Thanks to you, I feel relieved.”
“…”
If Rex hadn’t opened up to me right away, I might have been floundering miserably.
But right now, I felt great.
I smiled at Eunsoo, unable to help myself, but his face still held a look of disapproval.
“Heewoon, if you ever want to see me, just call. I’ll come running anytime.”
“Ugh, just get out already.”
Eunsoo grimaced and shoved Rex out by his back, practically pushing him out the door.
Their squabbling looked so much like a pair of close brothers that I found myself laughing without realizing it.
Then suddenly, I locked eyes with Cha Junseong, who had been waiting for Rex outside the door.
He smiled at me, a gentle, melting expression.
That smile was enough.
I was certain.
Amidst these people, I wasn’t an outsider. Even after all these years, they hadn’t left me behind.
After the three Espers left, the test results came in.
I was declared to be in excellent health, with no notable issues.
It made me wonder if entering the Gate had just been a strange dream.
…Though it must have been real, given that there were articles about it.
My survival was such an unprecedented case that I was advised to stay in the hospital for one more day, just in case.
Eunsoo seemed displeased about not being able to return home quickly but didn’t object.
However, he clearly couldn’t stand the hospital food.
“If we were at home, we wouldn’t have to eat this. I should have packed a lunch.”
“No, this was fine.”
“It’s not.”
The taste was a bit bland, but compared to other hospital meals I’ve had, it was pretty decent.
Still, it didn’t seem to meet Eunsoo’s standards.
He went on and on about ingredients, nutritional balance, and how anything he made would be several times better and healthier.
His pouty lips sticking out in stubbornness were so typical of Eunsoo, and it was kind of adorable.
At times like this, he seemed like a child trapped in an adult’s body.
When I gently held his hand, the pout vanished in an instant.
As if he hadn’t been complaining a second ago, he busied himself with fiddling with my hand.
“When we get home, I’ll make you something truly delicious. Just tell me what you want.”
Even though I had just finished eating, the mention of food made my mouth water.
There was so much I wanted to eat.
Too much, really.
“For starters, I want ramen.”
“…Hmm.”
His expression clearly said he didn’t approve of instant noodles, but it couldn’t be helped.
Ramen had sustained me in both my past life and this one.
It’s the food that always came to mind when I was abroad.
…Even if he says no, I’ll just sneak some later.
“And I’ve been craving your spicy doenjang-jjigae. Really spicy.”
“Alright. I can make it quickly, so I’ll cook it for you as soon as we’re home tomorrow. Anything else?”
“Anything spicy and Korean. Western food doesn’t suit me—I really struggled with it. Korean food is the best for Koreans, after all. Sure, there are Korean restaurants abroad, but they just don’t taste like home…”
The floodgates opened, and all the frustrations from my six months away came spilling out like a waterfall.
I held onto Eunsoo and chattered endlessly.
Eunsoo responded appropriately while tidying up the area.
After washing his hands, he came back to my side.
Smiling warmly, he placed his freshly washed, cool hand on my cheek.
“But you did well, didn’t you? I heard about it. You worked out hard, ate properly even when the food didn’t suit your taste, all because you wanted to get stronger. That’s amazing.”
It was only after hearing Eunsoo’s words that I remembered: for me, it had been just a few days ago, but for Eunsoo, it had been five years.
Maria and Elliot were close to him, so they must have told him how I’d been doing.
While I was at a loss for words, Eunsoo gently studied my face, his eyes softening.
“You’ve become prettier.”
My face flushed with heat.
Nothing was more embarrassing than being complimented on my appearance by Eunsoo.
How pretty could I have gotten, really?
All I’d done was fill out enough to not look like a withered winter tree branch anymore.
In contrast, Eunsoo had truly grown into himself.
He would turn heads wherever he went.
He had always been popular, but now… his skills, looks, and the mature aura he exuded made me think he could even succeed in politics if he suddenly decided to enter the field.
Eunsoo’s gaze as he looked at me was warm.
It felt genuine, which made it even more embarrassing.
Desperate to change the topic, I blurted out, “Um, Eunsoo.”
“Yes?”
“Is it okay for you to keep staying here with me? You seem busy. I can manage on my own.”
“It’s fine. No one will say anything if I take a few days off. I mean, not that I’m ignoring fieldwork… but I worked really hard while you weren’t here, so I deserve a little break.”
Eunsoo spoke casually, but the way he mentioned “not ignoring fieldwork” struck a chord in my heart.
I had once said to him, “Eunsoo, this is the field.”
Maybe he had held onto those words all this time.
Even though it was practically my final remark before my death, even though it might have left a scar on his heart… five years had passed.
Rex had whispered to me, too.
“Eunsoo really went through a lot.”
“So take good care of him.”
“Just your presence is enough to make him happy, but still, do more for him.”
As I replayed Rex’s words in my mind, a chilling sense of unease crept over me.
Eunsoo’s roughened hands, his markedly calmer demeanor despite the years gone by, his nonchalant attitude about taking time off because he worked so hard—all of it.
And then there was me, alive despite being swallowed by a monster.
A weight settled in my chest.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Eunsoo, did you go through a lot while I was gone?”
“Well, I couldn’t exactly live comfortably knowing what happened to you. Especially since it’s been five years.”
His voice was calm, as if stating the obvious, as if asking why I would even question it.
“Of course, it wasn’t just me. Those guys—you know, they act all grown-up around you, but they’re not. When they first saw you, they cried their eyes out. They didn’t even cry in the room for fear of waking you up; they made a scene in the hallway instead, attracting a crowd. With how famous they are, I wouldn’t be surprised if videos of it are circulating by now.”
That composed response only made my chest feel tighter.
Something was off.
Eunsoo had changed. Drastically.
It wasn’t about his appearance but his inner self.
Why wasn’t he talking about himself at all?
Why only about the Espers?
The Eunsoo I knew believed the world revolved around him.
He was a genius who knew he was brilliant, selfish, stubborn, and self-absorbed—unyielding and firm.
Sure, he softened a bit while staying with me and opening his heart, but not like this. This was too much.
People don’t change so easily.
There’s a reason for sayings like “a leopard can’t change its spots” or “people aren’t recyclable.”
Though this world operates under slightly different rules—it’s a world tagged with “regretful seme,” meant to show people changing and provide satisfaction to readers.
Still, the three Espers were fundamentally good people even in the original story.
They just brought out the worst in each other, leading to disaster.
But as for Eunsoo… his stubbornness meant he might forgive, but his personality wouldn’t change.
For Eunsoo to have changed this much…
“Eunsoo.”
“I’ll show you the video if I find it later. Seriously, espers are way too good at hiding their emotions.”
“Eunsoo, tell me about yourself.”
“…About myself?”
“How have you been? In the five years I wasn’t around.”
Eunsoo closed his mouth tightly.
His pursed lips and slightly furrowed brows made it clear he didn’t want to talk.
But I had to know. No matter what, I needed to find out.
“You’re famous. In the six months I spent abroad, I never had to worry about how you were doing or how you were growing up. Every move you made was all over the internet. So it’s not like it’s hard for me to piece together the last five years. If there’s something I need to hear, you might as well tell me directly now.”
Even though the climax of the original story had passed, this world hadn’t fallen into decline.
Civilization remained intact, with infrastructure like the internet and smartphones still functioning as usual.
During the half year I obsessed over Eunsoo while working as Elizabeth Polwel’s secretary, my research skills improved dramatically.
I was confident I could compile everything Eunsoo had done over the past five years, month by month, in just three hours.
“There’s really nothing worth telling you, hyung.”
“Everything about you is worth knowing to me. Tell me.”
“…You haven’t changed one bit, hyung.”
“What?”
“That’s why I didn’t want to talk. Your reaction is so predictable, and there’s nothing good to come of it.”
* * *
