Chapter 5
Unlike me—dry and worn to the core—Namhae, who overflows with emotion to the point of excess, might be willing to go this far for something like an ex-girlfriend who disappeared four years ago. But I have no need for that. That’s not what I want.
Once, I longed to return.
Then, to survive.
After that, for revenge—and even atonement.
But what I want now… is rest.
I wouldn’t mind falling asleep.
I wouldn’t even mind never waking up again.
Still, no matter how indifferent I’ve become, I know it would be rude to tell someone who cried in relief at my return that I want to die.
So instead, I changed the subject.
“I don’t know why you’re going this far for me, but you don’t have to.”
“…What?”
“You don’t need to act like my guardian. You heard them—I’ve lived for decades. I can take care of myself without you.”
“……”
He had always shown me a range of emotions—crying, laughing, getting angry—but now, one by one, those expressions were wiped from his face. Still, I pressed on.
“Besides, you have your own life. You’re a public figure, aren’t you? You don’t have to feel responsible just because your long-forgotten ex showed up again.”
“Ha….”
“If rumors start about us, it’ll only hurt you. You already got injured because of me. I don’t want that. So let’s just… pretend we don’t know each other.”
“Hey.”
I don’t think I’ve spoken this much in decades. It felt rough, like scraping away layers of dust inside my mouth with a dry tongue.
I ignored the discomfort and kept going, but the more I spoke, the colder Namhae’s expression became. Finally, he cut me off.
“What? Forget you? Ex-girlfriend? Pretend we don’t know each other? Who decided that? Ha, I’m getting mad just thinking about it.”
He clenched his teeth for a moment, as if suppressing something boiling up inside him, then forced his expression to relax.
“Let me make this clear. I’ve never forgotten you. We never broke up. So you’re still my girlfriend, and pretending not to know each other is out of the question.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the way he refuted each point one by one.
“When everyone else said you were dead, I couldn’t give up on you. I ran around like a madman, saying I’d find your body at least. And now you’re standing right here in front of me, alive—and you think I’d just let you go that easily?”
“I….”
“And not even for some other reason, but for me? Do you still not know me at all? Ha. Hey, Yeo Juhyeon.”
His tone was gentle—almost soft—but his words were razor-sharp.
“I can’t give you up. I won’t. So if anyone’s going to give up… it’s you.”
After declaring that firmly, he paused, then suddenly relaxed his expression and shifted the topic entirely. His emotions—and his train of thought—changed at dizzying speed.
“Come to think of it, you might be decades older mentally, but your body is still nineteen, right?”
Well… that was true. And even mentally, it wasn’t as if I’d truly aged properly—those years had passed without real social interaction. If anything, my mind hadn’t matured so much as dulled. In that sense, my mental age might still be closer to nineteen than to middle-aged.
It seemed Namhae had reached the same conclusion.
“So you’re still nineteen, and I’m twenty-three now. That means I’m older.”
The sharpness in his expression vanished, replaced by a playful grin.
“Call me oppa.”
…What? Just a moment ago he said formalities felt distant.
Do you even have a conscience?
According to the Hunter Association researchers, I’m still physically nineteen. If anything, Namhae—who’s actually twenty-three—should be the more mature one. So why does he seem like the child here?
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
I cut him off coldly, and he pouted. A breath slipped out of me. How was someone like this considered a ticking time bomb by the Association?
“You heard it earlier. I’m not the Yeo Juhyeon you used to know anymore. …Honestly, the way you’re acting—it means nothing to me.”
Even though he rushed over as soon as he heard about me, cried for me, stayed by my side—
I couldn’t feel even the slightest bit of emotion.
“So stop playing at being lovers. I don’t need it, and I can’t go along with it.”
I sharpened my words as much as possible without making them outright lies. Deliberately choosing the cruelest phrasing, I stole a glance at him.
Would this hurt him? Of course it would. Unlike me, his heart was like a full lake—throw a stone into it, and it would ripple violently.
Still, it would be better for him in the long run to get hurt now and let go. Even for someone like me, with no attachment left to the world, I could at least do this much—play the villain once for the sake of a kind, soft-hearted, foolish ex-boyfriend.
I thought he might get angry, or turn away in tears.
But instead, Namhae simply looked at me—and then grinned.
“So I mean nothing to you?”
He repeated my deliberately cold words, yet his face showed no hurt or disappointment. If anything, it was filled with a sense of victory.
“Then why did you panic so much earlier when I got hurt?”
“…That’s….”
I had no answer. Even I had been surprised by how intense that reaction had been. But that didn’t change the fact that I was worn down, dulled.
While I remained cynical, Namhae looked completely at ease.
“Well, we can take it slow. I’m good at waiting. I already waited four years, so what’s a little longer—”
He trailed off mid-sentence, then abruptly changed his mind.
“No. Actually, I can’t wait anymore.”
“…? Then what are you going to do?”
Ignoring him would’ve been the cleanest solution.
But once again, he defied my expectations.
“I’ll win you over.”
He said it with a completely serious face—absolute nonsense.
“Ha, we’re already dating and now I have to win you over again? What a miserable life I have.”
He lamented dramatically, though there was something almost deliberately artificial about his cheerfulness.
…Was he serious? Or was he acting like this on purpose for my sake? It looked exaggerated even to me, but still… why?
“…Did you even hear what I said earlier? Namhae, I’m… broken. There’s no fixing me, so don’t waste your effort. Just go.”
Things that can’t be repaired should be thrown away. If you keep holding onto trash, all you get is the stench clinging to your hands. I didn’t want that for him.
He’d already gotten hurt because of me. I didn’t want to see him cling stubbornly to someone like me—someone beyond saving—until he wore himself out.
Even I had that much conscience left.
But Namhae simply looked at me, then slowly reached out. Maybe remembering how I’d reacted earlier, his movements were careful, deliberate. Having already hurt him once, I couldn’t bring myself to push him away or avoid him, so I just let him touch my face.
“Hey, Yeo Juhyeon.”
His voice was surprisingly gentle.
“Juhyeon.”
His hand—bigger than I remembered—cupped one side of my face.
“Do you know that’s the first time you’ve said my name since you came back?”
…Was it? Did that even matter right now? Judging by his expression, it seemed like the most important thing in the world.
His hand stroked my cheek carefully, as if handling something precious. His voice, close to my ear, was unbearably soft.
“I’ll tell you this—you’re not broken. You’re just tired, that’s all. You’ve wilted a little. You’ll be okay. Don’t worry. I’ll water you properly and bring you back to life.”
The warmth in his expression melted again into a playful wink.
“You trust oppa, right?”
Even at that obvious tease, I couldn’t respond.
My mind went blank.
I had thought of myself as “broken”—worn down beyond repair.
But Namhae called me “wilted” instead. Not some lifeless object beyond saving, but something like a plant that could come back to life with just a bit of water.
Could something like that really fill the dry lake inside me again?
…Maybe not. At least, it didn’t feel that way right now.
“…Do whatever you want.”
He probably wouldn’t succeed. But I didn’t have the energy left to stop him either. For some reason, all the strength drained out of my body.
I’d told him to pretend not to know me for his sake, but if he refused and insisted on pouring water into me anyway… then fine. He’d stop on his own once he got tired.
Even then, I wouldn’t be the one getting hurt… but I just hoped he wouldn’t dry out himself in the process.
As I listened to him talk about pouring his time and effort into someone like me, something I had forgotten surfaced.
Namhae insisted we were still together—but even if that were true, we had been separated physically.
For four years.
“By the way, it’s been four years. Didn’t you date anyone else during that time?”
I thought it was an obvious question, but Namhae reacted as if I’d deeply insulted him.
“Wow, you’re really making me out to be trash. Do I look like the kind of guy who cheats? I waited for you—faithfully—and now you’re telling me to pretend we don’t know each other, calling me your ex when we never even broke up….”
Muttering indignantly, he pinched my cheek as if getting revenge. It didn’t hurt, so I just let him, staring blankly until he seemed to get embarrassed himself and quickly let go, clearing his throat.
“Anyway, I never gave up on you, and I don’t plan to. Just so you know.”
“…Okay.”
“But how long are we going to stand in front of the Association building like we’re filming a morning drama? We came out to rest, so we should go somewhere, but… your place…”
He trailed off, glancing at me cautiously, but I remained indifferent. I had seen the fragments of my house dragged into the Black Gate with me—there was no way it would still be intact.
And after four years without an owner… it had probably been redeveloped or sold off.
I nodded in understanding, and Namhae gave me an apologetic smile.
“Then where should we go…?”
He glanced at me again.
“Want to come to my place?”
He smiled softly—an expression I had never seen when we were nineteen.
“I’ll just hold your hand while we sleep.”
“……”
Yeah. He’s definitely lost his mind.
