"......"

"With Rita in this house, it must be hard to sleep in, huh?"

Whether Ilay noticed Jeong Tae-ui’s suddenly sulky face or not, he casually spoke from across the table where he was already eating. Then, as Rita nagged from afar, Ilay frowned slightly.

"......"

Suddenly, a surge of anger welled up inside Tae-ui.

Here was someone who had sunk so low into depression since morning, while that man seemed unaffected.

Jeong Tae-ui silently chewed his salad.

"So, anyway?"

"? ...What?"

Kyle asked Tae-ui a connective question, as Tae-ui just quietly ate. Tae-ui looked at him confused and tilted his head.

"You said when you came in that neither option worked out. I wondered if you had something on your mind."

Kyle repeated, seeing that Tae-ui had forgotten. Tae-ui mumbled, "Ah," but could not answer. He couldn’t simply say it was about whether it’s better to not insert and take time or to insert but be quick.

He smiled faintly and evaded the topic, lowering his head. Kyle did not press further.

Tae-ui did not raise his head. He focused his gaze alternating between his food and the plate.

He didn’t really want to look. Besides, his current gloom was because of that person. He didn’t want to worsen it by looking now.

...Damn it.

Tae-ui muttered quietly to himself.

He felt a gaze.

Ilay rested his chin on ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ the back of his hand holding a fork, staring at Tae-ui. Very openly — beyond subtlety, just blatantly staring.

"......"

Tae-ui pretended not to notice for a moment, but when the gaze showed no sign of retreating, he finally looked up. Meeting Ilay’s eyes with a displeased expression, he stared back.

"Do you need something?"

"No."

Ilay met Tae-ui’s gaze for a moment, then slowly shook his head. Tae-ui frowned a little. Being stared at like that and then told no doesn’t exactly soothe feelings.

"Speak if you have something to say."

Tae-ui glared at Ilay as he said this, sounding almost like a challenge. In a corner of his mind, he thought, ‘I’ve become bold. I’m really going at it now,’ but somehow, he felt fearless. Kill me if you want, for all I care.

Ilay stared silently at Tae-ui again for a while, then pointed with the tip of his fork to Tae-ui’s plate.

"It’s nothing much. That chicken drumstick you took, I set it aside to eat."

"…Should I give it back?"

Tae-ui looked quietly at the half-eaten chicken wing, then shook it as he muttered. Ilay faintly smiled then shook his head.

"No, it’s mine anyway... forget it."

When Ilay kindly added, ‘Since it’s my share, you can eat it,’ Tae-ui’s face slightly stiffened. Seeing that, Ilay smirked and resumed eating.

"......"

Tae-ui kept touching the back of his hand to cool his reddening face. But his head burned hotter. Heat surged suddenly.

—You’re mine.

He had heard that countless times last night.

The voice that kept whispering in his ear again and again stuck like a nail in his ear and wouldn’t leave. He wondered whether it was really some kind of suggestion or brainwashing.

‘I’m the one recognizing it, not you.’ How he loved that line.

Crazy bastard. He thought he might just break the mirror the moment he returned to his room.

Tae-ui suddenly lost his appetite and put down the chicken wing he was eating.

You talk like I’m yours.

Tae-ui never intended to have his life weighed down by another. Just as he wouldn’t bear the life of another, he didn’t want another to bear his. Neither by his own will nor by another’s.

His life belonged fully to himself. No one else could live his life in his place. They might walk side by side on parallel paths but never overlapping.

Ilay — he said he’d torment me forever.

Tae-ui gritted his teeth.

Damn it. Just look away for a moment, and I’ll run away again immediately. Come after me if you dare.

But even saying that, Tae-ui knew.

He couldn’t make a new ID anymore. The IDs he could use were Kim Young-su’s and his own. Ilay already knew both. Without an ID, he couldn’t work, fly on a plane, or even go to a bank. Wherever he went, Ilay would find a way to track and chase him.

Tae-ui sighed suddenly.

What now? What does Ilay intend to do? It was bitter to have to plan his own life while thinking about Ilay’s next moves. But this was the reality he faced — here, now.

As he thought this, feeling gloomy, he started eating some vegetables. Suddenly, a phone rang.

Probably a cell phone, and it sounded inside the dining room where there was no landline, near the table.

Kyle was the one with the phone. He raised his eyebrows, said, "Sorry about this," bowed slightly to those at the table, then answered. Seeing him still on the phone and putting down his fork, the call might be long. Tae-ui silently continued eating, then glanced at Ilay sitting across.

Ilay was as usual — his expression, gestures, hands, atmosphere, all as Tae-ui knew him.

When Rita nagged, Ilay openly frowned and waved his hand — and Rita, who cared for and raised them while changing their diapers, just nodded and kept nagging — but otherwise, he was the same.

...Yeah, completely the same.

Tae-ui gazed at him quietly, furrowing his brow slightly and tilting his head.

Ilay was exactly the man Tae-ui knew from UNHRDO. Just yesterday, he looked so unstable, but now he had regained his usual composed and calm demeanor.

"......"

Wondering if something had happened overnight, Tae-ui looked around the other way, but found no clues.

It was fine. A composed, cold madman was easier to deal with than a shaky, unstable one. Tae-ui drank deeply, thinking this.

"Tae-ui."

At that moment, Kyle called him.

Tae-ui quickly swallowed the water in his mouth, put down the cup, and seeing Kyle still on the phone, gestured to ask what it was. Kyle smiled and handed over the phone.

"It’s Chang-in."

"…What?"

Tae-ui blinked, wondering what he was hearing, then asked again. He had no memory of a call with his uncle this morning.

Confused, he mumbled, "When was that..."

His uncle laughed again.

"You called me this morning, around just before the regular workday started."

Tae-ui closed his mouth.

He could not recall such a thing. Calling someone while others slept was rare, and this morning was still this morning.

Then he suddenly remembered the time difference. His uncle seemed to realize it simultaneously and added, "Ah, it must have been midnight over there."

But even with the time difference explained, Tae-ui still found it suspicious. It was rare to call someone at midnight, and if he had a reason to call his uncle, he would remember.

"Uncle, but I don’t remember calling..."

Tae-ui cautiously said this. His uncle laughed.

"So you really don’t remember calling me this morning. It was about 8 a.m. there, maybe 1 a.m. your time? The call came then. You were crying."

"......"

His uncle wasn’t the type to lie, nor did he sound like it. He even explained the circumstances. Crying. Listening to it was painful.

Tae-ui sighed.

He was definitely very tired physically and mentally yesterday. He had vowed never to meet that monster again, but had just run into him, almost died from his anti-tank gun fire, almost died again from the forest fire he set, and was recklessly fucked by the same man while he muttered incoherent words at night. Stress like that could cause sleepwalking.

Suddenly, he felt sorry for himself.

He had never thought himself pitiful until now, but how had he come to this state?

"Just... I was having a hard time... Please understand, uncle..."

Tae-ui’s voice was gloomy. His uncle laughed softly. Tae-ui could imagine his uncle nodding slightly beyond the receiver.

Tae-ui mumbled awkwardly, then suddenly thought of something and added, "By the way... when will you come back?"

He couldn’t say aloud, ‘When will that guy leave here?’ while standing beside him, so he only spoke key words, but—