Unexpected Reunions and Lingering Doubts

HEX, having successfully navigated two demanding schedules in quick succession, was granted a week-long vacation. This period, extending to over ten days when factoring in my hospitalization, appeared to be somewhat influenced by Kwon Yohan’s mother.

This respite allowed me to reflect calmly, without my thoughts being consumed by the immediate tasks at hand.

[Honestly, Kwon Yohan’s injury is ridiculous ㅋㅋ. He was perfectly fine just moments ago, then suddenly?]

[Yohan~~ if you don’t want to do this, just leave~~~~]

“This is still going on.”

The whispers of withdrawal, which had begun to surface as HEX displayed a commendable performance, had now intensified beyond their previous fervor. It wasn’t necessarily that the sheer number of detractors had grown; rather, the nature of their criticism had shifted.

[Why are you taking out the resentment caused by your oppa’s incompetence on our precious baby? ㅠㅋ]

Part of the change stemmed from the altered demeanor of Kwon Yohan’s individual fans. Their previous quiet, supportive atmosphere had transformed, and they now moved beyond merely shielding him, displaying an alarming ferocity in tearing down his detractors.

“This isn’t good.”

While his previously dejected state had been pitiable, this new development would undoubtedly lead to significant emotional exhaustion. Should such a dynamic persist long-term, the fandom itself risked acquiring an image of constant fatigue. Outsiders might simply perceive them as, ‘What’s with them, always bickering amongst themselves?’

Perhaps, in truth, this was a privilege afforded to larger fandoms. Red Moon’s fanbase, being so small, was primarily occupied with rallying together, fostering a strong inclination to avoid internal conflict. The concept of individual fan bases was virtually nonexistent for them.

After scanning the fans’ reactions for a few more moments, I closed the window I had been observing.

Then, I stood before the full-length mirror. The reflection showed Kwon Yohan, dressed casually to avoid drawing undue attention. I idly fidgeted with the hem of a black T-shirt before pulling on a cap that obscured my face. ‘Today will likely be another wasted trip,’ I mused, harboring no great expectations.

My resolve to ‘return it’ remained steadfast, yet a few days without any substantial progress had somewhat dampened my enthusiasm. I had visited the house Kwon Yohan lived in before moving into the dorm, and even frequented places he was known to visit, but the information I possessed hadn’t yielded any significant new leads.

Kwon Yohan, it seemed, was particularly drawn to places whose names ended with ‘gwan’—libraries, art museums, and the like. These static environments, which I, in this body, had never intentionally sought out, felt strangely unsettling just to step into.

The destination for today, however, promised to be different; it wouldn’t evoke those same feelings.

“Going out?”

As I stepped into the living room, Yoon Jihyuk, who was drinking water, addressed me. He appeared to have just woken up, completely devoid of his usual sharp, composed aura. His hair was tousled and unruly, and his eyes were half-closed, giving him the appearance of someone who could drift back to sleep at any moment.

“Yes.”

“The car?”

Until yesterday, I had relied on the manager or Secretary Choi for transportation, but with today’s particular destination, I intended to go by myself and return swiftly. As if discerning my intentions from my brief silence, Yoon Jihyuk set down his cup and spoke.

“Ten minutes… no, just wait five minutes. I’ll take you.”

Without even waiting for a response, he simply turned and disappeared into the bathroom.

As if by some magic, Yoon Jihyuk truly finished preparing to leave precisely within the timeframe he had stated. My cunning plan—to slip away if he was even a minute past the five-minute mark and then claim I was in a hurry—was thus completely thwarted.

“Why the long face? Don’t you want to go with me?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to… never mind. Just promise me this one thing.”

Yoon Jihyuk nodded, gesturing for me to continue.

“Wherever I go, whatever I try to do, don’t ask for reasons and don’t question my actions.”

“Alright. Understood.”

Following him, still smiling and compliant, I headed toward the underground parking garage. With a practiced ease, Yoon Jihyuk opened the driver’s side door of a sleek black sedan.

“You have a car too?”

“I wouldn’t have offered to drive you if I didn’t have one, would I?”

‘Of course, I’d understood it as him accompanying me to protect me, given his persistent dislike for me wandering around alone from the company,’ I thought, feeling a touch self-conscious at his reaction, which implied my question was utterly bizarre.

“Ah, Yohan, this must be your first time riding in my car. I’ve hardly had reason to drive since my debut.”

“Alright. So, where shall I take you?” he asked playfully, gripping the steering wheel. I hesitated, wondering how best to explain, before simply operating the navigation system to set our destination.

“What’s there, exactly?”

Yoon Jihyuk seemed genuinely puzzled, yet he refrained from pressing the matter further and simply began to drive.

****

The place we arrived at was none other than the very rooftop where Kwon Yohan and I had first met.

Visiting it during the day, the scene felt starkly different from my memory. Stains were visible everywhere that the darkness had previously concealed, along with cigarette butts and trash strewn haphazardly across the surface.

There wasn’t even the slightest hint that anything extraordinary might occur here. It was simply a neglected, grimy space, untouched by any semblance of care.

“Ha…”

My spirits sank.

Determined to try just one more thing, I walked toward the railing. This, I recalled, was precisely where Kwon Yohan had been sitting. As I began to position myself to sit down, Yoon Jihyuk, who had been glowering at the scattered cigarette butts, suddenly flinched and hurried over.

“Why are you doing something so dangerous?”

His tone was urgent, as if he intended to pull me away at once.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t ask for reasons.”

To ease the rigid atmosphere, I deliberately spoke with a lighter tone. Yoon Jihyuk let out a deep sigh and stepped closer, positioning himself within arm’s reach, ready to intervene if necessary.

The view below was hardly extraordinary. The building’s height, I realized, felt significantly lower than it had in the moments I remembered falling.

The real issue wasn’t the height; it was the complete lack of any new leads. To suppress the overwhelming sense of helplessness, I turned to the person beside me and asked, though I harbored no real expectation of an answer.

“What kind of thoughts would one have, sitting alone in a place like this?”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone.”

Yoon Jihyuk pondered for a brief moment before carefully articulating his thoughts.

“Perhaps thoughts like, ‘What would happen if I jumped from here…?'”

My head snapped around, and I looked up at his face. Yoon Jihyuk was wearing a bitter smile.

“Why are you so surprised?”

Had I really looked that surprised? As I unconsciously reached up to touch my face, Yoon Jihyuk gently took my hand. Before I fully registered it, I found myself standing firmly on the rooftop’s surface, having moved away from the edge with effortless grace.

“It’s not that *I* think that, but what other reason would there be to purposefully come up alone to a place like this, where there’s nothing? Unless you just came up for a quick smoke after eating at the restaurant downstairs, what else could it be?”

Upon reflection, his words held a certain plausibility.

“Or… perhaps it’s a situation that’s difficult to endure, yet equally difficult to be the first to leave, so one might seek temporary refuge here.”

“Oh…”

Though the path ahead remained long, it felt as though the fog obscuring my vision had begun to lift, if only slightly.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

‘What was that supposed to mean?’ I thought, casting a glance at his silly grin before turning to walk away.

“Oh, are you leaving already?”

“Yes. It seems my business here is largely concluded.”

“Alright.”

True to his word, he descended the stairs without a single question. A comfortable silence settled between us, one I expected to last all the way back to the dorm. However, just as we were about to enter the car parked in front of the building, he suddenly paused, turning to gaze at me intently.

“Yohan.”

“Yes?”

“You need to brush off your pants a bit, don’t you?”

Ah. Only then did I notice the fine dust that had transferred from the railing onto my pants.

“Shall I brush it off for you?”

‘What on earth is he talking about?’ I thought, giving him a blank stare. Yoon Jihyuk chuckled, claiming it was just a joke. I simply brushed off my clothes and settled into the passenger seat.

His sense of humor, I decided, was utterly inscrutable.

****

Since we were already out, Yoon Jihyuk and I decided to pick up some simple snacks before heading back to the dorm.

When we had left, it was so early that most of the members were still asleep. Now, however, they were gathered in the living room. Choi Seung-beom, who had been quietly bustling about in the kitchen, glanced up and addressed us.

“Did you already have breakfast?”

When I replied in the negative, he promptly pulled sandwiches from the refrigerator and offered them. My portion, I noticed, appeared to have been prepared with particular care regarding the ingredients. Yoon Jihyuk and I then organized the remaining items from our bag into the fridge, taking only the ice cream intended for the members bickering good-naturedly in the living room.

It was precisely as I tossed the ice cream to the others and was about to take a bite of my fresh sandwich.

“Seriously, how much longer are you going to watch that!”

“Just one more time.”

“One more time is now the eighth time, Mr. Han Doyoung, isn’t it?”

What Han Doyoung was watching was footage from the solo concert—specifically, the duet stage featuring me and him. It seemed he had acquired the video for online streaming and was now monitoring it.

His intense concentration kept Lee Seon from nagging him further to stop watching.

“Ugh, his self-love is just too much.”

Though he wasn’t entirely silent in his grumbling.

The stage performance had turned out far better than I had felt in the moment. The satisfaction and exhilaration of our movements aligning perfectly began to subtly resurface. The hard work had certainly paid off.

After watching the entire performance, Han Doyoung slowly turned his head towards me. He observed me with a somewhat puzzled expression before tilting his head.

“Hmm?”

What kind of reaction was that, exactly?

“That’s strange.”

Uttering an inscrutable remark, he tossed the remote control to Lee Seon. Then, he shuffled crookedly and disappeared into his room.

‘Why is he acting like that?’ I wondered, just as my eyes met Yoon Jihyuk’s. He appeared to be thinking the same thing.

Regardless, Lee Seon, now in possession of the remote, hummed a tune as he selected a drama to watch. He had been binging on dramas he’d missed during their busy period.

‘I might as well watch with him while I eat this, since I have nothing else to do anyway.’

I settled onto the sofa. The drama Lee Seon finally chose after much deliberation was *Glass Flower*. It was a new series that had just started airing, and I vaguely recalled hearing its title and the lead actor’s name. It was a detective drama that seemed quite popular.

But…

–I… I just came because I was worried when I couldn’t reach them. And then… then I found this scene before my eyes.

‘What is this?’

–I don’t understand, Detective. Why is the child who was smiling perfectly fine by my side just three days ago now involved in a crime?

‘Son Yoonjae, why are you here?’