Chapter 45: The Counterfeit Recovery

Instead of hate or resentment, Yunhwan thought of the man who had poured the heat of his entire being into him before departing. A summer night where even the sound of insects felt distant; the ragged breath felt against his chest; the man who had clawed at his own throat like a beast in agony, yet tried to keep Yunhwan in his sight until the very end.

‘Yunhwan-ah, let’s meet again?’

As that overbearing voice suddenly brushed past his mind, Yunhwan stared at Seonghye with trembling eyes—as if searching behind those ink-black pupils for the “real” Min Seonghye who had fallen back into slumber.

Don’t touch the imprint? Why would the man who loathed being here, the man who nearly died trying to save him, say such a thing?

Could it be… Yunhwan swallowed dryly.

Simultaneously, an afterimage of his past in Hong Kong three years ago rose like mist. Even then, Min Seonghye’s presence had been hauntingly strange. He had always stared at the mask covering Yunhwan’s face with peculiar eyes, and his voice seemed to follow Yunhwan wherever he went.

Days where the man’s piercing gaze felt hotter than the humid air clinging to his skin.

“Hyung.”

It was Min Seonghye who pulled Yunhwan out of his momentary trance. “Why are you looking at me with those eyes?”

Seonghye, who had been peering down at the medicine, flicked his gaze up to meet Yunhwan’s. Their eyes locked in mid-air. Holding that obsessive stare, Seonghye rubbed the smooth surface of the pill with his thumb. It looked as though he was gauging his strength, as if he could crush the medicine at any moment if he felt like it.

He acted like a man who knew exactly how to tighten and loosen the strings of someone else’s tension with just a minor movement.

The search, using the medicine as bait, continued. Under the bright lights, Seonghye’s pupils gleamed a deeper black. Whenever Yunhwan seemed to be searching for “the other” Min Seonghye, Seonghye’s face would stiffen like a predator facing its prey.

“Strange. Is someone else here besides me?”

The laughter at the end of his words felt exceptionally dry today. His fingers, sliding down Yunhwan’s wrist, felt slick like a snake against the remaining moisture from the shower.

“…Who else would be here?”

Yunhwan mumbled, instinctively hiding his wrist behind his back. He forced strength into his voice to avoid getting caught thinking about the past Seonghye.

“Who else is here but us… and why aren’t you taking your medicine?”

Yunhwan shifted the subject, gesturing with his chin toward the pill. The tablet, hidden beneath Seonghye’s finger, was still being pressed down by his strong grip.

At Yunhwan’s words, the finger slowly lifted. Seonghye wrinkled his nose. “I have to take it, but sometimes I just don’t feel like it.”

“You don’t feel like it?”

He nodded. Staring obsessively at every flicker of Yunhwan’s expression, Seonghye moistened his dry lips. “To be honest—”

“…….”

As Seonghye dragged out the silence, Yunhwan’s expression grew anxious. Seonghye leaned down to match Yunhwan’s eye level.

“What would a fool with no memories know?”

The eyes visible between his long, neat lashes looked strangely lonely. “How ‘normal’ this medicine will make me, whether the treatment I’m receiving here will really fix my pheromones—”

He cut himself off and reached out carefully. His pale fingers moved fluidly, like parting water, before stopping at a certain point. He took Yunhwan’s hidden hand and pulled it forward, speaking in a voice that was uncharacteristically pitiful.

“Actually, those things aren’t important.”

He buried his cheek in Yunhwan’s palm. His nose pressed against the firm skin, and a damp voice flowed out. “Right now, this time with you is my treatment. You are no different from my antidote.”

Seonghye’s brow furrowed into fine lines. It sounded like a plea, but Yunhwan’s heart pounded as if he were walking on thin ice.

“What I need isn’t medicine. It’s you, Hyung.”

“…….”

The palm touching his cheek felt hot. Perhaps because of that, Yunhwan’s fingertips against the pale skin began to curl. Yunhwan, who had been diligently tending to Seonghye’s medicine like a mother bird feeding its chick, swallowed hard.

“Still.”

Suddenly, Seonghye straightened up and tossed the pill into his mouth. His Adam’s apple moved significantly as he swallowed. While Yunhwan blinked at the pill disappearing so quickly, their eyes met again.

“If it makes you feel at ease, then I have to take it.”

“Uh… yeah.”

“I’d eat thousands of those things,” Seonghye muttered nonchalantly. “That way, you’ll go on dates with me like you did today.”

“Right… wait, what?”

“I’ll take care of the ginseng myself, so you don’t need to worry about my… stamina.”

As Yunhwan mouthed words silently in shock, a curve formed on Seonghye’s lips. “To think you were the one saying ‘no touching’ and ‘no sharing a bed,’ or talking nonsense about breaking the imprint to an Alpha who says you’re his only one.”

He arched an eyebrow and poked Yunhwan’s cheek with his thumb. “Let’s see how much longer you’re going to keep me on edge.”

“No, no, that’s not it…”

Seonghye was clearly being playful, but Yunhwan was genuinely flustered. While Yunhwan’s eyes darted around, Seonghye laughed as if enjoying himself.

He covered his mouth slightly to stifle his laughter and said, “I was joking. But I did like the date.”

“…….”

“When the heat breaks and autumn comes, let’s go somewhere further away.”

His voice was soft, as if savoring a season that hadn’t arrived yet. While Yunhwan instinctively thought of nearby places to visit, something small and round was being rolled between the fingers Seonghye held behind his back.

Held between his thumb and index finger, drying in the air, was the pill that Yunhwan thought he had swallowed moments ago.

The night was deep; beasts and plants alike were asleep.

“Ugh, this is hard. I’m dying here.”

With a lantern turned to its lowest setting and a hiking pack large enough to cover his entire back, the man looking like a suspicious herb poacher was Kim Hyun-soo.

“Damn it, what am I even supposed to find here?”

He grumbled incessantly, stabbing his hiking poles into the ground. But he couldn’t quit now; he was already halfway up the mountain. In short, he had come too far to turn back. It had already been ten days since he arrived in this rural village. He had followed Min Seonghye’s orders without a word, but…

“I saw a water deer on the way up. I hope I don’t run into a wild boar.”

This request—to comb through this specific mountain as if searching for a lost needle—wasn’t easy, even for a veteran private investigator like him. Furthermore, he had realized over the past few days that there were some very unusual people residing in this village.

They were watching him, the sudden newcomer, with razor-sharp gazes. The feeling of being monitored was so chilling it made his spine tingle even in his sleep. Even when he went to the local mart or into town, the eyes followed him.

Ironically, the man those eyes were truly focused on, Min Seonghye, seemed to be living his life as if nothing were wrong.

“Once this job is done, I’m washing my hands of this. I can’t figure out what the hell is going on…”

He made this vow just as he reached a certain rock. Between the bizarrely carved stone crevices, a vivid full moon hung in the sky. For a moment, he felt the chill and eerie atmosphere of the mountain dissolve into the moon’s pale light.

Clink.

“…?”

Hyun-soo felt something heavy catch under the tip of his pole. He tilted his head down. Pulling the pole back and brushing aside the leaves, his eyes suddenly flashed.

It was something like a well-honed blade.

“…Not a knife… but something scarier than a knife…”

His hand, clad in a latex glove, reached down. As he carefully gripped the wooden handle attached to the blade, the object that had been buried in the mountain for months finally revealed itself.

“…!”

It was an axe.

The house, with its air conditioner installed in just one day, was no longer hot. Though early autumn was approaching, the heatwave alerts buzzing on phones showed the sweltering weather hadn’t fully passed.

Along with the lingering heat, Yunhwan’s scent filled the house—a scent that was perfect for evaporating Seonghye’s reason several times a day. Recently, the man had developed a habit of sniffing for his own pheromones on Yunhwan’s body.

It wasn’t exactly like a beast marking its territory, yet he felt anxious if his scent wasn’t on Yunhwan. The pull of emotion and the entanglement of reason—because of that wicked heart, Seonghye often felt like he was being swept away by a giant tsunami.

Min Seonghye watched the man sleeping peacefully under the air conditioner.

Whenever he stole a glance at the sleeping Yunhwan, his chest felt tight and his heart constricted, just like a young boy experiencing his first love.