“Why?”
Sung Ji-woo asked out of genuine curiosity. To be honest, the Yu Hiro from back then had been… very cute. The wariness he showed toward him, the timid way he shrank back, the way he followed him around like a little chick.
Now he knew that version of Yu Hiro hadn’t really been seventeen—but even so, to Sung Ji-woo, the Yu Hiro of that time still felt young, innocent, and adorable.
“The reason I applied for mentoring was… honestly because I couldn’t stand those ability users who bragged about their high ranks.”
“…Mm.”
“Childish as it was, the only emotion I had back then was anger. I wanted to make anyone suffer.”
Yu Hiro lowered his head deeply, like a sinner confessing his sins, then rolled his eyes upward to gauge Sung Ji-woo’s reaction. Sung Ji-woo blinked slowly and scratched his chin.
So how was he supposed to take that…?
“That’s a relief.”
The words he finally chose were simple. Yu Hiro snapped his head up.
“That our choices lined up.”
By chance, they’d made different choices from their past lives—and as if by fate, those choices aligned, allowing Yu Hiro and Sung Ji-woo to meet.
“You said you don’t believe fate can change.”
“…Yes.”
“Then I guess that really was our new fate.”
The lukewarm tone sounded almost indifferent. But Yu Hiro looked at Sung Ji-woo with eyes hotter than ever before.
“Every time I hear something like that, I get curious about the you from your previous life.”
“You said you knew me.”
“Knowing of you and knowing you as a person are completely different things. You say things that are hard to predict sometimes. That’s probably because of a past I don’t know. And because of that, there were things that were easier for me to notice. You wouldn’t know it, but… you’re actually very obvious in a lot of ways.”
“…Me?”
Sung Ji-woo, who had firmly believed he’d hidden everything perfectly, was thoroughly shaken by that bombshell.
Seeing his reaction, Yu Hiro smiled gently.
“Or maybe it’s because I kept watching you. Other people probably wouldn’t have noticed.”
“…Honestly, noticing would be strange. Who in the world would think the person next to them came from the future? You realized it because you’re a regressor. If you were just a normal person—”
“That’s not all I meant, but… it’s true that there were things only I could notice. Still, you didn’t notice, hyung.”
“Huh? Notice what? What didn’t I notice?”
“That I was the same as you.”
He’d thrown out every excuse he could think of, but the fact remained—he hadn’t noticed even a little. Embarrassed, Sung Ji-woo downed the rest of his beer in one gulp.
“I mean, I didn’t think regression was something just anyone could do. At this rate, who knows—maybe we’ll run into another regressor someday….”
His words rambled uselessly. Trailing off, Sung Ji-woo glanced sideways to check Yu Hiro’s expression.
Thinking that Yu Hiro had lived through the same time he had made him feel oddly distant. It wasn’t like Yu Hiro had suddenly become a different person—he’d been the same Yu Hiro from the moment they met until now.
“Anyway, you turned back time too. So why did you say fate doesn’t change?”
“…You said fate does change. Did your fate change, hyung?”
“Well… I guess so. For now, at least.”
He’d survived that period and lived on to this point, so his fate could be said to have changed. In fact, it wasn’t just his—everyone in this world’s fate had changed.
“Did it change the way you wanted it to?”
“…Yeah.”
“That’s why. None of what I wanted changed. What did you want, hyung?”
“Me? I wanted to stop the X-Gate explosion and survive— ah.”
Mid-sentence, Sung Ji-woo finally realized something, his face going blank.
The X-Gate explosion—something that had been as good as fate itself to him—had been a matter of choice for Yu Hiro.
In this life, Yu Hiro had simply chosen not to explode the X-Gate, but to subdue it instead. Of course he wouldn’t say fate had changed.
For him, it hadn’t been unavoidable.
“…So that’s why you said a new fate would come.”
He’d thought he knew Yu Hiro pretty well—but aside from the experiment stories, he hadn’t known any of the truly important things.
For a moment, Yu Hiro felt strangely distant. Yu Hiro didn’t blame him, but Sung Ji-woo still felt apologetic. On impulse, he reached out and ruffled Yu Hiro’s hair once.
Yu Hiro leaned in further, looking pleased. Sung Ji-woo didn’t push him away. Just being physically close brought a small sense of relief.
At some point, Pilgrimage had been summoned again and settled itself between them.
Maybe because Yu Hiro had accepted that Pilgrimage was his alter ego, their relationship with it looked much better than before. Yu Hiro’s touch was still a little awkward, but he gently patted it anyway.
Sung Ji-woo watched them silently. Yu Hiro tore jerky into bite-sized pieces and offered it to Pilgrimage, who waited patiently.
It was a peaceful scene at a glance. He didn’t want to think about anything complicated. Hiss. Opening a new can of beer, Sung Ji-woo slumped back against the sofa.
The second hand of the clock ticked busily yet steadily. Watching the hands spin was the perfect way to feel time passing.
As always, time flowed forward.
“Hyung, are you sleepy?”
How long had he held on like this? His vision flickered darkly. In the unlit room, Sung Ji-woo couldn’t even tell whether his eyes were open or closed.
Something moved vaguely in the darkness—probably Yu Hiro. His voice came closer.
“Are you asleep?”
Receiving no answer but shallow breaths, Yu Hiro quietly began clearing the table. The ramen, now completely soggy, never made it into anyone’s mouth.
“Drinking on an empty stomach will hurt….”
Hearing the concern in his voice, Sung Ji-woo tried to say something—but his body already felt unbearably heavy, as if it had entered sleep mode.
In the end, he gave up on moving and simply listened to Yu Hiro tidying up. As dishes clinked, he tried—and failed—to count how many cans he’d emptied.
A deep sleep was already pulling him under. Sung Ji-woo vividly felt his consciousness drifting away. He knew, clearly, that he was falling asleep.
At that moment, something brushed against his lips—then pulled away. Through dulled senses came an unfamiliar sensation.
Clear warmth.
“Haa….”
At last, the date written on the wedding invitation had arrived.
For days, Sung Ji-woo had agonized over whether he should go or not.
One day, after he’d stared holes through the invitation on the table for a long while, Yu Hiro sighed and took it away.
“Are you going to keep staring at that? You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
Only then did Sung Ji-woo realize he’d been ignoring Yu Hiro completely and hurriedly apologized.
“Ah, sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked what we’re eating tonight. And whether we’re going grocery shopping together.”
“Oh—yeah. Let’s do that.”
“And this… haa. Let’s just go.”
“Huh? Why?”
“If we don’t, I feel like you’ll be like this all day. It’s better to just go and see it for yourself.”
And just like that, attending the wedding was decided.
Even while searching for the venue, Sung Ji-woo briefly wondered if it might secretly be some international association facility—but the huge slogan that popped up, ‘We’ll make the most beautiful day of your life!’, quickly killed that thought.
The wedding hall attached to the hotel was famous for its buffet. With so many reviews, it was harder to imagine it being used for anything other than weddings.
So once again, Sung Ji-woo pulled out a suit. He neatly packed the congratulatory money into an envelope.
“…Is this really right?”
Standing in front of the shoe cabinet mirror, he let out a hollow laugh. Yu Hiro had already gone out to start the car.
After removing Pilgrimage’s fur from his clothes with tape, Sung Ji-woo left the shop.
“Fine. I’ll just eat a lot.”
Thinking something so pointless.
Because the hotel was so large, other weddings were in full swing in different halls. After wandering through the crowded lobby, he finally found the Lily Hall.
After checking the bride and groom’s names, he looked around—but strangely, there was no one there. Even the entrance to the hall was completely empty.
There were a few children running around, but they clearly didn’t belong to this party.
“…What?”
There wasn’t even a place to submit the gift money. Just as Sung Ji-woo was about to call over a staff member, Yu Hiro walked straight ahead and opened the doors to the hall.
Bright interior light spilled out through the opening.
If You Notice any translation issues or inconsistency in names, genders, or POV etc? Let us know here in the comments or on our Discord server, and we’ll fix it in current and future chapters. Thanks for helping us to improve! 🙂