Chapter 39: The Two Faces of the Mirror

[Wait, Yunhwan-ssi. Slowly. Calm down first. Seonghye regained his memory? Did I hear that right?]

Yunhwan nodded frantically. “Yes. He just remembered everything, but he’s lost consciousness again…”

He rubbed his pale cheeks with a rough palm. Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of a crash and heavy breathing erupted from the phone, as if Junseong had started running the moment the news hit.

[I understand. I’m coming right now, so don’t hang up! Stay on the line! I’ve just left the hospital—don’t hang up!]

It was the first time Junseong had ever sounded so desperate and rushed. His usual composure was gone, which made Yunhwan bite his lip, trying to force himself to stay calm. Holding his breath, Yunhwan turned around.

“…!”

The hand holding the phone slowly dropped to his side.

Yunhwan stared at the figure behind him, his face turning ghostly white. He didn’t know how long he had been standing there—close enough that he should have sensed him.

Seonghye, who had been unconscious just moments ago, spoke to Yunhwan as if nothing had happened.

“…Hyung.”

The long eyes beneath a smooth forehead, the obsidian pupils that matched his flawless skin, and the sharp lines of his face were all the same. But…

“Why are you sweating so much, hmm?”

“…….”

“Did something happen?”

“…You….”

Yunhwan’s lips trembled.

Seonghye looked down at him with a slight furrow in his brow. In his eyes—dark and deep as a lake—Yunhwan’s panicked face was clearly reflected. Seonghye looked as serene as always, while Yunhwan looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

Yunhwan stammered. “You… Seonghye. You… why again…?”

Weren’t your memories back?

As Yunhwan instinctively stepped back, Seonghye closed the distance without hesitation. His eyes flickered from Yunhwan’s face to the noisy phone in his hand.

“Who’s calling at this hour?”

The phone was slowly pried from Yunhwan’s hand. Seonghye checked the caller ID and looked back at Yunhwan. Why are you talking to Kim Junseong? his eyes seemed to ask, but Yunhwan was speechless.

The heavy silence was broken by Junseong’s voice through the speaker.

[Yunhwan-ssi?]

Junseong’s shouts continued to erupt from the device. [Yunhwan-ssi, you’re listening, right? Yunhwan-ssi!]

Listening quietly, Seonghye tilted his head. He watched Yunhwan with the calm, steady gaze he’d had since losing his memory, but there was a new, heavy persistence in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Pulling Yunhwan’s hand toward him, Seonghye asked, “What is it?”

He seemed to have noticed the abnormality in Junseong’s voice. His expression turned serious. “Why is Kim Junseong looking for you at this hour?”

“…….”

“If you just stare at me like that, I’ll have to interpret this my own way.”

He raised an eyebrow and gripped Yunhwan’s chin. Yunhwan’s pupils shook like waves.

“Ah, w-wait…”

“Stay still.”

The fingers on his jaw applied slight pressure, turning Yunhwan’s face from side to side. Seonghye took in the sight of Yunhwan’s pale, bloodless face with sharp clarity.

While Junseong’s voice continued to ring out between them, Seonghye’s gaze lingered on every inch of Yunhwan’s body. It was ironic, considering Seonghye was the one who actually had the problem.

Finally, he wiped the cold sweat from Yunhwan’s forehead with the back of his hand and leaned in to look directly into his eyes.

“Now, tell me what happened.”

Yunhwan’s lips parted. Caught in that gaze, he had nowhere left to run. “…You… you suddenly lost consciousness. No, before that—”

He was about to say that the memories had returned, but he was stopped by the immediate hardening of Seonghye’s expression.

“I did?” Seonghye asked, his tone shifting back to normal. “I lost consciousness? That can’t be right. I just woke up from a nap.”

He pointed to his temple and gave a playful smile. “I know very well because I’ve fainted a few times because of you, Hyung. There’s a big difference between a blackout and a sleep.”

His smiling face was clean and kind, just like the “new” Seonghye. The bluish light from the ceiling was blocked by the shadow Seonghye cast over him. His gaze darkened.

“So, unless it’s because of you, I have no reason to lose consciousness.”

With a calm tone, he placed the weight of responsibility squarely on Yunhwan’s shoulders. As the flustered Yunhwan looked down, Seonghye’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

“So, keep helping me. So I don’t collapse. In the future, just like now.”

Seonghye pulled the stiffening Yunhwan into a slow embrace. When Yunhwan flinched, Seonghye simply patted his trembling back gently.

After Junseong arrived, the situation reached a slow stalemate. He immediately separated the two, putting Seonghye on an IV under the pretext of “condition management” and stationing two burly men outside his door.

Yunhwan stood in the middle of it all, unable to do a thing. Even as things seemed to settle, he remained dazed. Junseong, seeing this, eventually led him outside.

The humid summer heat persisted even deep into the night. Under a canopy of distant stars and the thick darkness surrounding the village, Junseong held Yunhwan’s arm and explained Seonghye’s condition.

Yunhwan remained silent for a long time, looking between his house and the doctor.

“That makes no sense,” he croaked, the words barely passing his tight throat. “He… lost them… again?”

Junseong looked at the man who was clearly at his limit. Yunhwan was shaking like someone in physical pain, even though his breathing was steady. The shock was palpable.

“No, why…? How is that possible?”

“It’s not that he lost them ‘again,’ but rather that during the recovery process, the memories surfaced briefly and then submerged. It might be hard to believe, but it happens quite often with amnesia patients. I can show you papers or articles on it if you’d like.”

Junseong released Yunhwan’s arm and crossed his own. Even without his white coat, his gaze remained professional and clinical, though his voice held a certain high-pressure edge. He shook his head. “Well… he certainly managed to shock everyone.”

“…….”

Junseong sighed, turning his head. He was trying to sound calm to reassure Yunhwan, but he was just as rattled.

“I know you were terrified, so thank you for calling me immediately. I was able to handle it quickly because of that. Don’t worry about Seonghye; I’ve explained things to him.”

Junseong’s face clouded as he recalled Seonghye’s reaction to the news that his memory had briefly returned. He had seen it clearly: the moment the “return” was mentioned, a flash of pure displeasure had crossed Seonghye’s dark pupils.

It was certain now. Min Seonghye did not welcome the return of his past. And the reason for that was obvious.

Junseong’s gaze narrowed as he watched Yunhwan. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask… before Seonghye lost his memory, you two stayed together here in Sanghee-ri for a bit, right?”

Yunhwan nodded slowly.

“Then before that… you didn’t know each other?”

Junseong’s sharp eyes didn’t leave Yunhwan’s face, searching for even the smallest micro-expression.

Yunhwan let out a long breath. “…I didn’t know him. Not before.” He added with a tone as serious as Junseong’s: “The first time I ever saw him was through Manager Park.”

“…….”

“If I had known him… I wouldn’t have taken the job. Not for any amount of money.”

Yunhwan forced a small, awkward smile. It didn’t change the mood, but it seemed to break the tension Junseong had been building. Junseong scratched his chin sheepishly and turned his gaze toward the distant mountains.