Eunjae woke up groggily, rubbing his eyes coming downstairs before he noticed Rinwoo, Taekyun, and Taemin standing near the doorway with their suitcases. His heart dropped. He rushed toward Rinwoo and grabbed his arm.
"Did you finally decide to leave this place?" Eunjae asked, his voice trembling.
Rinwoo cleared his throat, carefully avoiding Taekyun's gaze, and replied in a low, hesitant tone, "We… have to look for Taemin's fate. We're going to visit Master Hwang for three or four days."
Eunjae gasped, clutching Rinwoo tightly as if the world would collapse without him. "Don't leave me alone," he pleaded, wrapping his arms around him with desperation.
Rinwoo froze, torn between comfort and guilt, not knowing how to push him away without hurting him.
Daon appeared behind Eunjae, his face cold. Without hesitation, he grabbed Eunjae's collar from behind and pulled him away from Rinwoo. "Behave," Daon ordered, his tone sharp.
Eunjae turned and shot him an annoyed glare before rolling his eyes dramatically, as if Daon was the villain keeping him from what he wanted.
Rinwoo sighed softly, guilt tugging at his chest. He bowed slightly and whispered, "I'm sorry…" before stepping back.
Just then, the driver entered, bowing politely. "The car is ready, youngmaster."
Eunjae immediately wrapped Rinwoo into one last exaggerated hug, pressing his cheek against his as if he were saying goodbye forever. Rinwoo stood stiffly, his hand hovering uncertainly over Eunjae's back, before gently pulling away.
With heavy steps, the three finally left, Eunjae's pitiful voice echoing down the hallway: "Come back quickly! Don't forget me!"
The clinking of cutlery and the faint murmur of voices filled the dining hall as Daon and Eunjae sat at the same table, though neither seemed eager to acknowledge the other. Eunjae, however, couldn't keep his eyes off Daon. His sharp glare was almost burning holes through him.
Finally, he jabbed his fork toward Daon, breaking the silence.
"Why was I shirtless this morning… at the village guest house?" His tone was accusatory, but underneath it, there was unease.
Daon lifted his gaze lazily, his expression cold and detached. "You really don't remember?"
Eunjae frowned, his grip tightening around the fork. "Remember what?"
Daon's lips curled into a humorless smirk. "You threw up. On yourself."
The words hit Eunjae like a slap. His face froze for a moment before heat crept up his neck, his ears turning red. "T-that can't be true." He forced a scoff, trying to appear unaffected, but the slight crack in his voice betrayed him.
Daon didn't even flinch. He set his cup down and leaned back slightly, his eyes sharp. "It is the truth."
Eunjae's throat went dry. He looked away quickly, clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment. "So… the village's old lady must've… cleaned me and my shirt then, right?" He tried to sound casual, but his words came out rushed, almost hopeful.
Daon let out a deep sigh, staring at him like he was the biggest fool alive. "Why would I call an old lady to clean a grown man?" His tone was cutting, almost cruel in its bluntness.
Eunjae's hand froze mid-air, fork hovering uselessly over his plate. His heart skipped a beat, his mind racing with the implication of Daon's words. "Y-you mean…"
Daon stood, straightening his jacket with cold precision. "Figure it out." He took the last bite of his toast, not sparing Eunjae another glance, and walked away.
Eunjae sat frozen, fork still in hand, his face burning so hot it felt like everyone in the hall could see right through him. He… Daon… cleaned me?
He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.
And yet, the image of Daon cold, composed, unbothered doing something so intimate and humiliatingly tender for him, made Eunjae's stomach twist in ways he couldn't explain.
At Park Company, Juwon sat in his office chair, his eyes fixed on the phone screen. A message from Taemin glowed back at him: "I'll be away for a few days. I won't be able to visit."
Juwon sighed deeply, leaning his cheek against his palm. Already, the weight of Taemin's absence pressed down on him. He tossed the phone on the desk and stood up, pacing for a moment before walking into the small bedroom attached to his office.
The moment he lay down on the bed, his mind betrayed him flooding with memories of Taemin. Nights when they cuddled here, quiet laughter echoing against the walls, kisses turning into something more, moments of warmth he never thought he'd crave.
He grabbed the blanket and buried his face into it, inhaling deeply, searching desperately for Taemin's lingering scent. But there was nothing. Just the sterile scent of clean fabric. Disappointed, Juwon sighed again, clutching the blanket tightly against his chest as if it could somehow fill the emptiness.
"How did I turn into this…" he whispered to himself, eyes shut, heart aching. He had never been the kind of man to depend on anyone. He was strong, cold, untouchable. But now? The thought of staying away from Taemin made his chest ache in ways he couldn't control.
And that realization scared him how much he had come to love someone like this.
Unknowingly, Juwon's hand slid lower, his body moving on instinct rather than thought. The soft sound of the zipper broke the silence of the office bedroom as he pushed his hand beneath the fabric. His eyes fluttered shut, his breaths coming slow and shaky.
He pictured Taemin his warm smile, the way his eyes curved when he laughed, the teasing lilt in his voice whenever he whispered against Juwon's ear. That deep, husky tone echoed in his head now, stirring something raw inside him.
"Juwon…" he could almost hear Taemin say, and just that thought made Juwon grip the blanket tighter with his free hand. The ache of missing him grew heavier, curling in his chest and spreading through every part of his body.
It wasn't just desire. It was longing an unbearable pull toward the one person who had managed to carve himself into every corner of Juwon's heart. He hated this weakness, hated how much power Taemin unknowingly had over him. And yet, he couldn't stop.
His lips parted as he whispered Taemin's name, soft and broken, like a prayer only the walls could hear.
Juwon's fingers moved with a slow, desperate rhythm, each stroke sending heat coiling low in his stomach. His breath hitched as he bit his lip, trying to stifle the quiet sounds threatening to escape. But Taemin's name slipped out anyway soft, pleading, barely more than a whisper.
"Taemin…"
The ache in his chest only grew sharper, his body trembling under the weight of his own need. He could almost feel Taemin's hands on him instead of his own rough yet tender, knowing exactly how to unravel him completely. The thought alone made his pulse spike, his grip tightening as he chased the friction, the fleeting relief.
"Taemin....ah…" His voice cracked, the syllables trembling on his tongue. Every nerve in his body felt alive, hyperaware of the emptiness without him. He wanted....needed more than just the ghost of his touch, more than just the memory of his voice.
But for now, all he had was this. The quiet of the room, the heat building under his skin, and Taemin's name on his lips like a confession.
"Taemin… please…"
The plea dissolved into a shaky exhale, his body tensing as pleasure coiled tighter, threatening to pull him under. And in that moment, with Taemin's presence so vivid in his mind, it almost felt like he was there. Almost.
Juwon's breath came in ragged gasps, his body shuddering as the last waves of pleasure ebbed away. His hand was sticky, fingers trembling slightly as he stared at them, dazed. Without thinking, he brought his hand closer his lips parting, cheeks burning with a mix of shame and lingering desire..
Then he froze.
What the hell am I doing?
His stomach twisted in disgust..not at the act itself, but at how far gone he was, how desperate he'd become just from the mere thought of him. With a sharp exhale, he snatched a tissue from the bedside table, wiping his hand roughly, as if he could scrub away the evidence of his weakness.
He collapsed back onto the bed, clutching the blanket to his chest, fingers digging into the fabric. His skin was still flushed, his heart pounding in his ears.
"Pathetic," he muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut.
Taemin wasn't even here. And yet, Juwon still came apart just imagining him still whispered his name like some lovesick fool.
He exhaled sharply through his nose, pressing the heels of his hands against his closed eyelids.
"So fucking dumb."
But even as he scolded himself, the ache in his chest remained. Because no matter how much he tried to deny it, no matter how much he hated this helpless longing
He still wanted him.
The car slowed as it neared the foot of the mountains. The driver parked carefully by the long flight of stone stairs carved into the slope. A chill breeze swept through the air as Taemin stepped out, tilting his head back to take in the misty peaks above.
The three of them began their slow ascent up the stairs, each step echoing faintly in the quietness of the mountains. At the top, standing with his hands folded calmly behind his back, Master Hwang awaited them.
"You're here," he said, as though he had known the very moment they would arrive.
Taemin blinked, surprised. "Master… how do you always know when we're coming?"
The old monk only shrugged lightly, his wrinkled face betraying nothing. "Some things are not worth questioning."
Rinwoo immediately lowered himself into a deep bow, his frail frame trembling under the effort. Master Hwang's sharp eyes softened when they fell on the boy the pale skin, the heavy eye bags, the way his body looked as though a strong breeze could break him. The monk released a long sigh but said nothing of it, simply turning to lead them inside.
"You must be tired from the journey," Master Hwang said, his voice carrying a quiet authority. He handed Taemin a small key. "The guest room is yours tonight."
Then, turning, he pressed another key into Taekyun's hand. "You'll share with Rinwoo."
Taekyun's expression froze. He shot a quick glance at Rinwoo, then back at the monk. "Again? Master, why? He isn't even sick this time. Why does he always have to stay with me?"
Master Hwang's eyes narrowed, his calm demeanor hardening into a glare that sent a chill down Taekyun's spine. "Would you prefer to sleep outside?"
Taekyun opened his mouth to argue, but the weight of that gaze silenced him. He clenched his jaw, then let out a frustrated sigh. His eyes flickered briefly, coldly, to Rinwoo before he muttered, "Fine."
Master Hwang gave a curt nod, satisfied. Without another word, he dismissed them to their rooms.
Taekyun was about to step inside when his phone buzzed. Yuna's name flashed across the screen.
"Where are you? Why aren't you checking my messages? You're making me worried, Taekyun!" her voice spilled out the moment he picked up.
Taekyun let out a long sigh, his tone softer than his expression.
"I'm at Master Hwang's shrine… I'll be staying here for a day, maybe longer."
There was silence for a moment before Yuna spoke again, this time with a sharper edge.
"…Just keep your distance from Rinwoo. You know how I feel about him."
Taekyun closed his eyes, the weight in his chest heavier than before. "I know," he muttered.
After a few more words, they exchanged quiet "I love yous," and the call ended.
When he finally pushed the door open, the sight before him made him pause. Rinwoo was crouched down, carefully setting up a futon for him. The boy's hands moved with a kind of nervous determination, smoothing the blanket as though it was the most important thing in the world.
Taekyun sighed, stepping further in. "You don't have to do that."
But Rinwoo just gave a faint smile, his voice low. "It's okay… I can do it. I want to." His hands didn't stop.
Something inside Taekyun snapped. His words came out sharper than he intended.
"I said no need to do it!" His voice echoed in the room. "Stop pushing yourself… stop doing everything on your own… Stop helping me in ways that make me feel guilty!"
Rinwoo froze, his hands trembling slightly over the futon. Taekyun's next words cut even deeper.
"You'll never be my husband, Rinwoo… so stop acting like one."
For a heartbeat, silence swallowed the room. Rinwoo's chest rose and fell, but no sound left his lips. His eyes glistened, though he tried his best to hold back the tears. Slowly, he stepped back, his voice barely above a whisper.
"…Understood."
He bowed his head, nodded once, and turned away before Taekyun could see his face crumble.
The futon lay unfinished on the floor, and the room suddenly felt colder as Rinwoo slipped out into the night.
Meanwhile At the Lee estate, the dining room was quiet except for the soft clinking of cutlery. Mr. Lee set his fork down and glanced across the long table at Daon, his sharp eyes narrowing.
"Where's Eunjae?" he asked suddenly, his tone heavy with suspicion.
Daon froze mid-bite, the spoon lingering near his lips. He swallowed hard, lowering his gaze. "He… didn't tell me before leaving. I don't know where he is."
Mr. Lee's face darkened. He leaned back in his chair, his voice rising in anger. "Daon, he is your husband! How can you be so careless? Eunjae is a walking disaster if you don't keep an eye on him, who will? You should know better by now!"
Daon clenched his fists under the table, guilt and frustration mixing in his chest. He didn't dare argue back.
Meanwhile, in the city's loudest club, Eunjae was anything but hard to notice. Neon lights painted his flushed face as he swayed recklessly on the dance floor, clinging to strangers men with sculpted arms and dangerous smiles, women in glittering dresses, anyone who pulled him close.
His glass was never empty. Shots after shots burned down his throat as if he was determined to drown himself in liquor. His friends tried to cheer him, laughing as they danced beside him, but Eunjae's movements were wild, almost desperate.
Strippers moved along the stage poles nearby, and Eunjae stumbled toward them, reaching out with a dazed grin, clapping with the crowd. People around began filming him on their phones, amused at the wealthy Lee heir husband behaving so shamelessly.
He didn't care. Or maybe he cared too much. Either way, he drank like there was no tomorrow, his shirt damp with sweat, his lips parted as he laughed and shouted over the music.
Back at the Lee estate, Daon lowered his eyes as Mr. Lee's voice echoed:
"Find him before he ruins himself and us."
At the shrine, the evening was quiet, the soft hum of cicadas echoing in the distance as the incense smoke curled lazily into the night sky. Rinwoo sat outside on the worn stone steps, his shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the ground as though the dust beneath his feet could give him answers.
Master Hwang noticed him and, with the slow patience of age, walked over and settled beside him on the cold stone. For a while, neither spoke. Only the faint rustling of the trees filled the silence.
Finally, Master Hwang asked softly, "How are you, child?"
Rinwoo swallowed, his throat tight, a lump pressing against his words. He sighed and lowered his gaze further, unable to form an answer. His silence said more than words ever could.
Master Hwang's eyes softened. He too sighed, folding his hands on his lap. "You must stop pushing," he murmured gently. "Each time you do, you are only carving deeper wounds in yourself. You're hurting, Rinwoo."
Rinwoo let out a faint, bitter laugh though it carried no joy. He smiled faintly, a small curve of lips that looked more like surrender than happiness, and shook his head. "I'm not hurting myself, Master," he said quietly, his voice almost trembling. "I'm just… loving someone who doesn't love me."
The words hung heavy in the night air.
Master Hwang turned to look at him, his wise old eyes holding Rinwoo's fragile figure for a long moment. He did not speak right away. Instead, he slowly lifted his gaze to the sky above, where the stars were beginning to pierce the dark velvet of the heavens. After a pause, he shook his head, as though the weight of unspoken truths pressed on him too.
And still, he kept his eyes on the stars, as if searching them for the answers Rinwoo could not bear to hear.
Master Hwang let out a deep sigh, his eyes tracing the stars above. "Rinwoo… love is not about holding pain like a shield," he said gently. "It's about giving freely, yes… but not destroying yourself in the process."
Rinwoo's fingers curled against his knees, trembling slightly. His lips quivered, but he forced a smile, broken and fragile. "If it hurts me… then it means it's real, doesn't it? If it doesn't hurt, maybe it's not love at all."
Master Hwang slowly turned his gaze to him, his old eyes filled with sadness. "That's where you're wrong. Love is meant to heal, to guide, to lift you. What you're holding onto… is unrequited. You're clinging to a flame that refuses to burn for you. And you keep walking into it, knowing it will leave scars."
Rinwoo finally looked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. His voice cracked. "Then tell me, Master… how do I stop? How do I stop my heart from beating for someone who doesn't even see me?"
Master Hwang's lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, he didn't answer. Instead, he reached out and placed a hand over Rinwoo's trembling one. "You don't stop, child. You learn to carry it differently. You give love… but not all of yourself. Because one day… one day, someone else will appear who will hold that love like it's the most precious thing in the world. And if you've destroyed yourself before that day comes… you'll have nothing left to give."
Rinwoo's breath hitched. His heart ached, heavy and suffocating, but for the first time, Master Hwang's words felt like a small light in the dark.
While they were talking a student of Master Hwang came quietly from behind, bowing respectfully before holding out a small wooden medicine box.
"Master, it's time. Please eat this," he said softly.
Master Hwang gave a small nod, his eyes still lingering on the fading sky. The student placed the tray with water and the medicine beside them, then bowed once more before leaving silently.
Master Hwang picked up the medicine, swallowing it slowly with the water. Rinwoo, who had been watching quietly, pushed himself up from the stone seat.
"I'll take this inside," he said gently, his voice steady but distant.
The old master gave a tired nod, not questioning him. Rinwoo picked up the tray and medicine box, carrying it with both hands as he stepped into the shrine. The wooden floor creaked beneath his steps, the faint smell of incense greeting him as he walked deeper inside.
For a moment, he paused in the quiet hallway, his chest tightening. His hands lingered on the medicine box a little too long as if holding onto it could distract him from the ache in his heart.
When Rinwoo's footsteps faded, silence settled over the courtyard. Master Hwang leaned back slightly, his eyes lifting to the sky. A soft smile touched his lips as a gentle breeze brushed against his cheek.
But he knew it wasn't just the wind.
A quiet chuckle escaped him. "Did you see him?" he murmured to the empty air. "The way he loves… just like his mother."
From the air beside him, a faint shimmer appeared, and the spirit of his late wife slowly formed. She smiled warmly, her gaze tender as she looked in the direction Rinwoo had gone.
"Yes," she said softly. "He looks just like her. Our daughter must be so sad… watching her son suffer this way."
Master Hwang's smile faded into a sigh. He lowered his eyes, shoulders heavy with unspoken truths.
The breeze touched his cheek again, gentler this time, carrying her voice. "Don't burden yourself so much. He'll understand you if you tell him the truth."
But Master Hwang only shook his head, his voice low and steady. "Not yet. The time hasn't come. I'll wait… until it's right."
His wife's spirit lingered for a moment, watching him with sorrowful eyes, before fading back into the wind.
And Master Hwang sat there alone, beneath the open sky, carrying both the weight of the past and the hope for the right moment to come.