Yeomhwa sat in the dim light, staring at the small items the grandmother had left her. Among them—the ordinary-looking lipcare stick. Her fingers hovered over it, trembling.
The grandmother's voice echoed in her memory, calm yet firm:
"This belonged to Seong Ah. She carried it as her human amulet… a trace of her spirit, a part of her bond with Gyeonwoo. You should give it back to him. After all you've taken, it's the least you can return. A bridge… so the ties broken by you may be healed."
Yeomhwa's chest tightened. She remembered the countless ways she had twisted fate, how her selfishness had dragged them both into misery. A bitter laugh escaped her lips, low and heavy.
"Did she really think I'd be thankful for this?" she whispered to herself. But even as she said it, her hands clenched tighter around the lipcare stick.
Because in truth—she was.
Her eyes burned, unshed tears caught in her lashes. "I already did so much damage… and now all I can do is… give this back. Reunite what I broke."
She pricked her finger with a needle, pressing her blood onto the old amulet beside her, letting it soak in like an oath. Then she lit the candle.
The amulet curled in the fire, black smoke seeping out, spiraling upwards in eerie shapes. The smoke seemed to recognize her guilt, her desire—it twisted into the air as though carrying her vow to the heavens.
"I will return what I stole. I will give him back the piece of her he deserves… even if it costs me everything."
She pulled a needle from her sleeve, pricked the tip of her finger. A bead of blood swelled scarlet, trembling at the surface before it dropped onto the amulet's surface. The ancient ink etched on the talisman seemed to stir—hungry.
Yeomhwa lit the candle.
The flame wavered, catching the amulet as she held it steady. The parchment darkened, edges curling, and then—
Hisssss.
A thick, black smoke unfurled, twisting upward like a serpent, coiling in the air. It filled the room with a heavy, suffocating weight, as if the air itself was being bent by forces unseen. Yeomhwa narrowed her eyes, whispering a vow under her breath.
"No matter the cost, I will bind what was broken."
The smoke thickened around Yeomhwa, crawling along the walls of the chamber like black vines. Her breath came ragged, but she didn't flinch. The candle flame shivered violently, as though caught in an unseen storm.
Her fingers pressed tighter around the lipcare stick, her blood still staining the talisman. It was hers. It belonged to Seong Ah. And now… I must return it.
The grandmother's words stabbed at her again, merciless:
"You shattered the bond. Now you must pay the price to mend it."
Her lips parted in a bitter whisper.
"Then let the smoke take me… let my sins become the bridge."
The smoke seemed to hear her. It coiled tighter, writhing above the flame until it formed the vague shape of a face—neither man nor woman, shifting between sorrow and wrath. It hung there like judgment incarnate.
---
Meanwhile.
The courtyard bathed in muted sunlight, cicadas humming faintly, until silence cut through everything.
Jiho's chest heaved as Seong Ah's lips pressed against his—soft, familiar, wrong.
His hands shook at his sides, torn between surrender and resistance, as though his body betrayed his mind. For the briefest moment, he wanted to believe it was her. That this was real. That she had come back to him.
But then—his blood ran cold.
The kiss was sharp, intrusive, predatory. And when Seong Ah's eyes fluttered open, it wasn't warmth in them—it was the glint of mockery.
Jiho staggered back, breath caught in his throat.
"You… you're not…" His voice broke, his chest burning with shame at how easily he'd faltered.
Bongsu tilted Seong Ah's head to the side, her hair falling like a curtain over her cheek. A cruel, wolfish smile played on her lips.
"Oh, how pitiful. You wanted it to be her, didn't you?"
Jiho's eyes widened, horror dawning.
Gyeonwoo, who had stood frozen, now stormed forward. His fist clenched so tight his knuckles whitened, his teeth grinding as he hissed:
"Get out of her."
The air itself seemed to shiver at his rage.
But Bongsu only laughed—a low, venomous sound spilling from Seong Ah's throat.
"Why would I? When her body carries such power… and her heart pulls so many fools by the string?"
He leaned closer to Jiho, his stolen lips curling inches from his face, whispering like poison:
"She's mine now. And every kiss, every touch you dream of—belongs to me."
Jiho staggered back, shaking, shame and fury warring in his eyes.
Gyeonwoo's voice cut like a blade, low and dangerous:
"I'll tear you out with my own hands if I must."
The black smoke from Yeomhwa's chamber suddenly surged higher, curling toward the heavens—the ritual pulling, binding, threading fate together—as if her vow was already clashing against Bongsu's possession
Bongsu, draped in Seong Ah's body like a stolen garment, tilted her head back with a lazy grin. Her—no, Seong Ah's—hair fell across her cheek as she dragged her fingers slowly through it, savoring the torment in their eyes.
"Damn…" she muttered, voice curling with mockery, though the tone was unmistakably Seong Ah's. "I can't move over you, Gyeonwoo. No matter what I do, no matter how much I want to break free… you're still here."
Her lips curled, biting at the words with false sweetness.
"Always clawing inside of me. Always burning. Doesn't it hurt to know that?"
Gyeonwoo's chest tightened, his fists coiled with fury, but what could he do? Every gesture, every flicker of expression—was her. Her.
Then, with a sudden shift, Bongsu's stolen eyes darted to Jiho. A flash of wicked delight spread across Seong Ah's face, too sharp, too foreign.
"Hey, Jiho…" the voice was light, teasing, cruel.
"Tell me something. Do you still have that silly little crush on this shaman girl?"
Jiho's breath caught, his entire body going rigid. His lips parted, but no words came.
Bongsu leaned forward, Seong Ah's smile twisting wider, sharper.
"Or… did you finally find yourself a girlfriend?"
The courtyard air turned heavy. Jiho's face burned, humiliation cutting deeper than any blade. His fists shook at his sides, nails biting into his palms.
"Stop it…" Jiho muttered, voice cracking, but Bongsu only chuckled—low, dark, curling up her throat like smoke.
"Look at you," Bongsu whispered through Seong Ah's lips, pressing a mocking finger against her own mouth—the same lips Jiho had just felt against his.
"Still weak. Still longing for what you'll never touch. Still dreaming of what belongs to me now."
Gyeonwoo finally broke, his voice like thunder, veins burning with rage.
"Bongsu! If you dare use her to mock us—"
But Bongsu shushed him, pressing Seong Ah's finger against her lips, smiling.
"Then stop me… if you can."
The words echoed like a curse, wrapping both men in helplessness.
The chest creaked open again, wooden hinges groaning. Bongsu rummaged through the neat folds as though tearing through sacred offerings. Silks and linens spilled over the edge like entrails, the careful order of Seong Ah's world undone by his careless hands.
Jiho stood frozen, throat dry, his fingers twitching as though to cover his eyes yet unable to look away. His heart pounded, shame and guilt twined tight in his chest. This isn't her… this isn't her.
Gyeonwoo's breath came sharp through his nose, fists clenched white at his sides, his body strung like a bow ready to snap.
Then—
"Ta-da~" Bongsu sang mockingly, stepping out in a scarlet dress that clung to Seong Ah's form like fire. The skirt was cut far too high, swaying around her thighs with every step. He twirled, Seong Ah's hair flowing, lips curved in a sultry smirk.
"How do I look?" he teased, turning toward Jiho. "Does your heart beat faster, little admirer?"
Jiho's face burned crimson. He stumbled back a step, choking. "Stop it… this isn't— you're not her!"
Bongsu laughed, a sound like silk tearing. "Oh, but don't I wear her skin well?"
Gyeonwoo surged forward, gripping her arm with iron strength. "Enough. Take it off." His voice shook with fury, though he forced it low, controlled.
But Bongsu only tilted her chin, looking down at him with wicked delight.
"Mm… still not impressed?"
He pulled free and ducked behind the chest again.
Rustle. Shuffle. A few sharp snaps of cloth.
He emerged in something shorter still, a black dress slit up one side, revealing skin that should never have been paraded. The sight struck like a blade into Gyeonwoo's chest—every inch of him screamed to protect her, to cover her, to fight—but the monster inside her only smirked and swayed her hips deliberately toward Jiho.
Jiho staggered back until his shoulders hit the wall, breath shallow, face pale as snow. "Seong Ah… please… fight him…!"
For just a flicker—just a heartbeat—the eyes staring back at him widened, pain glimmering beneath the surface. A spark of her. But then Bongsu crushed it, grinning wider.
"Oh, she hears you," Bongsu murmured cruelly, dragging Seong Ah's fingers slowly down the curve of her own body. "But she can't stop me. Isn't that delicious?"
Gyeonwoo's control snapped. He stormed forward, slamming the chest shut with a violent crack, his hand seizing Seong Ah's shoulder, pinning her in place. His voice roared, shaking the chamber walls.
"ENOUGH, BONGSU!"
The candle flames sputtered at his fury, shadows leaping high across the walls.
Bongsu only leaned in, whispering against his ear with Seong Ah's stolen lips.
"Why so angry, lover? Afraid you'll forget which woman she truly is…?"
Gyeonwoo's jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. His body trembled, not from fear, but from the unbearable weight of fury and grief.
Jiho, trembling in the corner, whispered desperately, almost to himself:
"Seong Ah… hold on… please."
For a moment—just a moment—Seong Ah's eyes flickered again. A tear slipped down her cheek, silent, betraying the truth: she was still inside, watching everything.
And Bongsu, delighted, licked it away with her own tongue.
"Mmm… her tears are the sweetest."
Bongsu spun again, skirts flaring, as if parading on a stage. The hem skimmed far too high, the neckline plunging too deep. Every move was a violation, a mockery of the woman who once chose her clothes with modest care.
He stopped, cocking his head, lips curving into a smile that didn't belong to Seong Ah.
"Mm… why such sour faces?" he purred, glancing between Jiho's stricken expression and Gyeonwoo's shaking fury.
Neither spoke. Jiho's eyes stayed fixed on the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. Gyeonwoo's jaw worked, his breath sharp and furious.
Bongsu's smirk widened, a wicked gleam lighting her eyes.
"Smile."
The word fell soft, but heavy as a curse.
Neither moved.
Bongsu's hand drifted down, picking up the ceremonial dagger resting near the chest. The blade gleamed, catching the candlelight as he twirled it between delicate fingers.
"I said… smile."
His tone dropped, silky with venom.
"Or I'll slit one of your throats right here. Maybe both. Then she'll wake up in a body painted red. Do you want that for her?"
Jiho's breath hitched. Slowly, awkwardly, his lips curled into a trembling parody of a smile. His eyes shone with unshed tears, shame burning through him.
Bongsu clapped mockingly, her voice lilting with cruel delight.
"Ah, good boy~ See? He understands."
Her gaze slid to Gyeonwoo, who stood stone-still, his fists trembling at his sides. His lips refused to move, his face carved from fury.
Bongsu leaned close, pressing the cold blade's edge to his chest, just over his heart.
"And you, lover? Won't you smile for me?"
The room stilled, heavy with the threat. Jiho's voice cracked desperately from the corner.
"Gyeonwoo—please… just… do it."
For a heartbeat, Gyeonwoo's face twisted, every muscle fighting the command. Then—slowly, stiffly—he bared his teeth, a cruel, broken shadow of a smile.
Bongsu's eyes gleamed with triumph. He pulled the dagger away, spinning once more, skirts swishing.
"Beautiful. My audience applauds me at last."
But inside—just for a flicker—Seong Ah's spirit screamed. Her body trembled, a tear slipping free despite Bongsu's grin, betraying the truth: she was watching, she was breaking, she was begging to be freed.
Bongsu licked it away, voice honey-sweet, chilling as poison.
"Her tears taste like victory."
The heavy creak of the gate split the suffocating silence.
All three turned at once.
Kim Jun Ung strode into the courtyard, the crisp sound of his boots cutting through the air. His posture was sharp, commanding, his eyes scanning with the cold precision of a soldier. Across his shoulders gleamed the polished brass of his military costume, the faint red tassel swaying as he walked.
Jiho's stomach dropped.
No… not now.
Gyeonwoo's jaw tightened, his pulse racing. His mind screamed, calculating every possible way to shield Seong Ah's body from those watchful eyes.
Jun Ung stopped just inside the threshold, bending slightly to undo the laces of his boots. His movements were unhurried, casual—yet the very sound of leather against stone was like a drumbeat of doom.
Bongsu tilted her head, lips curling. Still draped in Seong Ah's body, she twirled, the short Western dress brushing against her thighs, her hair spilling like a dark waterfall. Her grin widened as her gaze slid toward Jun Ung.
"Oh my… company."
Jiho's breath caught, panic surging through him. He rushed a step forward, his voice cracking:
"Wait! Seong Ah— you shouldn't—"
But Bongsu silenced him with a sharp glance, eyes glittering with malice.
Gyeonwoo immediately closed the gap, grabbing Seong Ah's wrist tightly, dragging her back toward the inner chamber. His voice was low, desperate:
"Stop. Stop playing games. Get inside, now."
Bongsu resisted, her laughter spilling out like bells twisted into mockery.
"Why should I hide? Doesn't she look beautiful like this?"
The dagger still dangled loosely in her hand, catching the lantern light.
Jun Ung finally straightened, setting his boots neatly by the wall. His head lifted, his expression cool as his gaze swept toward the house—toward them.
Jiho's heart thudded so loud it echoed in his ears. His hands shook as he whispered under his breath, terrified, "If he sees her like this… we're finished."
Gyeonwoo's grip on Seong Ah's wrist tightened until his knuckles turned white, fury barely leashed as he hissed into her ear—
"Don't you dare."
But Bongsu only smirked, tugging against his hold, eyes burning with anticipation.
"Oh, I dare. Let's see what the soldier thinks of his precious shaman now…"
Gyeonwoo's breath came fast, his heart slamming as he half-dragged Seong Ah's body into the side room, forcing the door shut with a sharp shove.
"Stay there. Don't move," he hissed, glaring at Bongsu who only smirked in mockery.
But just as the latch clicked, the sudden weight of arms coiled around him.
"Gyeonwoo!"
Kim Jun Ung's booming voice filled the space as he pulled the younger man into a firm embrace. His scent carried of iron, leather, and the faint musk of travel. Gyeonwoo froze stiff, lips pressed thin, forcing a shaky smile.
"Jun Ung… you startled me."
Meanwhile—
Jiho had been backing away nervously, clutching at his chest, when the door behind him creaked open.
Bongsu slipped out.
Her eyes darted, quick and sharp, landing on the leather satchel Jun Ung had set by the entryway. From its side dangled a small packet, candies tied in string, glinting temptingly in the light.
Bongsu's grin widened. Without hesitation, she shoved Jiho aside with surprising force. He stumbled against the wall with a gasp as she crouched, her pale fingers snatching at the dangling sweets.
But Jun Ung's senses were sharp—soldier's sharp. His head whipped around.
"—Who's there?"
And then he saw her.
The sight hit him like a strike: Seong Ah—except not Seong Ah. Not in the flowing hanbok she always wore, but in a short-cut Western top, sleeves tight against her arms, neckline far too daring. Her figure framed in something alien, unfamiliar, scandalous.
Jun Ung's eyes widened in disbelief, his hand twitching toward his belt instinctively.
"What in the—Seong Ah?"
The air turned ice.
Before Gyeonwoo could stop him, Jun Ung's voice thundered through the courtyard.
"Hyeri! Do Doyeon!"
His call ripped through the night like a war cry.
From the distance, the rapid patter of feet answered. Two silhouettes burst into view, skirts swishing, hair tied back as they rushed toward Gyeonwoo's home, alarm written across their faces.
Inside the room, Jiho's blood ran cold. He staggered forward, voice trembling.
"No—wait—!"
But Bongsu only rose to her feet, clutching the stolen candies like a prize, her lips curving in a smile that promised disaster.
The sound of hurried footsteps grew louder until the courtyard filled with the blur of skirts and hurried breaths.
Hyeri and Do Doyeon came rushing in.
And then they froze.
Their eyes widened as they saw her—Seong Ah. But not the Seong Ah they knew. Instead of her soft hanbok and modest grace, she stood there in a short, Western-styled top that clung in places her clothes never had. Her bare arms caught the lantern glow, her posture strangely bold. It was almost unreal—like a different soul was wearing her skin.
Hyeri's mouth fell open, then snapped shut with fury.
"You—!" she spun to Gyeonwoo, her face darkening like thunderclouds. "How could you hide her like this? Do you know what people would say if they saw her?!"
Before Gyeonwoo could explain, Hyeri's fists were already raining down on him.
"You reckless fool! Idiot! Bastard!" Each word came with a shove, a smack across his shoulder, his arm, his chest. Gyeonwoo groaned, stumbling back, hands raised in defense.
"Hyeri—wait! It's not—!"
But Hyeri was merciless, her hair flying as she struck, her voice sharp with the sting of betrayal.
Meanwhile—
Do Doyeon's eyes softened as tears welled in them. She ignored Hyeri's rage and instead rushed forward, straight to Seong Ah. Her hands trembled as she wrapped her arms around the girl's figure.
"Seong Ah… you're so different, but you're still you… aren't you?"
For a moment, Bongsu stood stiff, caught off guard by the warmth and sudden closeness. He hadn't expected this—this tenderness. The scent of Doyeon's hair brushed against Seong Ah's borrowed cheek, her heartbeat pressed close to his chest.
His smirk faltered.
Then slowly, carefully—almost unnaturally—his arms moved. He hugged her back.
The others stared in disbelief as Seong Ah's lips curved into a smile. But it wasn't the shy, gentle smile they knew. No. It was something sharper. Stranger.
Inside her body, Bongsu's mind coiled like a snake.
Ah… so this is what it feels like. To be loved in her skin. To be wanted, even when I'm the imposter.
His smile widened against Doyeon's shoulder.
The night air was cool, the stars scattered like silver dust across the dark sky. Someone had dragged logs into a rough circle, and in the middle crackled a small fire, its orange glow casting long shadows across their faces.
One by one, the students gathered, bowls of steaming rice and roasted fish in hand. The chatter was easy, familiar—laughter rippling like waves as they retold stories of their old school days.
Jiho leaned back, grinning as he nudged Gyeonwoo with his elbow.
"Remember when the teacher caught you sneaking dried persimmons into class? You swore you were fasting for spiritual practice—"
The group erupted into laughter before Jiho could even finish. Gyeonwoo groaned, covering his face with his hand.
"Can't you let that go? It's been years!"
"Years, but still the funniest thing you ever did," Hyeri teased, snickering into her bowl.
Even Kim Jun Ung, usually so stern in his military uniform, chuckled under his breath as he tore into his share of food. His presence made the circle feel safer, stronger—like nothing outside the firelight could touch them.
Do Doyeon sat close to Seong Ah, her head tilted as she laughed at every silly memory. Her eyes sparkled in the firelight, relief softening her features now that they were all together again.
But…
Across from her, Seong Ah's laughter was different. Louder, bolder—an edge of mischief no one quite recognized. Her legs stretched comfortably, her posture too relaxed, unlike the gentle, modest Seong Ah they remembered. Yet, in the warmth of the fire, no one dared question it. They just laughed with her, letting nostalgia pull them all back to the innocence of their youth.
Bongsu, hidden in her skin, watched the circle with sharp eyes. Every laugh, every story, every flicker of joy—they weren't his, but he wore them like a mask. And as the others remembered the old Seong Ah, he thought to himself:
Fools. You don't even realize she's gone. And yet… through me, you get to believe she's still here.
The fire popped, sparks flying upward like fleeting stars.
"Hey, hey—what about when Hyeri chased Jiho with a broom for spilling ink on her books?" someone shouted.
Hyeri's face flushed red as everyone burst into another round of laughter.
"YAH! That wasn't funny, it was war!" she snapped, but her smile betrayed her.
The night carried on, filled with voices, food, and the glow of memories—everyone lost in the comfort of togetherness.
Only Gyeonwoo's gaze lingered longer on Seong Ah, his chest tightening. Her laugh… her smile… they were hers, but not hers.
And in that flicker of doubt, he knew—something wasn't right.
The fire burned lower now, its glow softening as the night grew quieter. They had eaten well, laughed even harder, and for a while, it almost felt like the years apart had melted away.
Then, in the middle of a story, Kim Jun Ung cleared his throat. His military coat lay folded neatly behind him, and his posture was straight as ever, but there was something different in his eyes.
"I suppose," he began slowly, "I should tell you all something."
The chatter quieted, all eyes turning toward him. Even the crackle of the fire seemed to hush in anticipation.
Jun Ung's gaze shifted, almost shyly, toward Do Doyeon beside him. Her cheeks already pink, she looked down at her lap, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve.
"We've… been dating," Jun Ung said at last, his voice steady. "Since last year. Since high school ended."
For a heartbeat, silence hung in the circle—then Hyeri practically shrieked.
"WHAT? You two?!" She threw her chopsticks into the air, her jaw dropping. "How dare you keep that from us all this time!"
Doyeon laughed nervously, covering her mouth. "We wanted to… keep it private for a while."
"Private? More like a crime against friendship!" Jiho teased, though his grin was wide.
Everyone leaned in with excited questions, laughter bubbling again as Doyeon hid her face in Jun Ung's shoulder. He looked unbothered, even proud, his arm brushing hers protectively.
But then—inevitably—their eyes turned.
Toward Seong Ah.
"Enough about us," Doyeon said, her voice soft but curious, "Seong Ah… where have you been all this time? Why didn't you come back sooner?"
The warmth around the fire seemed to falter. Jiho stiffened. Gyeonwoo's hand, resting against his knee, curled into a fist. Both of them darted quick glances at each other, silently screaming the same thought:
Please, don't let him ruin this.
All eyes were fixed on Seong Ah's face.
Bongsu, inside her, tilted his head slightly, studying them all. He felt their trust, their expectation. A cruel little smirk tugged at the corner of his lips—one so unlike the real Seong Ah. But then, smoothly, he leaned back, voice casual, almost airy.
"Oh… here and there," he said. "I took a trip. Wandered a bit. Sometimes you need to disappear to find yourself again, don't you think?"
The fire popped, a sharp crack that made Hyeri flinch.
"That long? You didn't write to anyone?" Jun Ung frowned, suspicion flickering across his sharp features.
Bongsu's smile widened, playful but evasive. "Letters get lost. And besides, wouldn't it be boring if I had told you everything? This way… you all get a surprise reunion."
The group exchanged glances—confused, unsettled, but too happy to have her back to press harder. Soon the conversation shifted again, back to food, laughter, and the easy flow of memories.
The fire cracked, its sparks rising into the dark sky, but the cheerful chatter that had filled the air only moments ago was gone. The circle had fallen silent, every pair of eyes fixed on Seong Ah's trembling figure.
Bongsu's tears wouldn't stop, no matter how hard he bit his lip, no matter how harshly he tried to wipe them away. The warmth of the flames only seemed to make the ache inside him worse.
Hyeri's playful grin had long disappeared. She leaned forward, brows furrowed. "Seong Ah… hey, tell me, what's wrong? Did something happen while you were away?"
Bongsu choked on a sob, unable to answer at first. His body shook as though years of pent-up emotions were clawing out. Finally, his voice came, ragged and hoarse:
"You don't… understand. You sit here, smiling, laughing—" he gestured at them with shaking hands, "—like nothing has changed. Like… like no one was ever lost."
Jun Ung stiffened, his soldier's instincts pricking at the words. "What do you mean? Who's lost?" he asked, his voice low, careful.
Bongsu's chest heaved as he forced the words out, eyes glistening. "Do you know… how cruel it is? To watch people so happy, so full of memories, while you… you stand outside, looking in. Forgotten. Unwanted. Like you never even existed."
The fire popped loudly, making Doyeon flinch. She leaned closer, wrapping her arms around "Seong Ah" without hesitation, her voice trembling. "You were never forgotten. We thought about you every single day you were gone. Don't say things like that, please."
Bongsu froze, staring down at Doyeon hugging him—her warmth, her sincerity, her tears glimmering as she spoke. His throat tightened. For a fleeting second, he wanted to melt into it. To pretend it was for him.
But it wasn't.
It was for Seong Ah.
The realization struck him cruelly, twisting his insides. He let out a bitter, broken laugh, startling everyone.
"Of course you did," he whispered darkly. "Of course you thought about her."
Jiho quickly cut in, panic rising as he tried to mask the slip. "She's just… overwhelmed. It's been years since she's been back. Let's not push her too much."
But Gyeonwoo wasn't convinced. He sat still, watching the tears pour down Seong Ah's face, watching the bitterness behind the words. His hands curled into fists against his knees.
That wasn't her.
That wasn't Seong Ah's grief.
That was Bongsu's.
Hyeri reached out, trying to hold her hand. "Seong Ah, listen to me. You're home now. We're all here. Whatever pain you're carrying—you don't have to carry it alone anymore."
Bongsu jerked his hand away, glaring through his tears. "You don't understand. None of you do. Because you've always had each other." His voice cracked, filled with years of loneliness he never admitted. "And I've had… nothing."
The words cut through the night like a blade. The fire crackled, but no one spoke.
For the first time, everyone around the circle looked at Seong Ah… and wondered.
Was this really her?
Or was something darker hidden behind those tears?
Gyeonwoo's heart pounded, his suspicions burning hotter than the fire.
And in the shadows, Jiho lowered his gaze, his face pale. Because he knew the truth—and he feared what would happen when everyone else finally did.
Jun Ung clapped his hands together suddenly, breaking the tense air. His soldier's grin was forced but warm.
"Alright, enough of this gloomy talk. It's a reunion, isn't it? Let's not waste it on tears. How about we take more drinks, huh?"
Hyeri, always quick to lighten the mood, jumped to her feet. "Yes! That's the spirit! I'll grab another bottle." She ran to the small stash they'd hidden behind the log, waving it high like a trophy.
"Pour me first!" Doyeon laughed, eager to keep Seong Ah—unaware it was Bongsu—close. She pulled him tighter into the hug, resting her chin on his shoulder. "You can't cry on reunion night. It's illegal."
The others chuckled, the sound shaky but slowly gaining strength. One by one, they began to talk again, trading teasing remarks as Hyeri filled the cups.
Jiho forced a laugh, though his eyes kept darting toward Seong Ah. "See? Nothing heals faster than good drinks."
Bongsu wiped his face with the back of his hand, trying to compose himself. A strange mix of bitterness and relief curled in his chest. They hadn't pressed further. They didn't see through him yet.
He lifted his cup when Gyeonwoo passed it to him, their eyes locking for a second. Gyeonwoo's gaze lingered, searching, suspicious. But he said nothing. He simply clinked his cup against Seong Ah's.
"To the old days," Jun Ung said firmly, raising his glass high.
"To the old days!" everyone echoed, voices overlapping as laughter replaced the silence.
They drank deep, and soon stories of school pranks, crushes, and embarrassing punishments filled the night air. The firelight danced across their faces, casting them in golden warmth.
Bongsu listened, sometimes laughing along, sometimes falling quiet as he realized… this wasn't his. These weren't his memories. Yet for the first time in years, he sat among people who treated him as though he belonged.
And that hurt in a way nothing else ever had.
The night was heavy, the fire outside long gone cold. Inside the dim room, only the faint glow of the moon slipped through the cracks in the window.
Bongsu—trapped in Seong Ah's body—sat on the edge of the bed, face shadowed, lips pressed into a thin, bitter line.
Gyeonwoo stepped closer, his voice low but firm.
"Enough games, Bongsu. Tell me… where is Seong Ah?"
For a moment, silence. Then Bongsu's eyes flickered upward, glinting strangely.
"The hour of ox," he muttered, voice dripping with a dark calm. "The hour of ghosts."
A chill crept down Gyeonwoo's spine at the words, but he forced himself to stay steady.
Bongsu, in Seong Ah's body, sat slouched on the edge of the bed, her face painted with a gloom that seemed unnatural for her bright soul. Gyeonwoo, unable to watch any longer, moved closer, his voice firm but trembling with restrained desperation.
"Tell me… where is Seong Ah?" he asked, his hand tightening around hers.
Bongsu tilted her head, a sly smile curling as if enjoying the torment. "The hour of ox," he whispered slowly. "The hour of ghosts."
The words sent a chill crawling down Gyeonwoo's spine. The hour of ox… midnight to dawn—the boundary of spirits.
Later, when the room had grown still and the pale moonlight spilled across the wooden floor, Gyeonwoo waited beside the bed. His eyes never left her face, watching every flicker of breath, every twitch.
At last, when the hour struck, the body stirred. The lashes fluttered. And then—
"Seong Ah…" Gyeonwoo breathed, leaning forward, his heart pounding.
Her eyes opened, softer than he remembered, filled with tears.
"Gyeonwoo…" she whispered, her voice trembling like a fragile string about to snap. Suddenly she threw her arms around him, clutching him tightly, burying her face into his chest.
"I missed you so much," she sobbed, her fingers clutching at his robes as if afraid he might vanish.
Gyeonwoo's own tears welled, his arms encircling her, holding her as if he could shield her from all the cruelty of the world. "I missed you too, Seong Ah… more than life itself," he whispered. His lips pressed against her hair, his heart trembling with relief. Finally. Finally, she's here.
But then—
A sound broke between her sobs.
Not grief. Not relief.
Laughter.
At first soft, then louder, sharper, cutting through the silence of the night.
Seong Ah's body pulled away from his embrace. Her lips curled into a grin too wide, her eyes glinting with mockery.
"Ah… your face, Gyeonwoo." She chuckled darkly, her voice dripping with venom. "So desperate. So foolish. You thought it was her?"
Gyeonwoo froze, his chest tightening, his breath caught in horror.
"Damn it…" His voice cracked as realization sank in.
Bongsu smirked, leaning forward, mimicking her earlier hug. His tone shifted into a high, playful mockery as he repeated Seong Ah's words with exaggerated sweetness:
"'Gyeonwoo… I missed you…'" he sneered, then burst into cruel laughter.
Gyeonwoo's fists shook at his sides, nails digging into his palms. Rage and heartbreak warred within him, his vision blurring as he stared at the face of the woman he loved—distorted by the spirit that refused to let her free.
Bongsu tilted her head, her eyes glittering. "You'll never know, Gyeonwoo… when it's really her, and when it's me."
The words sank like poison into his veins, leaving only anguish in their wake.
Gyeonwoo stumbled out of the room, his chest heaving, his hands trembling like they could no longer contain the storm inside him. The moonlight outside the window glared too bright, mocking him just as much as the laughter that still rang in his ears.
"Damn it… damn it!" he muttered, ruffling his hair violently as he paced back and forth. Then, in a sudden burst, he stomped his foot on the ground and jumped up like a madman, letting out a strangled groan. "Why am I so stupid?!"
His movements were so loud that Jiho, curled up on a mat nearby, stirred awake. He rubbed his eyes groggily, his hair a mess. "What the hell… Gyeonwoo, why are you… hopping around like a crazy frog in the middle of the night?" he mumbled, half-asleep.
Gyeonwoo froze, then spun around, his face twisted with frustration. "Jiho…! That bastard Bongsu—he pranked me again!"
Jiho sat up, blinking in confusion. "Pranked? What do you mean—"
Gyeonwoo threw his arms dramatically, imitating the scene. "'Seong Ah~ I missed you so much~'" he mocked in a falsetto, his expression pained. "I thought it was her, Jiho. For one stupid second, I thought she came back to me. And then—then he laughed! He laughed right in my face while using her body!"
Jiho's mouth dropped slightly as he stared, the sleep draining from his eyes. "...Oh, crap."
Gyeonwoo kept pacing, dragging his hands down his face. "I'm a complete fool. My heart… it just—ugh, it jumped before my head could think. And that damned spirit… he knows it! He's enjoying this!"
Jiho sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You… really are hopeless when it comes to her."
"Don't say that now!" Gyeonwoo snapped, though his voice cracked with emotion. He sank down onto the floor, burying his face into his knees. "I can't even tell anymore… when it's her and when it's him. It's like he's mocking my love for her."
Jiho watched quietly, his chest tightening at the sight of his usually composed friend unraveling. After a pause, he muttered, "Then… we'll just have to find a way to make sure you don't get fooled again. Right? Otherwise, that bastard will keep dancing on your feelings forever."
As gyeonwoo sleep beside jiho slowly
The first rays of dawn slipped through the thin paper windows, spilling faint gold over the room. Gyeonwoo stirred awake beside Jiho, his body stiff from the restless night. His eyes were heavy, but his mind even heavier—still haunted by Bongsu's cruel trick the night before.
Before he could fully sit up, a familiar voice cut through the quiet.
"Baaaabe~," Seong Ah's soft tone rang out—but the smirk curling at her lips wasn't hers. Bongsu leaned against the doorway, hair messy but eyes sharp with mischief. He raised his brows and grinned. "How's your day going, honey?"
Jiho nearly choked on his breath. "Wh—what?" he whispered, utterly lost.
Gyeonwoo froze, his jaw tightening. He knew that playful mockery too well now.
Bongsu wasn't finished. He strolled across the room with exaggerated steps, holding a shiny packet of chips in his hand like it was some royal delicacy. He plopped down right beside Gyeonwoo on the mat and nudged his shoulder.
"Come on, husband," Bongsu teased, drawing out the word, "don't tell me you're too shy to answer your wife?"
Jiho buried his face in his blanket, muffling his laugh but also shaking in fear at how bold Bongsu was getting.
Gyeonwoo's nostrils flared. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm—but the act continued.
Bongsu tilted his head, batting Seong Ah's lashes innocently. "What's wrong, darling? Did I not kiss you goodnight yesterday?" He pouted and leaned closer, voice dropping into an exaggeratedly sweet whisper. "Want me to make it up to you?"
That was it.
In one sudden motion, Gyeonwoo gripped Bongsu by the wrist and pushed him back onto the mat, hovering over him. The chips packet slipped from Bongsu's hands, scattering over the floor.
Bongsu's eyes widened, genuine fear flashing through for a split second. His playful smirk faltered.
"Y-yah—what are you—"
But Gyeonwoo's voice came low, sharp as steel.
"Stop this." His eyes blazed with frustration, the weight of sleepless nights, of helplessness, of anger all pressing into that single command. "You think this is a joke, Bongsu? Wearing her face… playing with her voice… torturing us like this?"
Bongsu swallowed, lips twitching nervously though he tried to keep up the act.
"Oh? Getting rough now? Didn't know you liked it that way—"
"Shut up."
The words were a growl, filled with warning. Gyeonwoo's grip tightened just enough to make Bongsu tense beneath him. Jiho sat frozen, wide-eyed at the sudden shift in atmosphere.
For once, Bongsu didn't laugh.