Seojun sat there, unmoving, very aware of the fact that Haneul was still leaning against him. Her hair tickled his neck, and he could feel her slow, steady breathing.
He swallowed. This was weird.
"You asleep?" he muttered.
"No."
Great. That meant she was just choosing to use him as a pillow.
He sighed, shifting slightly—only for her to shift too, adjusting her position on him.
"…Are you getting comfortable?"
She didn't answer. But now, instead of just leaning, she was practically resting her head against his collarbone. And, worse—he could feel her.
He cleared his throat, trying to think of literally anything else.
"You're… kinda heavy."
Haneul hummed. "You called me light earlier."
"I changed my mind."
Silence. Then—
"You're warm."
"You already said that."
She made a small noise. "You're warmer than the blanket."
Seojun sucked in a slow breath. Don't say something weird, don't say something weird—
"Maybe your blanket just sucks."
Haneul let out a soft huff, barely a laugh, but then—
She moved again.
Seojun froze. Because suddenly, she was shifting onto his lap.
"What the—"
"I can't see," she muttered, irritated. "I was trying to get up."
Seojun, on the verge of a breakdown, stared at her. "You missed."
She blinked—her violet eyes unfocused, confused. "What?"
"You—" He exhaled, hands hovering awkwardly as she very much remained sitting on him. "You sat on me."
A long pause. Then—
"…Oh."
Seojun waited for her to move.
She didn't.
He twitched. "Why are you still here?"
"…"
"Haneul."
"…I can't see."
Seojun closed his eyes. Calm down. Breathe. This is just a situation. A dumb situation.
"…Do you need directions?"
Another pause. Then, in the most deadpan voice—
"Yes."
Seojun actually choked.
"Haneul, it's not a maze. Just—stand up. Get off."
She tilted her head, and Seojun hated how she looked kind of cute even when blurry-eyed and completely unbothered.
"I don't know which way is off," she admitted.
Seojun wanted to scream.
Instead, he grabbed her waist.
Her breath hitched.
He paused.
"…What are you doing?" she asked.
"Helping," he said through gritted teeth.
Haneul stared—or at least, probably stared. Then, before he could lift her, she moved first.
Unfortunately, she moved the wrong way.
Seojun barely had time to register her shift before—
Their noses bumped.
His breath caught.
Her lips—so close.
Haneul froze.
Seojun's brain short-circuited.
Neither of them moved. Too close. Too warm. Too—
For a heartbeat—
The world stuttered.
Seojun's vision fractured, and suddenly, *she wasn't the Haneul he knew.*
This Haneul was older—her hair longer, her eyes deeper, her lips slightly parted like she'd been waiting for him. And *he* was different too—older, wearier, his fingers trembling against her cheek as if she might vanish.
Their lips were so close.
Closer than they'd ever been.
Closer than they *should* be.
Then—
**GLITCH.**
Reality snapped back.
Seojun gasped, his chest tight, his skin still burning where *another version of her* had almost touched him.
Haneul was still there, her nose brushing his, her breath warm.
She didn't pull away.
For a second, the warmth of her felt familiar—like he'd done this before. Like they'd *lived* this before.
Then, softly, barely a whisper—
*"…Again."*
His pulse stuttered. *Again?*
---
Haneul blinked slowly. "Are you looking at me?"
Seojun made a strangled noise. Why was that what she was asking right now?
"I—I don't know!" he blurted. "I can't think, okay?!"
Silence.
Then, suddenly—
She leaned back, her hand coming up. Seojun flinched, fully expecting a slap.
But instead—
Haneul poked his forehead.
"…You're a pervert," she murmured.
He forgot how to breathe.
"…Huh?"
She yawned, completely unbothered, and finally she slid off him, curling back onto the couch like nothing happened.
Seojun just sat there, staring at the ceiling.
What the hell just happened.
Seojun was still frozen, his soul halfway out of his body, he thought,
'This wasn't the first time they'd almost kissed. '
But before he could move
BANG.
Bomi's door slammed open.
"OPPA, I CAN'T SLEEP—"
She turned on the lights.
"Oppa, why is your face so red?"
His entire existence shattered.
Slowly, like a rusty machine, he turned his head.
Bomi stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes sleepily, her hair sticking up in all directions. She blinked at him, then at Haneul, then back at him—her tiny brain clearly putting together the worst possible conclusion.
Seojun panicked.
"I—it's not! It's not red!" he hissed, covering his face with both hands.
Bomi stared. Then, in the most devastatingly innocent voice—
"Did you kiss Unnie?"
Seojun choked on air.
Haneul, still curled up on the couch like a menace, didn't even deny it. She just blinked drowsily and yawned, stretching like a cat.
Bomi gasped. "You did! You did!"
"No, we didn't—!!"
Bomi's eyes sparkled with betrayal. "But Oppa! You said I can't have a boyfriend until I'm at least twenty! You're a liar!"
Seojun was actually dying. "WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?!"
Bomi pouted, crossing her arms. "Then I'm getting a boyfriend, too!"
Seojun lunged. "LIKE HELL YOU ARE—!!"
Bomi squealed, dodging out of the way. "You can't stop me now! I'll find a boyfriend at school—!"
"WHO?! WHO?!"
Haneul, watching all of this unfold, finally spoke—
"…Her classmate, Minho, gave her an extra snack yesterday."
Seojun froze.
Bomi gasped, clutching her little chest. "Unnie, you betrayed me?!"
Seojun snapped his head toward her like an executioner.
"Who is Minho."
Bomi bolted.
"BOOOOOMIIIIIIII—!!"
Seojun chased after Bomi, but she was small, fast, and, most importantly, fueled by the thrill of messing with him. She dodged between furniture like a trained assassin, giggling maniacally.
"YOU CAN'T CATCH ME!" she sang, sticking her tongue out.
Seojun, seething, lunged. "GET BACK HERE, YOU TRAITOR—!!"
But just as he was about to grab her, Bomi made a fatal mistake.
She ran straight for Haneul.
Haneul, who was still sprawled out on the couch and was now the human barricade between Bomi and her impending doom.
Bomi realized too late. Her little feet skidded on the floor as she tried to turn, but—
THUD.
With a tiny oof, Bomi tripped and landed right on Haneul.
Silence.
Seojun stopped, breathing heavily. Bomi was frozen, her face squished against Haneul's stomach, her tiny hands gripping the couch for dear life.
Haneul, still barely awake, blinked down at the child now plastered to her like a starfish.
Bomi blinked back. Then—
"…You're soft."
Seojun clutched his chest, staggering. "BOMI—!!"
Haneul, unfazed as always, simply yawned. "…Thanks?"
Bomi, undeterred, pushed her little hands against Haneul's stomach experimentally. "Like a mochi."
Seojun covered his face. He couldn't take this. He physically couldn't take this.
Then Bomi gasped.
"Wait! Unnie, do you have boobs?"
Seojun collapsed onto the floor.
Haneul stared, completely blank. "I mean… yes?"
Bomi clapped her hands in amazement. "WHOA! Oppa! Did you know?!"
Seojun, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, weakly croaked, "Bomi… please… stop talking…"
Bomi ignored him entirely.
"Can I squish them?"
Seojun exploded. "NO, YOU CAN'T SQUISH THEM—!!"
Haneul, raising a brow, actually seemed to consider it.
Seojun scrambled to his feet, lunging forward to grab his feral little sister. "Bomi, bedtime! IMMEDIATELY!!"
"Nooo!" Bomi shrieked as he lifted her. "I WANNA SQUISH THE MOCHI—!!"
"YOU ARE FIVE!"
Bomi cackled as she was hauled away. "MOCHI UNNIE! I'LL SEE YOU TOMORROW!!"
Seojun threw a horrified glance back at Haneul—who, infuriatingly, looked completely unbothered. In fact, she shrugged.
"She can, if she wants."
Seojun almost dropped Bomi.
"DON'T ENCOURAGE HER—!!"
Seojun finally managed to wrestle Bomi into her bed, tucking her in as she giggled and kicked her tiny feet under the blanket.
"Sleep," he ordered, pointing a stern finger at her.
Bomi pouted. "Mochi Unnie is more fun than you."
Seojun twitched. "That 'Mochi Unnie' is going to disappear if you don't sleep."
Bomi gasped, clutching her blanket. "No! You can't make her disappear!"
He sighed, rubbing his face. "Then. Sleep."
She squinted suspiciously. "Promise you won't banish her?"
Seojun groaned. "Yes. Fine. Whatever. Just go to sleep."
Satisfied, Bomi snuggled into her blanket. "Okay. But Oppa?"
"What."
She blinked up at him, all big, innocent eyes.
"…You did kiss, didn't you?"
Seojun threw the blanket over her face.
"BEDTIME."
Bomi squeaked, but he didn't stick around for any more chaos. He all but fled, dragging himself back to the living room, mentally exhausted.
Haneul was still on the couch. She was half-awake at best, her head propped against the armrest, eyes barely open. She looked like she could fall asleep at any second.
For a brief, fleeting moment, she almost looked… peaceful.
Then she spoke.
"So," she murmured, "are you gonna answer her question?"
Seojun stopped.
His brain short-circuited again.
"…Huh?"
Haneul let out a lazy hum, turning her head slightly to look at him. "Did we kiss?"
His entire body locked up.
"WH— NO?!? OBVIOUSLY?!"
Haneul blinked slowly. Then—
"…Oh."
That was it. That was her reaction.
Seojun's eye twitched. "Why do you sound disappointed?!"
She shrugged. "I wasn't sure. My vision's blurry without my glasses."
Seojun nearly died on the spot. "ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW?!"
Haneul yawned. "I was half-asleep."
Seojun collapsed onto the couch, holding his head. "You… are actually insane."
Haneul made a soft, thoughtful noise. Then, after a pause—
"Next time, let's make sure."
Seojun's brain has stopped working.
His head snapped toward her, but—too late. She had already curled up, shutting her eyes like nothing had happened.
Seojun sat there, completely frozen.
His soul ascended.
What did she just say.
Did she mean what he thought she meant? Did she say that on purpose? Was she teasing him? He stared at her, waiting for any signs of mischief, but—nothing. She just looked relaxed, as if she hadn't just short-circuited his brain.
Seojun leaned back against the couch, exhaling shakily.
He needed help.
Bomi was right.
He was going to die.
---
Haneul kept her breathing steady, feigning sleep. But beneath the blanket, her fingers curled slightly.
Her face, usually unreadable, was faintly flushed.
At that moment… something had flashed in her mind.
A memory.
An odd one.
I… died.
The thought sent a strange chill down her spine, but she didn't move. Didn't react.
The memory had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, like a ripple in still water.
But the unease it left behind didn't fade so easily.
Haneul's lashes trembled.
She didn't understand.
But somehow… she knew.
This wasn't the first time she was meeting Seojun.
Haneul didn't know why she felt that way.
The first time she saw Seojun, she had been standing by the window in class, watching as he laughed with his friends, his easygoing presence lighting up the room.
And yet—something about him had made her heart ache.
It wasn't recognition, not exactly. It was deeper than that. Like an old song she had once known but forgotten, its melody lingering at the edges of her mind.
I've seen you before.
That thought had come so naturally that it unsettled her.
But that was impossible. They had never met before high school. She had no memories of him—no proof that their paths had ever crossed.
Even so…
That strange, aching familiarity never went away.
It was why she kept watching. Why her eyes always found him, even when she didn't mean to look.
It wasn't just curiosity. It wasn't just fascination.
It was something she couldn't name.