The room doesn't feel normal anymore.
Even after everything quiets down.
Even after I convince myself I imagined it.
I still feel it.
That absence.
Like someone stood too close to me for too long… and now the air remembers.
I sit on my bed.
Don't move much.
Just breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
"…you're not here," I whisper.
It sounds stupid saying it out loud.
But I say it anyway.
Because silence is worse.
My fingers tighten around my hoodie.
I stare at the mirror again.
Nothing.
Just me.
Too normal.
Too empty.
"…I'm losing it," I mutter.
And then—
A voice.
Soft.
Right behind me.
"…you always say that too early."
My body freezes.
Not fear first.
Not even shock.
Something worse.
Recognition.
My breath catches.
Slowly… I turn.
And he's there.
Niran.
Not fully.
Not clearly.
Not like before.
He looks… unstable.
Like he's being drawn into shape but the world keeps forgetting to finish him.
Edges of him flicker.
Like a signal breaking.
But he's smiling.
Small.
Tired.
Still him.
"…Niran?" I whisper.
My voice cracks on his name.
He tilts his head slightly.
"Yeah," he says softly.
And I laugh.
I don't mean to.
It just comes out broken and relieved.
"You— you're back," I say quickly. "What happened? I thought— I thought you were gone— I thought—"
My words spill too fast.
My chest hurts.
But he just watches me.
Calm.
Not like before.
Not chaotic.
Not teasing.
Just… steady.
Then he lifts a hand slightly.
And suddenly—
the air around me feels lighter.
My panic slows.
Not gone.
Just… held back.
Like he's pressing it down gently.
"…breathe," he says quietly.
And I do.
I don't even realize I listened until I already have.
In.
Out.
My shaking slows.
I stare at him.
"You're— you're really here," I whisper again, softer now.
He exhales.
"…kind of."
That word hits differently.
I frown slightly.
"What does that mean?"
He looks away for a second.
Like he's choosing how to explain something that even he doesn't fully understand.
Then he speaks.
Slow.
Careful.
"I didn't leave," he says. "Not properly."
A pause.
"I got… pulled."
My chest tightens again.
"Pulled by what?" I ask.
He doesn't answer immediately.
Instead, he takes a small step closer.
But even that step glitches—like he almost disappears mid-motion and then reappears in the same place.
He notices me noticing.
And sighs.
"…don't look at me like that," he mutters.
I blink.
"What?"
"I'm not dying again," he says flatly. "Relax."
That almost makes me laugh again.
Almost.
But my throat is still tight.
"So what happened?" I ask again, slower now. "Tell me properly."
He finally looks at me fully.
And his voice drops.
"It's the loop."
I go still.
"…loop?"
He nods once.
"Where I fell," he says. "It keeps pulling me back there."
My stomach sinks slightly.
"That doesn't make sense," I whisper.
"It doesn't have to," he replies.
A pause.
Then softer:
"It's what happens when someone dies with something unfinished."
I swallow.
"…so you're stuck there?"
He hesitates.
Then shakes his head slightly.
"No."
I blink.
"What do you mean no?"
His eyes flicker again—like static running through him.
Then he looks back at me.
"…I come out," he says. "When I can anchor."
My breath slows.
"…anchor?"
He doesn't answer immediately.
Then his gaze softens slightly.
And I already know before he says it.
"…you."
My chest tightens hard.
I step forward without thinking.
"So you're okay," I say quickly. "You're here now, so you're okay—right?"
He pauses.
Then nods.
"…for now."
My relief collapses slightly.
"Then why did you disappear?" I ask, voice shaking again.
He goes quiet.
Long enough that I feel the silence again.
Then—
"…I only disappear," he says slowly, watching me carefully, "when I fulfill your wish."
I freeze.
My mind catches on the sentence before he finishes it.
And then I hear myself speak before I can stop it.
"…you finish my sentence."
His eyes widen slightly.
I stare at him.
Slowly realizing.
"…no," I whisper.
He doesn't interrupt.
Doesn't deny it.
Just watches me.
And I feel it land fully.
Heavy.
Cold.
Final.
"…you only disappear when I fulfill your wish," I repeat quietly.
My voice breaks a little at the end.
He doesn't look away.
Just nods once.
And the room feels smaller again.
Not empty.
Not calm.
Just… fragile.
Like anything I say next might change everything.
And for the first time since he came back—
I'm scared to speak again.
NIRAN'S POV.
He finally relaxes.
That's how I know I'm not going back to the loop right now.
Min-Jun's breathing slows first.
Then his shoulders loosen.
Then that tight grip he always has on the world… softens.
Good.
That means I did my job.
I don't say it out loud.
If I do, he'll get annoying again.
The atmosphere Warm.
Too warm for someone like me.
Min-Jun is sitting on the bed when I moved closer.
Still wearing those ridiculous pink silk pajamas.
I pause.
"…you really dress like this on purpose?" I mutter.
He looks up slowly.
Blinks.
Then frowns.
"Don't start."
Good.
That means I'm back in the right place.
I step closer and sit on the edge of the bed like I own it.
Which I kind of do.
I glance at him again.
At the stupid penguin plush in his arms.
"…you're still holding that thing," I say.
"It helps me sleep," he replies flatly.
"I could help you sleep better," I add immediately.
He glares at me.
I smile.
Perfect.
Normal.
This is better.
I tap the bed beside me.
"Come lie down," I whisper.
He hesitates for half a second.
Then nods.
Lies down slowly.
Carefully.
Like I might disappear again if he moves too fast.
Which… is accurate.
He hugs the penguin tighter once he settles.
I watch him for a moment.
Then lean back slightly, arms behind me.
"Listen," I say casually.
His eyes shift toward me.
I don't look at him directly at first.
Makes it easier.
"I need you to understand something," I continue.
He goes still.
So I add, softer:
"If you push me away… even a little… I go back."
A pause.
"…to the loop."
His brows knit instantly.
"No," he says.
Simple.
Sharp.
Like that solves it.
I glance at him now.
"…that's not how it works."
He shakes his head immediately.
"You're my friend," he says. "You're the only one who understands me. I'm not pushing you away again."
I study him for a second.
He means it.
That's the problem.
Humans always mean things too late or too strongly.
I sigh.
"…you're going to be the death of me," I mutter.
He rolls his eyes.
"You're already dead."
Fair point.
I shift slightly closer anyway.
Because I don't trust silence.
Silence is where things break.
Min-Jun moves closer too.
Like instinct.
Like he doesn't want distance either.
Still clutching that stupid penguin like it's important.
I glance at it again.
"…that thing gets more attention than me," I say.
"It doesn't talk back," he replies.
"I can fix that," I whisper.
He groans.
Good.
That's better.
That's normal.
Then I ask, casually—
"…and Jea-Hyun?"
He opens one eye.
"What about him?"
"Who's better?" I ask.
His expression shifts immediately.
Like he knows I'm being annoying on purpose.
He thinks for a second.
Too long.
I narrow my eyes.
Finally he says—
"You're my best friend."
I pause.
"…that was suspiciously fast."
"And Jea-Hyun is my brother for life," he continues.
I stare at him.
"…so I lose."
He nods once.
"Selfish," I whisper.
He doesn't even deny it.
He just closes his eyes like the conversation is over.
Rude.
I lean back slightly.
Watch him.
He's already calming down.
Breathing slower.
Penguin still in his arms.
Too peaceful for someone who argues with ghosts.
"…you're weird," I murmur softly.
No response.
Of course.
I glance at him again.
He's actually falling asleep.
Right next to me.
Like I'm not something impossible.
Like I'm not a glitch in reality.
I stay quiet.
For once.
No teasing.
No chaos.
Just watching.
"…don't push me away," I say again under my breath.
But this time—
he doesn't answer.
Because he's already asleep.
And somehow…
that feels like the safest thing in the world.
Even for me.