When we want something deeply—when even the shape of that longing is clear, and we finally hold it, wholly our own—it takes only a moment's haze for everything to dull.
The image remains before us, visible, yet no longer clear.
No matter how often we try to wipe it clean, no matter how many angles we view it from, it never returns to what it once was.
The same haze drifted through Garam's heart.
He watched Gyu for a long time—unblinking, unwavering.
In Gyu, he searched for his sister.
In Gyu's closed eyes, he planted courage—just a little longer… just a little longer.
He wanted to keep watching until the image inside him finally sharpened.
But as always, the dust never lifted.
Even blurred, the image still looked like Gyu.
And once again, it wrapped Garam in a sweet lie.
He forgot what he was doing.
All he could see was his sister—reflected in Gyu.
He stopped trying to tell the difference.
How often would he be given a moment like this—where he could look at his past without question, without resistance, and let it spill into the present?
Was he blind?
That was hard to say.
But mad? Yes—mad would fit.
If this wasn't madness, then what was it—to refuse to see what is, and instead see what the heart demands?
Why did his heart torment him like this?
A better brother would have strangled this feeling long ago.
What kind of brother doesn't even know when his sister died—or where she is buried?
Burial.
The word never stayed in his mind.
Gyu—alive, breathing, walking before him—kept him from thinking of graves.
A grave was the final destination, where hope and despair were sealed together.
And with it came the bitter truth:
that he was not with his sister—only with someone who resembled her.
To endure that truth required a hardened heart.
So he borrowed strength from hatred, from buried disappointment, from whatever sharp, taunting words still remained within him.
Each time a fleeting happiness bloomed at the sight of Gyu, it dragged him back onto grief's noose.
And that pain—cruel as it was—kept him alive, until the day he could finally accept this reality.
Kaven's words—"I'm talking about him"—snapped through Garam's thoughts like a whip.
The illusion shattered.
He pulled himself out of his self-deception and turned away from Gyu, in frustration marching his way to the door.
Just then, his mother's voice on the phone forced him to pause.
He began to wonder—
what had happened during those two years he was gone?
Away from Gyu.
Gyu had been with their parents… right?
Then what was it that had left him so frightened?
Why had he said those words, only to act as if nothing had happened afterward?
What is he hiding?
His past?
Garam pulled out his phone, typed a message, slipped it back into his pocket, and started walking toward home.
...
Back to the present.
7:00 p.m.
"You're going to that uncle's place?" Kaven texted.
"No. Not today. I'd have to inform them beforehand anyway," Gyu replied lazily, flopping onto the sofa.
"You okay now?"
"Yeah. No need to come."
"If anything happens, I'm one call away."
"You're nothing like how I envisioned you. You are really a nice guy."
"Only now you notice?"
"Well… first impressions, I guess."
"Okay, let's end this here." kaven texted back
Gyu playfully messaged,"Why?"
"It's embarrassing."
"Looking at you, it feels like you must've had a lot of crushes." Gyu added casually.
Kaven stared at the message for a while, unsure what to reply.
In the end, he simply typed—
"Yeah."
"See you tomorrow."
---
The next morning, the school was in complete chaos.
Noise pressed hard against the ears.
"Why are you all screaming so much?" a girl shouted in irritation.
"Let them be," Erik replied. "Today's the selection results. They're just in a good mood."
Terry came running toward Ben.
"Bennnn!"
"What?"
But then Ben noticed the phone screen Terry was shoving in front of his face, pointing at it with a grin stretched impossibly wide.
"I know—I'm selected," Ben said coolly, shrugging.
"No!"
"No?"
"No—yes—no—oh my God! I'm in the final team! And where did you apply to get selected, huh?"
"You're not selected anywhere." Terry argued.
Ben shyly scratched his neck.
"Oh? Am I selected too?" Kaven said, snatching the phone and zooming in.
There it was—Kaven, Terry, Rex, Auron, Garam, and the names of several other students.
"Garam too?"
"I played far better," someone muttered.
"Yeah, yeah—only in words."
"But why didn't he get selected?" The guy pointed to a side.
"He didn't?"
"a huh" he shook his head.
Gyu stayed silent.
"It's okay," kaven tried to console him.
"But I thought I would…" Gyu said softly, disappointment laced in his voice.
"I heard it's because you've lost weight and look too skinny."
"Maybe," Gyu replied, and moved to his seat, his shoulder was too sunken.
From his seat, Garam watched Kaven quietly.
"He did well," he muttered glancing briefly at Gyu.